Evening Star Newspaper, June 14, 1925, Page 78

2 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JUNE 14, 1925—PART 5. Ship Is Gripped by Sand and Torn by Waves on Coast of Red Sea Explorers on Yacht Wisdom Await Attack by Bedouins While They Are Helpless in the Grip of Neptune. In a preceding article Capt Salisbury vividly described a visit made by him and Merian C. Cooper to Murderers Island, the convict colony maintained by the British on one of the Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal. This was one of the many strange places touched by the yacht Wis- dom in its wanderings as a sea =Vpsy. This is a joint record of their adventures. although for conve- nience in the text Capt. Salisbury appears as the narrator. BY EDWARD A. SALISBURY. T is a long sail from Murderers Island to the Red Sea, and the Wisdom had wandered, RypSY fashion, through the waters be- tween those two points. But this night when you now find the Wisdom <he has just entered the southern end of the Red Sea. and is being driven by a spanking breeze north for Su Now everybody who has ever read anything about the Bast knows that the Red Sea is a long, abnormally calm body of ofly black water. Well, everybody knows just wrong. The Red Sea isn't that at all The Red Sea is a thirtesm-hundred mile stretch of water-treachery. It is A mixture of contrary gales, of shift- ing sands and shoals, of lighthouses that don’t lizht. of decrepit coast vil lages filled with hostile Bedouins, and pilots who don't know how to pilot. At any rate, that is the Red Sea in February. If you don't believe it, ask any of the hetrogeneous crew of my ship and you will find my opinion of it embellished by the colorful vocabu lary of half a dozen nations. During our first night up that body of water we were supposed to pass the lighthouse of Mocha, once famous for its coffee. a deserted town on the southwest coast of Yemen, in Arabia. The sailing directions said that the ight stood feet above the water, and was visible 19 miles away. A fine guide of brilliant white flashes to make plain the danger of a wicked coast to mariners sailing down the dark of the night. A fine guide, but T was awakened by shock which alm my bunk. In a scram bling up the companionway stairs. 1 clung to the railing as I mounted, for the Wisdom was almost on her side, and she shook and quivered like a helpless thing 1 knew it could only be one of two things—reef or rocks; and that, as stoutly built as she was, the little sea ypsy could not stand buffeting long: t Would tear the bottom out of any craft that ever floated. As I swung up on deck a great roller hurled itself in with crashing force, breaking clear over the ship; the rushing water struck me full in face and body, hoking me, and I just managed to grasp the lifeline to save myself from being swept over the side HUNG and took one quick * % 1 glance around. By moonlight T could see the figures of the watch on deck, hanging on to anything they had been able to grasp, and the watch below coming tumbling up. Up came big Mac, naked but for a bright red, white-flowered South Sea pareu; up came Shorty choedsack, his tall frame covered with morgeous purple pajamas; up came Cooper, bare to the waist, with a hideous bright red Malay sarong clinging about his legs. From forward came John, all but naked, with his knife swinging to the belt fastened about his middle, and Fiji Jack. wearing only a_ flapping undershirt All were swinging along desperately, for the Wisdom had tilt- ed still farther over. since she had first struck and was now held hard by the force of a s nking breeze beating against -~ sails. The big main: fluttering like <ome wild bird caught in a snate, wi almost touching the water, and the waves which broke over the deck were likewise drenching its lower half. But the Wisdom did not move; she was hard and fast on a ridge of some kind; if & sand bar, there was a chance; If a reef of coral, the ship was done for. We had run almost dead ahead into danger, for I could just make out in front of us the quiet waters of a &hoal, while the mainland was only a few hundred vards away. From sea- ward thousands of tons of water swept in in the shape of huge rollers, which broke themselves into a thou- sand parts with deafening roars on the reef on which our little ship lay. Ten minutes of this, and she would break up: a fierce gust of wind, and over she would go. It looked like the finish. Should we take to the boats or have a shot at saving her? “Take the chance, take the chanc I thought. Then— “Down with the mainsail’” Taylor &prings to the main peak halllard, and the rest of the crew string out some- how along the mainsheet. Down comes the peak: and, the wind «pills out of the mainsail, the men on ite_sheet begin to haul mightily. Ordinarily it is a long, hard job to get in that sail against a stiff ‘wind, and we have to luff her so that there is little preséure against it; but you cannot Iuff a ship that is stuck on a a tremendous threw as reef. All that can be done is to pull, and pull for