Vanity Fair

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 73, Issue 103, 3 May 1930, Page 3

Vanity Fair

“Chronicle” Office, Wanganui, May 3rd, 1930. Having nothing worse to do, Margot has been thinking deeply upon the subject of Wrong Numbers; her thoughts were not altogether without provocation. For al a £,/ ea / f an j dreary moment of yesterday morning, when, lying very snug and contented in bed and thinking how nice it Was not to have to get up for another hour, she suddenly heard the telephone ring. She let it ring three times, just for luck, and then arose, feeling that only the untimely demise of a millionaire uncle could warrant such annoyance. And immediately after she had lifted the receiver and growled, “Yes, hullo, what?" a voice replied, “Is that you, Florrie? Now, what do you think Cuthbert has done?” “1 hope,” said Margot, ungracefully, “that Cuthbert has fractured both legs and contracted chickenpox." And she replaced the receiver, only to discover that standing in a stockingless condition, and also in a draught, had provided her with one of those really becoming colds. There are times when wrong numbers can be seriously anti-climatic. Tal(e the following little tableau. A doctor, deeply perplexed, is sitting in company with his wealthiest client, Mr Era Abigail. The doctors problem is this. If he tells Mr Abigail that he must instantly give up porterhouse steaks, brown sherry, oysters, cigars, and high finance. M r Abigail will, after throwing the inkwell at him, either expire on the spot from apoplexy, or else stal/ ( out and forbid his entire tribe of relations to darken the doctor's doors again. On the other hand, if the doctor refrains from giving Mr Abigail these instructions, something vol; distressing is due to happen to Mr Abigail’s digestion before many moons have passed. What shall he do ? While he is meditating, the telephone rings. He grasps it joyfully. Probably the MacCarthy twins are down with smallpox, and he’ll have to go and take their temperatures at once By the time he gels back, he will have thought of some really neat policy en re Mr Abigail. But through the receiver a deep bass voice says emotionally “Ah, Gertrude," and it takes all the doctor’s professional sang froid to give back a hard word. " Wrong number," he barks, and turns back to n!ce( the entirely unattractive eye of his patient. There are other cases, most of them worse; and Margot is of opinion that now we can no longer blame Miss Exchange for our wrong numbers, the thing is even more provoking. Perily, the telephone must often run a grave risk of being used as the instrument of suicide, murder, or both. Reflectively. MARGOT.