FUN IN THE RADIO WORLDFUN IN THE RADIO WORLD
TOLD AND DRAWN BY
E. BOYD SMITH
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
MCMXXIIICopyright, 1923, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
All Rights Reserved
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICAI
FUN IN THE RADIO WORLDDOWN IN THE BARNYARD
Of course everybody nowadays knows about radio—wireless—sending out through the air sound-waves which make music or messages. It is all very wonderful. This “broadcasting” is of concerts, songs or talks, as may be. When the big sending stations, like Newark, send out their radio, it goes in every direction, just as the sun sends out its light and heat, and any one with a “receiver” can pick it up. And that’s what we’re all doing now, all over the country, more or less.
Away it goes, north, south, east and west, all over the world—and away beyond even, where we can’t follow it
Let’s try and keep on its track for a while, as far as we can go, anyway. Bight here on our farm Willie has his receiver, and catches the music from the big stations. With his “amplifier”—“loud talker”—and horn he gives us all concerts.
The first time the animals heard it down in the barnyard, as you may imag-
ine, they were surprised, yes, indeed. Music is a pretty universal language, so perhaps they understood it, though they must have been astonished to hear somuch noise, with nobody making it. They pricked up their ears, for you know they can move their ears backward or forward until they connect up with the sound. Now we can’t do this though we may try ever so hard; but then they have lots of advantages we haven’t got—they don’t have to go to school, or wash their faces.
The billy-goat said, “Gee! What a racket!” and went on nibbling at a nice tomato can he had found, for billy-goats try to eat nearly everything. The rabbits were uneasy; they don’t like noise; still they were curious like the others. The pig grunted her disapproval, and turned up her nose. The dog said he’d heard it before, for he has the run of the house as well as the farm-yard and knows everybody. The horse didn’t mind it much, for he often went to town, so was used to strange noises; didn’t even mind a Ford, and that sometimes makes odd noises. But the cows weren’t at all sure they liked it, and they talked it over together.
Of course in time they all got used to it, and perhaps were even curious to hear new pieces—we never can tell.THE CHICKENS AND SUCH
Now naturally the fowl heard all this, too. We can’t even guess what they thought of it; perhaps at first that they were being called to be fed. But they are more excitable than the animals, and when they found they couldn’t understand it they began to be alarmed, and did a lot of talking. It’s too bad we can’t know what they say, though sometimes we can guess what they mean pretty well.
The mother hen, we can be sure, told her little ones that something was wrong, and said, “Let’s get right away from here,’’ while the others cackled excitedly. The rooster, always bold, crowed defiance. If it meant a fight, why, he said, he was ready.
The geese stretched out their necks and hissed. And the ducks said, “Quack! Quack!” They all have different ways.
And the crows, protesting “Caw! Caw!” up and flew away.
The peacock proudly spread his wonderful tail; he always shows off when he gets excited. And the guinea-fowl made a clatter like a machine-gun, as they startled, for they always talk back.Whenever “static” spoiled the music the ducks cocked their heads, and said “Quack! Quack!” again. That seemed like the real thing to them.
But all in all they were like a good many people and didn’t like any change; “standing pat” was good enough for them. They wanted a quiet life and preferred to do their noise-making themselves; and sometimes they do quite a lot. I suppose you have often heard the hens after they have laid their eggs, clucking and cackling as though they had done something wonderful. Well, perhaps they have a right to take themselves so seriously, for every day they give us nice fresh eggs—and eggs are awful high now. All they ask us to do is not to forget meal times, their meal times, and they all come with a rush for their breakfast or supper. We really couldn’t get along without them, after all. And the rooster is just as good as an alarm clock: every morning he loudly tells us when it is time to get up.THE SWIMMING-HOLE
Just behind the house runs the river; not a very big one, though sometimes after the heavy rains it swells to a fair size; but under the little bridge is a good swimming-hole where the water is deep enough to dive. Here the boys have great times, especially during the long vacation. And right here is where they all learn to swim, just as most of their fathers did when they were boys.
