THROUGH THE NEEDLE'S POINT. 



CLEVELAND MOFFETT. 



jT has long been 

 considered a 

 difficult thing 

 for a camel to 

 pass through 

 the eye of a 

 needle, but the 

 science of these 

 latter days — the same science that 

 has given the world the telegraph 

 and the telephone — has made it 

 possible for men, women, and children, for 

 camels, yes, and entire menageries, not 

 only to pass through the eye of a needle, 

 but to pass through the point, and, having 

 thus passed through, to sing and speak, to 

 roar and bark and whinny — in short, to 

 make whatever sounds they please, and be 

 heard after making them thousands of miles 

 away. To-day the great Patti can sing her 

 immortal songs in her castle in Wales and 

 be heard, through the needle's point, in 

 San Francisco and Honolulu and a hun- 

 dred other places at the same time. And 

 so of the world's great orators and enter- 

 tainers, the great thinkers who stir the 

 heart, and the merry people who aid di- 

 gestion. In fact, whatever the cities have 

 in their theatres and churches and concert 

 halls that is best worth hearing may be 

 heard quite conveniently, and with only the 

 slightest falling off in quality, by the den- 

 izens of the most remote village, by dwell- 

 ers on the distant alkali plains, by lonely 

 huntsmen in the woods — and all through 

 the point of a needle — the needle of the 

 gramophone, which traces the undulations 

 of the sound-waves as they are preserved 

 on indestructible records, and reproduces 

 them through that wonderful little instru- 

 ment. 



Aladdin's trick seems to have literally 

 been performed in our time, and New 

 York, Boston, London, and Paris may be 

 picked up now by whomsoever will, and 

 whisked off through hundreds of miles and 

 made to strike all their beautiful instru- 

 ments, pianos, and violins, and blaring 

 horns, and sing with full chorus of voices, 

 and otherwise disport themselves for the 

 amusement or instruction of the humblest 

 provincial. 



Whoever buys a Berliner gramophone 

 buys a box at the opera, rents a pew in a 

 city church, secures permanent admission 

 to the best music halls in the country, can 

 order out a dashing military band at a mo- 

 ment's notice, can make the great piano- 

 players of the day his obedient servants, 

 and can do a great many other things 

 which would have put somebody in danger 



of being roasted for witchcraft had they 

 been attempted by our forefathers. 



And let it be understood clearly that this 

 is no expensive arrangement, to be easily 

 injured, nor is it anything that requires bat- 

 teries or electric contrivances for its run- 

 ning. It is as 

 simple and com- 

 pact as a music- 

 oox,and is wound 

 up in much the 

 same way, while 

 the discs which 

 preserve the 

 sound- records 

 are flat surfaces 

 of gutta-percha, 

 and are practi- 

 cally indestructi- 

 ble. They may 

 be thrown about 

 or scratched, or 

 left with the 

 children to play 

 with, and when 

 put back under 

 the needle after 

 months of this 

 treatment, they 

 will give out the 

 original words or 

 music with un- 

 changed sweet- 

 ness and distinct- 

 ness. That is 

 the first point, 

 and another is 

 that the singing 

 of the gramo- 

 phone really is 

 singing, not 

 squeaking, and 

 the talking is real 

 talking, as if the 

 speaker were 

 there before you. 

 When you hear 

 a street fakir 

 through the 

 gramophone you 

 whether the man 



HAPPY CAL STEWARD 

 MAKING RECORDS FOR 

 THE GRAMOPHONE. 



are almost in doubt 

 is not actually in the 

 room. So perfect is the method of repro- 

 duction that the human voice comes out of 

 the receiver, whether in speech or song, 

 practically as it went in, and thousands of 

 people may listen to it at one time, for there 

 is no need here of bending anxiously over 

 an ear-trumpet; you hear what is going 

 on whether you will or not. A cornet solo 



