"To any telephone girl"

Of course you heard me well enough and knew
I asked for Gerrard 2166;
The trouble is you never seem to fix
Your mind on what you undertake to do.

I cannot tell what system you pursue,

Nor how, within the space of twenty ticks,
Those simple numbers you contrived to mix
And put me on to 6122.

I give it up; nor will I toil and fret
Such depths of human frailty to probe;
I merely state your methods would upset
The standard equilibrium of Job,
To whom such sore vexations were unknown
As you and this infernal telephone.

Hansard Watt

Published 1911, Pall Mall Magazine