Dogs and boys always chum together a good deal, and down here life is pretty much of a glorious picnic for them all. It’s strange, too, that the dogs seem to know how to swim without learning, while the boys don’t find it so easy at first. But then they can dive, and “pick bottom,” or swim under water.
Now, everything would be pretty nearly perfect if it weren’t for the chores at home they sometimes forget; and somehow there is no dodging these chores— though I fear we all try it.
Willie has a mechanical bent, and made a transmitter, so that he can send out radio messages for a short distance. But, alas, his mother knows this and how to use it. So, in the best of the swimming he hears her call.
The other hoys say it’s only “static,” hoping so; but no; Willie knows better. He has heard only too clearly, “Willi-am, you’re wanted.” He sighs. “When she says William I know I d better go.” So radio is used in a practical way. AVillie sometimes thinks perhaps he made a mistake in being so ingenious.
But, after all, it doesn t take such an awful long time to chop the fire-wood, or run an errand. And after that his radio is worth while, for he can “listen in and get the baseball scores of the day, all about the big league games, and proudly tell the other boys just what the Yankees or the Giants did to-day.
His father, too, finds it useful, for he can get the latest prices of crops he has to sell, from the big cities. And the weather reports for to-morrow—all very useful.
And besides all this, when the day’s work and play are over, they can all enjoy some good, lively concert, or band music. So the radio brings them lots of interesting things, which just come singing through tLoWITH THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS
Though the young folks all know how to enjoy the long vacation there are some special ways which they like, such as camping, the Y. M. C. A., or Boy Scouts, or Camp Fire Girls.
Let’s take a good look at the girls’ camp. Here they are, a lot of them, big and little, all having a splendid time, with games and sports without end. Some of them even try baseball, but that really is the boys’ game, for the girls don t like “hot ones.” They paddle and row, and learn to swim, and even dive. In fact, they have no end of a good time. Only they can tell about it properly, as they do when they get back home.
Here they are now listening to radio, that radio, which is all the time on its travels. Some one knows just the hour a concert is going to be sent out. rIhe receiver is tuned to fit W J Z, or whatever it may be—that means coming from Newark, or Pittsburg, or some big center.
And they hear such a variety of good things, songs and stories, and even talkson a lot of different subjects; for the radio programs are very varied, and different every day. And all they have to do is stop from play for a while and gather near the receiver. And while some one sings, miles and miles away, they can hear it all perfectly. Now this is really very wonderful, but we get so used to it that we forget the wonder and just enjoy it.
Then off away, to blind man’s buff, and more and more games. Till supper time comes; then perhaps another evening concert, and, tired maybe, but well and happy, away to the big tents to sleep, while the moon rises bright above the camp, and all is quiet and safe; to sleep till to-morrow’s sun rises, and then, begin all over, with play and new radio concerts.
ITow did we ever get on without this wonderful radio? And there is always the interest of hearing new pieces, and wondering what surprises there will be in the next concert.
Sometimes, as well as the music and stories, they get garden or cooking talks, something for every taste.AND THE BOY SCOUTS
When the Boy Scouts camp they, too, of course, have their share of radio. They especially like it at night, when they gather around a lively, blazing campfire, after a hard day of play.
Some of the records—to call them that—give them good instructive advice. They take this, I fear, as all in the day’s work, with the rest; but what they really enjoy best are the funny stories, and that is all right, naturally.
Sometimes they get a good “Brer Rabbit” story, well told, like the ‘ Wonderful Tar Baby” story. Don’t you know these stories ? Well, you'd better read them, unless you have the good luck to hear them by radio, and even so they re worth reading again.
They laugh and chuckle with glee, and call for more, but of course they have to take what comes—comes from the K D K A station, many, many miles away.
