Explore "The Voice of the Pussy-Willow" by Oliver Herford on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On the first of May I took a day off and used the telephone. It is best to take a day off if you want to get a number these times, and the number asked for was Spring one, nine, two, two-yes, Spring, Nineteen Twenty-Two. "There's no such number," said Central; "what you want is Winter 1921. " I assured her that was the last number in the world I desired, and after a wait of an hour or so she gave me Blizzard 1888 on a busy wire, comparing notes with Winter 1920, and I began to despair of ever getting my number.
I rang off and waited. I am a patient person, I waited a whole hour to allow the wire to cool off. Then I called again and this time I was rewarded by hearing at the other end of the wire a faint far-off, fuzzy, mewing sound.