The phonoscope (Nov 1896-Dec 1899)

Vol. t. No. 3 1 Our battler I heard a funny story a few days ago which will interest old phonograph exhibitors. Last year, during the Danbury Fair (in Conn.) eight exhibitors gathered on the grounds. All were surprised and worried, as they had each expected a "good thing " and a monopoly. In the evening after the Fair had closed for the da}-, they all happened to congregate at the same hotel. Strange to say, they all left their phonographs and batteries in the coat room for the night. About one or two o'clock in the morning one of the exhibitors, who hailed from Boston, came down stairs and carried his machine and battery up to his room, remarking that he did not feel quite at home without his " old side partner." It may have been but a coincidence, but next day the seven professors who had left their outfits in the coat room over night, found their batteries all dead when they tried to start their machines at the Fair grounds. The man from Boston was the "only pebble on the beach," and wore a bright smile all day as the nimble coins trickled into his coffers. The New York Advertiser says : Uptown residents, both on the east and west sides, are talking of amalgamating and starting a lantern factory somewhere near the Harlem River. The lantern will be of the miners' lamp pattern, but of much greater power, and will be backed by strong reflectors. They will be made so that they ma}' be carried in the pocket and easily attachable to the fronts of their owners' hats, so that their possessor may be able to read their newspapers on their way home in the foggy " L ' ' cars. It has been also suggested that phonographs which can speak real United States be placed in each car to announce where the trains are going to stop next, as the present mediums are frequently somewhat husky and untranslatable. Two scrub women were sent to clean up the rooms in which, on the previous night, a phonograph entertainmen thad been given. Their sleeves were rolled back from their water-wrinkled hands ; they wore blue-checked aprons and carried brooms. They did not set to work at once, as their curiosity prompted them to part with the last nickel they had to the ever greedy slot of the automatic phonograph, and they were soon leaning over the machine with rapt expressions on their face — solemn and horrified. ' ' I heard every word," said the younger woman as she left the machine, "and be the powers that man were a rigular divil to be sure, he ought ter be arrested. ' ' They had been listening to the confession of H. H. Holmes, the most appalling record of murder to which human tongue ever gave utterance. The talking machine is now used in Chicago as an aid in the teaching of foreign languages. An instructor in Spanish has a large number of records, which are intended to assist to a correct pronunciation. The student sits down with the talking machine and listens to its repeated pronunciation of a certain word and then he tries it for himself. There are also special lessons in reading and spelling. The instructor recently solicited a young business man to take a course of lessons in Spanish on the talking machine. "Why, I didn't know you could get those machines to talk foreign languages, ' ' said he. Senator Cullom stirred up a laugh in the Senate at Washington last month by reading a letter from the American Talking Machine Company, of Chicago, which declared that the bill fixing a rate of one cent on letters had passed the House and requesting the Illinois Senators to vote for it when it came up in the Senate. As no such bill has ever passed the House and has never even been seriously considered, some of the Senators on the floor felt justified in saying that the American Talking Machine Company, through mere force of habit, was apparently conversing through its headgear. Two young men, well known in the phonograph business, "went out and done it." Mr. Leon Douglas, of the Chicago Talking Machine Company, and C. H. Webster, of the National Film Company, were both married last month. Mr. Douglas went to San Francisco for his better half, and Mr. Webster across the bridge to Brooklyn. As " Casey " says : " May the Lord bless yees all entirely." As Mr. Douglas has handled many records in years past, I hope he will make a good record in his new venture. I know Mr. Webster is very sociable. He has my best wishes. A retired (not tired) graphophone exhibitor once told me that the best money-making record he had was a cylinder which was cracked "way across." He said it was an orchestra waltz selection and was cracked ( I mean the record ) in such a manner that the stylus passed over the crack in time