Some Handy Hints for the Telephone-User

Revealing a Few of the Hitherto Unexplored Possibilities in Rubber Bands, Blotters and Paper-Clips

COREY FORD

Associate Editor of "Practical Mechanics"

WHO has not sat before his telephone, hour after hour, waiting for the operator to connect him with the right number? Maybe it would be better if I didn't make the start" of this article quite so general.

Who has not sat before his telephone, hour after hour, staring at the vast array of office equipment that is spread before his eyes? Whose glance has not wandered idly over the apparently useless display of accessories which ornament his glass-top desk? Before him, for example, is a round bowl filled to the brim with shiny new paper-clips. To the right is a box of soft elastic-bands. To the left is a saucer of thumb-tacks, or a dish of brass fasteners. In the center of the desk is a big ink-well, filled with ink, and a stubby pen. Under his very fingers is a clean expanse of nice white blotter.

Yet what telephone-sitter, gazing blankly at these familiar details, has realized the tremendous possibilities which they present for improving the weary hours while he is waiting for Central to exhaust all the other possibilities along the switchboard. (It is estimated by statistical experts that if all the wrong numbers in New York were delivered in succession to one subscriber in a single morning, it would be nothing unusual.) Who has realized that in that simple bowl of paperclips are the materials for an intriguing and profitable half-hour, to be spent twisting these embryo playthings into original designs with the fingers of one hand while the other still grasps the telephone? Who recognizes in that virgin expanse of white blotter a fresh canvas for the exploring pen or thumb-tack? Who has perfected the sling-shot possibilities in an ordinary ink-eraser and a rubber-band?

IT is in an effort to awake the novice to the vast world of opportunity that lies within easy reach of his telephone, and reveal to him a few of the infinite designs which patience and ingenuity can accomplish, that I have prepared the following scientific article. By studying these instructions carefully, and practising them for an hour or so during each telephone call, the business-man will soon master, for example, the art of Paper-Clip Twisting, and no doubt improve in time upon the simple and fundamental examples which I have offered here. Once he has acquired the knack, he may hang up the receiver of his telephone at the end of a day and gaze proudly for a moment at the magnificent collection of original designs which he has devised with his own skillful fingers, ere he sweeps them all affectionately into the waste-basket and goes out to deliver his telephone-message in person.

For the benefit of the novice, I have grouped these sources of office entertainment into three general classifications: Paper-Clips; Blotters; and Elastic Bands. A fourth source .of office entertainment, Stenographers, will be treated in a subsequent article.

Doubtless the most familiar design which can be made with paper-clips is the Paper-Clip Chain (Figure 1). It must not be supposed, however, that this figure is as simple as it appears. In the first place, the pupil must make sure that all his clips face in the same direction. This can be accomplished by pointing them head-on at each other— i.e., with the wider end of one facing the wider end of the other—and by an involved law of physics of which nothing is known save that it is called Faraday's Law, and that Faraday himself never understood it either, they will eventually link up both facing forward, like the wheels of a bicycle.

In the second place, the careless amateur may be inclined to force one paper-clip down inside the thingumajig of the other paper-clip and halt at the first turn, thus presenting an insecure and bungling job which can be untangled readily by any assistant who later comes to clean up the desk. By a little patience and perseverance, however, the student will soon learn to lead one paper-clip all the way around the curve of the other paper-clip and force it down inside the second thingumajig, thus linking the two clips securely together in a manner that is guaranteed to baffle the most skillful.

Chains of this sort may be of any length, depending largely on the duration of the telephone call and the number of paper-clips in the round bowl. They may be draped around the desk from the telephone to the inkwell, thence across the room to the door, over to

the picture of the Grand Rapids plant, out one window, in the other, and back to the desk again; or else they may simply be gathered all together and placed back again in the bowl, still linked, as a little surprise for the next person who grabs up one of them in a hurry to clip some important papers together.

The next step beyond this design is known as the Running Mouse (Figure 2), doubtless owing to some real or fancied resemblance to the household rodent of that name. Grasping the paper-clip firmly between the thumb and middle-finger, the pupil should insert the nail of the forefinger in the space between the exposed end of the wire and the curve of the clip, and by gently forcing this wire outward he will gradually bend it all the way back until it has straightened out behind the clip in the imaginary "tail" of the "mouse". By taking the shorter end of the wire, in turn, and bending it out slightly, the energetic pupil will get a Figure Four. By bending it still further back until it is entirely straightened out, he will get a pretty good pipe-cleaner.

FROM this figure it is but a step to the formation of Pretzels (Figure 3), a series of fascinating designs whose possibilities are only limited by the ingenuity of the student himself. During the extent of an ordinary telephone call an energetic pupil may often manufacture anywhere from one to two dozen Pretzels, provided he uses his teeth now and then for added leverage; and once, while waiting for a long-distance telephone call, a local artist perfected a complicated design which not only exceeded all other efforts in the number of twists and curves in its structure, but which was exhibited at the Anderson Galleries under the title Whither? and later bought by the city of Des Moines as a design for their new War Memorial.

On the other hand, the long distance telephone call was never completed.

