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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



And there were cheers at the senti- 

 ment, just as though the words had come 

 from the speakers' table instead of from 

 El Paso. 



"General Scott, Acting Secretary of 

 War and Chief of Staff, is here, General 

 Pershing," said Mr. Carty, "and he will 

 talk with you." 



But General Scott was too modest. He 

 could fight Indians, put an army through 

 its maneuvers, and march into the "in- 

 ferno of a fight" without turning a hair, 

 but he could not talk to one of his gen- 

 erals over a telephone on such an occa- 

 sion as this. 



After El Paso, Texas, came Jackson- 

 ville, Florida, and while a chilling March 

 rain was falling in Washington it was a 

 balmy summery night in Jacksonville, 

 with the thermometer registering 70-odd. 



And then the tide turned again. A 

 switch in Washington moved and the 

 voice-tide turned from the far Southeast 

 to the extreme West. To Salt Lake City 

 the route was the same as we had taken 

 to Seattle, but there a switch was thrown 

 and we were routed to San Francisco. 



When Ave got there lights were shining 

 on the electric map at 21 places in 17 

 States and one foreign country. We 

 had visited them all on our dash around 

 the country on the wings of the electric 

 wave. 



When we arrived in San Francisco, 

 the toastmaster, Secretary of the Interior 

 Franklin K. Lane, informed that city that 

 the whole National Geographic Society 

 envied those who lived there. 



And then came Captain Gilmer, U. S. 

 N., to the San Francisco telephone, and 

 soon the head of the Navy at the Atlantic 

 seaboard was conversing with one of his 

 captains on the Pacific seaboard as 

 though they were in adjoining offices in- 

 stead of thousands of miles apart. 



A VOICE FROM THE GOLDEN GATE 



And then the voice of war yielded place 

 to the voice of filial affection, and out of 

 the Washington receivers floated a piping 

 "Hello, mamma ! How are you and 

 daddy? I'm just fine." It was little 

 Larry Harris, five years old, in San 

 Francisco, calling to his mother, who. 



visiting in Washington, was one of the 

 guests attending the Society's dinner. 



Mrs. Lawrence W. Harris : "Where is 

 King ? Is King there ?" 



King : "I am, mamma." 



Mrs. Harris : "Hello, King ; how are 

 you ? King, we will see you in about two 

 weeks. Your daddy wishes to speak to 

 you." 



Mr. Harris : "Hello, King ; how are 

 you, my boy ? Who are you with ?" 



King: "I am with grandma." 



Mr. Harris : "Well, you tell your grand- 

 ma that this is no time for her to be out. 

 Good-bye, boy." 



Mr. Carty : "Mr. Harris didn't realize 

 that it is now only half-past seven in San 

 Francisco." 



The voice of the little fellow and his 

 brother King, age three, captivated 800 

 people and brought earnest applause as 

 they at half-past seven in San Francisco 

 said good-night to their parents at half- 

 past ten in Washington.* 



After the conversation was done, 

 Washington began to say good-night to 

 all of the stations with which it had 

 talked, starting with San Francisco and 

 coming east. 



"Good-night, San Francisco," said Mr. 

 Carty. 



"Good-night, Mr. Carty," answered 

 San Francisco, as her light on the electric 

 map became dark. And so we said good- 

 night to all of them. 



TALKIXG WITHOUT WIRES 



And then came a new series of demon- 

 strations. Up to that time we were talk- 

 ing over wires. The messages were not 

 free to move anywhere but along particu- 

 lar wires to particular places. 



Now sounds were to be mounted on 

 steeds of inconceivable fleetness and dis- 

 patched through the circumambient to 

 everywhere in general and New York in 

 particular. 



* This was not the first time that a youngster 

 had talked across the continent, however, for 

 the very first child's voice flashed through the 

 transcontinental wires was that of Melville 

 Bell Grosvenor, grandson of Dr. Alexander 

 Graham Bell, at the opening of the New 

 York - San Francisco telephone, January 25, 

 1915. 



