RECEIVING MESSAGES.
With but few exceptions the Morse
code is the one almost universally used the world
over. As it is used in Europe, it is slightly
changed from our American code, but they all depend
upon dots, dashes, and spaces, related in different
combinations, for the different letters. Notwithstanding
its universal use it is not free from serious difficulties
in transmission unless it is repeated back to the sender
for correction; and then in some cases it is impossible
to be sure, owing to difficulties of punctuation and
capitalizing, and the further difficulty of running
the signals together, caused, it may be, by faulty
transmission, induced currents from other wires, “swinging
crosses” or atmospheric electricity. Sometimes
it is a psychological difficulty in the mind of the
receiving-operator. The telegraph companies have
to suffer damages from all these and many other unforeseen
causes.
Prescott tells some curious things
that happened in the early days, growing out of the
peculiarities of the receiving-operator. At one
time he was reporting by telegraph one of Webster’s
speeches made at Albany in 1852 in which there were
many pithy interrogative sentences, and he was desirous
of having the interrogation-points appear. So
to make sure, whenever he wished an interrogation-point
he said “question” at the end of almost
every sentence. Next day he was horrified on reading
the speech to see the ends of the sentences bristling
with the word “question.”
Some time back in the fifties a gentleman
in Boston telegraphed to a house in New York to “forward
sample forks by express.” The message when
received by the New York merchant read: “Forward
sample for K. S. by express.” The New York
merchant did not know who K. S. was, nor did he gather
from the dispatch what kind of sample he wanted.
So he went to the telegraph office to have the matter
cleared up. The Boston operator repeated the
message, saying “sample forks.” “That’s
the way I received it and so delivered it sample
for K. S.,” said New York. “But,”
says Boston, “I did not say for K. S.; I said
f-o-r-k-s.” New York had read it wrong
in the start and could not get it any other way.
“What a fool that Boston fellow is. He
says he did not say for K. S., but for K. S.”
Boston had to resort to the United States mail before
the mystery was solved.
Curiously enough, the old method of
recording the dots and dashes on the paper strip was
not so reliable as the present mode of reading by
sound. A man can put his individuality to some
extent into a sounder, and when one becomes used to
his style it is much easier to read him accurately
by sound than by the paper impressions. Some people
never could learn to read either by paper or sound.
An instance of this kind is given of a middle-aged
man who was employed by a railroad company as depot
master and telegraph operator, in the old days of the
paper strip. One day he rushed out and hailed
the conductor of a train that had just pulled into
the station, and told him that
train had broken both driving-wheels and was badly
smashed up. The conductor could read the mystic
symbols, so he took the tape and deciphered the dispatch
as follows: “Ask the conductor of the Boston
train to examine carefully the connecting-rods of
both driving-wheels, and if not in good condition to
await orders.” It is further related of
this same operator that when he got into real difficulty
with his “tape” he used to run over to
the regular commercial office to have his messages
translated. One day he rushed into his neighbor’s
office trailing the tape behind him and saying:
“I am sure an awful accident has happened by
the way the message was rattled off.” A
playful dog had torn off a large part of the strip
as it trailed along, so only a part was left.
It read, “Good morning, Uncle Ben. When
are you ” The dog had swallowed
the balance of the dispatch.
Sometimes the Morse code is not only
funny but disastrous. A gentleman wanted to borrow
money of some capitalists who, not knowing his financial
standing, telegraphed to a banker who they knew could
post them. They received an answer, “Note
good for large amount.” The gentleman borrowed
a “large amount,” but afterward when it
came to be investigated it was found that the dispatch
was originally written “not,” instead
of “note,” which made “all the difference
in the world.”
It has been stated that any one of
the five senses may be called into service to interpret
the Morse code into words and ideas. A story is
told by Mr. Prescott that he says is true, as he knew
the party. A friend of his, by name Langenzunge,
who knew the Morse code, had served under General
Taylor (who at this time was President) at Palo Alto,
in Mexico. The general had just promised him
an office; soon after he left Washington for the west
over the Baltimore and Ohio on a freight train; the
President was taken seriously ill, and his friend hearing
of it was troubled not only because he loved the old
general, but on account of the change in his own prospects.
The train stopped somewhere on the Potomac at midnight
and remained there for four hours. Uneasy and
sad, he wandered down the track and climbed a pole,
cut the wire and placed the ends each side of his
tongue and tasted out the fatal message “Died
at half-past ten.” The shock (not the electric)
was so great that he almost fell from the pole.
What a situation! A man climbs
a pole at midnight miles from the sick friend he loves,
puts his tongue to inanimate wire, and is told in
concrete language through the sense of taste that
his friend is dead. This is only one of the many,
many wonderful episodes of the telegraph.