Telephone Courtesy
"HELLO, Central. Give me two-o-two-eight, please."
"Is this two-o-two-eight?"
There was a sound of confusion at the other end of the wire as the telephone receiver clicked—a mixture of tortured piano and riot and rough house combined, out of which a harsh voice sounded.
"W-e-l-l?"
"This is Mr. Clark."
"Who?"
"Mr. Clark. I—"
"Well, what in the hell do you want? Shoot it out."
I finally succeeded in making my identity clear, and the voice softened perceptibly. What I really did want was to deliver a very important telegram to an undergraduate student.
There is little doubt that the telephone
