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130
Radio Broadcast
car, being connected to the storage battery, acts as a counterpoise or series capacity to earth.
This set has never failed to please me. Always it seems that the running board of a car is a very unusual place for a radio. I like the equipment not only for its beautiful construction, but because it has given me more than six thousand miles of perfect service on our zig-zag trail across the United States. It has satisfied a great many personal "radio desires."
The first tests and first impressions seem a long time ago. I smile to think how carefully I drove away from the factory after the set had been installed the day before we headed west. Every little eighth-inch bump drew my foot to the brake! Later the same evening we drove uptown in New York to find a store where I might get a leather coat. On the return along Riverside Drive my fingers itched to turn the dials of the new receiving set. Last moment preparations had left no time for previous tests. We pulled up by the curb, opened the case, and in a moment, we had music rolling out clear and loud. I thought, "All this and with so little effort!" It had seemed useless to try the outfit when driving, because of ignition interference. However, I felt sure that the motor spark could not affect such strong signals, so I started the motor to make the test. One had to stand very close to the loud speaker
to hear the click, click, click of the motor spark. Nothing could have pleased me more. It meant a radio ride now and then, provided that the lighted filaments would stand the vibration. We continued down Broadway and serenaded the folks crowding from the theatres and cafes. There was not the slightest irregularity due to changes in tuning or tube vibration. This first radio ridej is an experience that I shall not soon forget.
We left New York rather hurriedly the next afternoon. There was no time for system. Typewriters, camp stove, tent, suit cases, blankets, brief-cases, artists' materials and all sorts of necessary equipment were loaded in the quickest possible way. A motorcycle police escort piloted us at thirty miles an hour through the thick of traffic to the city limits, from the City Hall where Mayor Hylan had presented us with a sheepskin scroll — a letter of greeting to "fellow mayors around the world." When finally we reached the city line, the cops asked how the radio was riding. I opened the set, and finding everything all right (rather to my surprise) gave them a little concert in appreciation of the swift and thrilling ride. As we drove on, I wondered how long it would be before something broke inside the little black case.
On the way up the Hudson, I was anticipating a first night test in camp. High over the river, across from Poughkeepsie, we drove in the shiny new stakes and erected a brand new
THE WORKS FROM WITHIN