Radio Boys Cronies by Wayne Whipple and S. F. Aaron
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Wayne Whipple and S. F. Aaron >> Radio Boys Cronies
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8 RADIO BOYS CRONIES
or
Bill Brown's Radio
by
Wayne Whipple
Author of "Radio Boys Loyalty"
and
S. F. Aaron
Co-author of "Radio Boys Loyalty"
[Illustration: MADE IN U.S.A.]
CHAPTER I
THE CRONIES
"Come along, Bill; we'll have to get there, or we won't hear the first
of it. Mr. Gray said it would begin promptly at three."
"I'm doing my best, Gus. This crutch----"
"I know. Climb aboard, old scout, and we'll go along faster." The first
speaker, a lad of fifteen, large for his age, fair-haired, though as
brown as a berry and athletic in all his easy, deliberate yet energetic
movements, turned to the one he had called Bill, a boy of about his own
age, or a little older, but altogether opposite in appearance, for he
was undersized, dark-haired, black-eyed, and though a life-long cripple
with a twisted knee, as quick and nervous in action as the limitations
of his physical strength and his ever-present crutch permitted.
In another moment, despite the protests of generous consideration for
his chum's strenuous offer, William Brown was heaved up on the broad
back of Augustus Grier and the two cronies thus progressed quite rapidly
for a full quarter of a mile through the residential section of
Fairview. Not until the pair arrived at the entrance of one of the
outlying cottages did husky Gus cease to be the beast of burden, though
he was greatly tempted to turn into a charging war horse when one of a
group of urchins on a street corner shouted:
"Look at the monkey on a mule!"
Gus cared nothing for taunts and slurs against himself, but he deeply
resented any suggestion of insult aimed at his crippled friend. However,
although Bill could not defend his reputation with his fists, a method
which most appealed to Gus, the lame boy had often proved that he had a
native wit and a tongue that could give as good as was ever given him.
"Here we are, Gus, and how can I ever get square with you?" Bill said,
his crutch and loot thumping the steps as the boys gained the doorway.
In answer to the bell, a sweet-faced lady opened the door, greeted the
boys by name and ushered them into a book-lined study where already
several other boys and girls of about the same age were gathered about
their school teacher.
Professor James B. Gray, although this was vacation time, was the sort
of man who got real and continued pleasure out of instruction,
especially concerning his hobbies. Thus his advanced classes, here
represented, had come into much additional knowledge regarding the
microscope and the stereopticon and had also greatly enjoyed the
Professor's moving-picture apparatus devoted to serious subjects. The
latest wonder, and one worthy of intense interest, was a newly installed
radio receiver.
"Come in, come in, David and Jonathan,--I mean William and Augustus!"
greeted Professor Gray. "Find chairs, boys. I'm glad you've come. Now,
then, exactly in nine minutes the lecture starts and it will interest
you. The announcement, as sent out yesterday, makes the subject the life
and labors of the great scientist and inventor, Thomas Alva Edison, and
it begins with his boyhood. Don't you think that a fitting subject upon
an occasion where electricity is the chief factor? But before the time
is up, let me say a few words concerning our little boxed instrument
here, out of which will come the words we hope to hear. Some of you, I
think, have become pretty familiar with this subject, but for those who
have not given much attention to radio, I will briefly outline the
principles upon which these sounds we shall hear are made possible.
"It would seem that our earth and atmosphere," continued the Professor,
"and all of the universe, probably, is surcharged with electrical energy
that may be readily set in motion through the mechanical vibrations of a
sensitive diaphragm much as when one speaks into a telephone. This
motion is transmitted in waves of varying intensity and frequency which
are sent into space by the mechanism of the broadcasting station, which
consists of a sound conducting apparatus induced by strong electrical
currents from generators or batteries and extensive aerial or antennas
wires high in the air. Thus sound is converted into waves, and the
receiving station, as you see here, with its aerial on the roof, its
detector, its 'phone and its tuner, gets these waves and turns them
again into sound. That is the outline of the thing, which you will
understand better 'after' than 'before using.'
"The technical construction of the radio receiving set is neither
difficult nor expensive; it is described fully in several books on the
subject and I shall be glad to give any of you hints on the making and
the operation of a receiving set. The 'phone receivers and the crystal
detector will have to be purchased as well as some of the accessories,
such as the copper wire, pulleys, battery, switches, binding posts, the
buzzer tester and so forth. With proper tools and much ingenuity some of
these appliances may be home-made.
"The making of the tuner, the wiring, the aerial and the assembling are
all technicalities that may be mastered by a careful study of the
subject and the result will be a simple and inexpensive set having a
limited range. With more highly perfected appliances, as a vacuum, or
audion tube, and an aerial elevated from sixty to over a hundred feet,
you may receive radio energy thousands of miles away.
