The Typist and the Phone.
The ear of the prettiest typist was at the telephone when' the office manager bustled in the other morning, and as the door was ajar he heard her message. It ran thus : "Come to me, darling. Why do I love you so? Tou are mine, not for a day, but for ever."
The manager marvelled at the girl's carelessness in leaving the door open, and gasped at her audacity in introducing such love-sick sentiments into a business atmosphere. When she emerged he confronted her. "Miss Tulip," he said, "that telephone was installed, at the expense of the firm, for business purposes only, not for love-making."
"Love-making !" replied the damsel, with forced dignity ; " I don't quite understand what you mean. I was ordering the songs you said you wanted for your wife."
That pretty typist now carries herself in the office with a serene dignity which the manager admits is her right.
The Typist and the Phone.
Otago Witness, Issue 2674, 14 June 1905, Page 79
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