Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1873-03-29
MILLY MORE'S LETTER.

husband. We keep the Anchor Port
Post Office and store, and sell groceries
and garden sass, calico, shoes and medi-
anybody asks for 'em.
When the ships come in and the
sailors come home to their wives and
mothers trade goes brisk. The house
keepers do their best, and the raisins
and dried currants and eggs and but
ter go off finely, and its worth while
to lay in ribbons for the girls and smok-
ing tobacco and long pipes for the men.
Jack and his wages make old Anchor
Port brisk for while, but at last he
sails away, and all the women seem to
ask for will ssbe letters, letters, letters,
letters, when they have right to ex-
pect them, and when they haven't all
the same.
It's "Please, Aunty Gunter, look over
them, and see if there aren't one for
me-" and it's "Please, Uncle Gunter,
it might have got mixed up and over
looked somehow ;" often and often
God help the poor souls!-after Jack
lies at the bottom of the sea, and moth
ing will ever reach them but the news
of his shipwreck. But plenty of letters
come after all, and sometimes we have
to read them for the folks, Job and I,
and so we get to know something of
their lives.
Milly More could read and write her.
self, but still I always knew when she
had letter from Will Masset. 1 knew
it by the handwriting, and knew it by
her bushes, and by that happy look in
her face. When he came home, she
bought ribbons and bits of lace by the
apronfull and I knew where the packa-
ges of candy that he bought were to go.
And used to keep Job from fishing
down in Pullman's creek of afternoons,
because I knew that was where Milly
and Will liked to walk. Courting time
comes but once in lifetime, and I al
ways liked to see it prosper.
At last he sailed away, second mate Of
the Golden Dove, and when he came
back from the voyage they were to be
married.
1t was sad day when the ship sailed.
Mrs. Captain Rawdon and her girls were
crying from the shore. Twenty women
from the Port and five from the Hill
were there to see her set sail.
1t was under an old sycamore that
Will took Molly to his breast.
"Don't fret, darling" he said, "I'll
come back safe and sound. I couldn't
drown now; I've too much to live for. +"
Poor boy! In spite of that the Golden
Dove went down in mid-seas, and only
three men reached Anchor Port to tell
how Captain Rawdon and the rest were
lost, at dead of night, in most woeful
storm.
Captain Kincaid brought the news to
Mrs. Rawdon. He stopped at the store
to tell about it. A nice old man. A
bachelor still, at fifty-eight, and as
handsome, with his white hair and red
cheeks, as q picture.
That was twelve months ago, the
night went into the store to sort things
out, as always did Saturday nights.
Through the week Job used to get
everything mixed up-letters in my tea
boxes, candles in the letter box, eggs
where they oughtn't to be, and all the
place askew. 1t was o warm autumn
night, and Captain Kincaid's vessel was
IN port, and we had plenty of custom.
Job served the people while / tidied up.
found half the last mail in the sugar
box, and clothespins in the ground
coffee canister, and I just dumped them
out.
"Gather up your letters, Job," said
L; "what possesses you, old man ?"
And he laughed and piled 'em up.
And [ made VOW to myself that I'd
keep the sugar-box full after that, SO
that he shouldn't use it for the mail.
l had twenty-four pounds of sugar
known as "coffee crushed" because it
was prepared especially to use in coffee.
That was the finest sugar Anchor Hill
folks often bought, though I had lit
tie cut and powdered by me in case
Mrs. Rawdon or Mrs. DR.. Speer or the
minister's lady should send in; and I
took the paper up and tilted it ovor the
japanned box, pouring in a nice smooth
stream, when who should come it but
Milly More. She was not dressed care
fully, and her eyes were red with crying.
She asked for some tea, and while
Job was weighing it she whispered to
me-
ooh ! Aunty Gunter, have you look
ed to-dayY Isn't there letter from
VIII He said he couldn't die. I
don't feel as if he could. Mightn't he
write after all Do look |"
Ny pet" says 1, =" it's year ago
that the Golden Dove went down. It
isn't likely. And he don't let those
live that want to always. 1t isn't likely,
dear, but I'll look"
took the letters in my hand, one by
one. Many of them would make hearts
glad before the shutters were up that
- F.