"Now, this talk we are about to hear comes to us from the broadcasting
station WUK at Wilmerding, a distance of three hundred miles, and this
outfit of mine is such as to get the words loudly and clearly enough to
be audible through a horn. The talks are in series; there have been
three on modern poets, two on the history of great railroad systems and
now this will be the first of several on great inventors, beginning with
Edison, in four parts. The next will be on Friday and I want you all to
be here. Time is up; there will be a preliminary-ah, there it is: a
cornet solo by Drake."
CHAPTER II
AN UNUSUAL LAD
Professor Gray turned to the box and began moving the metal switch arms
back and forth, thus tuning in more perfectly as indicated by the
increased and clearer sound and the absence of interference from other
broadcasting stations, noticed at first by a low buzzing. In a moment
the music came clear and sweet, the stirring tune of "America." When the
sound of the cornet ceased, there followed this announcement:
"My subject is the early life of Thomas Alva Edison."
Everyone settled down most contentedly and Gus saw Bill hug himself in
anticipatory pleasure; the lame boy had always been a staunch admirer of
the great inventor. There was no need of calling anyone's attention to
the necessity for keeping quiet. Out of the big horn, as out of a
phonograph, came the deliberate and carefully enunciated words:
"It has been said that 'the boy is father to the man.' That may be
worthy of general belief; at least evidences of it are to be found in
the boyhood of him we delight to speak of as one of the first citizens
of our country and probably the greatest scientific discoverer of all
time. The boyhood of this remarkable man was almost as remarkable as his
manhood; it was full of incidents showing the tendencies that afterward
contributed to true greatness in the chosen field of endeavor of a mind
bent upon experiment, discovery and invention.
"Thomas Alva Edison was born in Milan, Ohio, in the year 1847. The
precise date, even to Mr. Edison, seems somewhat doubtful.
"He was a frail little chap, with an older brother and sister. But he
was active enough to have several narrow escapes from death. He wouldn't
have been a real boy if he hadn't fallen into the canal and barely
escaped drowning at least once.
"Then while he was a little bit of a fellow, climbing and prowling
around a grain elevator beside the canal, he fell into the wheat bin and
was nearly smothered to death.
"Once he held a skate strap for another boy to cut off with a big ax and
the lad sliced off the end of the fingers holding it!
"Another time the small Edison boy was investigating a bumblebee's nest
in a field close to the fence. He was so interested in watching the bees
that he didn't notice a cross old ram till it had butted in and sent him
sprawling. Although he was then 'between two fires,' the little lad was
quick-witted enough to jump up and climb the fence just in time to
escape a second attack from the ugly old beast. From a safe place he
watched the bees and the ram with keen concern. But Edison says his
mother used up a lot of arnica on his small frame after this double
encounter. The little lad early learned to observe that 'It's a great
life if you don't weaken!'
"Mr. Edison tells this story about himself:
"'Even as a small boy, before we moved away from Milan, I used to try to
make experiments. Once I built a fire in a barn. I remember how startled
I was to see how fast a fire spreads in such a place. Almost before I
knew it the barn was in flames and I barely escaped with my life.
"The neighbors thought I ought to be disciplined and made an example of.
My mortified parents consented and I was publicly whipped in the village
square. I suppose it was a good lesson to me and made the neighbors feel
easier. But I think seeing that barn burning down made me feel worse
than the whipping,--though I felt I deserved that, too.'
"The Edisons moved to Port Huron, Michigan, and lived a little way out
of the town on the St. Clair river, where it flows out of Lake Huron.
The house was in an orchard, but within easy walking distance of the
town. There was no compulsory school law in those days and young Edison
did not attend school, but his mother taught him all she could. She was
a good teacher--she had taught school before she was married--but even
she could not be answering questions all the time. There was a public
library in town, so the boy spent a good deal of his time there. He
would have liked to read all the books in the library--but he started in
on a cyclopedia. He thought because there was 'something about
everything' in that, he'd know all there was to know if he read it
through. But he soon found question after question to ask that the
cyclopedia did not answer. Some of the books he took home to read.
"Mr. Edison, the boy's father, had built a wooden tower that permitted a
beautiful view of the town, River St. Clair and Lake Huron; one could
see miles around in Michigan and over into Canada. Mr. Edison charged
ten cents a head to go up and get the view on top of this tower. Very
few people came, so the tower was not a great success. But the boy went
up there to read, not caring so much for the view as to be alone.
