Occasional mistakes are not to be wondered at when people write illegibly. Through the improper formation of the capital letter, D, in the proper name Dyster, has in telegraphing been turned into
O, and the name made Oyster, with the result of misdelivery of the telegram to a firm of fishmongers having "Oyster" as an abbreviated address. It must have been extremely painful to an anxious parent to receive a telegram summoning him to a nursing home far distant, in terms that his "sow was worse," and begging him to come at once; the telegraphist having made the slight mistake of transcribing "w" for "n." The gentleman who sent a telegram to his town house in the West End of London asking that his covert coat might be forwarded to him was no doubt considerably astonished when his butler returned the telegram to him by post asking for an explanation, and he found that the text of it was "Pigs, 9⁄3, 8⁄9, and 8/-." The error was occasioned in connection with the use of multiple addresses for a bacon-trading firm's telegrams. In another instance a curious complication resulted through imperfect spacing on the part of the signalling telegraphist, thus:—A telegram written by the sender as "To ----, Fore St., Northam, Bideford. Be in attendance Public Offices," was transcribed thus:—"To —— forest, Northam, Bideford. Be in at
ten dance Public Offices," and, owing to the number of words counting the same as the number signalled, the inaccuracy was not discovered until a repetition had been obtained from the office of origin on application of the addressee. It was printed in a Midland newspaper that at the presentation of a sword of honour to the Sirdar the Common Councilmen attended in their "margarine gowns," and, of course, the error of using "margarine" for "mazarine" was put down to the carelessness of the telegraph clerk. A telegram was sent indicating arrival at 8 Mostyn Crescent, in a favourite North Wales town. At one stage in transmission "Mostyn" became converted into "mostly," and at the next office of transmission "Crescent" became "pleasant," and the telegram when delivered read "Arrived 8 mostly pleasant." The Prime Minister who had informed his audience that "there was no prospect of an immediate general election, that they had a working majority, and the Government was of good cheer," would not have been pleased had he seen that the last word in the telegram posted up in the Bristol Commercial Rooms had been transcribed as "of good cheek."
A telegram, "Have arranged for Sunday. Dening," with the first two words struck out, and "arrangement complete" substituted underneath, was handed in at a telegraph office by a well-known and much respected Bristol clergyman. At the forwarding office the message was unfortunately read "For Sunday Dinning arrangement complete," the erasure and addition not having been properly understood and the proper name misspelt. At the delivering office the message again suffered alteration, and became "For Sunday dining arrangements complete." It may readily be supposed that the addressee was somewhat astonished at the peculiar text of the message.
The following is from the Bristol Times and Mirror of February, 1893, and has reference to a little inaccuracy on the part of a telegraph assistant employed at a Bristol sub-post office. The incident itself is correctly reported:—"Garraways, 12 o'clock. Dear Mrs. B.—Chops and tomato sauce. Yours Pickwick," settled the hash of a well-known character; and a wire, "Going to Bath to meet girl. Not back to dinner," had, very nearly, a similar effect on the domestic
relations of one of the smartest solicitors in our city. The telegraph has had, in its time, much to answer for, "but never aught like this." When Puck said: "I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes," he little thought what mischief he might do. It was only the other day we read how a stray dropped line destroyed a horse, killed a cow, and cut off the head of a nigger; but these accidents were a trifle compared with what might have happened if the message first quoted could not have been explained. The learned gentleman it appears has a brother, by name Gilbert, familiarly known in the circle as "Gil." The latter, having business in Bath, wrote asking his relative to dine with him at the "Christopher." The learned advocate at once accepted; but, being a thoroughly domesticated man, telegraphed to his better-half: "Going to Bath to meet Gil; not back to dinner." Then came in the "cussedness" of the wire which substituted "girl" for "Gil," and hence the temporary ructions when the happy husband, having succeeded with his latchkey, sought repose.