The phonoscope (Nov 1896-Dec 1899)

Vol. I. No. i. THE PHONOSCOPE. 1 1 Abberation of Taste We are at a loss to understand why sober people should find a delight In watching every day actions at a theater, which in their own privacy they prefer to perform in private. There seems to be nothing more the go to-day than dressing, undressing, bathing, and similar scenes, and where any artistic or elevating merit comes in we fail to see. Yet they continue to rage, and the disappointment depicted on the faces of the audience of Miner's Bowery Theater, when Venus was forbidden to take her bath, and the couchee couchee dance stopped, fully proved the degeneration of the taste of the present age. How long will it last? A Settled Dispute We are glad to note that the difficulty between Messrs. Walcutt & Leeds and Mr. Geo. Gaskin has at last been amicably settled. It appears that this record maker was under contract with the former only to sing for them. Iu spite of this he sang for others also, notably for the Chicago TalkiDg Machine Company, and as a result the law was set in motion, bringing Mr. Gaskin into a very unpleasant predicament. We congratulate Messrs. Walcutt & Leeds on the generous and conciliating spirit shown and trust that all trouble is well over now. & * ik * Boys Boys will be boys always and all the world over. Their latest exploit is the helping themselves to chewing gums out of automatic machines by inserting not nickels, but brass buttons, campaign-buttons, and iron washers the size of a nickel. We have lately seen a collection of these, so incongruous and curious that nothing better could have been found even in a junk shop. It is breaking the machine by unfair means, or, politically speaking, a use of McKinley tin with too much Democratic freedom. Phonograph Funerals A New York paper recently published an account of a Phonograph Funeral, which was greatly garbled by the writer's ignorance of the working of a Phonograph. There is nothing intrinsically impossible in the idea of having the funeral oration and service delivered through the horn of a Phonograph, but so far it has not been attempted, and it will surely take some considerable time yet before even our matter of fact fellow-citizens will stand a mechanical flow of eloquence and piety at the grave side of any of their friends. riechanical Detectives That the Cinematographe has great possibilities we never doubted, but we never expected it to do detective work, as we find it did at Keith's in Boston some day during the past month. One of the scenes displayed was the bridge at Hamburg at its busiest time. Among the passengers seen flitting over the bridge was recognized a man who has been missing from his home and family for some years, and whose whereabouts are anxiously sought. Inquiries have been set on foot, and there is an interesting story connected with the matter, which will come out if the party is located. Our jforcion = = = = Corresponbence Buenos Ayres, August 28, 1896. My dear R.— You will be surprised to get a letter from me out of this corner of the world, and, knowing as you do my dislike to letter-writing, you will be doubly surprised at getting such a voluminous one. But then, my friend, I have been surprised myself, and I am so full of all I have seen that I must find an outlet somewhere, and aware of your good nature and patience, I hasten to make you my lightning rod. The object of my visit here is to introduce some new kind of agricultural machinery, the nature of which is so sublime and complicated as to be far beyond the reach of your massive mind entirely enthralled by the charms possessed by Phonographs, Kinetoscopes and all the other 'Graphs and 'Scopes in creation. Suffice it that I am here on business, not unmixed with pleasure, bien entendu. Somehow in the States we all seem to have an idea that anything below the equator is nothing short of wild and deserted, peopled only by slouchily dressed Creoles, Spanioles ami other oles, living in mud holes, thatched with palm leaves, more or less tight. Well, there is some truth in it, but it is very little, as I found out to my surprise and joy. To begin with Rio de Janeiro, the capital of the Brazilian Republic. Its harbor is simply superb; its surroundings are unsurpassed; in beauty its centre the city itself, is the filthiest, most unhealthy hole on earth. The main business street is the Rua Ouvidor, about 18 feet wide, and a mile long, with an atmosphere as high as that of a bakeoven in full blast, and an aroma, which seems to be a concentrated quintessence of all that tends to offend our olfactory and pulmonary organs. Well, I got through, not once, but several times, for the shops and warehouses located here can vy in many respects with the best Broadway can show. There is a good theatre here, but after I had reached my hotel on the hill of Tijuca, about 4 miles out of town, I found the attractions of a charming home, in the midst of flowers and palms, and the coolest and most agreeable atmosphere so very enticing that I had not the heart to go back to town to see even the best of theatrical offerings, especially as my host, Mr. Moreau, an excellent old Frenchman, did his best to entertain me by detailing to me in a drastic fashion the surrounding points of interest. Corcovado with its railroad, looking from a distance like a huge rope-walk; Petropolis, across the bay, and the magnificent panorama in the hollow: the