Radio Boys Cronies | Page 6

he

was 'dead to the world' in an experiment. Suddenly the car gave a lurch
and jolted the bottle of phosphorus off its shelf. It broke, flamed up, set
fire to the floor and endangered the whole train. While the boy was
frantically fighting the fire, the Scotch conductor, red-headed and
wrathy, rushed in and helped him to put it out.
"By this time they were stopping at Mt. Clemens, where the indignant
Scotchman boxed the boy's ears and put him out also. Then the man
threw the lad's bottles, apparatus and batteries after him, as if they were
unloading a carload of freight there.
"These blows on his ears were the cause of the inventor's life-long
deafness. But there never was a gamer sport than Thomas A. Edison.
Once, long after this, he saw the labor of years and the outlay of at least
two million dollars at the seashore washed away in a single night by a
sudden storm. He only laughed and said that was 'spilt milk, not worth
crying over.' Disappointments of that sort were 'the fortunes of war' or
'all for the best' to him. The injury so unjustly inflicted on him by that
irate conductor was not a defect to him. Many years afterwards he said:
"'This deafness has been of great advantage to me in various ways.
When in a telegraph office I could hear only the instrument directly on
the table at which I sat, and, unlike the other operators, I was not
bothered by the other instruments.
"'Again, in experimenting on the telephone, I had to improve the
transmitter so that I could hear it. This made the telephone commercial,
as the magneto telephone receiver of Bell was too weak to be used as a
transmitter commercially.'
"It was the same with the phonograph. The great defect of that
instrument was the rendering of the overtones in music and the hissing
consonants in speech. Edison worked over one year, twenty hours a day,
Sundays and all, to get the word 'specie' perfectly recorded and
reproduced on the phonograph. When this was done, he knew that
everything else could be done,--which was a fact.
"'Again,' Edison resumed, 'my nerves have been preserved intact.

Broadway is as quiet to me as a country village is to a person with
normal hearing.'"
The talk suddenly ceased. Then another voice announced from out of
the horn: "The second installment of the lectures on Edison will be
given at 3 P.M. next Friday. We will now hear a concert by Wayple's
band."
CHAPTER V
OPINIONS
The boys and girls filed out, after most of them had expressed
appreciation of Professor Gray's interest in their enjoyment, and on the
street a lively discussion started. Terry Watkins was laughing derisively
at some remark of Cora Siebold, who, arm in arm with her chum "Dot"
Myers, had paused long enough to fire a broadside at him.
"Why don't some of you smarties who talk so much about the
wonderful things you can do make yourselves receiving sets! Too lazy?
Baseball and swimming and loafing around are all you think about. But
leave it to the girls; Dot and I are going to tackle one."
"What? You two? Won't it be a mess? Bet you can't hear yourselves
think on it. Girls building a radio! Ho, ho, ho!"
"Bet there'll be a looking-glass in it somewhere," laughed Ted Bissell.
"Well, we aren't planning to ask advice from either of you," Cora said.
"No, and it would be worth very little if you got any," Bill Brown
offered, as he and Gus, who had been detained a moment by Professor
Gray, joined the loitering group.
"Thanks, Mr. Brown," said Dot, half shyly.
"Who asked you for your two cents' worth?" Terry demanded.

"I'm donating it, to your service. Go and do something yourself before
you make fun of others," Bill said.
"That's right, too, Billy. Terry can't drive a carpet tack, nor draw a
straight line with a ruler." Ted was always in a bantering mood and
eager for a laugh at anybody. "I'll bet Cora's radio will radiate royally
and right. You going to make one--you and Gus?"
"I guess we can't afford it," Bill replied quickly. "We're both going to
work in the mill next Monday. Long hours and steady, and not too
much pay, either. But we need the money; eh, Gus?"
"We do," agreed Gus, smiling.
Bill's countenance was altogether rueful. Life had not been very kind to
him and he very naturally longed for some opportunity to dodge
continued hardship. He wished that he might, like the boy Edison,
make opportunity, but that sounded more plausible in lectures than in
real life. He was moodily silent now, while the others engaged in a
spirited discussion started by Dot's saying