Radio Script #304
Little Talks On Common Things
May 6, 1956
The world of finance — the market’ in stocks and bonds — depends heavi Iy on the ticker, which brings almost instantaneous news of changing prices and volume of sales. How did the ticker come about?
In 1882 Charles H. Dow and Edward D. Jones, two young newspaper reporters from Providence, Rhode Island, formed a partnership to produce a handwritten financial news bulletin to be delivered by messengers at intervals during the trading hours of each day to nearby customers. That handwritten bulletin, as the years went by, developed into the great Wal I Street Journal.
Dow went out and got the news, visiting not only the Exchange, but also the brokers’ offices and the banks, listening, noting, questioning. Messenger boys ran his reports back to the office where Jones, the inside man, dictated to a battery of clerks, who wrote out by hand the Dow-Jones news bulletins.
Now the service was soon seen to have one serious fault. No matter how frequent or speedy the de liveries, some customers were sure to get the bu Ileti ns earlier than others. Since security prices can change in a very few minutes, the bulletin customers at the end of any Dow Jones delivery line were becoming increasingly dissatisfied. Charlie Dow and Ed Jones were determined to solve the problem, and on February 26, 1897, they came up with the answer. On that day the Dow Jones news ticker, called the page-printing ticker, went into service.
At first it was a crude device, operated by a clock mechanism which had to be wound every ha If-hour. But gradua I I y it was improved unt ii, on the p resent high-speed electrically operated tickers, Dow Jones flashes its accurate and important financial news to thousands of customers.
I am honestly glad to have my errors on this program pointed out, because it shows that someone is listen i ng. Roy Lancaster, for many years a popu I ar clerk at Emery-Brown Company unti I his retirement, quite rightly takes me to task for saying that the Skowhegan and Norridgewock.Rrilw.ay .had a ,. carbarn in Norr i dgewock. Mr. Lancaster knew that 0 I d tro Iley line we I I and he won’t let me get away with erroneous statements about it.
Now I never knew that line myse If. I certa i n Iy never rode on it and don’t think I ever saw it. Where did get my information? It came from a new little book, written by New England’s foremost authority on the old trol ley lines, O. R. Cummings of Newburyport, Massachusetts. The book carries the intriguing title ”Toonervi lies of Maine”. In the section devoted to the Skowhegan and Norridgewock Rai Iway, Mr. Cummings says, “A two track carhouse, with a capacity of six cars, was located in Norridgewock”. On the opposite page is a picture, showing a trolley car in front of a car barn. Under the picture Mr. Cummings has placed the legend, “The only known photo of a Skowhegan and Norridgewock car, in front of the S & N barn in Norridgewockf?
Now Mr. Lancaster has sent me a clipping from the Skowhegan Independent Reporter, which shows the same car barn, but without any trolley car in front of it. It can be identified as the same barn by the sign which runs across the enti re front: “1894. Skowhegan and Norri dgewock Rai Iway and Power Companytt.
As Mr. Lancaster points out, that car barn wasn’t in Norridgewock at all; it was in Skowhegan, right on the island where the Skowhegan Fire Station now stands. The Independent Reporter said: “The old S & N railroad barn was 10- cated on the island when this photo was taken in 1894. It was on the east side of Island Avenue, adjacent to the Methodist Church. When the rai Iway became extinct, the Skowhegan Vi Ilage Corporation had the present brick fire eng i ne house constructed on th is same site.”
In the first decade of this century most of our Maine hotels used to feature some particular dish. For instance the ginger bread with whipped cream at the Vaughan House in Caribou was known far and wide; the Andrews House in South Paris served cream of tartar bi scuits, fresh made for every mea I three ti mes a day; the Harrington House down in Washington County was famous for its clam cakes.
An old menu, which recently came to my attention shows that the Augusta House also had its specialty nearly half a century ago in 1908. That specialty was Old Fashioned Molasses Apple Pie. Like most of the hotels of that day, the Augusta House served quite a dinner for one dollar. First, you could have a choice of soup, then either boiled salmon or fried fillets of halibut. The third course was boi led fowl with sauce supreme; then came a choice of chicken stew with dumplings or lobster a la Newburg, and with either you got chocolate cream fritters. After you should have been pretty ful’ already, they brought on the main dish — a choice of roast beef, roast lamb, or roast stuffed duck. For vegetables there were boi led, mashed and sweet potatoes, spinach, squash and peas. A’fter the waitress removed those empty plates, she set before you a big frui t sa I ad with sweet dress i ng. Then you were ready for dessert. Of course you had to have a piece of the old fashioned molasses apple pie, but you were a qui tter if you d i dn ‘t have more than one dessert. Some di ners had them all : pumpkin pie, Washington cream pie, peach ice cream, pineapple jelly, raisins and nuts. Then, as a sort of dainty settler to the whole meal, you had Roquefort cheese and Bent’s water crackers, and all along you had been washing the food down WiTh cups of steaming coffee. After you were quite sure you had eaten enough, you paid your dollar, laid down a dime for the waitress and went your loaded way.
