This book was transcribed from the 1880 edition by Andrew Katz.
WIRED LOVE:
A ROMANCE
OF
DOTS AND DASHES
BY
ELLA CHEEVER THAYER.
"The old, old story,"--in a new, new way.
DEDICATION.
DEDICATEDTOTHE MEMORYOF A DEARFRIEND BUT FOR WHOM THIS LITTLEWORK HAD NEVER BEEN
[Transcriber's Note. The dedication was printed in American Railroaddialect of Morse. It cannot easily be represented in ASCII as itrequires dashes of different lengths]
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. Sounds from a Distant "C." II. At the Hotel Norman III. Visible and Invisible Friends IV. Neighborly Calls V. Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence VI. Collapse of the Romance VII. "Good-By" VIII. The Feast IX. Unexpected Visitors X. The Broken Circuit Reunited XI. Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled XII. Crosses on the Line XIII. The Wrong Woman XIV. Quimby Accepts the Situation XV. One Summer Day XVI. O. K.
WIRED LOVE.
CHAPTER I.
SOUNDS FROM A DISTANT "C."
-... -- .-.. -.
Just a noise, that is all.
But a very significant noise to Miss Nathalie Rogers, or Nattie, as shewas usually abbreviated; a noise that caused her to lay aside her book,and jump up hastily, exclaiming, with a gesture of impatience:--
"Somebody always 'calls' me in the middle of every entertainingchapter!"
For that noise, that little clatter, like, and yet too irregular to bethe ticking of a clock, expressed to Nattie these four mystic letters:--
"B m--X n;"
which same four mystic letters, interpreted, meant that thename, or, to use the technical word, "call," of the telegraph officeover which she was present sole presiding genius, was "B m," and that "Bm" was wanted by another office on the wire, designated as "X n."
A little, out-of-the-way, country office, some fifty miles down theline, was "X n," and, as Nattie signaled in reply to the "call" herreadiness to receive any communications therefrom, she was conscious ofholding in some slight contempt the possible abilities of the humanportion of its machinery.
For who but an operator very green in the profession would stay _there_?
Consequently, she was quite unprepared for the velocity with which thetelegraph alphabet of sounds in dots and dashes rattled over theinstrument, appropriately termed a "sounder," upon which messages arereceived, and found herself wholly unable to write down the words asfast as they came.
"Dear me!" she thought, rather nervously, "the country is certainlyahead of the city this time! I wonder if this smart operator is a ladyor gentleman!"
And, notwithstanding all her efforts, she was compelled to "break"--thatis, open her "key," thereby breaking the circuit, and interrupting "X n"with the request,
"Please repeat."
"X n" took the interruption very good-naturedly--it was afterdinner--and obeyed without expressing any impatience.
But, alas! Nattie was even now unable to keep up with this too expertindividual of uncertain sex, and was obliged again to "break," with thehumiliating petition,
"Please send slower!"
"Oh!" responded "X n."
For a small one, "Oh!" is a very expressive word. But whether thisparticular one signified impatience, or, as Nattie sensitively feared,contempt for her abilities, she could not tell. But certain it was that"X n" sent along the letters now, in such a slow, funereal processionthat she was driven half frantic with nervousness in the attempt topiece them together into words. They had not proceeded far, however,before a small, thin voice fell upon the ears of the agitated Nattie.
"Are you taking a message now?" it asked.
Nattie glanced over her shoulder, and saw a sharp, inquisitive nose, agreen veil, a pair of eye-glasses, and a strained smile, stickingthrough her little window.
Nodding a hasty answer to the question, she wrote down another word ofthe message, that she had been able to catch, notwithstanding theinterruption. As she did so the voice again queried,
"Do you take them entirely by sound?"
With a determined endeavor not to "break," Nattie replied only with afrown. But fate was evidently against her establishing a reputation forbeing a good operator with "X n."
"Here, please attend to this quick!" exclaimed a new voice, and a tallgentleman pounded impatiently on the shelf outside the little windowwith one hand, and with the other held forth a message.
