38 The Sort of Life We Lead 



Some years ago Mr. Edison exhibited an apparatus 

 whereby the noise made by a fly walking across a 

 sheet of paper was made to sound like the tramp of 

 a horse across the stable floor. Is it too great a 

 stretch of the imagination to predict that some 

 similar means of magnifying sound will be applied 

 to the echo of the phonograph ? 



Some day we may have our operas and our con- 

 certs at home. 



Saturday. Delightfully cold again; and off to 

 the woods with the children right after breakfast, 

 there being no school. Worked hard at the pines, 

 while the young ones picked up twigs and chopped 

 for the kindling pile ; took our luncheon along, and 

 ate it with the music of the countless quail calling 

 for Bob White from all directions; the breeze was 

 from inland, but full of life, and laden with incense 

 from the miles of pine between here and Long 

 Island Sound. On our way home met S. with a 

 fine deer, which, to my amazement, he told us had 

 been shot not ten miles from us. The idea of wild 

 deer on Long Island would surprise a good many 

 New Yorkers. At the store, where we stopped for 

 the mail, there are reports of ducks in plenty. A 

 man with a good gun ought not to starve around 

 here. Two of the children fell asleep at dinner, 



