In the Market House at the end of Main Street is an old-fashioned telephone:
Pick up the receiver, and you can hear a fanciful old party-line telephone call (so called because those with enough money to own a phone at the time were stereotypically rich Republicans who always voted “along the party line”) in which a woman is so confused that she has called the postmaster to tell him that her barn is on fire.
Note that the phone is farther to the left on the wall in the old picture than it is in the new picture. Many years ago, the phone was moved further into the corner to make more room for merchandise in the shop.
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