With despair in her heart, once more Nattie interrupted "X n," took theimpatient gentleman's message, studied out its illegible characters, andchanged a bill, the owner of the nose looking on attentively meanwhile;this done, she bade the really much-abused "X n" to proceed, or intelegraphic terms, to
"G. A.--the."
"G. A." being the telegraphic abbreviation for "go ahead," and "the" thelast word she had received of the message.
And this time not even the fact of its being after dinner restrained "Xn's" feelings, and "X n" made the sarcastic inquiry,
"Had you not better go home and send down some one who is capable ofreceiving this message?"
Now it would seem as if two persons sixty or seventy miles apart mightseverally fly into a rage and nurse their wrath comfortably withoutparticularly annoying each other at the moment. But not under presentconditions; and Nattie turned red and bit her nails excitedly under thedispleasure of the distant person of unknown sex, at "X n." But noinstrument had yet been invented by which she could see the expressionon the face of this operator at "X n," as she retorted, and her fingersformed the letters very sharply;
"Do you think it will help the matter at all for you to make a displayof your charming disposition? G. A.--the--."
"I am happy to be able to return the compliment implied!" was "X n's"preface to the continuation of the message.
And now indeed Nattie might have recovered some of her fallen glories,being angry enough to be fiercely determined, had not the owner of thenose again made her presence manifest by the sudden question:
"Do you have a different sound for every word, or syllable, or what?"
And, turning quickly around to scowl this persevering questioner intosilence, Nattie's elbow hit and knocked over the inkstand, its contentspouring over her hands, dress, the desk and floor, and proving beyond adoubt, as it descended, the truth of its label--
"Superior Black Ink!"
And then, save for the clatter of the "sounder," there was silence.
For a moment Nattie gazed blankly at her besmeared hands and ruineddress, at the "sounder," and at the owner of the nose, who returned herlook with that expression of serene amusement often noticeable in thosewho contemplate from afar the mishaps of their fellow beings; then withthe courage of despair, she for the fourth time "broke" "X n," saying,with inky impression on the instrument,
"Excuse me, but you will have to wait! I am all ink, and I am beingcross-examined!"
Having thus delivered herself, she turned a deliberately deaf ear to "Xn's" response, which, judging from the way the movable portion of the"sounder" danced, was emphatic.
"A little new milk will take that out!" complacently said the owner ofthe nose, watching Nattie's efforts to remove the ink from her dresswith blotting-paper.
"Unfortunately I do not keep a cow here!" Nattie replied, tartly.
Not quite polite in Nattie, this. But do not the circumstances pleadstrongly in her excuse? For, remember, she was not one of thoseimpossible, angelic young ladies of whom we read, but one of theordinary human beings we meet every day.
The owner of the nose, however, was not charitable, and drew herself uploftily, as she said in imperative accents,
"You did not answer my question! Do you have to learn the sound of eachletter so as to d
istinguish them from each other?"
Nattie constrained herself to reply, very shortly,
"Yes!"
"Can you take a message and talk to me at the same time?" pursued theinvestigator.
"No!" was Nattie's emphatic answer, as she looked ruefully at her dress.
"But your instrument there is going it now. Ain't they sending you amessage?" went on the relentless owner of the nose.
At this Nattie turned her attention a moment to what was being done "onthe wire," and breathed a sigh of relief. For "X n" had given place toanother office and she replied,
"No! Some office on the wire is sending to some other office."
The nose elevated itself in surprise.
"Can you hear everything that is sent from every other office?"
"Yes," was the weary reply, as Nattie rubbed her dress.
"What!" exclaimed the owner of the nose, in accents of incredulouswonder. "All over the world?"
"Certainly not! only the offices on this wire; there are about twenty,"was the impatient reply.
"Ah!" evidently relieved. "But," considering, "supposing you do notcatch all the sounds, what do you do then?"
"Break."
"Break! Break what? The instruments?" queried the owner of the nose,perplexedly, and looking as if that must be a very expensive habit.
"Break the circuit--the connection,--open the key and ask the sendingoffice to repeat from the last word I have been able to catch!"
