If you wish my daughter," said Hubbard, "you must abandon your foolish telephone.
For exactly three months after his interview with Professor Henry, he continued to plod ahead, along both lines, until, on that memorable hot afternoon in June, 1875, the full TWANG of the clock-spring came over the wire, and the telephone was born.
The telephone was now in existence, but it was the youngest and feeblest thing in the nation.
For forty weeks--long exasperating weeks-- the telephone could do no more than gasp and make strange inarticulate noises.
It was not easy, of course, for the weak young telephone to make itself heard in that noisy workshop.
Had I known more about electricity, and less about sound," he said, "I would never have invented the telephone.
As though the very stars in their courses were working for this young wizard with the talking wire, the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia opened its doors exactly two months after the telephone had learned to talk.
Hubbard, after much trouble, had obtained a promise that they would spend a few minutes examining Bell's telephone.
One took up a telephone receiver, looked at it blankly, and put it down again.
And so, with the tall, blond-bearded Dom Pedro in the centre, the assembled judges, and scientists--there were fully fifty in all-- entered with unusual zest into the proceedings of this first telephone exhibition.
So, one after another, this notable company of men listened to the voice of the first telephone, and the more they knew of science, the less they were inclined to believe their ears.