United States or Mayotte ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I's comm', Massa Tom," rejoined the colored man. "Never mind coming here! Get a move on, and get to the switchboard. Turn the current out of the fence wires. "Yis, sir, I'll go Massa Tom," declared the old man. "Is he a spotter, Ned?" demanded the inventor. "He's no friend. I am going out by the gate. He's got something there that means harm, I believe. Do you think he's killed, Tom?"
She is a spineless sort of creature, you know, without much self-assurance, or initiative, and I believe she had quite a scene with Mr. Carlis before she left. She was on the switchboard, if you remember, and as well as I was able to understand from her, he caught her listening in on his private connection.
It had passed right over a crowded football stadium at Santa Fe, New Mexico, and people in Denver said it "turned night into day." The crew of a TWA airliner flying into Albuquerque from Amarillo, Texas, saw it. Every police and newspaper switchboard in the two-state area was jammed with calls. One of the calls was from a man inquiring if anything unusual had happened recently.
The governor is provided with an auxiliary spring on the outside of the governor dome for varying the speed while synchronizing. The tension of the auxiliary spring is regulated by a small motor wired to the switchboard. This spring should be used only to correct slight changes in speed.
But it'll be an awfully expensive course. Now, Hupp, let's go over this Kalamazoo account. That'll be all, McChesney." Jock turned without a word. He walked quickly through the outer office, into the great main room. There he stopped at the switchboard. "Er Miss Grimes," he said, smiling charmingly. "Where's this Mr. Griebler, of St. Louis, stopping; do you know?"
Bland keeping vigil by a telephone switchboard in the office below, watching for the flash of light that should tell them some one in the outside world wanted to speak to Baldpate Inn; a mysterious figure who flitted about in the dark; a beautiful girl who was going to ask Mr. Magee to do her a service, blindly trusting her. The professor droned on monotonously. Once Mr.
It was a medley of makeshifts. Almost every part of its outfit had been made for other uses. In Chicago all calls came in to one boy, who bawled them up a speaking-tube to the operators. In another city a boy received the calls, wrote them on white alleys, and rolled them to the boys at the switchboard. There was no number system. Every one was called by name.
Receiver at ear, Spaulding, of Messrs. Atwater & Spaulding, importers of motoring garments and accessories, listened to the switchboard operator's announcement with grave attention, acknowledging it with a toneless: "All right. Send him in."
As quiet as the tomb of Napoleon. Shall I close up shop? Sure. What next? Oh, see here, Andy, I'd die up here. Did you ever hit a place like this in winter? I can't I oh, well, if he says so. Yes. I could do that. But no longer. I couldn't stand it long. Tell him that. Tell him everything's O. K. Yes. All right. Well, good night, Andy." He turned away from the switchboard, and as he did so Mr.
He took the ideas and apparatus that were then in existence, and used them to carry the telephone business through the most critical period of its life, when there was little time or money to risk on experiments. He took the peg switchboard of the telegraph, for in-stance, and developed it to its highest point, to a point that was not even imagined possible by any one else.
Word Of The Day