The phonoscope (Nov 1896-Dec 1899)

14 THE PHONOSCOPE April, 1899 Ibow Me (Save a fl>bono$rapb part£ T was Charlotte's plan. The idea struck her suddenly (they always do come to her that way) during an evening we were spending over at the Openeer's. Young Mrs. Openeer had asked us to dine with them and play whist: but after dinner Mr. Openeer started one of his Phonographs so that we could hear an opera we had been talking about, and r cards were entirely forgotten. It was delightful. They had lots of the wax records— almost a complete score of the opera in question. The talk naturally turned on how it was all done, for it seemed perfectly wonderful. So he showed us all about it, and that's how Charlotte's inspiration came. "I have it, I have it" she whispered excitedly the moment we left the house, and she almost pushed me down the steps in her eagerness. "We will give a Phonograph Party, and it will be the newest and most delightful thing out" and she straightway unfolded the whole scheme as we crossed the street to our house. By the time we had climbed up to our room the schedule was complete. I must say that Charlotte is a quick and ready thinker. Her plan was fine. You see she teaches mathematics in the high school, while I have only a kindergarten class. She thought the idea and I completed the practical arrangements ; and between us, we planned an entertainment which I am sure will be long remembered by our friends as a very happy evening. We sent out our invitations the very next day, for Wednesday evening of the following week. To Beverly Dunlap's we added a line "Bring your Cornet." To Alice Blanks' "Please bring your banjo." Will Hamilton's also a "banjo" postscript and Xat Browton's a "clarinet" item. Charlotte had a violin and I a guitar, which, with the piano, (fortunately an upright) would give a variety of instrumental music for the occasion. In each of the other notes, we wrote the mystifying words "Please bring your voice." To Mr. and Mrs. Openeer's invitation Charlotte insisted on adding, (as a matter of form only she explained to me) "Please bring your Phonographs ;" for we had already enlisted their co-operation, and Mr. Openeer had entered into our plan with enthusiasm. He loaned us not one, but two Phonographs "for convenience sake" said he "one for recording and one for reproducing. Saves the bother of changing speakers and horns." He also insisted on furnishing us with a plentiful supply of smooth wax cylinders or blanks as they are called ; at the same time offering us his services as an expert, should we need him. The next few days, saw us busy at every spare moment. First we tried and experimented in ~~ every possible way with ' the Phonograph, mak J^t-* |l ing record after record, '^feiS j 1 until we found out <fc==W^Ers just how to do it. It's T" wonderfully simple if you &, I only know how — (like I" tkK everything else in this — ™"" world for that matter). Mr. Openeer offered to teach us, but we wanted to find out all by ourselves ; and we did very nicely by following the printed instructions which he furnished us. Then we had the refreshments to prepare. Charlotte gave way to nn ideas in this matter, and my kindergarten training suggested that we get some jelly glasses that were just the right size, two and a half inches across and four inches deep. Into these we packed our ice-cream after we made it, so that each guest should have a "frozen record" just like that great fib of Baron Munchausen's. We also made ginger snaps in the shape of a horn, by fashioning a cake cutter out of a strip of tin. All our plans matured beautifully, except that Charlotte scorched two whole pans of ginger snaps, and let some salt get into the ice cream tins; Charlotte was never good at those things. Every one of our guests came on Wednesday evening ; every one of them as curious as an original Eve (or Adam) and every one of them delighted on learning what was in prospect. We commenced right away with the cornet. It makes a fine loud record, and we wanted to start off auspiciously. We had placed our Recording Phonograph high up on a small table on top of a larger table, so that the horn was about on a level with Mr. Dunlap's head, as he stood ready to play. The shape of the horn too, makes some little difference. Mr. Openeer loaned us his recording horn for our party. It was fully two feet long and shaped like a cone. It had no flare or bell on the end, which was about 6 or 7 inches , across. Our equipment was really quite perfect. The second Phonograph stood on one end of a large table and was fitted with a reproducing diaphragm or speak er as they call it. It also had a small fourteen inch bell-shaped horn, which shape seems to spread the sound better than the other. I attended to the machine, put on a new blank and started it, while Charlotte started each performer. At the close of each record taking, I stopped the machine, took off the record and put it on the reproducing Phonograph, and we all heard what had just been played into the other machine, reproducing with startling and marvelous exactness. I will say right here that a single Phonograph with two speakers and a bell-shaped horn would have been all that was absolutely necessary. The only advantage of having two Phonographs was that it saved the delay ( a very small matter) of changing the recording speaker for the reproducer after each record was made. As directed by Charlotte, Mr. Dunlap stood about 5 feet away, and played directly into the horn. He gave a short aria from "Maritana," playing it with considerable volume and with even, well sustained notes, with but little attempt at expression. He used only half his record in a minute and a half, so Charlotte whispered "Do you know any bugle calls? (Dunlap was in camp at Jacksonville all through the war ). His laughing answer "Do I know any bugle calls by heart? well rather !" made us all laugh too. It was wonderful the way he made his cornet fairly talk. "I can't get 'em up I can't get 'em up I can't get 'em up In the morning." His attempt ended in a storm of applause, which was repeated a few minutes later when I changed his record to the other Phonograph and reproduced it. First came the aria, loud and clear and distinct. Then a pause of a few seconds. Then a big manlv voice said "Do I know any bugle calls by heart? Well rather" How we all shouted ! It did sound so funny. Then came his bugle calls and a faint clapping of hands and then our real applause. Our first record was a success ! Then Nat Browton played his clarinet ; and the reproduction was so perfect that we could actually hear his breathing. Those quick little gasps for breath that I for one, had never particularly noticed, until the reproduction of the record called it to my attention. He played directly into the horn, and as close to it as he could. Then we had several vocal solos. Each singer stood close to the horn, with the face almost within the opening. Charlotte cautioned them all to sing rather loud and to be particularly careful to draw