Signals To Mars

1901

What a British Scientist Thinks of Their Possibility

In a London newspaper Sir Robert S. Ball writes of the futility of human endeavor to attract the attention of possible inhabitants of Mars. He says: "If the whole extent of Lake Superior was covered with petroleum and if that petroleum was set on fire, then I think we may admit that an inhabitant of Mars who was furnished with a telescope as good as that which Mr. Percival Lowell uses at Flagstaff might be able to see that something had happened. But we must not suppose that the mighty conflagration would appear to the Martian as a very conspicuous object.

"It would rather be a very small feature, but still I think it would not be beyond reach of a practical observer in that planet. On the other hand, if an area the size of Lake Superior on Mars was to be flooded with petroleum and that petroleum was to be kindled we should expect to witness the event from here not as a great and striking conflagration, but as a tiny little point of just discernible light. The disk of Mars is not a large object, and the conflagration would not extend over the three-hundredth part of that disk.

"It is sufficient to state these facts to show that the possibility of signaling to Mars is entirely beyond the power of human resources."

Telephone in the Woods

1905

"I've been reading," remarked a citizen who spends five months of every year in the woods, "that the telephone is a great convenience in the wilderness. The Electrical Review says that throughout the forests, from St. John to Vancouver, the telephone brings the lumber camps into touch with one another, letters are read to lumbermen snowed in 50 or 300 miles from civilization and the human side of life is made warmer and more vivid by this means of communication.

"A telephone does heat up considerably anywhere, especially when it won't work; but I'm inclined to think a telephone in the wilderness is a great nuisance instead of a great convenience. What an angler, hunter or botanist wants of one of the things is more than I can understand. They've got the Adirondacks fixed so that there's a push button in every other tree, and if you stub your toe a waiter'll pop out of the bushes with a champagne cocktail or a telegram. That's all right, perhaps, but why not stay in the Waldorf?

"A telephone in the woods is a good thing for game, though. We had our cabin wired to a village down at the end of the railroad one summer. Never again for me. I'd be dangling for trout. 'John, John,' would come my wife's voice, resounding through the aisles of pine and hemlock. 'What?' I'd say, mad clean through. 'Your Boston brokers want to talk with you a minute.' Or I'd be almost within range of a deer and that same 'John' would come floating on the air from the shanty. 'What?' I'd have to call back, and the deer'd be in the next county. 'New York's waiting; long distance,' the servant would holler. "Line's held open for you.' The only trout I got that season was a tame one I bought of a man who fattens 'em for market, and the only thing I shot was the ace of spades. I tacked it up the last day and blazed at it for spite. And now," he concluded, "when I go into the woods the central office can't find me with a guide and a brass band." — Providence Journal.

The Story of a Message

1900

Among stories of war, few are more thrilling than those of dispatches carried through an enemy's country. An instance given by the author of "East Tennessee and the Civil War" offers a striking picture of the almost infinite dangers which often attend upon such a service.

During the siege of Knoxville, it was imperative for Grant, at Chattanooga, to communicate with General Burnside. He sent five couriers with dispatches, by as many different routes. One of the messengers was never heard of again. Three were taken prisoners, and the fifth, arriving at Kingston, after a ride of eighty miles, was too thoroughly exhausted to proceed farther.

It was still forty miles to Knoxville, as the crow flies. Burnside must have the dispatch. A few men, to whom the courier applied, shook their heads. Longstreet's forces held the country, the weather was cold, and the roads were execrable. Then it was that a delicate young woman, Mary Love, said she would go. Her services were accepted.

Mounted on a fleet horse, she sped on, now on the highway, now along by-paths, now through the forest, how over the open hills. Suddenly she came upon a Confederate picket, and was taken to the provost marshal. With perfect composure she told him that she was the sister of Doctor Love, a Confederate surgeon at Knoxville, and that she was riding his horse. The provost marshal knew Doctor Love and knew his horse. The girl was allowed to proceed.

Once more she dashed on. After a long and circuitous ride she reached the river opposite Louisville, her native town, crossed the wide stream, and hastened to the house of her brother-in-law. She had travelled thirty-five miles in a few hours by night, but her exhaustion was complete. She fell to the ground, and had barely strength to say that the dispatches must go on.

Mary Love had come in circles, and there were still fifteen miles to go. The men of the household had gone to the war. After a hasty consultation, a boy of thirteen, John T. Brown, offered to complete the journey, and his mother bade him Godspeed.