Then seeing unmistakable evidence of more questions in the nose, Nattiethrew the ink-soaked blotting-paper and her last remnant of patienceinto the waste basket, and added,
"But you must excuse me, I am too busy to be annoy--interrupted longer,and there are books that will give you all the information that yourequire!"
So saying, Nattie turned her back, and the owner of the nose withdrewit, its tip glistening with indignation as she walked away. As itvanished, Nattie gave a sigh of relief, and sat down to mourn her ruineddress. Whatever may have been her previous opinion, she was positive nowthat this was the prettiest, the most becoming dress she had everpossessed, or might ever possess! Only the old, old story! We prize mostwhat is gone forever!
"And all that dreadful man's--or woman's--fault at X n!" cried Nattie,savagely. Unjustly too, for if any one was responsible for the accident,it was the owner of the nose.
But not long did Nattie dare give way to her misery. That fatal messagewas not yet received.
Glancing over the few words she had of it, she read; "Send the hearse,"and then she began anxiously "calling" "X n."
"Hearse," looked too serious for trifling. But either "X n's"attention was now occupied in some other direction, or else he--orshe--was too much out of humor to reply, for it was full twenty minutesbefore came the answering,
"X n."
At which Nattie said as fiercely as fingers could, "I have been afteryou nearly half an hour!"
"Have you?" came coolly back from "X n." "Well, you're not alone, manyare after me--my landlord among others--not to mention a washerwoman ortwo!"
Then followed the figure "4," which means, "When shall I go ahead?"
"Waxing jocose, are you?" Nattie murmured to herself, as she replied:
"G. A.--hearse--"
"G. A.--_what?_"
"Hearse," repeated Nattie, in firm, clear characters.
To her surprise and displeasure "X n" laughed--the circumstance beingconveyed to her understanding in the usual way, by the two letters "Ha!"
"What are you laughing at?" she asked.
"At your grave mistake!" was "X n's" answer, accompanied by another "Ha!To convert a _horse_ into a hearse is really an idea that merits a smile!"
As the consciousness of her blunder dawned upon her, Nattie would gladlyhave sank into oblivion. But as that was impossible, she took a freshblank, and very meekly said,
"G. A.--horse--!"
With another laugh, "X n" complied, and Nattie now succeeded inreceiving the message without further mishap.
"What did you sign?" she asked, as she thankfully wrote the last word.Every operator is obliged to sign his own private "call," as well as theoffice "call," and "O. K." at the close of each message.
"C." was replied to Nattie's question.
"O. K. N. B m," she then said, and added, perhaps trying to drown thememory of her ludicrous error in politeness, "I hope another time Ishall not cause you so much trouble."
"C" at "X n" was evidently not to be exceeded in little speeches ofthis kind, for he--or she--responded immediately,
"On the contrary, it was I who gave you trouble. I know I must certainlyhave done so, or you never could have effected such a transformation asyou did. Imagine the feelings of the sender of that message, had hefound a hearse awaiting his arrival instead of a horse!"
Biting her lip with secret mortification, but determined to make thebest of the matter outwardly, Nattie replied,
"I suppose I never shall hear the last of that hearse! But at all eventsit took the surliness out of you."
"Yes, when people come to a hearse they are not apt to have any morekinks in their disposition! I confess, though," "C" went on frankly, "Iwas unpardonably cross; not surly, that is out of my line, but cross. Intruth, I was all out of sorts. Will you forgive me if I will never do soagain?"
"Certainly," Nattie replied readily. "I am sure we are far enough apartto get on without quarreling, if, as they say, distance lendsenchantment!"
"Particularly when I pride myself upon my sweet disposition!" said "C."
At which Nattie smiled to herself, to the surprise of a passinggentleman, on whom her unconscious gaze rested, and who thought, ofcourse, that she was smiling at him.
Appearances are deceitful!
"I fear you will have to prove your sweetness before I shall believe init," Nattie responded to "C," all unaware of what she had done, or thatthe strange young gentleman went on his way with the firm resolve topass by that office again and obtain another smile!
"It shall be my sole aim hereafter," "C" replied; and then asked, "Haveyou a pleasant office there?"
