The Story of a Doctor's Telephone Part 7

"Very well."

Sometimes Mary wished her husband would be a little more explicit. She had a vague sort of feeling that central, or whoever should chance to hear him make this announcement to her so often, might think she requested or perhaps demanded it; might think she wanted to know every place her husband went.

In about half an hour the 'phone rang again, two rings.

John ought to be back. Should she take it for granted? It would be safer to put the receiver to her ear and listen for her husband's voice.

"h.e.l.lo."

"h.e.l.lo."

"Is this you Dr. Blank?"

"Looks like it."

"We want ye to come down to our house right away."

"Who is this?"

"W'y, this is Mrs. Peters."

"Mrs. Peters? Oh yes," said the doctor, recognizing the voice now.

"What's the matter down there, grandmother?"

"W'y--my little grandson, Johnny, was slidin' down hill on a board and got a splinter in his setter."

"He did, eh?"

"Yes, he did, and a big one, too."

"Well, I'll be down there right away. Have some boiled water."

Mary turned away from the telephone that it might not register her low laughter as she put the receiver in its place. The next instant she took it down again with twinkling eyes and listened. Yes, the voices were silent, it would be safe. She rang two rings.

"h.e.l.lo," said her husband's voice.

"John," said Mary, almost in a whisper, "for English free and unadorned, commend me to a little boy's grandmother!"

Two laughs met over the wire, then two receivers clicked.

One day Mary came in from a walk and noticed at once, a vacant place on the wall where the Farmers' 'phone had hung. She had heard rumors of a merger of the two systems and had fervently hoped that they might merge soon and forever.

"Look! Mamma," said Gertrude, pointing to the wall.

"Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

One telephone is taken away!"

she chortled in her joy.

(The small boy of the household had been reading "Alice" and consequently declaiming the Jabberwock from morning till night, till its weird strains had become fixed in the various minds of the household and notably in Gertrude's.)

"It will simplify matters," said her mother, smiling, "but liberty is not for us. _That_ tuneful peal will still ring on," and as she looked at the Citizens' 'phone the peal came.

CHAPTER III.

One Monday evening the doctor and his wife sat chatting cosily before the fire. In the midst of their conversation, Mary looked up suddenly.

"I had a queer little experience this morning, John, I want to tell you about it."

"Tell ahead," said John, propping his slippered feet up on the fender.

"Well, I got my pen and paper ready to write a letter to Mrs. E. I wanted to write it yesterday afternoon and tell her some little household incidents just while they were taking place, as she is fond of the doings and sayings of boys and they are more realistic if reported in the present tense. But I couldn't get at it yesterday afternoon. When I started to write it this morning it occurred to me to date the letter Sunday afternoon and write it just as I would have done yesterday--so I did. When I had got it half done or more I heard the door-bell and going to open it I saw through the large gla.s.s--"

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

The doctor went to the 'phone.

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Where do you live?"

"I'll be right down."

He went back, hastily removed his slippers and began putting on his shoes. Mary saw that he had clean forgotten her story. Very well. It wouldn't take more than a minute to finish it--there would be plenty of time while he was getting into his shoes--but if he was not enough interested to refer to it again she certainly would not. In a few minutes the doctor was gone and Mary went to bed. An hour or two later his voice broke in upon her slumber. "Back again," he said as he settled down upon his pillow. In a minute he exclaimed, "Say, Mary, what was the rest of that story?"

"O, don't get me roused up. I'm _so_ sleepy," she said drowsily.

"Well, I'd like to hear it." The interest in her little story which had not been exhibited at the proper time was being exhibited now with a vengeance. She sighed and said, "I can't think of it now--tell you in the morning. Good night," and turned away.

When morning came and they were both awake, the doctor again referred to the unfinished story.

"It's lost interest for me. It wasn't a story to start with, just a little incident that seemed odd--"

"Well, let's have it."

"Well, then," said Mary, "I was writing away when the door-bell rang. I went to open it and saw through the gla.s.s the laundry man--"

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

"Go on!" exclaimed her husband, hurriedly, "I'll wait till you finish."