I have invented a new telephone game. It is a thoroughly discreditable, anti-social game, and I am not proud of it, but it has been forced upon me by circumstances. It is now clear that my telephone number is the only one the operators know, and my game follows the lines of all the best modern movements, the principle of which is that, if you cannot hit the man you are annoyed with, you hit somebody else instead. Nowadays, when some perfect stranger is introduced to me in error on the telephone, I no longer murmur, “Wrong number, I’m afraid,” in my usual accents of sweet sympathy, cool resignation, irritation, hatred or black despair; I pretend that it is the _right_ number. I lead my fellow-victim on into a morass of mystification; I worm out his precious secrets; I waste his precious time. If you can square your conscience you will find it is a glorious game, though I ought to add that considerable skill is required. It is best, perhaps, to make a general rule of answering the call in the first instance in a high feminine voice, as much like a housemaid, or a charwoman, or a Government typist as possible; then you are prepared for any development. The following are some of the best matches I have played:---- I _Me._ Hullo! _A Voice._ Is that the Midland Railway? _Me._ Yes, Madam. Which department do you require? _A V._ It’s about some eggs. An egg-box was despatched from Hitchin---- _Me_ (_obsequious_). I will put you through to the Goods and Transit Department, Madam. _A V._ (_fervent_). Oh, _thank_ you! _Me_ (_after a short stroll round the garden--in a gruff railway-voice_). Hullo! Motor-vans and Haulage Department---- _A V._ Oh, it’s about some _eggs_. An egg-box---- _Me_ (_more in sorrow than in anger_). You require the Goods and Transit Department. I will put you through. _A V._ Oh, _thank_ you! _Me_ (_after planting a few more of those confounded cuttings--very suddenly_). The 4.45 to Bunby Major is suspended, Sir. _A V._ (_apologetic_). I want to speak about some eggs---- _Me_ (_horrified_). Some _legs_! _A V._ (_patient_). No, some _eggs_:--E--double G--S, eggs. An egg-box was despatched from Hitchin by a friend of mine on the 21st---- _Me_ (_sharply_). What name, Madam? _A V._ Major Bludyer. It was despatched on---- _Me._ Is he one of the Buckinghamshire Bludyers? _A V._ What? Hullo!... Hullo! It was despatched on---- _Me._ I mean, is he _the_ Major Bludyer--that well-grown old boy? From what I know of his eggs---- _A V._ (_growing fainter_). I can’t hear you very well. It’s about some eggs---- _Me._ Well, I’m very glad to have had this little talk. Remember me to old Bludyer. Good-bye. II _Me_ (_squeaky_). Hullo! _A Voice_ (_business-like, in a great hurry_). Hullo! Is that you, Mortimer? _Me_ (_very deliberate_). Mr. Mortimer is in the next room. If you will hold the line I will fetch him. Who is it speaking, please? _A V._ Oh, never mind that. _Me_ (_firm_). Who is it speaking, please?