half an hour in London, and many of the smaller cities have no
night service. An American thinks nothing of putting in a
telephone; he notifies his company and in a few days the
instrument is installed. We take a thing like this for granted.
But there are places where a mere telephone subscription, the
privilege of having an instrument installed, is a property right
of considerable value and where the telephone service has a
"waiting list," like an exclusive club. In Japan one can sell a
telephone privilege at a good price, its value being daily quoted
on the Stock Exchange. Americans, by constantly using the
telephone, have developed what may be called a sixth sense, which
enables them to project their personalities over an almost
unlimited area. In the United States the telephone has become the
one all-prevailing method of communication. The European writes
or telegraphs while the American more frequently telephones. In
this country the telephone penetrates to places which even the
mails never reach. The rural free delivery and other forms of the
mail service extend to 58,000 communities, while our 10,000,000
telephones encompass 70,000. We use this instrument for all the
varied experiences of life, domestic, social, and commercial.
There are residences in New York City that have private branch
exchanges, like a bank or a newspaper office. Hostesses are more
and more falling into the habit of telephoning invitations for
dinner and other diversions. Many people find telephone
conversations more convenient than personal interviews, and it is
every day displacing the stenographer and the traveling salesman.

Perhaps the most noteworthy achievement of the telephone is its
transformation of country life. In Europe, rural telephones are
almost unknown, while in the United States one-third of all our