life. Every wave that strikes seems as if it wili break the bottom out -of her. and it is certain that with full sail on | her in a few moments she will turn turtle. “Lay on her, boys, lay on her!” And how they lay on her! There is no way to stand firm on that deck, for it is tilted far over at a shoot-the- chutes angle, and no shoot-the-chutes was ever more slippery. Impossible— but they do it. Nobody whines, no- body loses his head except the fright- ened mess-hoys who are clinging on forward, one of them down on his knees either trying to pray or knocked there by the last wave. Mac ew England twang sounds slow and undisturbed, in regular ca dence: “Heave—heave—heave.” And somehow, with the word, they grip that sliding slippery deck with their bare feet and heave away. Some one starts an old chanty, sung on the Wisdom of a hundred up-anchors. On the last word the boom gives the last few precious inches, and is in. And now they swing on the down- haul; and now, struggling and fight- ing, the big brown sanvas starts down: but just as it does the ship gives a tremendous forward lurch. Sinking? No! She's off! She's off! * x ok x ITH that she slides over the sand bar, but the mizzensail jibes; the boom tackle holds. and the mizzensail rips to tatters. For a long breathless second the ship rests on the back of a swell; then the swell rolls forward, the ship slides down its side and the stern strikes bottom with a gut-shat- tering shock. It is evident that the depth inside the bar is less than the ship's present draught. And we soon realized why, and at what a cost. At that last tre. mendous jar the entire 10-ton lead keel, which had enabled the Wisdom to carry heavy canvas, has been torn off, and now remains stuck in the sand bar, while the ship floats clear. Only if it is now low tide, and the tide is coming in, have we a chance in a thousand of finding an opening out through the bar at dawn; if the tide is high and running out, we can never make it. But there is not time to think of that now, for the ship is being blown farther shoreward. So: “Let go the anchor.”” They heave up that 500- pound anchor from the shocks as if it were a thistle, and over she goes and down she goes—and holds. For the moment we are safe, for the sand bar breaks the heavy surf, and here inside the bar is only a deep swell, but even this swell lets the Wisdom down on the bottom with terrific crashes. The stern is taking the heaviest blows. so we pump our drinking water, which is in the after compartments; over the side, and shift the stores from the lazaret to the forecastle deck. There is nothing to do now but shoot distress rockets—which fizzle dismally—and wait for the dawn, and hope. On the shore a light flickered along the sands. And I remembered what I had been told at Aden by men whose business it was to sall the Arabian coast. “It's a bad place to be wrecked on.” they said. “The Be- douins will do you in for the loot on your ship without the slightest com- puction if they think they gan get away with ft.” 80 T directed Cooper and Dresser, the Dane, to get the guns ready, and Schoedsack to solder up our motion picture film, for I was determined to save that anyway. A few minutes later I started below to see how things were there, and as I was on the stalrs the Wisdom struck bottom with a flercer jar than usual, and 1 was thrown against the banis. ters. These gave way. and 1 hurtled down, landing on my back. T picked myseif up gingerly, and, cursing, crawled to a seat and looked around 1 considered our predicament. The Wisdom was still pounding on the sand bottom—for sand it must be, or she would already have broken up. T hoped it was low tide, but, even if was, there was little chance of find- ing ‘an opening on the bar through which to escape to deep water. Also, she was already taking in much water, for the pounding had opened up her seams; and I could hear the steady rhythm of the pumps now, as Taylor was working the men above to keep her afloat. x x x % THE question was to prepare for her breaking up or becoming stranded. If we were forced to land, should we make an armed camp and send the dory the hundred miles down the coast for help, or should we try to march along the coast ourselves? Either chance looked pretty bad If the natives lived up to their reputa- tion. And what of the flickering light on shore? Did that mean hostile Be. douins already? And what the devil had happened to that lighthouse, with its brilliant white light flashing its message of warning 19 miles out to Why didn’t any one see it? very few seconds my thoughts were interrupted by the heavy crash of the keel on the bottom, followed by an agonizing unsteady quivering. ¢ AT ROLLERiHl'RVI.ED ITSELF IN WilT»HV RAEHI‘V(; FORCE.” But gradually the pounding became less and less. The tide was coming in as the dawn came slowly creeping up from behind the grim desert moun. tains. Then the sun rose round and red, and on shore I could see figures running back and forth. and far up the coast line the tip of a mosque minaret glistening