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Updated: June 17, 2025
"The peculiar feature about the man with the 'telephone face' is, that he always believes the day will come when he will be able to get the right number and the right man without being told that the 'line's busy, 'party does not reply, or 'phone is out of order. He is like the man who always backs the wrong horse, the poet with an 'Ode to Spring, or the honest man seeking a political job, continually defeated, but ever dreaming of ultimate success.
Cousin Maria now lived in this house, and George Mason was coming to pay her a visit. His appearance was rather a surprise to her, but still she welcomed him. She was a good soul. Almost before he asked her how she was, he put the question to her: "What telegraph line's that?"
"Previous to the time I speak of, the Americans had beaten the Australians and Canadians, and were considered by their own friends invincible even to the extent of a couple of goals. The Canadians, by the aid of the Electric Express Line's fast steamers, had been able to leave Montreal in the morning and return in the evening from New York, defeated but not disgraced.
"Line's broken and I've got to leave you. You can use the bunks; my partner must sit up and watch the instrument when he comes back. You can tell him I've gone to look for the break." "Do you know where the break is?" the younger man asked. "I don't know," said Jim, putting on his fur cap and old skin coat. "It mayn't be far off and it may be some distance.
"Get back there!" cried a burly policeman. Joe resisted his shouldering. "I'm Mr. Blaine;... it's my loft burning. I'm looking for my men...." "Go to the morgue then," snapped the policeman. "A fire line's a fire line." Joe was pushed back, and as the crowd closed about him, a soft pressure of clothing, men and women, he became aware of the fact that he had lost his head.
"Insufferable!" murmured Cecil, hiding another yawn behind his gauntlet; "the Line's nothing half so bad as this; one day in a London mob beats a year's campaigning; what's charging a pah to charging an oyster-stall, or a parapet of fascines to a bristling row of umbrellas?"
"He's free of the line!" shouted Hiram, inwardly much relieved to think they had got rid of what to him was an alarming situation. "No, he's not," replied Tubby, bending over the line. "He's still fast to us. The line's as tight as a fiddle string." He was standing up as he spoke, and as the Flying Fish gave a sudden, crazy jerk forward, he was almost thrown overboard.
Apart from the new line's prime object that of providing an outlet for the system there was a goodly heritage of local business awaiting the first railroad to reach the untapped territory.
A sorrowful look came over the angular features of the gentleman in the check suit. 'It's like my luck, said he; 'there was a fellow over from Amsterdam the other day, but he'd only take girls. I think the Continental line's pretty nigh played out. He heaved a sigh and glanced in the direction of his empty glass.
"Turning out all the lights so he can murder us in our beds!" "Look!" David shouted, "the line's broken in our back yard!" They could hear the wailing of sirens now. Fire trucks, repair trucks, and police cars pulled up in front of the house. Everyone in the block turned out to see what had happened. It took the repair men an hour to untangle the wires and fix them.
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