tronize some other office next time, as if it
mattered to me, except to wish she might! And there was some one calling
on the wire with a rush message all the time she was detaining me!"

"They think you ought to be harnessed with a punch, like a horse-car
conductor," said Miss Archer, laughing, and added,

"I wish I knew how to telegraph, I would have a chat with your 'C.' I am
getting very much interested in him!"

Quimby twirled his hat uneasily.

"But--I beg pardon, but he may be a soiled invisible, you know!" he
hinted, seemingly determined to keep this possibility uppermost.

Before Nattie could again defend her "C" a woman, covered with cheap
finery, thrust her head into the window.

"How much does it cost to telegram?" she asked.

"To what place did you wish to send?" Nattie inquired.

With a look, as if she considered this a very impertinent question, the
woman replied, with a slight toss of her head,

"It's no matter about the place, I only want to know what it costs to
telegram!"

"That depends entirely on where the message is going," answered Nattie,
with a glance at Miss Archer.

"Oh, does it?" said the woman, looking surprised. "Well, to Chicago,
then."

Nattie told her the tariff to that city.

"Is that the cheapest?" she then asked. "I only want to send a few
words, about six."

"The price is the same for one or ten words," said Nattie rather
impatiently.

The woman gave another surprised stare.

"That's strange!" she said incredulously. "Well"--moving away--"I'll
write then; I am not going to pay for ten words when I want to send
six."

"That is a specimen of the ignorance you were just speaking of, I
presume," laughed Miss Archer, as soon as the would-be sender was out of
hearing.

"Yes," replied Nattie, "it's hard to make them believe sometimes that
everything less than ten words is a stated price, and that we only
charge per word after that number. And, speaking of ignorance, do you
know I once actually had a letter brought me, all sealed, to be sent
that way by telegraph."

Miss Archer laughed again, and Quimby inquired,

"I--I beg pardon, but did I understand that the last came within your
experience?"

"Yes," Nattie replied, "and I had a young woman come in here once, who
asked me to write the message for her, and after I had done so, in a
somewhat hasty scrawl, she took it, looked it all over critically,
dotted some 'i's,' and crossed some 't's,' I all the time starin