white. The crowd on shore increased; through the glasses we could see a long row of Arabs squatting like vultures on the sand dunes And still the tide rose. As the sun climbed higher and higher, lighting up the water, we looked out anxiously seeking an opening in the sand bar; and suddenly we spotted. there in the line of white breakers which marked the sand bank, a bit of blue water Here was the thousandth chance. We took it. Dresser tried the auxiliary gasoline motor, which we used in times of necessity, instead of sails. It worked Up anchor, and with the lead line measuring our depth every 15 sec onde we crawled slowly ahead. With full motor we could just make steer ageway The bow of the Wisdom poked slow 1y into the strip of blue water. Not a sound from any one. This was the moment. Then “By the deep sang out Mac from the chains. Three fathoms of water: three fath oms, and we draw only two! .The thousandth chance had won Ten seconds more and we were out side—and safe. Outside the south wind was still blowing strongly. so we decided. de apite the loss of the lead keel and the open seams in the stern which made up keep the pumps going almost con tinually, that, rather than turn back ignominiously to Aden, we would keep on for Suez. With that fine south wind we thought we could make it surely in a few days with the motor, for now the use of much sail was im. possible, for without keel to balance her the Wisdom was pretty likely to turn turtle under full canvas, Suddenly it seemed that, almost with the thought of preventing us from reaching Suez, the Red Sea be- | came enraged, for the wind shifted clear around, and blew from the north. And blew up hard. We could make no headway against it, but list ing far over to starhoard the Wis dom seemed to stay in one spot, pitch nose upward toward the sky and fall back in the same place again, to repeat the performance when the next wave struck her. And all the while the men pumped, and pumped, and pumped. WE consulted the chart. Jidda, on the coast of Arabia. was the nearest port. So I ordered the Dane to shut off the motor, and, cautiously holsting what was left of the sails, we tacked for that port. We sighted Jidda at last, and as its tall white houses rose out of the desert as we approached, it seemed a haven of rest S e to our weary crew, for at Jidda I had determined to wait until the wind shifted around and gave us a chance to beat up to Suez for dry dock and repairs. At Jidda we found that that sup posed 19-mile flashing white light to warn poor mariners from the treach erous coast at Mocha had been ex tinguished long before by the Be douins. Jidda is an old, decrepit, crowded. and dirty little town. Not a single hotel is to be found there. Mr Thomas Cook has no bright young man walting to greet tourists. You may search the narrow, crooked streets from sunrise till dark and never discover a vendor of picture postcards. There are no theaters, no parks, no drives, no sports. Indeed, a stranger there is a sort of a pris. oner, for the town is surrounded by a high stone wall outside of which he is forbidden to go Without permission. Yet this queer and unlovely little place rivals Southern California and the Riviera in number of visitors. Hundreds of ships, decks packed with men, women, and children, sail there each year from distant countries, and two hundred million people dream all their lives of making the long sea voyage which terminates at its har- bor. The reason for this strange condi- tion fs that this desert town is the port to Mecca, where stands the House of Allah, the sacred shrine for the Holy Pllgrimage of Islam. Thus it is said to be the Port of Paradise. Accompanfed by Taylor, Cooper, McNeil and Schoedsack, 1 landed to ask temporary aid while waiting for the north wind to abate 8o that we could crawl on up to Suez. We en tered the town through the great gate which leads directly into the bazaar. Here was the heart of the Port of Paradise. In that squalid square and through the little dark streets teemed the life of all the East—thick-lipped, shiny black African slaves; fezzed Turks ragged wandering dervishes; lepers crawling among the innumerable mangy dogs which dozed In the center | of the ways; turbaned Indians: naked brown boys on donkeys; black-robed, barefooted women, peering out of the eyeslits of face masks from which hung rows of silver and gold and brass coins, and a hundred other types But most distinctive of all were the desert Bedouins. A caravan of hun- dreds of camels had just come in, and through these the crowd squirmed and jostled. The camel men, faces as hard and dry as their sun-baked plains, cast fierce glances at any who dared to brush near them. Each car ried a curved sword or knife, and seemed prepared to use it * % ok % AND among all this outpouring of the mea and desert—the dregs left over from many a Mecca pilgrimage and the native human wolves and Jjackals who prey on the pilgrims we walked, the only Europeans We were in a maze of tall, white houses of four and five and even &ix stories—skyscrapers