No More Last Forty Winks

1914

Fiend Has Invented an Alarm Clock That Simply Insists on One's Rising in the Morning

It has often seemed, after the announcement of an invention to which the attention of the entire civilized world has been called, that the human mind could scarcely invent anything more and fashion it in material form, but the countless dreams of inventors continue to be realized in astounding numbers.

Every week, every month, the trade journals advertise and comment upon new things in the lines which they represent and publish new ideas which this material labor-saving age seizes and makes its own.

An alarm clock which awakens you with the words of a disgusted wife who has breakfast on the table, and a large vessel which carries submarines over long distances by means of a "pouch" are among the newest offerings.

As an ever present need, the alarm clock will probably be put into more general household use than the ship with the "pouch" for carrying submarines. In the evening before retiring you set the clock for 6:30; at 6:30 you will probably get up. Here is what will waken you:

"Six-thirty, six-thirty, six-thirty; time to get up; get up, can't you? Get up you miserable, lazy man. Get up, get up, get up!"

The first clock of this kind was exhibited in 1900, but it cost $2,500 to make it. The present offering costs $25. If you are awake in the middle of the night and wish to know the time, press a button and the clock will tell you the nearest quarter hour as: "Two-fifteen," if it happens to be 2:13 or 2:18. The phonographic record is on an endless belt and the grooves in which the voice vibrations are recorded run lengthwise of the belt. The belt continues to give out sound until shut off when once started. So far the clocks have been supplied with belts which talk in thirty-five languages.

The Kaiser's Voice

1906

His Words Preserved on First Permanent Roll in Phonetic Archives

One of the novelties of the last few years is the establishment of phonetic archives, in which the voices of noteworthy persons are to be preserved.

The first record actually taken for such a permanent archive in America was that of a European. Through the American Ambassador Charlemagne Tower, I applied for a "record of the voice of the German emperor, for preservation in durable material in Harvard University, the National Museum at Washington, and the Library of Congress at Washington. The record is to be kept as a historical document for posterity. The Phonetic Archives at the institutions mentioned are to include records from such persons as will presumably have permanent historical interest for America. The importance of the undertaking can be estimated by considering the present value of voice records by Demosthenes, Shakespeare, or Emperor William the Great."

The Emperor consented, and the apparatus was set up in the palace. I asked for four records, one for each of the institutions mentioned and one for my own scientific investigation. The Emperor, however, made only two records, designating one for Harvard University and the other for other purposes. The two records were made by a phonograph (with specially selected recorders) on wax cylinders. Such cylinders are of no permanent value, because they are often injured by mold, and sooner or later they always crack, owing to changes in temperature.

From each original "master record" a metal matrix was made by coating it with graphite and then galvanoplating it. The wax master record was then removed (being destroyed in the process), leaving a mold from which "positives" — that is copies of the original — could be cast in a hard shellac composition and in celluloid. Some casts were also made in wax, and new metal matrices were made from these. In this manner the following material was obtained: (1) A metal matrix and positive of Record No. 1, deposited in the National Museum at Washington; (2) a similar set of Record No. 1, deposited in the Congressional Library at Washington; (3) a similar set of Record No. 2, deposited in Harvard University; (4) a complete set for both records (a metal matrix and a positive of each), which I presented to the Emperor; and (5) a reserve set of both. These are the only records of the German Emperor's voice which exist at the present time. — The Century.

Lady Speaks to Him Only with Her Eyes

Indiana, 1916

But Interpreter Spins a Long Story from the Conversation.

Mrs. Joe Pogzelaski, of Hayden street, was called to the stand in the city court, Monday, to testify as to the conduct of her husband, who was drunk Sunday and creating a disturbance at home. Neither Joe nor Mrs. Joe could speak English and an interpreter was called.

Mr. Beklixyzski volunteered the use of both his English and Polish vocabularies.

"Ask him if he is guilty," said Judge H. Waveland Kerr to the interpreter.

"He says he will never do it again," volunteered the interpreter before the prisoner had a chance to say a word.

After some sparring between the court and the interpreter Judge Kerr asked for Mrs. Joe. She was sworn and sat gazing into the face of the interpreter. "Ask her if her husband struck her over the head with a beer bottle," instructed the court.

"She say they been married twenty-two year and never had no trouble and she want him to come home and he won't do it any more" — and a whole lot more, said the interpreter.