with the music. He assured me that his patrons believed him when he explained to them the wonder of the machine — that would record the second violin played in the orchestra tapping his foot on the floor. An Eastern company received a communication from a Maine man last month, who claimed he had discovered a paint which, when gently applied to a talking machine cylinder, " would remove that scratching sound." I'll wager a ham sandwich that there's a scratchy sound in our friend's head. I have believed some of these rural inventors who could "mend" cracked cylinders, etc., but I can't stand for the paint. Those nickel-in-the-slot machines are a great institution, said a tobacconist to me the other day. Lots of men come in and play my machine, when they don't smoke, just for the excitement of risking money. And then, if they win, they give away the cigars to all their friends. There is a fascination about playing it that helps out my sales considerably. H Sagacious Hmmal Automatic machines are like cupboards to which the public hold the key in the shape of a coin of a given size. They cau be made to supply almost all the commodities of life, and they are generally so simple that a child can use them. But that there has been in actual use for a number of years an automatic store worked by a brute beast may not be so generally known outside of England. In the Zoological Gardens of Manchester there is a pet elephant who is always on the lookout for pennies. As soon as he receives a penny from a visitor or keeper he struts up to a box which has been fixed in a corner of his pen, drops the penny into a slot contrived on the top of the box, and, with his trunk, pulls out a drawer from which he takes a bun or roll of bread in exchange for his penny. He then pushes the drawer back, enjoys his roll or bun and is again ready for another penny. The animal knows perfectly well the difference between a penny and a half penny. As soon as it has got two half pennies it tries to have them exchanged for a penny, which it knows is the only key to his bun-box. He never neglects to push back tne drawer after having helped himself. He seems to understand clearly all the mechanism of his automatic store and the conditions under which it will supply him with buns or rolls. More honest than most human beings, the animal has never yet attempted to tamper with the machine by force or fraud, although he might do so at any time with absolute impunity. On the contrary, he seems to watch over this box with the care of an affectionate nurse. Should, by chance, the supply of the box have run out and thereby the elephant have lost his penny, he will trumpet loud and long until the caterer has refilled it and returned to him the penny he had dropped into the box without results. Thus a simple mechanism has sufficed to enable a dumb animal to go through all the transactions of buying and selling in a perfectly correct and business-like manner. To watch this ponderous mass of animated flesh act in such an intelligent and prudent way opens up a great field for thought and reflection. There may be, after all, only very little difference between the dumb beast and the prating, boastful one called Man. Mbere Zhe? Mere Brbibtteb last flftontb The Vitascope Melodeon Hall, Lexington, Ky. ; Auditorium, Toledo, O. ; Grand and Bittner Theatre. Sioux City, la. ; Heck and Avery's Museum, Cincinnati, O. ; Elston's Hall, Norristown, Pa. ; Grand Opera House, Stamford, Conn. ; Turner Opera House, Green Bay, Wis.; Grand, Columbus, O.; Association Hall, Dayton, O. The Projectoscope Y. M. C. A. Hall, Williamsport, Pa. ; Bijou Theatre, Harrisburg, Pa. ; Academy of Music, Macon, Ga. ; City Opera House, Frederick, Md. ; Grand Opera House, Harrisburg, Pa. ; York Opera House, York City, Pa. The Cinematographe Avenue Theatre, Pittsburg, Pa. ; Park City Theatre, Bridgeport, Conn. ; Schiller Theatre, Chicago, 111. ; Gillis Opera House, Kansas City, Mo. ; Unity Hall, Hartford, Conn. ; Metropolitan, St. Paul, Minn. ; Willard Hall, Washington, D. C. ; Kieth's. Boston, Mass. ; Eden Musee, New York City ; Grand Opera House, New Haven, Conn. The Cinographoscope Parke Theatre, Dayton, O. ; Masonic Temple, Saginaw, Mich. ; Theatre, Savannah, Ga. The Photoscope Ross Street Presbyterian Church, Brooklyn, N. Y. ; Grand, Portsmouth, O. ; Opera House, Youngstown, O. The Centographe Opera House, Danbury, Conn. The Animotoscope Nelson Memorial Hall, Wilkesbarre, Pa.; Grand Opera House, Lock Haven, Pa. The Biograph Bijou Theatre, Philadelphia, Pa. ; Wonderland, New Haven, Conn. ; Kieth's, Boston, Mass. ; Kieth's, New York City. The Animatograph Russel's Opera House, Centerville, la.