of the East. The houses were made of coral rock and mud and_ wood. Not one stood straight. They leaned at every angle, except Heavenward. It looked as if a good push would tumble the place down as easily as a child’s city of cards. We found the English consulate, peering out over the city wall, seem ingly just ready to pitch itself into the desert. It was an immense five storied buflding, with a most dilap- idated remnant of garden in front. I told the British consul, Marshall by name, what 1 wanted. “I'll arrange an audience for you with the kaimakan—that's the gov ernor, you know,” he said. “Splendid,” said I. Accompanied by an interpreter from the consulate we walked over to his house, which was near by. The kaim- akan (governor) emiled his benevolent smile; he salaamed; so did we. Five minutes were spent in exchanging | compliments. Then the kaimakan placed work- men and anything else we needed at our dieposal, to repair, if we wished, some of the damage to our ship. This kind offer included drinking water, and let me tell you right here that water is as fine a prexent as one can give in Jidda. The rich men of the town import their water clear from Bombay. For water is not only scarce here | between the desert and the salt sea, but the water obtained from these desert wells is as bitter as gall. I declined the kaimakan's offer, but asked permission to take motion ple- tures. Motion The benevolent kaimakan's pictures! smile dropped from the face. I explained. The interpreter interpreted my explanation. And finally the kaimakan gave permission, but with a dubious air. As we went down the stairs 1 saw two masked ladies peering out of a door at us No sooner were we back at the British consulate than the kaimakan called up and said to hold up the pic tures until he could telephone the King at Mec Telephone Mecca! The mystic city, the unknown! It sounded as if some one was saying “Wait a minute until I call up the man in the moon.” But the telephone line to the Holy City of Allah was efficient apparently, for a few min utes later the kaimakan came back all bows. His round, happy face rip pled and rippled with ever-expanding lines of henevolence. * ox ok % "THE King was delighted to hear of our arrival, he said. Only the presence of a guest—the ex-Sultan of Turkey, who had arrived a short time before—prevented his coming down from Mecca to receive us in person Otherwise he would surely come But as he could not with politeness leave the Sultan, he was sending his eldest son, Emir Ali, the Crown Prince to bid us welcome. As for any pic tures we wished to take., why, of course. And at our disposal were what guards we needed, and any- thing else we.wanted. Meanwhile would we honor the kaimakan by our presence at a reception to be given for us the next day? Early in the morning after the re. ception given us by the (Governor of Jidda, I was informed that the Crown Prince, Emir All, who has since become King, had arrived from Mecca, and was walting to recefve me. He was staying at his house, which looked out over the town wall to the sea. A black steep flight floor, and there major-domo of stairs led us up a to the second ushered us into a waiting room. Almost immediately a spectacled, clean-shaven Arab entered and was introduced to me by the vice consul as Sheikh Fuad El Khatich, secretary of state. He ac knowledged the introduction with a few courteous words in excellent Snglish, then led the way up to the next floor, where he removed his sandals at a doorway draped with a silken curtain. He pushed this aside then bowed as a sign for us to enter. Seated on a divan at one end of a long room was a &lim, somber figure in a dark kamis. The face was that of an esthetic thinker, but the ener. getic movement bespoke the man of action as well. This was, of course. Emir Ali, with whom we spent an hour or more in pleasant conversa A day or two iater went to the tomb of Mother kve. which 1 the desert just cutside the town v The grave is several hundred fee long. Three domes mark the posl don of her head, feet and waist, and two low walls, 4 vard or o apart, connect them. We found that the tomb was not regarded with great re- spect by the Mahommedans—and why should it bhe? Islam would ask—for after all, it is only the tomb of a woman, even if she was the mothi of mankind This story was to have been a long one. It was to have told how the Wisdom was repaired, and how she triumphantly went through the Med iterranean, sailed across the Atlant nd arrived back in America with strange and picturesque crew, a circumnavigating the globe. But stead, the tale is quite different from the one I had planned e JFOR 10 days we and the thrice-cursed wind still blew from the north, and we could not venture out to gea Then, as the wind still continued, on the eleventh day we hired an old native pilot and, sailing by day and anchoring at night, the Wisdom pain fully crept up the inland passage within the reefs toward Suez It took us 10 more days to cover four-fifths of the distance, for f turned out that the