. Sonnets of a telephone girl . III. WISHT I had a beau like one girls got,Who calls him up a dozen times a day,And I hear every blessed word they say;And my! he calls her honey, and a lotOf awful sweet things that I like to hear. I hope some fellow, soon will know enough To call me tootsy-wootsy, pet and dear, And angel, and a lot of that sweet stuff! His name is Willie, cause I heard her sayIt to him kind of lovin-like and ! but I wisht that fellow was my beau, And I could be right with him every day!And lay my head right on his heavin smile at him and—he would do the rest!.

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