SENDING A TELEGRAM.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3615, 12 February 1883, Page 4

SENDING A TELEGRAM.

(Burlington Ilawkeye.) It was just after a railroad accident I amused myself by watching my fellow-pas-sengers. Presently one man reached a long arm over the little crowd clustered round the telegraphist's window, and asked for a blank telegraphic form, explaining that he wished to send a telegraphic despatch to his family. Now, when a man speaks of a " telegraphic despatch," I always wake up and look at him, because the cumbersome title is too long-. The use of it betrays the man who has little use for the telegraph. The more a man uses the wire, the shorter his terms. The more nearly lie can come to saying "m's'g" the J'ntoreconteTit he is. And ho doesn't call it a telegraphic form, ho asks for a "blank." And he never " telegraphs " anybody, he "wires" them. Si. I -u-fiti-hc-cl tin's j-)as?/<?ivj-cr write I/is '-telegraphic despatch." Fir.it he asked the operator: '' What day of the month is this r" There was nothing unusual in that ; moil ask that. You may know what date it is before entering - the office, you may even have it impressed on your mind by having a bill fall due on that day, but the moment you poise the pencil over the blank, that date flies from your mind like the toothache from the dentist's stairway. The man was tall, with thick hair and a thin neck. His trousers were just about as much too short as his hair was too long - , and he wore a shawl. That settled him. He spoiled three blanks before he got a '•telegraphic despatch" written to suit him. But even that is not very uncommon. A man always uses stationery more extravagantly in another man's office than he does at home. Then he wrote every word in the body of the. despatch very carefully and distinctly, but scrambled hurriedly over the address as though evetybody knew that as well as he did, and dashed off his own signature in a blind-letter style, as though his name was as familiar to the operator as it was to his own family. But even this is not uncommon. A man will write "Cunningham" so that no expert under the sides can tell whether it was Covington, or Carrington, or Cummagen, or Carrenton, and when the operator points to it, and asks : "What is this r" the writer will stare at him in blank amazement for a moment, and then answer: " Why, that's my name ! " Then the itrtn will gasp for breath, and catch hold of the desk to keep himself from falling, and finally shout: "Why, Cunningham, of course ! " And look pityingly upon the operator, and then glance about the room with a pained shocked expression, as one who should say : " Gentlemen yon may not believe me, and 1 do not blame you, but heaven is my wit-ness-here is a man that docs not know that my name is Cunningham ! " Well my tall man with the thin neck handed the operator the following explicit message: — " Mrs Sarah K. Follinsbec , , Dallas Centre, lowa. "My dear wife—l. left the city early this morning after eating breakfast with Professor Morton, a live man in the temperance cause. 1 expected to cat dinner with you at home. But wo were delayed by a terrible railroad accident on the railroad, and I narrowly escaped being killed. One passenger was terribly mangled and has since died, but I. am all right The conductor says I cannot make connection so as to come to Dallas Centre this morning, but. I can get there by S o'clock this evening. I hate to disappoint you but 1 cannot help it. With love for mother and children, I am your loving husband. "Rooia: R. Foli.ixsbkk." The operator read it, smiled, and said: " You can save considerable expense, and tell all that is really necessary, I. presume, by shortening the message down to ten word*. We have no wire directly into Dallas, and will have to send this niessago part of the way over the line, which adds largely to the cost of transmission. Shall 1 shorten this for you 'r " " No, oh, no," the man with a shawl replied, " I'll iix it myself. Ten words you say r'' " Yes, sir." The tail man with the short pantaloons went back to the. desk with his message. At last, after much .scratching and erasinp, , and with many sighs, he came to the window and handed the operator the following- expunged edition of his original message :-- "Mrs Sarah K. Follinsbee.—My dear Wife.—l left the city—this morning- after eating—Professor Morton alive --cause 1 expected to eat --you at home. But we were delayed by a terrible railroad accident on the rail-road. I—being killed—terribly mangled, and since died: but 1 am—the conductor—l cannot--come to Dallas Centre—but J. can—l hate—mother and the children. Your loving husband, "Room R. For.LixsiuoK." The operator smiled once more, and in his quick nervous way that grows out of familiar association with lightning; made a few quick dashes with his pencil, and without adding or changing a letter in the original message, shrivelled it down to its very sinews, like this : — "Sarah ~K. Follinsbee, Dallas Centre. Iowa: Left city 'smoruing ; delayed by accident—all right—home '^evening." " Rooke R. FoLLixsru:!-:.' ••There, that's all right: , ' ho said, iv the cheery magnetic- way Ihe.se opevativr,havo. " Fifty cents, sir—only '2b cents, i£ we had our own wire into Dallas, sir. Wo" 11 have one, too, next spring. That's right, thank you." And the man with the tldn neck and thick hair went and sat down on a chair

by the stove, and stared at that operator until the rescuing train came along, as though he were a worker of miracles, and when he got off the train at the junction for Dallas 1 heard him whispering to himself : "Sarah Follinsbec—eolishiu 'smornir Ui nothing matter —home saftnoon." And I knew that he was practising his lesson, and had " caught on."

Proprietor.