pilot, who spent most of his time tr ) convert u to Mohammedanism, knew only a part of the way; then we picked up a coast fisherman, and when his knowledze failed felt way along with a lead line. And all this steadily from waited at Jidda, Red Sea the wind blew th, preventing the Wisdom, in h ypled condition from coming from behind the protection of the reefs. At last, when only a few miles from Suez, the wind shifted dead around and, for the first time since we had been wrecked over three weeks before, it blew from the south. Oh, ice-cursed con trary Red Se: At Suez we found was impossitle ired as we wished fell {11 from a fever contracted on the A an coast— we took a chance and Luck w now with us, nd we made port in Italy, and prepared to _go in dr K Then, afts sea-worthy, it was to be wes for America! We moved to a ing aboard one the Greeks evening for niglh watchmanr next morning we were a the excited 'local ship cha “Your ship, she burn! He rushed us to the water front his automobile. But we had come late. There, out in the stream, wt the night before had been tle Wisdom, sl white and graceful and lovely despite her wander and many late bu was a all smoke z The se landfal rented villa the k made her last tion Scientists Say Speaker Rarely Knows Own Voice F you think you know how your own voice sounds to others you are wrong—completely Wrong No one heara his own voice as other people hear it. This has been indicated as the rule without ex- ception in tests carried on for the last three years by Richard C. Borden, 8. . and Alvin C. Busse, M. New York Uni- for instance, the case of MacNamee, “over-theair” whose voice is familiar to of radio fans. Be “public speaking MacNamee certainly knows more Graham announcer, many thousands ing a specialist in Mr. Bible Histo . S. MALONEY. STELA, or carved commemora tive monument, the most im- portant yet found at Ur of the Chaldeans, where the joint ex- vedition of the University of Pennsylvania and British Museums are excavating, was discovered through the perseverance of Maj. C. Leonard Wool- ley, a widely known Oriental archeolo- ist. here was no reason to_ suppose that anything of value was buried in that partieular spot: all that had been found was a brick pavement, revealed after laborious digging through 7 feet of hard soil. Maj. Woolley hesitated to spend money in continuing there, yet he experienced a curious feeling im- pelling him to go on. Almost the first day's search after he decided to continue vielded a door socket of King Bu n (2200 B. C., with 52 lines of inscription giving the history of the temple's beginnings. But it was in the western wing of E-dublal- makh, the old shrine and court of jus- tice, that the discovery was made that overshadowed all others. Here the pavement was littered with lumps and blocks of limestone, ail belonging to one monument, the stela. This stela was a slab 5 feet in width and perhaps 15 feet high, carved on both sides with a series of historical scenes arranged in horizontal bands of unequal heights. On one of the frag- ments was found the name of Ur- Engur, author of the stela, founder of the third dynasty and builder of the Ziggurat (pyramid or mound), and de- spite the fact that none of the regis- ters is complete, the monument is one of the two most important relics of Sumerian art known, the other being the famous but equally fragmentary Stela of the Vultures in the Louvre. Dr. George B. Gordon, director of the Pennsylvania University Muséum, said that every new discovery in Bible lands lends historical corroboration to the Book of Genesis. “Even support is given,” Df. Gordon said, “to the earliest and much contro- verted story in the Book of Genesis. We have gotten back bit by bit until now we are able to know the history 4,000 years B. C. We may go back further in time until we find corrobo- ration of the stories of the very be- ginnings.” “Our first knowledge of Ur of the Chaldeans,” continued the doctor, lean- ing back in his swivel chair in his office in the museum at 34th and Spruce streets, Philadelphia, and gaz- ing out of the window with a 3,000 B. C. lock in his eyes, utterly oblivious to his present-day surroundings, “is from the Book of Genesis. In the élev- enth chapter of that book we are told of the bullding of the Tower of Babel after the flood. Then'the narrative goes on to describe the dispersion of the people and the confusion of tongues. “Next we are given the genealogy of Abraham from Shem, the son of Noah. ‘The thaptér winds up with the state- ment that Abraham, together with his father, Tera; his wife, Sarai, and his nephew, Lot, went from Ur to go into the land of Canaan—that is to say, the modern Palestine. “Thus early in the Book of Begin- nings ‘We have a mention of Ur of the Chaldeans. It is not mentioned again in the Bible, the Book of Genesis be- ing concerned thereafter with the war- derings of -Abraham and the adven- tures of his desceendants.” * o Hx 'HE recent discoveries, as Dr. Gor- don then explains, reveal the fact that the city of Ur was more than 