Los Angeles Times, November 4, 1901, page 6.
Commenting upon the experiments recently made with the Armstrong and Orling systems of wireless telegraphy, a correspondent of the London Spectator waxes prophetic, and forecasts all sorts of wonderful things to come to pass in the future. He says:
"Some day men and women will carry wireless telephones as today we carry a card case or camera. We shall switch ourselves on to the underground radiations through the medium of our walking sticks or boots, and then tune up our receiver to say tone No. 39,451, and tone No. 39,451 will go about his business undisturbed by other tones. For military purposes it soon will be no longer necessary to carry cumbrous coils of wire, which are always at the mercy of an enemy. The staff officer and the scout each will drive a wireless apparatus into the ground and await the magic touch of the sympathetic tone. Thanks to the Morse code, it will not even be necessary to await perfection in the conveyance of the human voice. A kindred apparatus will magnify the telephonic sound, and some day the mouse for which we shall set a telephonic trap, will be able to roar like a bull. A ship will proclaim her name loudly through the fog and Calais and Dover, in hazy weather, will announce themselves to approaching packets. Wireless torpedoes, probably, will provide the best solution of the difficulties of coast defense, and when a force of watchful and highly-expert electricians is sufficient to supply the torpedoes with guiding machines, how many expensive fortifications might not we do without?"
Perhaps all this may come about "some day." But the achievements of wireless telegraphy, thus far, though they are indeed wonderful, have been considerably more prolific in promises than in fulfillment. Still, it will not do, in this age of strenuousness and progress, to say that anything is impossible. "For we are ancients of the earth, and in the morning of the times."