THE WRONG NUMBER.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 46, 23 February 1929, Page 3

THE WRONG NUMBER.

Ting-a-ling-a-ling. I hurried to answer the 'j-hoiio. •'•HtPflo! Jlull i! Mrs. Jones speaking,'' was shouted into my ear. "Mrs. Jones!"' I said in surprise. I didn't remember a Mrs. Jones. "Ves, Mrs. Jones here," said the voice, "you know very well who I am. The idea of your sending me a thing like that! Did you call that a fowl': Just a bundle of skin and buties, I call it; and me with visitors io dinner. I never heard of such a thing." "But—l began. "You needn't 'but' me." snapped Mrs. Jones. "I'll have none of your excuses, Mr. Thompson, so you needn't make any. It's the last fowl you'll sell me. anyway, and I'll tell my neighbours not to patronise vou. too. It's outrageous! 'Fowl' I called it, excuse my mistake (scathingly) —ba;: of bones 1 meant." ''But, Mrs. Jones," as she paused for breath. "Didn't I tell you I want no excuses?" she went on. "Dear me, what will ray visitors think of me. I should demand in}' money back really. Xo one else would be frauded like that. I'm too soft.. I never tell tradespeople what I think of them, but 1 will not be cheated in future, Mr. Thompson. Kemember that, my man." She paused once again. "I'm afraid you're on the wrong number, Mrs. Jones," I cut in sweetly. "This is a private residence." "Oh!" gasped ill's. Jones. ''Oil!" Click went the receiver as she put it down, and T sank on to the nearest chair after that exciting three minutes with the

"suit" Mr.-. Jones. Mr. Thompson had my deepest sympathy at that moment.