[My mother's] greatest dread, however, was the Victrola - we had a very early one, back in the "Come Josephine in My Flying Machine" days. She had an idea that the Victrola might blow up,. It alarmed her, rather than reassured her, to explain that the phonograph was run neither by gasoline nor by electricity,. She could only suppose that it was propelled by some newfangled and untested apparatus which was likely to let go at any minute, making us all the victims and martyrs of the wild-eyed Edison's dangerous experiments.
- James Thurber, "The Car We Had to Push," My Life and Hard Times, p.151 in Writings and Drawings
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