In the daytime they are busy, doing hikes, drilling, or playing; running-jump, basket-ball, football, baseball, etc. Always busy, working hard at having a good time. No doubt you know all about it.
These camps are fine things for boys, and they learn a good deal too, in one way or another. Some with mechanical instincts are not satisfied just to hear the radio. They want receivers of their own, at which they tinker and work until they can get in touch with very far-away stations. And some even make quite good home-made receivers. Before long they will be everywhere in our homes, just like the phonograph, and we can have all the music we want just by taking it out of the air. And we’ll all have fun with radio.
Of course the boys want to know how it was invented—or they ought to. Well, they will find the beginning went away back to Benjamin Franklin, and others of his time; then Morse invented the telegraph, sending sound electrically through wire. The experiments of Herz followed. Then Marconi succeeded in sending messages through the air by “wireless.” Poulsen next developed the radio. And now in our own country men are steadily improving it. And they are really only starting; there is no telling what they will succeed in doing with it before they get through.
They still have trouble with “static”—that’s some outside interference which sometimes breaks in with strange noises and spoils messa^ON THE BEACH
We all like to get down to the beach in warm weather, where everything is so bright and cheerful, and everybody bent on having a good time.
Ah, clambakes too! How delicious they are! We hustle about to gather odd sticks of driftwood, and get a good smoky fire going. And how we do manage to eat! The sea air makes us hungry, especially the children.
Oh, there’s nothing like the beach on a hot summer day! The clean salt sea laps in and brings a cooling breeze with it. We gather pretty colored shells and pebbles. And go in swimming, of course.
And now the boys get the good of their swimming-hole training. And the salt water is so much easier to swim in, it floats us better, even if it does get in our noses. Everybody tries it, grown people and children.
Of course there are merry-go-rounds near at hand, and you can be sure they are well patronized, and kept busy. Even the big people are tempted sometimes, for after all they are only grown-up children.Out at sea a yacht race may be going on. And the sea-gulls lazily fly about. Often overhead buzzing aeroplanes sail, high up, or swooping down. And everything is lively. No care here; this is a time for being happy.
And the radio, naturally, is here too, for now we find it everywhere, and plenty of receivers give us music. And the jazz sets the bathers capering around on the warm sand, the big and the little people. Radio adds to the joy of things here, and wakes us up when we get sleepy. We would miss it now. It is all about us, though we can t see it. We hear it, and it keeps right on going farther and farther, out, out over the great open sea. Nothing stops it, though we catch it as it goes by. But we’ve got to be cpiick about it, as it won’t wait for us once it’s started on its travels. Away it goes, carrying its fun and song to the whole world.OUT ON THE OPEN SEA
Away out on the ocean ships are always sailing, in every direction, some carrying passengers across the sea from one country to another, others with goods, on trading voyages. And still others off whaling—that is, chasing and capturing the great whales. We have all heard of these great creatures even if we don’t often see one.
And so they go, these ships, through stormy weather and good weather, sailing, sailing, far from home, and often a long while without ever seeing any land.
Now it seems that ships can receive radio very well, as over the great open sea the sound-waves travel without any interference.
On our ship here the captain’s boy has connected up with the broadcasting from away back home. And the same music which made the bathers on the beach dance now is caught by this ship out in the middle of the great ocean, and the sailors are enjoying it, just as we did on shore.They may not dance very gracefully, but they have a good time. Some dance the hornpipe—that is a favorite sailor’s dance; others the jig, or whatever strikes their fancy. The goat, their mascot, gets excited, and butts as well as dances. Even the whales and big fish get interested, and wonder what’s up, and where all that music comes from, for, of course, they can’t understand it.
