Humorous stories; Mistaken identity -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“Of course you couldn’t. It’s my grand adaptation of the phonograph to
the marine service. You store up profanity in it for use at sea. You
know that sailors don’t fly around worth a cent unless you swear at
them—so the mate that can do the best job of swearing is the most
valuable man. In great emergencies his talent saves the ship. But a
ship is a large thing, and he can’t be everywhere at once; so there
have been times when one mate has lost a ship which could have been
saved if they had had a hundred. Prodigious storms, you know. Well, a
ship can’t afford a hundred mates; but she can afford a hundred Cursing
Phonographs, and distribute them all over the vessel—and there, you
see, she’s armed at every point. Imagine a big storm, and a hundred of
my machines all cursing away at once—splendid spectacle, splendid!—you
couldn’t hear yourself think. Ship goes through that storm perfectly
serene—she’s just as safe as she’d be on shore.”
“It’s a wonderful idea. How do you prepare the thing?”
“Load it—simply load it.”
“How?”
“Why you just stand over it and swear into it.”
“That loads it, does it?”
“Yes—because every word it collars, it _keeps_—keeps it forever. Never
wears out. Any time you turn the crank, out it’ll come. In times of
great peril, you can reverse it, and it’ll swear backwards. _That_
makes a sailor hump himself!”
“O, I see. Who loads them?—the mate?”
“Yes, if he chooses. Or I’ll furnish them already loaded. I can hire an
expert for $75 a month who will load a hundred and fifty phonographs in
150 hours, and do it _easy_. And an expert can furnish a stronger
article, of course, than the mere average uncultivated mate could. Then
you see, all the ships of the world will buy them ready loaded—for I
shall have them loaded in any language a customer wants. Hawkins, it
will work the grandest moral reform of the 19th century. Five years
from now, _all_ the swearing will be done by machinery—you won’t ever
hear a profane word come from human lips on a ship. Millions of dollars
have been spent by the churches, in the effort to abolish profanity in
the commercial marine. Think of it—my name will live forever in the
affections of good men as the man, who, solitary and alone,
accomplished this noble and elevating reform.”
“O, it _is_ grand and beneficent and beautiful. How _did_ you ever come
to think of it? You have a wonderful mind. How did you say you loaded
the machine?”
“O, it’s no trouble—perfectly simple. If you want to load it up loud
and strong, you stand right over it and shout. But if you leave it open
and all set, it’ll _eavesdrop_, so to speak—that is to say, it will
load itself up with any sounds that are made within six feet of it. Now
I’ll show you how it works. I had an expert come and load this one up
yesterday. Hello, it’s been left open—it’s too bad—still I reckon it
hasn’t had much chance to collect irrelevant stuff. All you do is to
press this button in the floor—so.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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