n Tokyo."

A suburban housewife relates overhearing this conversation between her
Cape girl and the one next door:

"How are you, Katje?"

"I'm well; I like my yob. We got cremated cellar, cemetery plumbing,
elastic lights and a hoosit."

"What's a 'hoosit,' Katje?"

"Oh, a bell rings. You put a thing to your ear and say 'Hello,' and
then some one says 'Hello,' and you say 'Hoosit.'"

"There's a story in this paper of a woman that used a telephone for
the first time in eighty-three years."

"She must be on a party line."

The girl at the exchange, after you have waited fully ten minutes:

"They don't answer. What number was it you wanted?"

EXCITABLE PARTY (at telephone)--"Hello? Who is this? Who is this, I
say?"

MAN AT OTHER END--"Haven't got time to guess riddles. Tell me yourself
who you are."

"I believe," said the impatient man, as he put aside the telephone,
"that I'll go fishing."

"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. Pat shouted again, but received
no answer.

The lady of the post-office opened the door and told him to shout a
little louder, which he did, but still no answer.

Again she said he would have to speak louder.

Pat got angry at this, and turning to the lady said:

"Begorra, if I could shout a