Mrs. Joe had said not a word. If she spoke it was with her eyes and she might have wig-wagged the message to the court through the interpreter, but there was reasonable doubt even of that. For five minutes Judge Kerr sought to find out whether Mr. Joe had assaulted Mrs. Joe. It was futile. The woman said nothing, whereas, the interpreter discharged conversation like a whole battery of phonographs.

Then Mr. Joe, Mrs. Joe and the interpreter got their heads together for a three-cornered talk-test, the upshot of which was a translation by the interpreter that Mr. Joe wanted very much to go home. Judge Kerr gave up in despair and continued the case until Tuesday, sending Mr. Joe to jail. When the police arrived at the Hayden street residence Sunday they found no end of beer, a bottle of whisky and broken bottles all over the house and in the street. Mrs. Joe had taken refuge across the street.

—The Fort Wayne Weekly Sentinel, Fort Wayne, Indiana, April 26, 1916, p. 4.

The Talking Phonograph

1878

Mr. Thomas A. Edison recently came into this office, says the Scientific American, placed a little machine on our desk, turned a crank, and the machine inquired as to our health, asked how we liked the phonograph, informed us that it was very well, and bid us a cordial good night. These remarks were not only perfectly audible to ourselves, but to a dozen or more persons gathered around, and they were produced by the aid of no other mechanism than the simple little contrivance mentioned.

No matter how familiar a person may be with modern machinery and its wonderful performance, or how clear in his mind the principle underlying this strange device may be, it is impossible to listen to the mechanical speech without his experiencing the idea that his senses are deceiving him. We have heard other talking machines. The Faber apparatus for example is a large affair as big as a parlor organ. It has a key board, rubber larynx and lips, and an immense amount of ingenious mechanism which combines to produce something like articulation in a single monotonous organ note. But here is a little affair of a few pieces of metal, set up roughly on an iron stand about a foot square, that talks in such a way, that, even in its present imperfect form many words are not clearly distinguishable, there can be no doubt but that the inflections are those of nothing else than the human voice.

We have already pointed out the startling possibility of the voices of the dead being reheard through this device, and there is no doubt but that its capabilities are fully equal to other results just as astonishing. When it becomes possible as it doubtless will, to magnify the sound, the voices of such singers as Parepa and Titiens will not die with them, but will remain as long as the metal in which they may be embodied will last. The witness in court will find his own testimony repeated by machine so that it will be reproduced in a way that will leave no question as to his devising capacity or sanity. It is really possible by ingenious optical contrivances to throw stereoscopic photographs of people on screens in full view of an audience. Add the talking phonograph to counterfeit their voices, and it would be difficult to carry the illusion of real presence much further.

Uses of the Phonograph — Backmasking, Mashups Foretold In 1878

1878

Uses of the Phonograph.

For public uses we shall have galleries where phonograph sheets will be preserved as photographs and books now are. The utterances of great speakers and singers will there be kept for a thousand years. In these galleries spoken languages will be preserved from century to century, with all the peculiarities of pronunciation, dialect, or brogue. As we go now to see the stereopticon, we shall go to public halls to hear these treasures of speech and song brought out and reproduced as loud, or louder, than when first spoken or sung by the truly great ones of earth. Certainly, within a dozen years, some of the great singers will be induced to sing into the ear of the phonograph, and the electrotyped cylinders thence obtained will be put into the hand-organs of the streets, and we shall hear the actual voice of Christine Nilsson or Miss Cary ground out at every corner.

In public exhibitions, also, we shall have reproductions of the sounds of nature, and of noises familiar and unfamiliar. Nothing will be easier than to catch the sounds of the waves on the beach, the roar of Niagara, the discords of the streets, the noises of animals, the puffing and rush of the railroad train, the rolling of thunder, or even the tumult of a battle.

When popular airs are sung into the phonograph, and the notes are then reproduced in reverse order, very curious and beautiful musical effects are sometimes produced, having no apparent resemblance to those contained in their originals. The instrument may thus be used as a sort of musical kaleidoscope, by means of which an infinite variety of new combinations may be produced from the musical compositions now in existence.