Our old friend One Eleven keeps coming up with reminders of the time when he and I were boys half a century ago. His mention of Daisy air rifles, Rocket basebal Is costing a hard earned ten cents, Ingersol I dollar watches, and Dents’ toothache gum must surely bring back memories to any listener who has reached the shady side of sixty. But I wonder how many old timers are like me in not recal ling at al I what One Eleven refers to as Perpetual Penci Is. He says they had a metal barrel full of lead points in a channel. You pressed a plunger at the top end and a new lead replaced the old. Now I remember penci Is with leads inside the top part; but you had to unscrew a cap, take out a lead, and insert it.
One Eleven does bring back memories, however, with his mention of schoolroom sling shots. Unlike the outdoor kind, made of a crotched stick and big rubber bands, those little weapons were made from a hairpin and small rubber bands of the office kind. They were pretty effective, however, at close range, and could be quickly hidden away. It didn’t take teacher long to get on to their use and many a schoolmarm developed uncanny abi lity at detecting the marksman when some girl’s quick yelp announced a bullseye.
One Eleven is a gay fel low, not given to disagreeable suggestions. I must therefore call him to task for the way he ends a list of old time memories which he recently sent me. After mentioning the schoolroom sling shots, stocking leg caps, and other gay items, he ends on this grim, sombre note: sulphur and molasses.
Neither One Eleven nor I have any yearning for a return to the old days. Right now is a pretty good time to be living, even though we have plenty of problems. Yet One Eleven and I agree that we deeply regret the passing of the Youth’s Companion. The modern comics are quite a change from that fine old weekly, which came into American homes for a hundred years. Our Kennebec region had a part in its later days, when John Clair Minot of Belgrade was its editor.
Without being sentimental or patronizing, the Companion presented young people with interesting, lively stories, and with a tremendous amount of information in quickly read, short articles. And best of al I, it kept the boys and girls aware of the value of high moral ideals, without preaching to them or trying to make them Little Lord Fauntleroys.
Rev. Nelson Heikes, who writes those little sermons that appear in the Irna Wanderer column each Saturday in the Watervi I Ie Sentinal, has shown me a most unusua I newspaper. It is Vo I. 1, No. 1 of the Hera I d of Gospe I Liberty, wh i ch Mr. Joe i kes assures me was the first re Ii g i ous newspape r, not on Iy in the Uni ted States, but anywhere in the wor I d.
This paper first appeared at Portsmouth, New Hampshire on September 1, 1808, and was published as an organ of the Christian Church, the denomination of which Mr. Heikes has long been a minister. The denomination merged a few years ago with the Congregationalists into what is now the Congregational-Christ: i.an Church.
In a time when the creeds bound church members very strictly, the paper’s title meant just what it said, Herald of Gospel Liberty, for the Christian denomination believed in true religious freedom. In its leading article, this first issue of the paper sai d: “I tis not now a tryanni ca I government that deprives us of liberty. No George I I I has troops in our land. The people of this country are in general free in political matters, but in things of religion, multitudes are ignorant of what liberty is. Many appear to know their rights as citizens, but when they’talk or act on things of the spirit, they are guided wholly by the opinions of designing men, who bind them in the chains of ig- norance. It is the des i gn of thi s paper to show the liberty wh i ch be longs to a II men, as it respects the i r re I ati onsh i p to God and to each other. t! Elsewhere in the paper the editor told exactly what he meant by religious freedom. “Re I i g i ous I i be rty”, he wrote, Us i gn i f i es a free dom to be I i eve in God, and to obey him according to the manifestation which he has made to man. Every kind of human law restricting a man’s belief or action in his religious life is
i ncons i stent wi th rea I re I i gi ous liberty. When the magi strate interferes with us in matters of religion, he is acting outside of his rightful sphere. The operations of mind and conscience cannot be subject to the laws of man.”
Today we take religious freedom so much for granted that we forget how bold that statement was in 1808.
The paper was published by Elias Smith at his house near Jeffry Street in Portsmouth. He announced that it would appear every Saturday evening. Now not; ce the terms of subscr i pt i on: “one do I I ar a year, exc I us i ve of pos tage.” In 1808, as I have often pointed out on this program, postage was paid by the receiver, not the sender, of mai I. In order to cut down the cost to subscribers, Publisher Smith announced the following plan: “Where there is more than one subscriber in a town, an agent is appointed to receive the subscriptions and the rroney, and to de live r the pape rs • ” Smith had just one agent on the Kennebe c when he started his paper. That was Mos’es Ro I Ii ns at Ha I lowe II. He h ad four other agents in Maine, one each in Portland, Monmouth, Wiscasset and Eastport.
His Boston agent was Joel Wallingford, No.9 Back Street, and Smith announced that the papers for Charlestown would be left at Wallingford’s.
The paper had no commercial advertisements, but under the head of Advertisement, Publisher Smith placed the kind of notice these early newspaper men were having constantly to insert. It said: “Subscribers wi II especially notice that one of the conditions of the Herald is fifty cents to be paid when the first number is delivered. That sum is necessary to enable the Editor to prosecute the bus i ness. Y!
And with that appeal flor 50 cents, issued 148 years ago, we must say good night for old times’ sake.
Year: 1956