Wheeler's Confederate cavalry held the town, and pickets were stationed on all the roads. At nightfall, Mrs. Brown and her boy slipped down to the river's edge and scrambled through the dense undergrowth along its bank for two miles. They had passed the picket lines. Here the mother turned back.

The night was bitter cold, but the boy travelled on, picking his way through the darkness and forests. At length he reached Little River, a distance of eight miles. The stream was swollen and he could not cross. He doubled back on his trail for some distance, and made his way to the house of an old friend of his father. The gentleman received him kindly, and early in the morning he proceeded on his way. By daylight he was able to cross the river, and at length reached the Federal pickets. Then, under the charge of a sergeant, he was sent to General Burnside's headquarters, still several miles away.

The general read the dispatch, and learned that Sherman's army was at hand. In a few minutes bands of music struck up, and batteries pealed the news that relief was coming. Little Johnny sat wondering what it all meant. Suddenly soldiers gathered round him, and one of them, catching him up, set him on his shoulders, and with cheers and shouts he was carried down the street. Then, for the first time, Johnny understood all he had done. — Youth's Companion.

Secret Correspondence Using Invisible Ink

1900

Inks Composed Mainly of Salts and Cobalt Are the Best

Of the many invisible and sympathetic inks that have been used for secret correspondence perhaps the best known are those composed mainly of salts of cobalt. Marks made with these fluids remained invisible until they were subjected to heat, and then were revealed in lines of pale green. The phenomenon was transient and entirely dependent on the temperature. As soon as the sheet of paper grew cool writing would disappear.

Now, to those who had occasion to employ such means of communication it was desirable to know whether any one tampered with their letters or not. So long as the fact of the correspondence was kept secret, of course, there would be no danger. But if that once became known the contents of a private letter might be ascertained by anyone through whose hands the letter passed. Cobalt writing can be made to appear and disappear a dozen times without giving the least evidence of having been read.

But a patent was recently granted in Germany which meets this difficulty, and in some other respects, also, is an improvement on the old system. In the first place the paper used is soaked in the cobalt solution and is prepared in advance. The inventor aims to put his stationery on the market. The writing is done with a solution of common salt and behaves as the cobalt ink did formerly. It can be seen only when warmed and disappears immediately on cooling. Moreover, it appears as often as heat is applied. Its color is a bluish green.

But the German also provides what he calls a "control ink." This may be prepared by adding two grains of resorcin to eight drops of water and six drops of sulphuric acid. When a person has written his letter with salt water he makes a few supplementary remarks, in a spot previously agreed upon, with the control ink. So long as the letter remains cool these test marks are invisible, but when the heat is applied they come out and they come out to stay. They are of a brown hue, different from that of the salt writing, and they will not disappear when the green writing does. If the authorized recipient of a letter finds these marks on a letter before he himself warms it he has reason to suspect that his secret is known. But if they are missing the opposite conclusion is justified.

Scientist Say Ants Have Form of Salutation Among Themselves

1915

New Discovery About the Insects

Ants have long been known for their excessive industry, but from a curious communication which has just appeared they seem to have surpassed all other insects by organizing an elaborate system of signaling.

Professor Bugnion, who has recently investigated the habits of the white ant, reports that the "soldiers" of that species give warnings or encouraging signals by knocking with their jaws upon dry leaves, thereby emitting a crackling sound. Placing some of these ants on a big plate and covering it with paper, he found that the "soldiers" among the ants responded to his taps with a rustling, crackling sound.

Moreover, apart from this audible signaling, there appears to be some inaudible form of signal, for the professor asserts that the "soldier" ants salute the worker ants.

To do this, "the insect stands firmly on its legs with the head raised and the body slightly oblique, and shakes itself for an instant with a convulsive shudder. This seems to mean something."


Sunny World

If you want it to be a sunny world stop wearing a cloud on your brow. — Florida Times-Union.

Inventors At Work — An Idea in Parachutes

1896

An Italian aeronaut named Copazza has invented two balloon attachments, which are said to have fully realized the expectations formed of them. The one is an enormous parachute stretched over a balloon, and the other a folded parachute hanging under the basket.

If the aeronaut finds that his balloon is rising too fast he opens the folded parachute, which immediately acts as a huge air brake and effectually retards progress.

On the other hand, should the air vessel explode through expansion, fire, or any other cause, the top parachute comes into action and a descent may be made without the slightest inconvenience.