I should like to suggest, as a concluding design, the interesting and novel Pair of Spectacles (Figure 4), which can be fashioned with patience and perseverance by observing carefully the following instructions. In the first place, the clip should be straightened out, as in the Running Mouse, and the length of wire bent once in the middle, forming a huge inverted letter "U". By grasping the central part of this "U" in one hand, and seizing the further tip of the wire in the other (thus forcing the pupil to lay the telephone receiver down on the desk for a moment, during which precise moment Central will deliver the right number for the first and only time that morning, and retire sulking for the rest of the day when she gets no answer), the student will now bend this tip outward, upward, over, and down in a more or less perfect circle, forming the imaginary left pane of the Pair of Spectacles. By grasping the central part of the "U" in turn with the other hand, the pupil will next bend the other tip in a similar circle. All that remains now is to take this wire frame to a reputable oculist, who will fit it with glasses for a nominal fee; and as a result the pupil will not only be the proud possessor of a handsome Pair of Spectacles, which he fashioned himself during his spare moments at the telephone and through which he can see almost as well as with the naked eye, but he will also be out one perfectly good paper-clip.

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The field of Blotter Art likewise offers unlimited possibilities to the Telephone Sitter; and in this brief space I can only hint at the fascinating variety of designs that awaits his exploring pencil. A white desk-blotter or memorandum pad offers the simplest facilities for the development of this art; but rare and elaborate designs have also been executed on engagement pads, telephone books, or (particularly in the case of a coinbox telephone) the adjacent wall.

Probably the most important thing in the development of this art is for the pupil to put himself in the proper frame of mind. The necessary state of careless detachment can be secured best if the pupil will rest his head gently upon the telephone receiver, with a glazed look in his eye, and let his pencil wander fancy-free over the white expanse of blotter before him, only rousing himself occasionally to murmur into the mouthpiece in a dead, discouraged voice, "You just cut me off again, Central" or "Are you sure you're ringing the right number?" or "But somebody must be home, operator, it's the Plaza Hotel."

It is in such peaceful moments that the untrammejed imagination is apt to result in an inspired and beautifully executed series of curlicues, achieved without any apparent effort. Perhaps it will evolve a perfect labyrinth, wheels, fans, a girl's head or even telephone number, concentric circles, or the addresses of several better bootleggers.

In addition to these orthodox patterns, however, there is a more complicated form of Blotter Art in which the design merely elaborates or enlarges upon some original basic idea, such as a blot, or one of the more open letters of the alphabet. The enlargement of a blot gives perhaps the greater leeway; and in Figure 5, Man With Two Black Eyes, and Gravy Spots on His Vest, Eating a Banana, we note how three or four apparently unrelated blemishes on a blotter have been coordinated and adapted by the artist to form a rational and pleasing whole. The novel conception of using two blots as gravy stains, moreover, adds a piquant touch that lifts the whole creation above the common level of houses with smoking chimneys, girls' heads, fruit pieces and the like.

The letters of the alphabet, such as are found on a printed memorandum, a newspaper, or desk calendar, offer the artist a distinct challenge, although his best effects are necessarily limited to the rounder letters, such as 0, U, C, and Q. Q is particularly adapted to animal life, such as a cat on the back-fence, owing to its convenient tail. I is more or less a wash-out, no matter how you look at it. D, P, and R are better suited to profiles; and B will come in very handy as the basis for a full-length side view of Senator Borah. 0, on the other hand, can be made easily into a voluptuous girl's head by the simple addition of curls, cupid's-bow lips, and a pair of dots for eyes, surrounded by a series of spokes radiating out from these dots to symbolize lashes. By adding another 0 beneath this one, the artist will be able to enlarge his conception into a fairly presentable bust. Three or four more O's, in fact, and he will have the whole girl.

So much for blotters; and now we arrive at the last division of office entertainment, and no doubt the most pleasing of all—the Catapult (Figure 6.) Although the precise purpose of this contraption is a little vague, the pupil will no doubt be well repaid for his effort in the simple joy of a good job well done. The following directions should be followed carefully:

Placing the telephone solidly in the center of the desk, the pupil will take a long elastic band, and stretch it from the mouth-piece of the phone (A) over to the brass cover of the ink-well, (B), twice around this cover, and thence to the thumb-screw on the engagement calendar, (C). Having secured this screw firmly with the elastic, the rubber should then be stretched across the length of the desk and looped over the knob of the desk drawer, (D). This forms a large quadrilateral, ABCD.

The pupil will next insert a pencil •beneath the first taut side of this quadrilateral, AB, and by twisting the pencil around three or four times and resting it point downward upon the blotter, he will leave it in such a position that the slightest pressure will release it and send it spinning across the room and into the pot of officepaste. The second side, BC, may next be attached to the arm of the chair by a thumb-tack, which will be pushed into the wood just sufficiently for it to detach itself and fling upward whenever the chair is pushed back. The third side, CD, should be looped back and caught over the telephone receiver. (In order to accomplish this, it is best for the pupil to ask Central to call him back when his number answers, and then hang up the receiver on the hook.) In the fourth side, DA, a common ink-eraser should be solidly embedded, like a pebble in a slingshot, the whole length of elastic drawn back to the breaking point, and the eraser balanced on end at the further edge of the desk.

And at this precise moment, when the pupil cannot possibly remove the receiver from the hook without exploding the whole contraption in his face and maybe knocking out a couple of teeth, the telephone bell will ring.

And while the telephone bell continues to ring violently, and the pupil sits in front of it and stares helplessly at the diabolically clever Catapult which he has just completed, he may derive added pleasure from the thought that all this time the party at the other end of the line is no doubt busily designing a whole new series of fascinating Paper-Clip Figures and Blotter Art Creations while waiting for him.