The speaking phonograph, will, doubtless, be applied to bell-punches, clocks, complaint boxes in public conveyances and to toys of all kinds. It will supersede the short-hand writer in taking letters by dictation and in taking testimony before referees. Phonographic letters will be sent by mail, the foil being wound on paper cylinders of the size of a finger. It will recite poems in the voice of the author, and reproduce the speeches of celebrated orators. Dramas will be produced in which all the parts will be "well spoken — with good accent, and good discretion;" the original matrice being prepared on one machine provided with a rubber tube having several mouthpieces; and Madame Tussaud's figures will hereafter talk, as well as look like their great prototypes! — Scribner.

—Daily Star, Marion, OH, April 22, 1878, p. 2.

Demonstrating Edison's Marvelous Phonograph

1878

A Phonograph At Work

Making a Plate from Which a Perfect Production of Your Speech Can be Made When You Are in Your Grave

The Philadelphia Times has an article describing Professor Edison's marvelous phonograph and how it works. We make the following extract:

The instrument was operated sometimes by Mr. Bentley, but principally by Mr. James Adams, the inventor's representative. Mr. Adams, a highly intelligent Scotchman, with a strongly marked Scotch accent in his speech, has been for five years the assistant of Professor Edison in the latter's electrical and other experiments. The machine occupied no more space than would a Webster's unabridged, and its construction appeared as simple as that of a housewife's coffee mill. It was a fac simile of one which Professor Edison is now constructing, and which is to have a capacity of 48,000 words.

Mr. Adams, before the performance began, thus explained the instrument: "In this gutta percha mouthpiece is a very thin diaphragm, made of tin type metal. The vibrations of the voice jar the diaphragm, which has in its center, underneath, a fine steel point. Around this brass cylinder, which, you see, is closely and finely grooved by a spiral, I wrap a sheet of tinfoil. I shove the mouthpiece up until the steel point touches the tinfoil, just above the first groove on the left. Turning the cylinder with this crank, I talk into the mouthpiece. The diaphragm vibrates, causing the steel point to perforate the tinfoil, leaving little holes of different diameters and resembling the old Morse telegraphic alphabet. The cylinder moves from left to right until the steel point has gone over the entire length of the spiral. Thus we have, as it were, a stereotyped plate of the voice. From this plate a matrix in sulphur (the most desirable substance for the purpose) can be formed, and years from now there can be taken from that matrix other plates capable of the same work which you will presently see this one perform.

"Now I turn the cylinder back to the starting place in order that the steel point may go over the perforations which it made when I talked into the mouthpiece. The steel point, kept down by a rubber spring underneath the diaphragm trips from hole to hole, causing the diaphragm to vibrate as it did when I was talking into the mouthpiece. This causing the corresponding opening and closing of the valves of the diaphragm, the words, intonation and accent are reproduced with perfect accuracy. It would be impossible for any human mimic to do it so well. The small end of this tin funnel is fixed in the mouthpiece to keep the reproduction from scattering. Now listen." Several gentlemen, evidently supposing that they would not be able to hear without having their ears close to the funnel, were putting their heads near the instrument, but Mr. Adams told them that such a proceeding was unnecessary, as they could distinguish the sounds well enough at a distance.

Mr. Adams, Having wrapped a sheet of tin foil around the cylinder, spoke into the mouthpiece in a voice of ordinary pitch and time, but with distinct articulation, meanwhile slowly and regularly turning the crank, the following:

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To get a bucket of water;
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.

Having reset the cylinder and fixed the funnel in the mouthpiece he turned the crank and the diaphragm repeated the rhyme, not only as distinctly as he had uttered it, but with so perfect a mimicry of the Scotch accent as to cause a general outburst of laughter, in which the genial operator heartily joined.

Causing the steel point to proceed from the ending of "Jack and Jill," Mr. Adams again put his mouth to the diaphragm and uttered in more varying tones, which had a range from almost a whisper up to a screeching soprano, the following:

Hallo! Hoop-la! Ya-hoo!
Nineteen years in the bastile!
I scratched my name upon the wall
And that name was Robert Landr-y-y-y,
Parlee vous Francais? Sprechen sie Deutsch?