2,000 years old when Abraham left it, about his own voice than does the average man. To make the test he was taken to the psychology laboratory, where he talked into a microphone connected with a_dictaphone recording appa- ratus. When his speech was repro- duced on the dictaphone record his friend Carlin. also a radio announcer, happened to be outside the room and recognized the voice at once as being that of MacNamee. But MacNamee himself at first declared he had never heard it before, and was amazed to learn the truth. This is typical of ev test made ry Verified and scholars today say Abraham lived 000 years B. C. middle Tt was not until the of the last century that Sir Henry Rawlinson, the great arche- ologist, discovered the ruins of Ur, burled and lost in the Syrian Desert 10 miles west of the river Euphrates and about 80 miles north of the Per- sian Gulf. The most prominent part of the ruins is a broad-spreading mound that rises high above the level surface of the desert, with a still higher protu- berance in the middle. This land- mark, that can be seen at great dis- tance across the desert, is known as a “Ziggurat” or tower, and is exactly like the Tower of Babel, which, al- though it has itself entirely disap- peared, is fairly represented by the Zigxurat of Ur of the Chaldeans. The political changes brought about by the World War directed attention to the antiquities of the Euphrates lley, and as soon as peace came arrangements were made for the joint work of expedition to excavate Ur of Chaldea for light on the early his tory of the city of Abraham. The start was made in 1922, under the direction of Maj. Woolley, who still is in charge. But o far, to quote Dr. Gordon, “the surface has only been scratched.” Tt is possible only to work between November 1 and the end of February, as the rest of the vear'is Summer in Ur, with the tem- perature rising to 125 degrees in the shade—and there isn't any shade. Tn spite of this condition the results already have added whole chapters to the history of the Euphrates Valley. Work has been begun on the Temple of the Moon God and upon the great Ziggurat itself. In the course of the excavations inscriptions have been found that carry the history of Ur as a royal city back to 4000 B.C. The oldest known inscription in the world, written on a limestone tablet, was di covered last season and refers to a King called A-an-ni-pa-da, the second ruler of the first dynasty. All around the ruins of Ur today is spread the parched desert with no green thing in sight, but it is assumed that in Biblicgl times, when it was in- habited, the desert had not encroached so far upon the valley of the Buphrates. The Temple of the Moon God was a vast inclésure surrounded by a wall, within which the house of the deity occupied only a small area. And this temple was the seat of government, as the god was the lawgiver of the {1and, and his ministers exercised their authority from within his inclosure. This accounts for the great number of houses, storerooms and offices found within the temple wall. The woman employe was no novice in 4000 B.C. The excavations have révealed Yécords showing that num- bers of female workers were employed in various industries, the principal one of Which was weaving. 3 * x ok % A. interesting discovery made in the temple was the quarters of the high priestess. A museum was found in these quarters containing relics that the high priestess had gathered together, covering two mil: lenniums. It was apparently a pub- lic museum, because in an inscription the Kigh priestess declares that she founded it for the admiration of the ‘people. But this lady was only a youngster, as compared with those who lived in the early days of Ur, back in the 4000s B.C. Her date was 650 B.C. She was the daughter of Nabonidus, the last Kl?g of Babylon. by the New York University psychol ogists. Not once have they found a person who recognized his own voice when it was reproduced o that he could hear it as others did. During fone part of their experiments the psychologists took 200 pairs of boys, testing them two at a time. In every case A would recognize B'S voice when it was reproduced on the dictaphone record, and B would likewise recog nize A's, but in no case did either A or B recognize his own manner of speaking. Why is it that every one of us thus has two voices—one that he himself hears and a different one that every one else hears? “Partly because each of us hears his own' voice through the tissues of the body as well as through the air eurrounding him,” answers Mr. Bor- den. “You know what a difference it makes if you hear a sound traveling through mome denser substance than air, such as water or earth. “It {8 the same principle here. The sound of vour volce comes to your ear not only through the air imme diately around you, but also through A _part of your own body. The total effect made upon your ear drums is quite different from that received by others who must catch the sound of | your voice s it travels through the air waves alone. “Every one is