THERE is an old and significant exclamation heard in New England: it is "I want to know!" It is merely a vocal gesture of surprise, equivalent to "You don't tell me that!" or "Is it possible?" It may be considered significant, for the prominent feature in the character of the New Englander, is our appetite for information of all kinds. Our humor is peculiarly our own, it never deserts us during the indulgence in our indomitable curiosity. There is nothing prying in it, we are not curious about persons, but inquisitive about things.

       Let us recall a story: An old Vermonter was on a brief visit to Boston some years ago, when he heard of a wonderful instrument recently invented called the Telephone, through which a man could hold a conversation with a friend a hundred miles away. This taxed the old man's credulity too heavily; he must see that to believe it, and tell his neighbors, when he returned home, what the world was coming to in Boston! So he visited the telephone office and witnessed the operation of sending and receiving a message. Still he would not be satisfied. He asked if he could send a message to his wife at home. It was found that in the town, not far from his farm, there was a telephone station, through which a message was sent, requesting that the lady should be brought down to that end of the wire. Our Vermonter patiently waited until a signal came that she was there.

       "Come sir! speak to her yourself," said the operator, "you will recognize her voice, although the answers may come disturbed, for there is a thunder-storm going on somewhere along the line."

       "Oh, hold on now," said the suspicious old fellow, "that can't change my wife's voice, she's got a thunder of her own; you can't fool me."

       "Go on, sir, they are waiting a call!"

       "Say," shouted the farmer into the instrument, "is that you, old gal?"

       "Who are you?" came a female voice in reply.

       "I'm Josh! right here in Boston, and sha'n't come home this week!"

       At this moment an electric shock was imparted to the wire by the storm, and somehow its effect on Josh was a blow on the side of his head that knocked him flat.

       "That's Sairey, every time!" quietly acknowledged the farmer as he picked himself up. The blow carried conviction to his mind.