brilliantly illuminated City of Rio. From Rio I came to Montevideo, the capital of the Oriental Republic, at the mouth of the River Plate, on the opposite side of which, right facing, is situated the most important city of all South America, Buenos Ayres. I stopped a't Montevideo only long enough to catch a glimpse of its beautiful, clean streets, squares, fine buildings and— its lovely women. They are justly famous all through the South for their beauty, bewitching manners and unrestrained freedom, preserving withal absolute purity and modesty. The Platense steamers that ply between Montevideo and Buenos Ayres are a thing of beauty and a joy to be remembered forever. You board them just in time for dinner, which is simply superb, enjoy a good concert and a quiet sail, go to bed in a luxuriously fitted, comfortable cabin, awake for breakfast and find yourself in another country, the richest in the South, Argentina, the silver republic. As you leave the breakfast table and come on deck, you see before you on a gently rising slope the expanse of the city of good airs and breezes. You at once feel that you have arrived in the midst of fields of activity, business and progress, and you shake off, with a sigh, the indolent luxury which a fortnight's life of ease may have accustomed you to. Buenos Ayres is the centre of all the activity that pervades this immense Republic. From here start all the railroads: to the Andes, to the centre and to the east. It is the seat of the national Government, and the homestead of all the learning of the Southern Continent. It is clean and healthy, having a climate as balmy and temperate as that of Italy. Its population is composed mainly of Italians and Spaniards, and their descendants and a sprinkling of Germans, Americans and Englishmen. Well, my dear R., one evening I happened to stroll down Florida street, and coming to the corner of Cuyo, I noticed a crowd of people going into a large hall, the doors of which istood invitingly open. On closer inspection 1 found it to be a Phonograph parlor. I naturally felt an interest on your account and walked in, and I do not regret having done so. There was quite a crowd present, and it was a study to watch the various expressions produced on their faces by the mysterious sounds and words that came from a Phonograph of tue oldest pattern. Some thought it the trick of a clever ventriloquist, others opined that it was the work of the d— 1 and devoutly crossed themselves. Others again thought it was a deception of the senses. But none attributed it to the genius of a great mechanic; nobody assigned its origin to science. I staid until the people had thinned somewhat, and then managed to get into conversation with the demonstrator, who styled himself Professor Kyj. He was a wiry little Venezuelan, and his one aim seemed to be to make as much money as possible, with the least possible trouble and expense. He was by no means an apostle of science, his whole stock in trade consisted of an old second-hand Phonograph, about a dozen records, a black gladstone back, and an unlimited supply of cheek. He told me of the success he had met with up the river, at Rosario, Santa Fe, at the foot of the Andes, at San Juan del Estero, and all the other inland places of importance. I listened with interest, thinking all the while of you. Well, my friend, I showed my gratitude for the information he had given me by inviting the Professor to a small bottle, which we quaffed to the progress of the mystic Phonograph. This shows that there is a good field open here for phonographic and kindred business, and as I never allow my or any enthusiasm to cool down, I immediately started to turn my unexpected knowledge to good account on your behalf. With a number of friends of mine, all people of influence, I repaired next day to the Phonoparlor, where they listened with pleasure to my explanations of the Phonograph, but when I recounted to them the advances made in this machine since, and told them about the manufacture of records, they all saw that there was business right here. The addresses which I herewith enclose are the result of that day's work, and if you deem it worth your while to write to them full details, price lists, etc., I am sure you will do a large business in the South. The card which I have marked with blue pencil is that of a first-class business house in Buenos Ayres, having branch establishments both in Rosario and Santa Fe, the chef of which is a particular friend of mine, and in every way the proper man for this work. So be wise in time, oh Phyllis mine, and see what you can do. Hoping that you are getting on swimmingly, I remain with kind regards, Sincerely yours, AREVALO. Edison Edison has accomplished so much in the line of invention that it is popularly believed he has made no failures in that direction; but the truth is that he has been at work for years upon several hard problems which seem to be no nearer a solution to-day than they were when he began. For the last seven years he has been trying to derive electricity directly from coal without going through the usual process of heat, steam power and dynamo. "There's enough latent electrical energy in a pound of coal to carry it across the Atlantic," he said the other day, "yet we have never been able to utilize more than a very small fraction of it. I know how to get electricity from coal direct, but I don't know yet how to get enough of it."