"I regret to say no." Then looking around, and describing what shesaw--"a long, dark little room, into which the sun never shines, a crazyand a wooden chair, a high stool, desk, instruments--that is all--Oh!And me!"
"Last but not least," said "C;" "but what a contrast to my office! Mineis all windows, and in cold days like this the wind whistles in until myvery bones rattle! The outward view is fine. As I sit I see a stable, acarpenter's shop, the roof of the new Town Hall that has ruined thetown, and--"
"Excuse me,"--some one at another office on the line here broke in--andwith more politeness than is sometimes shown in interruptingconversations on the wire--"I have a message to send," and forthwithbegan calling.
At this Nattie resumed her interrupted occupation of bewailing herspoiled dress, but at the same time she had a feeling of pleasedsurprise at the affability of "C" at "X n."
"I wonder," she thought, as she took up her book again, and tried tobury the remembrance of her accident therein, "I do wonder if this 'C'is _he_ or _she!_"
Soon, however, she heard "X n" "call" once more, and this time she laidher book aside very readily.
"You did not describe the principal part of your office--yourself!" "C"said, when she answered the "call."
"How can I describe myself?" replied Nattie. "How can anyone--properly?One sees that same old face in the glass day after day, and becomes soused to it that it is almost impossible to notice even the changes init; so I am sure I do not see how one can tell how it really doeslook--unless one's nose is broken--or one's eyes crossed--and mine arenot--or one should not see a looking-glass for a year! I can only say Iam very inky just now!"
"Oh! that is too bad!" "C" said; then, with a laugh, "It has always beena source of great wonder to me how certain very plain people of myacquaintance could possibly think themselves handsome. But I see it allnow! Can you not, however, leave the beauty out, and give
me some sortof an idea-about yourself for my imagination to work upon?"
"Certainly!" replied Nattie, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye that"C" knew not of. "Imagine, if you please, a tall young man, with--"
"C" "broke" quickly, saying,
"Oh, no! You cannot deceive me in that way! Under protest I accept theheight, but spurn the sex!"
"Why, you do not suppose I am a lady, do you?" queried Nattie.
"I am quite positive you are. There is a certain difference in the'sending,' of a lady and gentleman, that I have learned to distinguish.Can you truly say I am wrong?"
Nattie evaded a direct reply, by saying,
"People who think they know so much are often deceived; now I make nosurmises about you, but ask, fairly and squarely, shall I call you Mr.,Miss, or Mrs. 'C'?"
"Call me neither. Call me plain 'C', or picture, if you like, in placeof your sounder, a blonde, fairy-like girl talking to you, with pensivecheeks and sunny--"
"Don't you believe a word of it!"--some one on the wire here broke in,wishing, probably, to have a finger in the pie; "picture a hippopotamus,an elephant, but picture no fairy!"
"Judge not others by yourself, and learn to speak when spoken to!" "C"replied to the unknown; then "To N.--You know the more mystery there isabout anything, the more interesting it becomes. Therefore, if I envelopmyself in all the mystery possible, I will cherish hopes that you maydream of me!"
"But I am quite sure you can, with propriety be called _Mr._ 'C '--plain,as you say, I doubt not," replied Nattie. "Now, as it is time for me togo home, I shall have to say good-night."
"To be continued in our next?" queried "C."
"If you are not in a cross mood," replied Nattie.
"Now that is a very unkind suggestion, after my abject apology. But,although our acquaintance had a _grave re-hearse_-al, I trust it will havea happy ending!"
Nattie frowned.
"If you will promise never to say '_grave_,' '_hearse,_' or anything in theundertaking line, I will agree never to say 'cross!'" she said.
"The _undertaking_ will not be difficult; with all my heart!" "C"answered, and with this mutual understanding they bade each other"good-night."
"There certainly is something romantic in talking to a mysteriousperson, unseen, and miles away!" thought Nattie, as she put on her hat."But I would really like to know whether my new friend employs a tailoror a dressmaker!".
Was Nattie conscious of a feeling that it would add to the zest of theromantic acquaintance should the distant "C" be entitled to the use ofthe masculine pronoun?
Perhaps so! For Nattie was human, and was only nineteen!
Wired Love Page 1
