The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1872-03-01
The Postmaster at Lake George.
BY DON PIATT.

BY DON PIATT.
This Summers rush of people play
ed said havoc with the mails. A poor
old postmaster, accustomed to half ioz.
en- letters week and fair lot of news
papers, suddenly finds himself over
| whelmed with mail matter. Bags
tumbled in on him filled to bursting
He at first attempts to sort and distrl-
butte the contents, then worried to death
by the roar of voices demanding their
letters, he turns over the business to the
clerks and messengers of hotels and
boarding houses. The letters In this
way come after q time to the wrong
people, but the journals are never heard
of.
had been at Lake George some two
weeks without getting any mail matter,
although 1 had sent over almost every
day. Wearied out at last, went my
self. 1 found little sandy-haired
heavy jawed, full.stomached man peg
ging away at an old boot, on a cobbler's
bench. l asked this industrious son of
st. Crispin for the postmaster.
"l'm him." responded the shoemen-
der.
He might be Sam or him, but
looked incredulous upon the fact assert
ed or referred to, Of postmastership. He
continued to drive in the pegs, whist
ling, in waxy way, tune that, when
accompanied by the proper words, re-
fers to some sort of eccentricity of the
weasel when popping, whatever that
may be. L looked at this vegetable
production with carroty hair and red
dish cheeks, as he pegged and popped
and finding that he intended taking no
further notice of me, mildly suggest
that if he were the postmaster, would
be pleased to get my letters and pa.
pers.
"What's your name?" he asked,
suspending the whistled popping of the
weasel, but going on with his exaspera-
ting work.
responded by giving the cognomen
and was told, briefly, in words to wit
"Ain't nothing for you,p and then he
took up the extraordinary weasel. !
demonstrated, and asserted that there
must be some mistake.
"Well," he said, Ego look for your
self. There's the P's."
did as directed, and found eighteen
letters and a pile of newspapers.
|
"What the devil do you mean by say.
ing had no mail?"
SIS that your name," he ssked
coolly.
Certainly, it is"
"Well, 1 thought it was Daniel
Pratt"
l was rapidly resolving into an indig
nation meeting, with divers resolutions
and strong tendency to punch some
body's head.
"You thought that name Daniel
Pratt, did you? Well, it strikes me
that it would be well for you to learn
reading and writing before playing the
devil in post-office."
"Well, stranger" he responded, sus
pending both music and work, ''ef
had such an outlandish name as your'n
I'd go back and be baby, so as to bt
christened over, would"
I found that the little red headed
wood-pecker was getting the better o
the controversy, and so prudently with
drew. He had hit me, unwittingly, OF
a tender place; but did not love hin
any the better for that. With some in
dignation, 1 stated my grievances a
the hotel, and an old frequenter of LAX,
George told me that the postmaster wa
one of the features of the place. He haC
beenin office from an early day, and wa,
man of varied accom- plishments. II,
was postmaster, magistrate, shoemake
and at one time kept a stud horse
There is tradition n afloat that, year
ago, he found the law which require,
him to be in his Office every day yer,
EN- barrassing, SO he compromised b,
putting all the letters in his hat, ant
carrying the post.office around will
him. The searcher after mail-matte
would have to run the post office dow
and when found, the obliging Office
would pour the letters upon the flool
or ground, andlet thecurious individua
search for himself. When the letter
got to be so greasy and soiled as not t
be legible, he would forward them t
Washington as dead letters.
There is no use complaining of tn
shortcomings and deficiencies of thi
official, for he cannot be turned out
There is no one abe Caldwell will
, ing to be his successor. Andy Johnso
: tried to make the postmaster at Gale
we'll understand his policy. A CORES
pondence sprang up in reply to circl
5 lar issued by Andy's Postmaster. Ger
eral, but this high fu nctionary could NJ
read the Caldwell mans writing, an
. the last named could not understand tn
l policy. AT last it reached point whel
, the cabinet officer was able to make oil
one line. 1t read as follows "Yor
polisy be damned" This was stror
, sentiment, and spelled with great vigo
Andy got in great rage, and ordere
a the Office to be given to new man. 81
, the new man could not be found. \
one would have the place. So the CO.
tumacious orthographist of a profal
. turn was permitted to remain, and wi
, remain, so long as the Lord permits hi
! to cumber the sandy soil about Call
well.
A GIANT TREE.-It seems that z