So here, far, far away from home, the sailors can hear the same music of radio which we do. You see it can go anywhere and everywhere. And the ship can even call up the stations on the shore, hundreds of miles away, and carry on conversations. So they no longer feel as though they were out of the world, and forgotten. If they get into trouble they can call for help. Or if they don’t know just where they are, all they have to do is ask the shore stations, and the right one will give them their position. To them the radio has already become a valuable thing.IN WILD AFRICA
Farther away still, off on the other side of the ocean, daring men explore strange wild parts of Africa which we know little about. These are the men who make our geographies; at least they give us information to put in them, about the far-away unknown places of the world.
Sometimes theirs is a dangerous life, and they have to deal with fierce savages. They, too, carry their receivers and can pick up the radio from home, this same radio which has crossed the ocean. They connect up and give the natives a concert. And these savage black men who might easily be very dangerous, are so astonished, and so impressed by the wonders of the white men that for the time they become quite safe to travel among.
So in this strange land where perhaps white men have never been before this radio becomes a very useful thing.
Of course the explorer knows just the hours when the big stations at home start their concerts. He looks at his watch, tunes up to the right pitch, and sets things going.You can easily imagine the surprise of the natives; of course they think it is magic. No wonder, when they hear all this music, or talking, coming from nowhere. They drink it in with wide eyes and open mouths. When one concert ends the explorer tunes up for W B Z, or K Y W—this means, of course, the big central broadcasting stations back in America—and gives them another. And so in time wins over the tribe, who will do anything for him now, to get more music.
Now all goes well until the wild animals of the neighborhood get interested, for it seems that music attracts them, too. And they gradually begin to edge up, closer and closer, till pretty soon elephants’ and lions’ heads are seen peering through the bushes.
This spoils everything. The natives scamper off to cover in a hurry, for they know these animal neighbors are dangerous. The explorers, too, leave their machine and retreat to some safer place. And the receiver is left alone, singing away all by itself.IN WILD AFRICA (Continued)
And now the wild beasts have the concert all to themselves. The band music makes some of them roar, in rivalry, till others tell them to “shut up,” so they can hear, for they are rude beasts.
They take it in different ways. The elephant good-naturedly thinks it’s funny. The leopard isn’t sure that he likes it, and growls; but then he has rather a surly disposition.
At times they all begin to sing, each in his own way, and such a concert was never heard before.
Mike, the big monkey, who used to be an exhibit at the Bronx, tries to explain things. When the record just talks the animals grow bored, and show signs of getting ugly, and Mike has trouble keeping them from smashing everything, for it seems that wild beasts don’t like to be talked to, especially when they don’t know what it’s all about.
Now Mike, of course, didn’t understand everything, but he wanted to show offso much that he pretended he did, and when he got stuck he said “That’s static” —which, as you might well think, didn’t mean anything to the others.
I don’t suppose radio ever had such a strange audience before. No one in Newark or Pittsburg ever dreamed that their music was being heard by these wild beasts, in the heart of Africa. But, as we see, radio goes to queer places.
All went along pretty well till in time the music stopped, the W B Z concert had come to an end, and nobody was there to start it again, or W Y K. And now a sudden silence fell, awfully silen after all this racket of band and animals. . The creatures were alarmed; noise they understood, but this sudden silence frightened them. In alarm they slowly turned, and with their tails between their legs, headed back for their own homes in the jungle, where they are probably still talking it over.
The blacks and the explorers, now seeing the coast clear again, came out from cover. And all was safe as before, and the receiver ready to start up again.AMONG THE COWBOYS
Now we have been following this radio away off east, across the ocean to Africa. Let’s see what it is doing in another direction—and all at the same time, for you remember when it is broadcasted it goes out in every direction, all at once.
Away out west across our big country, in the land of high mountains and broad plains, are the big cattle ranges, where our beefsteaks and lamb chops grow. This used to be the home of the Indians, but now the cowboys have pretty well taken their place.
These cowboys are picturesque in their wild costumes, and wild ways, always dashing about, and going in for much horse play.