Turning the crank backward until the steel point touched the beginning of "Jack and Jill," he again gave the forward motion. The diaphragm's elocution of the rhyme was on this occasion as good as before, and the second conglomeration of utterance was delivered by the vibrating metal with all the characteristics of the operator's ejaculations and recitation. For the sake of novelty the steel point was now caused to go along the perforated spiral, while Mr. Adams whistled, yelled and shouted all sorts of ridiculous things into the mouth-piece. As a result the bit of metal strongly affected the risible muscles of the audience by something like this:—

Jack and Jill went—"Cheese it!"—
Up the hill
To get a bucket—"O, wipe off your chin!" —
Of water.
Jack fell down and "Hello, young—"
Broke his crown
"Feller, does your mother know you're out?"
And Jill—"Ya-hoo! I've bottled myself Edison"—
Came tumbling after.

Hallo! hoopla!—"Shut up !"—ya-hoo!
"Go bag your head!"—Nineteen years in the Bastile.
"I'm a"—Scratched my name—"a jolly Irishman "—Upon the wall
And that—"From Dublin town I came"—
Name was—"Ha, ha, ha!"—Robert Landry-y-y.
Parlee vous Francais? -"Go hire a hall!"
Sprechen sie Deutsch?—"Go, give us a rest!

The effect of this was too ludicrous for description, and for a time all hands were uncontrollably merry. Having put on and caused the steel point to perforate a new sheet of tin foil, again speaking "Jack and Jill" into the instrument, Mr. Adams made the point travel backward, and the diaphragm reproduced the recitation, beginning with the last word, "after," and ending with the first word, "Jack." In this way the operator amused his audience for an hour. He became hoarse, but the instrument did not.

There is no electricity about the speaking phonograph, and, like so many other great inventions, its construction is so simple and its operation so easily understood that a person seeing it would probably ask himself, "Now, why didn't I think of that?"

—Daily Star, Marion, OH, April 22, 1878, p. 3.

Note About Some of Our Town Folk

Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907

Concert size cylinder records, six inches in length, containing the latest songs and most popular music, just received by Reton Bros. & Co.

Pupils of Miss Helen Marie Hein will give a piano and violin recital at her home at 8 o'clock this evening. Fifteen members of her advanced class will participate in the program.

Mrs. John Hawn, who has been a patient at St. Mary's hospital in Milwaukee during the past few weeks, is steadily improving and it is expected that she can return home within another week.

Marty Lee returned Sunday morning from Crystal Falls, Mich., after an absence of several months. Marty will remain here during the summer, being employed at his trade as a plumber, and will catch for the local base ball club.

A spark from a passing locomotive or from the foundry furnace ignited a moulding cast in the yards adjoining the John Rice foundry at about 4 o'clock Saturday afternoon. The department was summoned, but no damage resulted.

A richly furnished, rubber tired and leather upholstered opera coach has been added to the livery equipment of John W. Archibald, the enterprising Strongs avenue hustler.

Henry Coll, a Chicago architect, is engaged in preparing the plans for the proposed Polish brewery, and it is expected they will be ready for the contractors in a short time.

Jas. A. Bremmer, the one armed veteran of the civil war who has been in poor health all winter, suffering with stomach trouble, left here last Monday for Minneapolis to take treatment in a hospital. It is hoped that Mr. Bremmer will return fully recovered.

An enormous log drive, the largest of many years, in charge of forty men, was started at Tomahawk on Monday, May 13th, the logs being destined for Merrill, Wausau and other points along the Wisconsin river.

E. O. Westerfield, of Hatley, visited here Friday and Saturday with his brother-in-law, Dr. W. H. Wilson. The latter spent Sunday at Hatley and secured a nice string of brook trout during a few hours fishing.

—The Gazette, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907.

Latest Progress: Phonograph Croons Baby Lullabies, Cradle Rocks

1903

Brass Lullabies for Babies.

Further cause for indignation among the cult, that is for getting back to nature and old-fashioned ideals as fast as possible will be supplied by the newly invented machine of a Swiss mechanic.

It is an automatic nurse for babies, and is attached to the cradle. If the baby cries, the air waves cause specially arranged wires to operate a phonograph, which croons a lullaby, while clockwork released simultaneously causes the cradle to rock.

How the heart will be stirred at the sight of the motherly brass phonograph bending over the grieving pink and white mite in the cradle, "crooning" a lullaby. Did you ever hear a phonograph croon? It croons in a sad, low tone like an X-ray machine and a torn cat singing a duet. It ought to cultivate a taste for music in the infant mind that might materially affect the voice quality.—St, Louis Globe-Democrat.

—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, March 5, 1903, page 6.