A New Telephone

A Russian electrician named Kiltschewsky has perfected a telephone which practically disregards distance. At a recent test between Moscow and Rostoff, 890 miles, talking, singing and instrumental music at one end of the line were distinctly heard by listeners at the other. An experiment is to be made by land wires and Atlantic cables in talking between London and New York.

The Opera Through the Telephone

1879

Very many persons among the opera audiences at the Academy of Music recently noticed a curious little box on the stage, immediately beside the prompter's box, with a tin funnel opening toward the singers, but probably very few had the slightest idea of what were its uses.

In reality it was a scientific marvel, and played a quite important part in an experiment that was completely successful. The instrument was a Blake's Battery transmitter, made very much like an ordinary Bell telephone, but having, in place of the permanent magnet, a Bhumkorf coil and one cell of battery attached. Its usual function on a telephone line is to increase the volume of sound by the action of an induced current, but at the Academy it was employed to gather in the music of the opera and convey it to distant residences. A private wire led from it to the office of Dr. Alan P. Smith, and to the homes of Mr. A. G. Davis. No. 429 Madison avenue, and A. Wilson, Jr., 162 Mosher street, connecting to telephones at each place.

Listeners at these houses placed an ear to the telephone, and heard all the music of the opera almost as distinctly as if seated in the auditorium of the Academy. The voices and the orchestral music were transmitted perfectly. Even the words of the prompter were audible, as well as the applause from the front of the house. The test was a most interesting one, and was perfectly successful. — Baltimore American.

Jazz By Wireless Heard 1,500 Miles

1920

Low Power Generators Used in Experiment

Expect to Talk to England by Telephone If Present Trials Are Successful

England and the United States soon will be talking to each other by telephone if experiments which now are being conducted in both countries are successful. Already nightly efforts are being made by the British to make American operators hear their voices over the wireless telephone. So far the attempt has been fruitless.

However, just the other day Americans set a new record for talking by wireless, when operators in Chicago, Topeka, Kan., and half a dozen points not more than 1,500 miles from New York distinctly heard the New York operator talking and then listened to a jazz record on his talking machine.

Low Power Generators Used

The record was made because generators of only one-third of a kilowatt of power were used. When last year, for the benefit of President Wilson, navy operators sent his voice ringing around the world by wireless, they used a 300-kilowatt generator. There is no limit to the distance which can be covered the wireless telephone provided sufficient power is used, but to come within a reasonable expense present devices must be made more perfect.

New York and Chicago now have a little talk every night and all over the country the members of the American Radio Relay League, which has half a million members, strain their ears in an effort to overhear what is being said. The New Yorker is Robert F. Gowen of the DeForest Radio company, and the Chicago operator is R. G. Mathews, who worked with the navy wireless during the war. They now are trying to get an operator at Roswell, n. M., to hear Gowen talking. If he succeeds then the wireless talk will be directed at a San Francisco operator.

Span Country Without Wires

"When we can span the country with the human voice without the aid of wires we will have solved the question of how to take care of the ever increasing long-distance telephone business," says Mathews. "Now, if a fellow wants to make a long distance call he has to wait an hour or two because all the trunk lines are busy. When the wireless telephone is an assured thing central will plug the patron in on an aerial trunk line and he can get to talk right away. The chances are he won't know the difference, either, except that he can hear more distinctly and there won't be any of the tinny sound that now interferes with telephoning.

"The great problem is to make it possible to use the telephone without making it so expensive the average person can't afford it. The low power and short wave lengths we are experimenting with now are within the reach of almost every amateur wireless fan."

Sergeant Joe Reed Now Telephone "Girl" for Police

Lima, Ohio, 1922

SERGEANT JOE REED IS NOW TELEPHONE "GIRL" AT POLICE HEADQUARTERS

Joe Reed, day desk sergeant at police headquarters, spent the larger part of the day Monday, learning to operate the new telephone switchboard.

It is now complete and ready to be cut in for use.

The board controls the entire report system of tin police department, special danger and emergency signals and the entire phone system of the department and criminal court.

It is considerably more intricate than the ordinary phone switchboard, because of the additional and special stations with which it is hooked up.

Telephone company employes expect to "cut it in" for use beginning Tuesday morning.

"Guess I'll have to don a blue gingham apron, Reed opined as he tried switches and plugged stations.

—The Lima News, Lima, Ohio, Aug. 28, 1922, p. 2.