My Telephone Entertainers
Professor Bell would have one telephone by his side on the stage, where he was speaking, and three or four others of the big box variety we used at that time would be suspended about the hall, all connected by means of a hired telegraph wire with the place where I was stationed, from five to twenty-five miles away. Bell would give the audience, first, the commonplace parts of the show and then would come the thrillers of the evening—my shouts and songs. I would shout such sentences as, “How do you do?” “Good evening,” “What do you think of the telephone?” which they could all hear, although the words issued from the mouthpieces rather badly marred by the defective talking powers of the telephones of that date. Then I would sing “Hold the Fort,” “Pull for the Shore,” “Yankee Doodle,” and as a delicate allusion to the Professor’s nationality, “Auld Lang Syne.” My sole sentimental song was “Do Not Trust Him, Gentle Lady.” This repertoire always brought down the house. After every song I would listen at my telephone for further directions from the lecturer, and always felt the artist’s joy when I heard in it the long applause that followed each of my efforts. I was always encored to the limit of my repertoire and sometimes had to sing it through twice.
I have always understood that Professor Bell was a fine platform speaker, but this is entirely hearsay on my part for, although I spoke at every one of his lectures, I have never yet had the pleasure of hearing him deliver an address.