330 WALL STREET AND THE WILDS 



and showed us the phonograph he was making, 

 shouting into the mouthpiece of the machine, — 

 "Mary had a little lamb," or something from 

 Marco Bozzaris, while he turned the crank. I 

 still have a lot of the tinfoil on which he regis- 

 tered his talk that day. 



It was the cylinder machine at which he was 

 working, but he talked of a disc machine he was 

 going to make of which the record of Shakes- 

 peare's works could be carried in the pocket. 



My work in my shop was cut out for a month 

 to come and at last the phonograph I made 

 would talk. Of course there was nothing orig- 

 inal about it or that any fair machinist could not 

 have made, but it was nothing less than a miracle 

 to me when it first gave back my words. 



There was no suggestion of business success in 

 my life at this time and living was on a most 

 economical scale, but never in my life was I richer 

 in friends. All the pure gold of the friendship 

 of my prosperous days stayed by me and only the 

 dross was swept away. I w T as hand in glove with 

 the journalistic crowd and they were a fascinat- 



