By Mark Twain
Consider that a conversation by telephone—when you aresimply siting by and not taking any part in that conversation—is one of the solemnest curiosities of modern life. Yesterday Iwas writing a deep article on a sublime philosophical subjectwhile such a conversation was going on in the room. I noticethat one can always write best when somebody is talkingthrough a telephone close by. Well， the thing began in this way.
A member of our household came in and asked me to have ourhouse put into communication with Mr. Bagley’s downtown. Ihave observed， in many cities， that the sex always shrink fromcalling up the central office themselves. I don’t know why， butthey do. So I touched the bell， and this talk ensued：
CENTRAL OFFICE. （GRUFFY.） Hello！
I. Is it the Central Office？
C. O. Of course it is. What do you want？
I. Will you switch me on to the Bagleys， please？
C. O. All right. Just keep your ear to the telephone.
Then I heard K-LOOK， K-LOOK， K’LOOK—KLOOK-KLOOKKLOOK-LOOK-LOOK！ then a horrible “gritting” of teeth， andfinally a piping female voice： Y-e-s？ （RISING INFLECTION.） Didyou wish to speak to me？
Without answering， I handed the telephone to the applicant，and sat down. Then followed that queerest of all the queerthings in this world—a conversation with only one end of it.
You hear questions asked； you don’t hear the answer. Youhear invitations given； you hear no thanks in return. Youhave listening pauses of dead silence， followed by apparentlyirrelevant and unjustifiable exclamations of glad surprise orsorrow or dismay. You can’t make head or tail of the talk，because you never hear anything that the person at the otherend of the wire says. Well， I heard the following remarkableseries of observations， all from the one tongue， and allshouted—for you can’t ever persuade the sex to speak gentlyinto a telephone：
Yes？ Why， how did THAT happen？ （Pause）.
What did you say？ （Pause）.
Oh no， I don’t think it was. （Pause）.
NO！ Oh no， I didn’t mean THAT. I meant， put it in while it isstill boiling—or just before it COMES to a boil. （Pause）.
WHAT？ （Pause）.
I turned it over with a backstitch on the selvage edge. （Pause）.
Yes， I like that way， too； but I think it’s better to baste it onwith Valenciennes or bombazine， or something of that sort. Itgives it such an air—and attracts so much noise. （Pause）.
It’s forty-ninth Deuteronomy， sixty-forth to ninety-seventhinclusive. I think we ought all to read it often. （Pause）.
Perhaps so； I generally use a hair pin. （Pause）.
What did you say？ （ASIDE.） Children， do be quiet！ （Pause）.
OH！ B FLAT！ Dear me， I thought you said it was the cat！ （Pause）.
Since WHEN？ （Pause）.
Why， I never heard of it. （Pause）.
You astound me！ It seems utterly impossible！ （Pause）.
WHO did？ （Pause）.
Good-ness gracious！ （Pause）.
Well， what IS this world coming to？ Was it right in CHURCH？
（Pause）.
And was her MOTHER there？ （Pause）.
Why， Mrs. Bagley， I should have died of humiliation！ Whatdid they DO？ Long （Pause）.
I can’t be perfectly sure， because I haven’t the notes byme； but I think it goes something like this： te-rolly-loll-loll，loll lolly-loll-loll， O tolly-loll-loll-LEE-LY-LI-I-do！ And thenREPEAT， you know. （Pause）.
Yes， I think it IS very sweet—and very solemn and impressive，if you get the andantino and the pianissimo right. （Pause）.
Oh， gum-drops， gum-drops！ But I never allow them to eatstriped candy. And of course they can’t， till they get their teeth，anyway. （Pause）.
WHAT？ （Pause）.
Oh， not in the least—go right on. He’s here writing—it doesn’tbother HIM. （Pause）.
Very well， I’ll come if I can. （ASIDE.） Dear me， how it doestire a person’s arm to hold this thing up so long！ I wish she’d—（Pause）.
Oh no， not at all； I LIKE to talk—but I’m afraid I’m keepingyou from your affairs. （Pause）.
Visitors？ （Pause）.
No， we never use butter on them. （Pause）.
Yes， that is a very good way； but all the cook-books saythey are very unhealthy when they are out of season. And HEdoesn’t like them， anyway—especially canned. （Pause）.
Oh， I think that is too high for them； we have never paidover fifty cents a bunch. （Pause）.
MUST you go？ Well， GOOD-by. （Pause）.
Yes， I think so. GOOD-by. （Pause）.
Four o’clock， then—I’ll be ready. GOOD-by. （Pause）.
Thank you ever so much. GOOD-by. （Pause）.
Oh， not at all！—just as fresh—WHICH？ Oh， I’m glad to hearyou say that. GOOD-by. （Hangs up the telephone and says， “Oh，it DOES tire a person’s arm so！”）
A man delivers a single brutal “Good-by，” and that is the endof it. Not so with the gentle sex—I say it in their praise； theycannot abide abruptness.