For instance, we answered the bell after it had rung several times, and a
sweet little female voice said, "Are you going to receive to-morrow?" We
answered that we were going to receive all the time. Then she asked what
made us so hoarse? We told her that we had sat in a draft from the bank,
and it made the cold chills run over us to pay it. That seemed to be
satisfactory, and then she began to tell us what she was going to wear,
and asked if we thought it was going to be too cold to wear a low neck
dress and elbow sleeves. We told her that was what we were going
to wear, and then she began to complain that her new dress was too tight
in various places that she mentioned, and when the boys picked us up off
the floor and bathed our temples, and we told them to take her away, they
thought we were crazy.
[Illustration: AT THE TELEPHONE.]
If we have done wrong in talking with a total strangers who took us for a
lady friend, we are willing to die. We couldn't help it. For an hour we
would not answer the constant ringing of the bell, but finally the bell
fluttered as though a tiny bird had lit upon the wire and was shaking its
plumage. It was not a ring, but it was a tune, as though an angel, about
eighteen years old, a blonde angel, was handling the other end of the
transmitter, and we felt as though it was wrong for us to sit and keep her
in suspense, when she was evidently dying to pour into our auricular
appendage remarks that we ought to hear.
Pages:
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236