d two other districts and advertised our performance. The result
was that people came from all directions, in carriage and wagon loads.
They had all heard or read of Edison's talking machine, and were anxious
to see and hear it.

The house was packed, and we took in over forty dollars at the door.

At eight o'clock I announced everything ready for the exhibition, and
requested all to remain as quiet as possible throughout the performance.

Of course I was as ignorant of the manner of manipulating the talking
machine as any one of the audience.

I didn't know whether the thing had to be "blowed up" or "wound up," and
was obliged to leave it all with my partner, who seemed perfectly
confident of its success.

After arranging the tin foil he took hold of the crank, began turning,
and instructed me to place my mouth over the instrument and speak my
little piece about the mouse and clock. After finishing, I stepped back
to await results.

He turned the crank, and the thing gave just one unearthly, agonizing
groan and, I imagined, rolled its eyes back, and gasping for breath,
died a natural death.

The audience showed a look of disappointment. I endeavored to convince
them by my careless, indifferent manner that it was only a common
occurrence, and that all would soon be right.

My partner tried to laugh it off and make believe it was a good joke,
but I noticed very quickly large drops of perspiration standing on his
forehead as he busied himself in trying to fix the machine.

At last he was ready to try it again, and instructed me to speak louder
and more distinctly than I did before. I was determined that he should
not lay the blame to me for not talking loud enough, and therefore used
all the strength and power of lungs and voice that I could command. The
result was less satisfactory than before, for not a sound could we get
from it.

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