operator quietly
seated, reading the newspaper, with his feet elevated on a chair or
table, the picture of repose. Suddenly up he jumps, down goes the paper,
he seizes a pencil, hurriedly writes a few words, frowns violently,
pounds frantically on the table, stares savagely at nothing, bursts
suddenly into a broad smile, and then quietly resumes his first
position. Wouldn't these seem like rather eccentric gambols to you, if
you didn't know their solution?"

"Ha! Doubtless," answered Nattie. "So I suppose I must forgive my
observers, and be more careful what I do in future. I have no doubt I
often make myself ridiculous to chance beholders, when I am talking with
you."

"I wonder if that is complimentary to me?" queried "C."

"Certainly, as it is because you make me laugh so much," Nattie replied.

"Then I am not such a disagreeable fellow as I might be?" demanded "C,"
evidently attempting to extort flattery.

But before Nattie could answer, some one else opened their key, and
said,

"Oh, yes you are!"

"That was not I," Nattie explained, as quickly as possible. "Some of
those unpleasant people that can't mind their own business. I was about
to say I should not know how to get through the days now, if I hadn't
you to talk with."

"Do you really mean it?" questioned "C," delightedly, it is reasonable
to suppose. "Truly, I was thinking only last night how unbearable would
have been the solitude of my office, had I not been blessed with your
company. I was lonesome enough before I knew you, but I never am now."

It was a pity that no telegraphic instrument had yet been invented that
could carry the blush on Nattie's cheeks for his eyes to see, because it
was so very becoming. She commenced a reply, expressing her pleasure,
but was unable to finish it, on account of that unknown and disagreeable
operator somewhere on the line, who kept breaking the circuit after
every letter she made. Nor was "C" allowed to write anything either.
This was a trick by which they had often been annoyed of late.

For, on the wire in the telegraphic world, as well as elsewhere, are
idle, mischief-making people, who cannot endure to see others enjoying
themselves, if they also have no share.

Thus, unable to talk farther at present with her indefatigable
conversationalist, Nattie took up a pencil and began entering the day's
business in her books, when a shadow darkened the doorway, and she
looked up to see Quimby.

Since the even