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[continuation of poem "The Telephone Girl", written sideways on page]

She knows every time we are out with the boys" She hears the excuses each fellow employs; She knows every woman who has a dark past; She knows every man who's inclined to be "fast"; In fact there's a secret beneath each saucey curl, of that quiet, demure looking telephone girl.

If the telephone girl told us all that she knows. It would turn half our friends into bitterest foes; She could sow a small wind that would be a gale, Engulf us in trouble and land us in jail,