The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1874-11-05
DEAD LETTERS.

II
vacation would commence. Two weeks |
But two weeks were two years of fun,
two centuries of real enjoyment, two |
eternities of rest, compared to the con-.
slant drag, drag in that lonely business |
which took up all his hours in work and |
all his night hours in dreams. Two |
weeks away from the constant reading |
of letters which were written for other !
eyes than his How he ever got into |
the deadletter Office he could not say,
and how he ever. staid there without |
growing wild to an extent of pulling |
ont all his hair and ramming pens into |
his brown eyes he couldn't for the life |
of him tell. He had staid on two years |
and was much honored, in a small way,
as a skillful clerk in the department.. |
He couldn't tell why again. In fact, |
his career was a series of " couldn't |
tell-whys," which, however, were the |
cogs of the wheels which kept his life
aRoiDg. A casual observer might have |
told why he was considered one of the
best clerks in the department, and said
observer would have remarked that it
was because he Therel I've got
so far without using a name, and
hoped I'd get clear through the story
without committing myself but it's no
use. These pronouns are terribly eX-
name for the he" before the last dash
or shall be unable to proceed any fur
Their. Well, Tom will do, won't it ?
Toms a name, and there are lots of
Toms in Washington and several Toms
in the dead-letter Office. Now, then,
well take another start with Tom and
the observer.
say that the observer would have
remarked that it Ego back a few lines
| for the explanation of the "it'') was be-
cause Tom had a very tender heart in
| his possession. A sad thing to have a
! tender heart when you're dealing with
! persons, they say. Tom thought it was
sadder when dealing with letters. He
would choke fifty times each day
while reading some earnest, heartfelt
epistle which. despite the love and fidel-
! ity a mothers hand had buried in the
! lines, had Il iscarried, nor would ever
reach dear sons eyes. Or perhaps it
was a fathers strong call-strong in
tears and strong in love-which would
never bring back to the home-fold a
straying daughter.
The letters Tom read with a heart
ache, which spread like neuralgia, and
somehow filled his whole body with an
untold pain, were by the thousand a
| year but his interest in the sad cases
was never tagging, and he always made
a good push to have the letters which
came fro m loving hands for loved ones
take one more chance of reaching their
| destination. If Toms successes had
been each a block of granite the Wash
! ington monument would have been com
| pleted over eleven mo- tbs ago.
Tom was to have two weeks vacation
two weeks, commencing in two days.
He wasn't often idle; but this morning
he held one of batch of letters-epis-
! tolary cOrpses-and sat thinking of any
thing but his work. Where should he
! go in vacation ? There was no mother,
or brother, or sister waiting for him to
| come home. There were no kisses of
welcome waiting for him among green
| hills or by pleasant, shining waters.
Where should he go? Heigho He
couldn't make up his mind. With a
shake, like a cat awaking, he came back
to his work and gazed on the one letter
! from many in pile before him he had
semi taken up. The di-
rection of the letter was as follows {:
Miss Clara f. bennett, st. Adams,
| Vermont"
The postmark bore the name of Provi-
dence, II. l., and date of July 20. On
the other side of the envelope was a
pretty monogram of three letters, F. 4.
W., or W. 81. F., or Fl. W. r, or some
combination, Tom couldn't decide which.
So he opened the letter and read:
CLARA-My heart is nigh breaking May
not come back was wholly wrong; but my
love for you made me unreasonably exacting
and unwilling to yield Forgive me- for
Heavens sake, and say may come to You.
l will wait one week more in Providence to
hear from you. Do write. FRANK.
No date and no signature. "Just
! L.. "a
only thing settled is that the first letter
of that monogram is an F, a blue f.
That doesn't amount to anything. /
don't know the second letter. mean
which it is" Somehow he was led to
put the letter one side instead of throw
hight in the waste receptacle. He
thought he'd like to look at that mono
gram once more, it was such a pretty
one.
Five, six, seven, eight, nine more let
ters read, and nothing in the shape of
business yet. Number ten Number
ten was in a small, delicate hand, di-
rectsd as follows: "Mr. Frank Fl
Wendell, St. Adams, Vermont"
Tom had quite forgotten for the mo-
ment the other s.. Adams letter. but of
sudden he cried out to himself {:
"Hullol st. Adams is full of Business
to-day J. He then opened and read
MY DEAR FRANK-I only hope YOU have
gone back to st. Adams, for Heaven alone
| knows how else this may reach you- / take
my only chance, it seems to me, left for hap
piness. l must write, since my heart will not
| let me ait longer and feed on my own sorrow
without breaking. Dear, since you went away
from me on that sad, sad night, not one mo-
ment Of peace, no dav when a song was pleas
ant to hear, no day when could sit silently
glad, has come to me. Only longing for YOU.
was proud and angry that you could not
trust me and though l could easily have ex-
| planned Wouid not. l, for that short half
hour believed I could bear everything, since
bore Your harsh words Gas they then soemed)
Now know was wrong Darling, will you
not write to me just one word to ray you
forgive me, aud, il you can, say you still love
me? Shall I never see You again Dear
heart was never anything but to you, and
that can show you IL YOU will come to me or
just one letter, and will bless you each day
/ live, il God makes me live a thousand years.
Always being, l am still; only yours,
CLARA f. BENNETT,
Wallace street. Fitchburg.
I. 81 am with my cousin, passing the
summer, and, unless hear from you, trust
may mover return to St. Adams
No, he didn't, that clerk answered.
after he had got through staring at Tom.
Who'd be likely TO know Young
fellow about the city?" sgain asked
Tom.
Well Second long stare), the clerk
thought he (the clerk) would, and he'd
never heard of Frank Wendell or any
other Wendell, except an old fellow who
sometimes came round to buy bottles at
the hotel. That wasn't the one the gen
tlemen meant, was it?
Tom thought not.
Tom was manifestly brought up stand
ing So he went to bed.
Next morning he had another look at
the letters. The delicately written ore
gave him no clue for the present. @ r
tainly the other 6idn't Tom put them
both on the mantel-piece and turned to
brush his hair at the mirror Ga two-by-
one-an, -a-half bit of looking glass.
While Toms auburn locks were being
" fixed" nice little gust of wind "un-
fixed" them; but at last his hair was
dressed. Tom turned to take the letters
and "Confound it, if they haven't
tumbled into the pitcher of water -
There was such a reCeptacle on the table