"
"Didn't know you cared for fishing."
"I don't ordinarily. But it's the only chance I have of finding myself
at the end of a line that isn't busy."
"Has the line been busy?" asked the man with a nickel poised between
his thumb and forefinger.
"No," answered the precise operator. "The line wasn't busy. I was."
"What name are you calling?" asked the telephone-girl over the wire.
"McCohan," the customer answered.
"I beg pardon?" asked the girl.
The man repeated it.
The wire was silent for a moment, then the girl said: "Wait a moment,
please. I think the wires are crossed."
"I once knew an eccentric man," stated old Festus Pester, "who when he
had got the desired number on the telephone did not demand fiercely,
'Whizz ziss?' Instead he invariably said civilly, 'This is John J.
Poppendick, wishing to speak to Mr. Buckover.' His funeral was the
largest ever held in the neighborhood where he had resided, and
thereat strong men broke down and wept like children, being convinced
that they would never again see his like."--_Judge_.
Pat walked into the post-office. After getting into the telephone-box
he called a wrong number. As there was no such number, the
switch-attendant did not answer him.
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