The audience began to show impatience, and from different words and expressions that came from them we were convinced that they were not going to submit easily to anything but an exhibition of some kind.
By this time my partner had taken off his coat and vest, although it was really cold enough for an overcoat, and the perspiration was fairly dripping from him. He was much excited and I wasn't feeling any too gay myself.
We began working on the machine together, which gave us a chance to converse in an undertone. I asked if he had ever tried to run it before. He said no, but he was certain he knew how.
I told him it really looked as though he must have boarded and roomed with Edison when he conceived the idea of making the thing.
"Are you positively certain it ever did talk?"
"I know it has talked."
"Did you ever hear it?"
"No, but my cousin did."
"Great Scott, man! you don't know whether this is a Phonograph or a washing-machine; and I am certain it looks more like the latter. What are we going to do?"