The doctor h.e.l.loed gruffly.

"Is this you, Doc?"

"Looks like it."

"We want ye to come down here an' diagnosis these cases."

"_What_ cases!"

"There's two down here."

"Down _where_?"

"Down here at my house."

"Well, who the devil _are_ you?"

"Bill Masters. We're afraid maybe it's smallpox."

"Yes, _yes_!" snarled the doctor, "every _pimple_ around here for the next three months will be smallpox."

"Well, we want ye to diagnosis it, Doc."

"All right. I'll 'diagnosis' it the first time I'm down that way--maybe this evening or tomorrow," and he slammed the receiver up and went to bed.

One evening the doctor was waiting for the stork at a farmhouse some miles from home. He concluded to telephone his wife as it might be several hours before he got in. He rang and put the receiver to his ear:

"Did you put your washin' out today?"

"No, did you?"

"No, I thought it looked too rainy."

"So did I. I hope it'll clear up by mornin'."

"Have you got your baby to sleep yet?"

"Land! yes. He goes to sleep right after supper."

"Mine's not that kind of a kid. He's wider awake than any of us this minute."

"Got your dress cut out?"

"No, maybe I'll git around to it tomorrow afternoon, if I don't have forty other things to do."

"Did ye hear about--"

Seeing no chance to get in the doctor retreated. Half an hour later he rang again. A giggle and a loud girlish voice in his ear asking, "Is this you, Nettie?"

"This is me."

"Do you know who this is?"

"Course I do."

"Bet ye don't."

"Bet I do."

"Who?"

"It's Mollie, of course."

"You've guessed it. I tried to change my voice so you wouldn't know me."

"What fer?"

"Oh, cat-fur to make kitten breeches."

Mild laughter.

"I heard that you gave Jake the mitten last night."

"Who told ye?"

"Oh, a little bird."

"Say! Who _did_ tell ye?"

"You'll never, never tell if I do?"

The clock near the patiently waiting doctor struck nine quick short strokes.

"Did you hear that?" asked the first voice, startled.

"Whose clock _is_ that?"

"Johnson's haven't got one like that."

"Miller's haven't neither."

"I'll tell you--it's Gray's--their clock strikes quick like that."

"Then there's somebody at their 'phone listenin'!"

"Goodness! Maybe it's Jake, just like him!"