Adams Switch-Board Finishes Quarter Century of Service---150 Calls Per Day Proves Fatal

A quarter-century of strenuous and unrelenting labor has finally spelled the demise of the faithful old Randolph Hall switch-board, and yesterday its time-worn panels and moth-eaten cords were removed forever from the hallowed and ivy-covered environs which it has known for so long.

A bright and shiny affair, all a glitter with highly-polished brass and chromium plate, the new switch-board sports a chic little dial, supposedly a much needed labor-saving device, which, the telephone company claims, will eliminate the pseudo laborious task of pushing the signal lever to connect with the outside trunk line, while at the same time, it is also asserted, it will speed up the service greatly, but this only after the operator has "finally got the hang of it."

Any where from 125 to 150 calls passed through the old board every day, and on especially good days, the operator used hardly to have time to check up on the various conversations, much less having opportunity to concentrate properly on his "Spicey Detective" or game of checkers, as the case might have been.

As was the capacity of its heary predecessor, the new switch board connects with some 66 different rooms throughout the confines of the older buildings of the domains of the Gold Coasters, in addition to which there are also two other phones for the janitor and the like. Unfortunately, however, only six of the trunk lines can be connected up at one time; and although the operator late last night refused to commit himself, we'll bet he has a hard time listening in on all of them at the same time.

Contrary to many of the rumors in general circulation about the Yard and the banks of the River, the morning operator is called upon only rarely to wake those somnambulous souls who put little or no faith in the pertinacity or effectiveness of their alarm-clocks.

And here we have another evidence of the unrelenting hand of the Machine Ago, of the replacing of the old by the how.

"It's metabolism," say the physiologists.

"Progress," say the efficiency experts.

"No, I won't give my name," says the operator.