The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife. Ellen M. Firebaugh

that long?”

      Another voice replied, “Yes, I'll wait. Tell 'em to tell him to come just as quick as he gets back, though.”

      This message was transmitted.

      “And where is he to go?”

      “To Henry Smith's, down by the Big Four depot.”

      A few minutes later Mary had another idea. She went to the 'phone and asked central to give her Drayton, Mr. Walton's house.

      In a minute a voice said, “What is it?” It was restful to Mary to have the usual opening varied. Perhaps eight out of ten began with,

      “Hello!” The other two began, “Yes,” “Well,” “What is it?” and very rarely, “Good morning,” or “Good evening.”

      “Is this the home of Mr. Walton at Drayton?”

      “Yes.”

      “Dr. Blank is there just now, isn't he?”

      “Yes, but he's just going away.”

      “Will you please ask him to come to the 'phone?”

      In a minute her husband's voice was heard asking what was wanted.

      “I want to save you a long walk when you get home, John. You're wanted at Henry Smith's down by the Big Four depot.”

      “All right. I'll go in to see him when I get there. Much obliged.”

      “A mile walk saved there,” mused the doctor's wife, as she joined the two boys, mildly grumbling because they couldn't have their game, and never could have it just when they wanted it. But a few chapters from Ivanhoe read to them by their mother made all serene again.

      The Citizens' 'phone was ringing persistently. The doctor's wife had been upstairs and could not get to it in less than no time! But she got there.

      “Do you know where Dr. Blank is?” the words hurled themselves against her ear.

      “I don't know just at this minute—but he's here in town. I'm sure of that.”

      “Why don't he come then!” The sentence came as from a catapult.

      “I don't know anything about it. Where was he to go?”

      A scornful “Huh!” came over the wire—“I guess you forgot to tell 'im.”

      “I have not been asked to tell him anything this morning.”

      There was heated silence for an instant, then a voice big with wrath:

      “You told me not fifteen minutes ago that you would send him right down.”

      “You are mistaken,” said Mary gently but firmly. “This is the first time I have been at the 'phone this morning.”

      “Well, what do you think of that!” This was addressed to someone at the other end of the line, but it came clearly to Mary's ear and its intonation said volumes.

      “You're the very identical woman that told me when I 'phoned awhile ago that you'd send him right down. It's the very same voice.”

      “There is a mistake somewhere,” reiterated Mary, patiently, “but I'll send the doctor as soon as he gets in if you will give me your name.”

      “I'll tell ye agin, then, that he's to come to Lige Thornton's.”

      “Very well. I'll send him,” and Mary left the 'phone much mystified. “She was in dead earnest—and so was I. I can't understand it.” Glancing out of the window she saw her tall, young daughter coming up the walk. The solution came with lightning quickness—strange she didn't think of that, Gertrude had answered. She remembered now that others had thought their voices very much alike, especially over the 'phone. “If the woman had not talked in such a cyclonic way I would have thought of it,” she reflected.

      When the young girl entered the room her mother said, “Gertrude, you answered the 'phone awhile ago, didn't you?”

      “About twenty minutes ago. Some woman was so anxious for father to come right away that I just ran down to the office to see that he went.”

      “That was very thoughtful of you, dear, but it's little credit we're getting for it.”

      She related the dialogue that had just taken place and mother and daughter laughed in sympathy.

      “Why, Mamma, we couldn't forget if we wanted to. That telephone is an Old Man of the Sea to both of us—is now and ever shall be, world without end.”

      “But did you find your father at the office?”

      “Yes, and waited till he fixed up some medicine for two patients already waiting, then shooed him out before some more came in. I wanted to get it off my mind.”

      “I'm glad he is on his way. Now stay within hearing of the 'phone, dearie, till I finish my work up-stairs.”

      “All right, Mamma, I'm going to make a cake now, but I can hear the 'phone plainly from the kitchen.”

      It wasn't long till a ring was heard. Gertrude dusted the flour from her hands and started. “Which 'phone was it?” she asked the maid.

      “I think it was the Farmers',” said Mollie, hesitating.

      So to the Farmers' 'phone went Gertrude.

      “Hello.”

      No answer.

      “Hello.”

      Silence.

      She clapped the receiver up and hurried to the Citizens' 'phone.

      “Hello.”

      “Is this Dr. Blank's?”

      “Yes.”

      “Is he there?”

      “No, he was called—” Here a loud ring from the other 'phone sounded.

      “He was called down to—” said Gertrude rapidly, then paused, unable to think of the name at the instant.

      “If you will tell me where he went, I'll just 'phone down there for him,” said the voice.

      A second peal from the other 'phone.

      “Yes, yes!” said Gertrude impatiently. “O, I didn't mean that for you,” she hurried apologetically. “The other 'phone is calling, and I'm so confused I can't think. Will you excuse me just an instant till I see what is wanted?”

      “Certainly.”

      She flew to the Farmers' 'phone.

      “Is this Dr. Blank's?”

      “Yes.”

      “Good while a-answerin',” grumbled a voice.

      “I did answer but no one answered me.”

      “Where's the doctor?”

      “He's down in the east part of town—will be back in a little bit.”

      “Well, when he comes tell him—just hold the 'phone a minute, will you, till I speak to my wife.”

      “All right.” But she put the receiver swiftly up and rushed back to the waiting man. She could answer him and get back by the time the other was ready for her.

      “Hello, still there?”

      “Yes.”

      “I've thought of the name—father went to Elijah Thornton's.”

      “Thornton's—let's see—have you a telephone directory handy—could you give me their number?”

      “Wait a minute, I'll see.” She raced through the pages,—“yes,