"Young Edison read all he could find about electricity. That always
fascinated him. But the father seemed to have a hard time making a
living and Al, as they called the boy, went to work. He began selling
newspapers in Port Huron, but there was not much in that, so he got a
chance to sell on the seven o'clock train for Detroit. He applied at the
Grand Trunk offices for the job and made his arrangements before he told
any one. He had to be at the station at 6:30 A.M. and have his stock all
ready before the train started, which compelled him to leave home at
six. The train was a local with only three cars--baggage, smoking and
passenger. The baggage car was partitioned off into three compartments.
One of these was never used, so Al was allowed to take that for his
papers to which he added fruits, candies and other wares.
"The run down to Detroit took over three hours. His train did not start
back till 4:30 in the afternoon, so the lad had about six hours in the
big city. He took all the time he needed to buy stock to sell on the
train and to eat his lunch. This left him several hours for reading in
the Detroit public library, where he found more books on the subjects he
liked, more answers to appease his never abating curiosity."
CHAPTER III
GETTING THE MONEY-MAKING HABIT
"Those were the anxious days of the Civil War," the lecturer continued,
"and every-one was worked up to a high pitch of excitement most of the
time. When it was rumored that a battle had been fought the newspapers
sold 'like hot cakes.' Any other boy would have been satisfied if he
could supply as many papers as people wanted and let it go at that. But
that was not the way with young Edison. He was not content with hoping
for an opportunity. He made his opportunity.
"In spite of his getting into trouble so often, Al was a most likable
lad, and a real boy,--earnest, honest and industrious. He had a big
stock of horse sense and a great fund of humor. Though his life seemed
to be 'all work and no play,' he took great pleasure in his work. In the
course of his daily routine at Detroit, he could hardly help making
friends on the _Free Press_, the greatest newspaper there. In this he
resembled that other great inventor, also a great worker as a
boy--Benjamin Franklin.
"Young Edison had a friend up in the printing office who let him see
proofs from the edition being set up, so that he kept posted as to what
was to be in the paper before it came off the press. After the _Free
Press_ came out, he had to get an armful and hustle for his train. In
this shrewd way the train-boy was better off than 'he who runs may
read,' for he _had_ read, and could _shout_ while running: 'All about
the big battle!' So he sold his papers in short order. He had learned to
estimate ahead how many papers the news of a battle ought to sell, and
so he stocked up well beforehand. One day he saw in the advance proofs a
harrowing account of the great two-days' battle of Shiloh. He grasped
not only the news value but also the strategic importance of that
victory.
"Running down to the telegraph office at the Grand Trunk Station in
Detroit, he told the operator all about it. Edison has told us himself
about the offer he made that telegrapher:
"'If you will wire to every station on my run and get the station master
to chalk up on the blackboard out on the station platform that there has
been a big battle, with thousands killed and wounded, I'll give you
_Harper's Weekly_ free for six months!'
"The operator agreed and that Edison boy tore back to the _Free Press_
office.
"'I want a thousand papers!' he gasped. 'Pay you to-morrow!' This was
more than three times as many as he had taken out before, so the clerk
refused to trust him.
"'Where's Mr. Storey?' demanded the lad. The clerk snickered as he
jerked his head toward where the managing editor was talking with a
'big' man from out of town. Young Edison was forced to break in, but the
editor noticed how anxious and business-like he was. When the boy had
told him what he wanted, the great newspaper man scribbled a few words
on a scrap of paper and handed it down to him, saying:
"'Here, take this. Wish you good luck!'
"Al handed the clerk the order and got his thousand papers at once. He
hired another 'newsie' to help him down to the station with them. Long
after this, he told the rest of the story:
"'At Utica, the first station, twelve miles out of Detroit, I usually
sold two papers at five cents each. As we came up I put my head out and
thought I saw an excursion party. The people caught sight of me and
commenced to shout. Then it began to occur to me that they wanted
papers. I rushed back into the car, grabbed an armful, and sold forty
there.
"'Mt. Clemens was the next stop. When that station came in sight, I
thought there was a riot. The platform was crowded with a howling mob,
and I realized that they were after news of Shiloh, so I raised the
price to ten cents, and sold a hundred and fifty where I never had got
rid of more than a dozen.
"'At other stations these scenes were repeated, but the climax came when
we got to Port Huron. I had to jump off the train about a quarter of a
mile from the station which was situated out of town. I had paid a big
Dutch boy to haul several loads of sand to that point, and the engineers
knew I was going to jump so they slowed down a bit. Still, I was quite
an expert on the jump. I heaved off my bundle of papers and landed all
right. As usual, the Dutch boy met me and we carried the rest of the
papers toward the town.
