The phonoscope (Nov 1896-Dec 1899)

12 THE PHONOSCOPE Ipbonoorapb Sbovt Stories Last Christmas my wife and I were invited to a house party at Larchmont, New York. The gray afternoon was deepening into dim dust as the sleigh left the little station, and the cold was intense. Our fifteen minutes' ride to the home of our host chilled us through and through, and as we fumbled with wraps and gloves in the x£S£p silent hall of the z^jfy^j^k-T* house, ™it* ffafilino'c ~ _JS-J . our feelings were divided between personal discomfort and wonderment that no one was there to greet us. Suddenly there piped up a thin little voice seeming to come from nowhere. It grew louder and stronger, and we heard "Merry Christmas, merry, merry Christmas. Welcome, Mr. Openeer; we are glad to see you. Welcome, Mrs. Openeer; how is the baby? How did you leave Pon jo?" (Ponjo is our dog. ) We looked around bewildered. The voice continued : ''Take off your wraps ; lay them on the table. James will see them safely laid away." Astonishment gave way to curiosity, and we drew aside'a curtain and found the cheery speaker to be — a Phonograph. Then through a half-open door we heard whisperings and merry laughter as the uncanny little machine went on to sing for us a Christmas glee. Before it was finished the children of the house came running in laughing, followed by our hostess and the other guests ; and we saw and felt heartily the double welcome that had been prepared for us. The surprise had all been planned. Our host had talked and sung this Christmas greeting into the Phonograph the night before, making a "record" with which the comes Jack," called one of the children from the porte cochere window ; and hastily adjusting the wax cylinder ticketed "Halsey," we waited in the dining-room and den with half-open doors as they entered. "Hello, Jack," said the Phonograph behind the curtain, "How d'ye do, Clara? Glad to see you. Come in and stay a while." They stopped and stared around, bewildered, just as we had done, things. Merry Christmas." And 'Take off your then, without Jolly little machine could greet each guest as he arrived. We saw it all when Jack Halsey and his sister came, about five minutes later. "Here stopping, the wonderful toy began to play the banjo. Then we all of us burst in upon the astonished pair, and welcomed them amid shouts of laughter. The thing entertained us all next day. When we tired of hearing our own voices fired back at us, we played the piano for it. Then we made a quartette of banjoists ; then our host played the cornet ; then we sang — solos, duets and choruses ; and the "bally little mocker," as Algy Dunraven called it, gave us every time as good as we gave it. Why, it was perfectly wonderful ! Then we were entertained with boughten records. Selections by famous bands and orchestras, operatic, military marches and dance music, all in perfect time, and loud and clear. Songs by famous singers, speeches by famous men, funny talks and dialect records. Why, we spent a delightful time. Our host told us confidentially that had he engaged the artists, performers and bands to appear in person, a thousand dollars would have been a reasonable price for the entertainment that was provided for less than a tenth of that sum. And, best of all, he could repeat the whole programme the very next night if he wanted to. And we believed every word, because we had heard it all ourselves. I have since bought a Phonograph for myself ; and have been repaid a hundred times for the investment, by the fun and entertainment I've got out of it. My advice to my friends is, "Go and do likewise." fj^H t£ My wife called on our next door neighbor the other day to sympathize with her ove rthe loss of their eight-year-old boy. The\ had bought a Phonograph, by the way, immediately on hearing ours. Well, the conversation naturally was about the dear little fellow who had just crossed over the Dark River. And she could not stop talking to my wife about his pretty eyes and curly hair and laughing voice. "It's one of the greatest consolations that I have these," she said, going to her record cabinet ; and carefully taking from it three of the wax cylinders, she put one on the machine. The next moment it was as if Harry was in the room. First came his merry laugh, then an aside, "Dear mamma, do keep quiet while I speak my piece." Then came a steady little voice, clear and strong — "A tiny little seed am I, In the mold, lliddeu from the great blue sky And the cold. I throw my little rootlets out And feel around. There I almost turned about In the ground. Did I heir a bluebird sing? Can it be, If I did it must be spring. I'll go and set." Then there sounded a clapping of hands and bits of conversation. His mother sat there with tears in her eyes, but with a joyous look on her face. "My precious firstborn," was all she said. And one of the first things my wife did when she came home that afternoon was to take our poor little youngster and make half a dozen records of /S<=-% his chatter and baby talk right away. I fancy him listening to those "talks" twenty years from now ! But should he be taken from us in the meanwhile, I know I'd hold them as my most highly-prized possession. t$ t$ t£ I heard a novel use for a Phonograph the other da}'. Teaching languages, — what do you think of that ? My wife told me about it. Somewhere in her afternoon calls she saw the whole thing.. There was a Phonjraph grinding off a French cylinder had been specially prepared by visiting teacher the day before : ai, tu as, il a, elle a, nous avons, 'ous avez, ils ont' elles ont," over and over. Then "Avez vous le pain, avez vous le pain," and so on through a long list of ivords and phrases. Parrot like, perhaps, but there was the pronounciation and accent. Capital ! ^.The children couldn't get away from it. Then came a German record, "Der die das, des der des, dem der dem," and so on. The broad a, the short i, the funny o in Konig, the elusive and difficult umlaut. "Haben sie das Brod. Wo ismeinHut? Ich liebe dich," and little poems and couplets. "Man sieht sieh, lernt sich kennen, Liebt sich, muss sich trennen." Rather advanced for children, ^ this ; but I suppose their teacher was in love and felt a bit sentimental just then. "Ein verhungert Huhnchen fand Einen feinen Diamant Und verscharrt inn in den Sand." This was better. But the whole idea struck me very forcibly. The difficult pronunciation was there— always on tap — over and over, sinking deep into the minds and memories of the little youngsters, and especially so because it was a novelty. Ah ! that's the point. New ideas appeal to children just as much as to "grown tips." I look forward to the day when a great many other things besides the languages will be taught through the aid of this marvelous little talking-machine.