Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1872-06-04
An Express Messengers story.

In the summer of 1868 | was serv-
ing as MESSENGER on the British Amer
ican (now called Canada) express. My
route lay between Portland and South
Paris, though my Office was in Nor
way, mile and q half distant from
the latter station, between which two
points travelled with my own team
AS three and sometimes four lines OF
stages connected with the Grand
Trunk road at South Paris, through
all of which our express did business,
my route was an important and re-
sponsible one.
1t was on Saturday, August Goth
l ate my dinner, and then went into
the Portland Office to get my freight
and orders for the country. After
the porters had taken out the various
articles consigned to my charge, Mr.
Prindle, our agent, called me to his
desk, and exhibited a package directed
to a party in South Paris, containing
three thousand dollars.
"Do you know that man ?" he asked
pointing to the superscription.
eyes," said 1.
"Do you know where he lives ?"
eyes"
"How far from your depot ?"
"a mile and half / should think
on the old Rumford road"
"Well," he pursued, "I don't care to
have this lay over at the depot, and
you had better deliver it yourself"
told him / would do so.
may here remark that we had nc
regular Office at South Paris. 1t was
my custom to deliver such matter as
was consigned to parties living in the
village, within radius of half mile
or so, while packages going beyond
these limits l usually left with the
station master, to be called for. And
so, even at Norway, it was understood
by our patrons that we did not deliv-
er express matter beyond the limits Of
the village corporation.
AS I was leaving the office, I OBJ
served one of the porters, assisted by
a clerk, lifting soldier into the wagon
of the Kennebec express. Said SOL
dier's right leg was swathcd in thick
bandages from the knee to the toe,
and he hobbled on crutches; his uni
form was worn and he appeared to be
one who had seen hard service.
"Poor fellow !" said the clerk, as he
met me upon the sidewalk. Giles
got two minnie balls through his leg
wounded at Gettysburg. He start
ed down from the International for
the depot on his crutches, but he gave
out here.
At that time, when the great battle
was yet thing of the present, a hero
of Gettysburg was an object of inter
est to me; and / felt almost like ta-
king off my hat to the war-worn and
schattered veteran; but he had gained
his seat, and was driven away before l
had time to salute him.
At the depot l saw my freight safe
ly in the car, and after we had started,
I took turn through the train. /
found our Gettysburg hero in the for
ward car, occupying a whole seat,
with the rim of his old slouched hat
pulled down over his face, probably
asleep. Poor fellow He was weak
and weary.
We arrived at South Paris at half
past three, where 1 found my team
waiting for me-a common express
wagon, drawn by horse which 1 con-
sidered rather superior to express
horses in general. As the last pack
age was placed in my wagon, I observ-
ed the veteran Of Gettysburg hobbling
toward me on the platform, l had
strapped up the tail board, and was on
my way to my scat, when he addressed
me ~ 'Aiot fsl ,e'u. III olTaH