"'We had hardly got half way when we met a crowd hurrying toward the
station. I thought I knew what they were after, so I stopped in front of
a church where a prayer-meeting was just closing. I raised the price to
twenty-five cents and began taking in a young fortune.
"'Almost at the same moment the meeting closed and the people came
rushing out. The way the coin materialized made me think the deacons had
forgotten to pass the plate in that meeting!'
"In those days they commonly called trainboys 'Candy Butchers'; the
terms 'Newsies' and 'Peanuts' may have been used then also but were not
so common. They are not so common on trains nowadays, except in the West
and South, but formerly they were even more of an institution than the
water cooler or the old-fashioned winter stove. The station-shouting
brakemen were no more familiar or comforting to weary passengers than
the 'candy butchers' and their welcome stock."
CHAPTER IV
_Paul Pry_ ON WHEELS
"With all he had to do, young Edison found that he had time on his hands
which he might yet put to good use. One would think being 'candy
butcher' and newsboy from 6 A.M. to 9 P.M., and making from $10.00 to
$12.00 a day might satisfy the boy's cravings. But contentment wasn't
one of Al Edison's numerous virtues.
"He did not know it, but he was following the footsteps of that other
great American inventor, Benjamin Franklin, as a printer, editor,
proprietor and publisher. In one of the stores where he stocked up with
books, magazines and stationery for his train, there was an old printing
press which the dealer, Mr. Roys, had taken for a debt. Mr. Roys once
told the little story of that press:
"'Young Edison, who was a good boy and a favorite of mine, bought goods
of me and had the run of the store. He saw the press, and I suppose he
thought at once that he would publish a paper himself, for he could
catch onto a new idea like lightning. He got me to show him how it
worked, and finally bought it for a small sum.'
"From his printer friends on the _Free Press_ he bought some old type.
Watching the compositors at work, he learned to set type and make up the
forms, so within two weeks after purchasing the press he brought out the
first number of _The Weekly Herald_--the first paper ever written, set
up, proof-read, printed, published and sold (besides all his other work)
on a local train--and this by a boy of fourteen!
"Of course, it had to be a sort of local paper, giving train and station
gossip with sage remarks and 'preachments' from the boy's standpoint. It
sold for three cents a copy, or eight cents a month to regular
customers. Its biggest 'sworn circulation' was 700 copies, of which
about 500 were _bona fide_ subscriptions, and the rest 'news-stand
sales.'
"The great English engineer, Robert Stephenson, grandson of the inventor
and improver of the locomotive, is said to have ordered a thousand
copies to be distributed on railways all over the world to show what an
American newsboy could do.
"Even the _London Times_, known for generations as '_The Thunderer_,'
and long considered the greatest newspaper in both hemispheres, quoted
from _The Weekly Herald_, as the only paper of its kind in the world.
Young Edison's news venture was a financial success, for it added $45.00
a month to his already large income.
"But _Paul Pry_ came to grief because he tried to be funny in disclosing
the secret motives of certain persons. People differ widely in their
notions about fun. In a local paper, too, some one's feelin's are likely
to get 'lacerated!' This was the case with a six-foot subscriber to the
paper which was published then under Al Edison's pen name of 'Paul Pry.'
One day the juvenile editor happened to meet his huge and wrathy reader
too near the St. Clair river. Whereupon the subscriber took the editor
by his collar and waistband and heaved him, neck and crop, into the
river. Edison swam to shore, wet, but otherwise undisturbed,
discontinued the publication of _Paul Pry_, and bade good-by to
journalism forever!
"While young Edison was wading through such mammoth works as Sears's
_History of the World_, Burton's _Anatomy of Melancholy_, and the
_Dictionary of Sciences_ (and had begun to wrestle desperately with
Newton's _Principia_!) he was showing a rare passion for chemistry. He
'annexed' the cellar for a laboratory. His mother said she counted, at
one time, no less than two hundred bottles of chemicals, all shrewdly
marked POISON, so that no one but himself would dare to touch them.
Before long the lad took up so much room in his mother's cellar with his
'mess,' as she called it, that she told him to take it out, 'bag and
baggage.'
"He once stated that his great desire to make money was largely because
he needed the cash to buy materials for experiments. Therefore, in this
emergency, he took keen pleasure in buying all the chemicals, appliances
and apparatus he wished, and installing them in his real 'bag and
baggage' car. As the railroad authorities had allowed him to set up a
printing press, in addition to his miscellaneous stock in trade, why
should he not have his laboratory there also? So his stock of batteries,
chemicals and other 'calamity' grew apace.
"One day, after several weeks of happiness in his moving laboratory, 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.
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