“Mamma’s house: halloo! halloo!
Mama lives at Rocking Chair.
That you, mamma? Stay right there!
I’ve a message all for you.”
Mamma answers, far away,
With a big spool at her ear:
“All right, baby! I can hear:
What would Midget like to say?”
“Mamma, are you truly, true,
Hearing every single thing,—
What I think, and say, and sing,—
As if I were close to you?”
“Yes, I hear, my little one.
Every word’s so plain and clear
I might almost think you here,
Speaking with no telephone!”
Well, you please to tell the doctor
Dolly has the stomach-ache;
Wants some peppermints to take
All the day I’ve sat and rocked her.
“And please, mama, I love you!”
“All right, baby, here is one
Doctor sends by telephone.
And a kiss for Midget, too.”
“Thank you, mamma; now I’ll try
To get Seventy-One-Two-Nine.—
Aunty’s house,—to talk with mine;
All through, mamma dear! Good-by.”
Telephoning