At the possible risk of throwing more of the incendiary onto that only
barely put-out fire of recent, comes now this little pint of gasoline,
compliments of the January 25th issue of "PRESTO," for year 1925.
(This writer has endeavored to reproduce it below exactly as it then
appeared.)

Start --

  HOW SALESMEN WERE GIVEN BIG SURPRISE

  President Heaton, of Auto Pneumatic Action Co. Springs New One in
Demonstration of Welte-Mignon (Licensee) Recording.

  Salesmen from all parts of the country for the Welte-Mignon
(Licensee) gathered in New York last week to attend the annual
conference of the sales force and executives.  Each day of the
conference there were discussions of sales policies, manufacturing
problems, service to dealers, advertising and many other topics that
are indispensable to good business.

  During the evening, at the dinners, there were speeches and further
deliberations when the coffee and cigars were reached.

  The boys had a busy time in New York, but they got the biggest
surprise of their visit on the first day of the conference.  William
C. Heaton, president of the Auto Pneumatic Action Company, conceived
the idea and it happened this way:

  The boys, of course, "know all about" the Welte-Mignon (Licensee)
reproducing mechanism.  They are thoroughly "sold" on it themselves.
Yet Mr. Heaton, nevertheless, did show them something they didn't know.
Some of them know how to "tickle the ivories," and when they get near
a piano they can't resist playing with the keyboard.  In the middle
of this first conference Mr. Heaton asked Walter Lund, one of the most
accomplished among those who can play, to entertain the gathering with
a selection.

  "What shall I play?" asked Lund, as he went over to one of the pianos
in the Welte-Mignon (Licensee) recording room, where the meeting was in
session.

  "Anything at all," replied Mr. Heaton; and the crowd might have
suspected from that that something was going on, but, if they did, none
showed any sign of it.

  Lund began to play the dainty little phantasy, "A Kiss in the Dark."
Before the clapping was over a boom in the recording room announced
that Lund had been photographed just as he was about to play an encore.
The playing over, the crowd was immersed again in the discussion of
business, when Dr. Davis, in charge of recording, whispered to Mr.
Heaton.  In a moment Mr. Heaton silenced the talking and told the boys
to listen to the roll Dr. Davis would put in the reproducing piano.
Presently Lund commenced playing a piano in another corner of the
recording room.  He was playing that piano, although at the very time
he himself was across the room from it expressing his surprise to the
boys around him.

  Mr. Heaton had made a recording of his playing just to give the boys
a first-hand demonstration of the speed and accuracy of Welte-Mignon
(Licensee) recording mechanism.

  Wonderful strides, not only in recording, but in handling every
detail of making Welte-Mignon (Licensee) records, have been accomplished
in the Welte-Mignon (Licensee) Laboratories, and Mr. Heaton wanted to
prove that perfect recordings are actually made in the astonishingly
short time of one hour.  That was the time actually consumed in
completing Mr. Lund's record so that it reproduced with extraordinary
fidelity every little characteristic of his playing.

End --


As His Majesty the Austrian Emperor once commented to Salieri:
"Well ... there 'tiz!!"  And indeed, so 'twas!

There is no question -- the W-M (Licensee) "boys" had FUN and,
who knows what else of such like as attending, might have or not
transpired, within those elevated sound-proofed rooms, ones dedicated
to high-to-low artistry, as recorded for "The Ages"?

That said (necessarily or no) what now are we to make of these two
reports?  Neither featured a by-line so, those responsible for the
outraging reportage bits can no longer be held to any account.  Only
those principals named within, could now possibly be postmortem.

Was it after all but only tongue-in-cheek artifice of which those
present knew-well the 'what' of what was going on or, was there
more to it that we, now so remotely located in time, could have
no inkling outside of the demonstrating of self-aggrandizing,
titillating suspicion?

I suppose now that it would not be unjust to admit of detecting at
least the slight scent of slightly life-compromised rat here but,
certainly not that of malice.

Just as with other mysteries of the ages, this one too is likely
never to be solved.

As your writer promised last, "... harder and better."

Jim Miller
Las Vegas, Nevada