Nattie colored a little, and answered hastily:
"Oh! it's only fun, you know;" at which Quimby brightened, and Miss
Archer inquired gayly,
"Pour passer le temps?"
Nattie nodded in reply, as she took a message from a lady, who had only a few words to send, but found it necessary to ask about fifteen questions, and relate all her recent family history, concluding with the birth of twins, before being satisfied her message would go all right,—a proceeding that made Quimby stare, and afforded Miss Archer much amusement.
"Oh! that is nothing!" Nattie said, in answer to the latter's significant laugh, when the customer had retired. "Some very ludicrous incidents occur almost daily, I assure you. Truly, the ignorance of people in regard to telegraphy is surprising; aggravating too, sometimes. Just imagine a person thinking a telegraph office is managed on the same principle as those stores where they at first charge double the value of the goods, for the sake of giving people the pleasure of beating them down! It was only yesterday that a woman tried to coax me to take off ten cents, and then snarled at me because I wouldn't, and declared she would patronize some other office next time, as if it mattered to me, except to wish she might! And there was some one calling on the wire with a rush message all the time she was detaining me!"
"They think you ought to be harnessed with a punch, like a horse-car conductor," said Miss Archer, laughing, and added,
"I wish I knew how to telegraph, I would have a chat with your 'C.' I am getting very much interested in him!"
Quimby twirled his hat uneasily.
"But—I beg pardon, but he may be a soiled invisible, you know!" he hinted, seemingly determined to keep this possibility uppermost.
Before Nattie could again defend her "C" a woman, covered with cheap finery, thrust her head into the window.