“Now, I hate to get too plain-spoken with anybody, least of all a woman. But I had to tell Minnie what I thought she was. After which I told her what I thought she wasn’t—which is that she ain’t right bright. Minnie ought to could look at me by now and tell I never have no money. I also told Minnie that she is not stable, as the Relief folks says, because to my knowledge Minnie has had four jobs in three weeks and kept none of them.

“‘Furthermore, Minnie,’ I says, ‘you are not sober. I can tell right now the way you talk on this phone you are not sober. Tomorrow, you will have a hang-over, and cannot go to work again, even if you have a job. Don’t bother me about money,’ I said and I started to hang up. But before I got the hook from my ear, Minnie called me a name which no man can take on the phone. In fact, Minnie were so indignant she called me out of my name. So I was forced to reply. Just then Central said ‘Five cents more, please,’ which Minnie did not have. So our conversation were cut off on an unpleasant note with the last word being Minnie’s. Boy, did you ever have a begging relative?”

“Who hasn’t had such kinfolks?” I asked.

“Just when Joyce and me get a phone in our room, after being married almost two years without a phone of our own, who should come to New York and start phoning us but Cousin Minnie! I got a good mind to take my phone out of its socket.”

“Then Minnie would probably come to your house and worry you in person,” I said.