g,
amazed, and wondering if she supposed I could not read my own
hand-writing, then scowled and threw it down disgustedly saying, 'John
never can read _that!_ I shall have to write it myself. He knows my
writing!'"

"Can such things be!" cried Miss Archer.

"But," asked Quimby, from his uncomfortable perch on the edge of the
chair, "Isn't there a--a something--a _fac-simile_ arrangement?"

"I believe there is, but it is not yet perfected," replied Nattie.

"Ah, well! then the young woman was only in advance of the age," said
Miss Archer; "and what with that and the telephone, and that dreadful
phonograph that bottles up all one says and disgorges at inconvenient
times, we will soon be able to do everything by electricity; who knows
but some genius will invent something for the especial use of lovers?
something, for instance, to carry in their pockets, so when they are far
away from each other, and pine for a sound of 'that beloved voice,' they
will have only to take up this electrical apparatus, put it to their
ears, and be happy. Ah! blissful lovers of the future!"

"Yes!--I--yes, that would be a good idea!" cried Quimby eagerly; then
instantly fearing he had betrayed himself, turned red, and clutched at
the mustache that eluded his grasp. Miss Archer looked at him and
smiled, and Nattie was about to expound further when she heard "C"
asking on the wire,

"N, haven't your visitors gone yet? Tell them to hurry!"

"You wouldn't say so," Nattie responded to him, "if you knew what a
handsome young lady one of my two visitors is. We have been talking
about you, too."

"Introduce me, please do," said "C."

"What are you doing, now?" asked Miss Archer, watchful of Nattie's
smiling face.

Leaving the key open, Nattie explained, to Quimby's unconcealed
dissatisfaction; but Miss Archer was delighted.

"Oh! do introduce me! Can you any way?" she said.

Nattie nodded affirmatively, and taking hold of the key, wrote, "She is
as anxious as you are. So allow me to make you acquainted with Miss
Archer, a young lady with the prettiest black eyes I ever saw!"

"Is she an operator?" asked "C."

"Doesn't know a dot from a dash," Nattie answered him.

"Then tell her in plain language, that this is the happiest moment of my
life, and also that black eyes are my especial adoration!"

"What have you been telling him about me, you dreadful girl?" queried
Miss Archer, shaking her head remonstratingly when this was repeated t