They are very skillful with the lasso, in roping runaway cattle, and are daring riders of wild horses. Perhaps you have seen some of them at Wild West shows, doing their stunts. Things are changing so fast in our country that soonthey probably will be like the Indians, forgotten, and only an echo of picturesque days.
Down in Texas, at the ranch, they pick up radio, like the rest of us, and have their concerts. The same music we have been following. And the boisterous cowboys come tumbling in to hear the latest. They dance and sing, and make much noise. And frighten Mary’s little lamb—not, of course, the original one of the old verses, but one very much like it no doubt.
Later they will get the baseball scores, and learn how the games came out to-day. We are all alike in this, from one side of the country to the other, and radio treats us all alike; it just gives out the news and any one can get it who listens in. And its program is so varied that there is something for every taste. And then, too, often several central stations are broadcasting at about the same time, so if you don’t like one concert you can always tune up to another. They all have different keys, as you know if you have a receiver.AND THE INDIANS
In another direction, north and west, on the Indian Reservations, live the last of the Indians, these Indians whose fathers not so very long ago had this great, wide western country all to themselves. Plenty of old people still living remember those days, before the railroads were built across the plains, and the buffalo used to roam in immense herds, a thousand strong, perhaps.
These the Indians hunted with bow and arrow. This, of course, was before guns came their way. From these hunts they got their food, and the skins for their tents, and even their clothes—though they wear very little; but what they do wear, or rather what they used to wear, were skins.
Now all this has changed. The buffalo are nearly all gone. The wild country is all built up, and cultivated. And the Indians do no more hunting.
Sometimes on their reservation they have their old ceremonials and dances, and dress up in the old ways. They used to be pretty wild and hard to manage. Now, when they get worked up, and have too lively a dance which threatensrouble—all stripped, painted, and decked out with feathers—the Government agent, who is supposed to look after them, starts the radio going, to calm them.
Now this rival dance music, of some jazz band, attracts the young ones away from their own old fighting music, and works for peace. In this way the agent finds his radio very useful—a lot better than soldiers.
Like most of us, they, too, soon become interested in the latest things. That, just now, is radio. So here is a good use for it, to civilize them, and make them good Americans.
And so it is: go where we will we can always find this radio in the air everywhere, just waiting to be picked up and listened to.
The traveler, the prospector, and mountain miner, and all people who live far off in remote places, no longer need feel lonely, for radio keeps them in touch with all the rest of the world.UP IN THE ARCTIC WORLD
And still radio keeps on traveling, always on the go. Here it has been pieked up in Alaska, at Nome perhaps, and broadcasted out to reach the whalers, sealers, or explorers, away up in the Arctic Circle.
This is the home of the Aurora Borealis—the Northern Lights we sometimes see in the sky—the polar bear, the seals, and the Eskimos.
We have just been among the Indians, who don’t like to wear any clothes to speak of, but here we find a people who have to wear a lot of the thickest furs. For their country is cold, often very, very cold. It’s a wonderful country in its way, all ice and snow. Most of us like to sit in front of a nice fire and read about it, though Stefansson likes it.
It is a land of big empty spaces, no life but here and there a stray white bear. No towns, no Fords—probably the only place in the world of which this can beBut the Eskimos call it home. Here they hunt the huge walrus, of big tusks, or the seals, and they never seem to complain of the cold. They live in round ice houses—1‘igloos”—which they manage to keep warm, from all accounts. Here a ship, frozen in, has caught the radio, and surprises the natives; because, of course, nothing like this was ever heard in their world before.
This is in a way the end of our world, tlie farthest we can go.
Now we have been on a long trip, or many of them, trying to keep up with radio. Even from our own barnyard, away up here to the North Pole almost. But we have at last come to the jumping-off place and must stop.
But no doubt radio keeps right on—off the world—right out into empty space. And if it is strong enough perhaps it even reaches Mars, or ringed Saturn, or some of the other planets, so far, far away. We don't know whether any people live there or not. If they do, I wonder if they have receivers up there? Who knows?