inclined to magnify | his own speaking ability. Men have a tendency to think they are possessed | of a strong, deep tone which they may in reality lack.” * ook ox HERE is one type of talker who crushed far more than any other when he understands how he sounds to other people. He is the orator—especially the orator with af- fected airs. “We have found,” says Mr. Borden, “that the habitual &peech- maker discovers his own voice to be much more difficult of recognition than does the person who indulges only in ordinary conversation. These ‘loud speakers’ are often quite hu- miliated by the expose. ““The speaker's most severe critic is himsef,” the psychologist declares, once he has learned how he does. in | fact, sound to others. “I remember one student who was is DEMONSTRATING THE DEVICE delivering a talk before the class room. and whom we criticized rather strongly on his voice and method of delivery. He thought the criticism quite unjustified. Now it happened that we had previously concealed a dictaphone apparatus in the room, so we had an accurate record of that same speech which he had considered 50 good “We told him to listen to a record of 4 voice we were about to repro- duce and criticize it. Then we turned on the speech he had just made. He began to writhe in his seat, pull up his t collar and exhibit other symptome of discomfort. When the end finally came he blurted out ‘You're certainly right! I ought to get D on that, though, instead of the C you gave me. You ated me too high!" He criticized his own talk far more severely than any one else had done We have found this generally to be the case; the best critic in the world for your own defects is yourself, once you are enabled to see and hear your- self objectively—just as other people see and hear you." Having thus demonstrated that the individual cannot cure his speech de fects by his own efforts alone. be- cause, to start with, he often do hear ‘those defects, the New University investigators delved means of aid and correetion. They divided the faulty speech into major groups. Mr. Bor- den explains the characteristics of each group and how the cure is ef- fected. “Organic troubles cause many faults—tonsils or adenolds, or some obstruction in the nose block up the air passages. A surgeon must remove the abnormal conditions, but that we have to spend weeks training the patient to make the correct sounds: he must learn certain words all over again. “Foreign dialects are another type of defec instance, has no ‘th’ sound as English has, and so we must teach it to the German immigrant. We have models of the tongue and other vocal organs which we work to show him just how the new sound can be made. “Little nickel-plated instruments which force his tongue intb the cor rect position are inserted in his into types of FOR RECORDIN various | after | The German language, for | mouth, if he cannot pronounce even after the demonstration—which is often the case. All he has to do is breathe in or out, and he produces the sound. Having once accomplished that, he i& on the road to succes: “Provincial dialects form a th! group. The Bowery ‘boid’ for ‘bird is an example. These faults require the same treatment as do the foreign dialects. LTy ARE] do vou ronounce .bly’ you slur over it until the re | is something like ‘wits. ‘Pumpk is another one—we generally he | ‘bungkin.’ That is because of the dificulty of transition between the consonants p and k. The ‘p' sound is made at the front of the mouth the ‘k’ sound in the back, where the soft palate raises against the wall of [ the throat. It isfoo much trouble for the ordinary tafker to make tha difficult and quick change from the front of the mouth to the back. and %0 he uses an 'ng’ sound. which i formed far back in the mouth. That goes easily with 'k, and ‘pungkin’ is the result “The ‘nasal voice’ causes much trouble—both excess nasality and sufficient nasality. Clamp vour nos trils with your {humb and forefinge: and repeat this sentence: ‘Many ried men must make money.’ peculiar tone yvou notice is due to ir sufficient nasality If y¥ou pronounce such a sentence the same way when Your nostrils are open as you do when You clamp them are troubled with lack of nasal tone." Iixcess of nasality can be detected, Mr. Borden points out, by repeat ing a sentence containing mo nasal consonants. It should sound the sumne whether or t the nostrils are clamp. ed. Thus: “Shakespeare is regarded | as'a great playwright.” As this ks | nasal sounds. there is no occasion for the air to go through the nose It does not, of course, when the nostrils are clamped. and likewise it | should not when they are open 17 there is a noticeable difference. it indi cates thi the speaker allowing air to go through his nasal passages when he speaks ordinarily, as does the New Englander with his’ twang, when he should not be doing ESS defects Fe RADIO ANNOUNCEMENTS. THROUGH THE DE- VICE, WHICH HAS RECORDED ANNOUNCEMENTS FROM EVERY BROADCASTING STATION IN THE COUNTRY, AN EFFORT IS BEING MADE 70 STANDARDIZE THE “RADIO VOICE.”