The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1875-06-11
TIE RED SEALED LETTER.
4 CAPITAL STORY.

One rainy night, about half past eight
O'Clock, the train had run into McKibben's
Corners, and the mail had been delivered
at the store and postoffce.
John Fairjohn, the postmaster, had
counted the letters. There were, as he
made it out just ten, and one vas larger
than the others, and had a red seal and
then he found that he had left his glasses
on the newspaper in the back room, and
without his glasses he could not read a
line; and SO, of course, lie had gone after
them, returning to find two persons in the
store Farmer Roper and Squire McKib-
bon, whose ancestors had given name to
the place.
"Wet, amt it ?'' said Fairiohn, nodding
'Wet or not, our folks amt going TO do
without their groceries, you see," said the
Squire. malls in see. That train came
near running into my truck, too. Wasn't
noticing the flag, and drove across just in
time to save myself. Any letters for me 80
"i'll see,'' said Mr.. Fairjohn.
He turned to the little pile of envelopes
and told them over in his hand like a pack
of cards.
"Why, there's only nine,'' lie said
'''m sure | counted right. | counted ten,
and thought one had red seal. | might
as well give up keeping the office if I'm
going to lose my senses like that. There
wasn't any one in here, while | was gone,
was there, Squire?'
"Only Roper and - said the Squire,
''and Ropers son. But be didn't come in,
did he ?''
No. said old Roper 81 don't think
that Job came in at all. He just went off
somewhere
"WelI," said the postmaster, after anoth-
er search ''well, | must be mistaken.
Yes, there is a letter for you-your folks,
anyway-and something for you, Mr..
Roper. And suppose you wouldn't mind
tossing that in at the Smiths as you pass p
''Oh, no. said Farmer Roper. Give
it to me. That's from Smith that's clerk
ing it in New York, l reckon, Can't get
any of 'etn to stay and farm"
'.Your son, Job, did, said the Squire.
''Oh, my son, Job. He'd try the patience
Of bis namesake," said Farmer Roper.
''My son, job, hahr'
Just at this moment the door of the store
opened and there entered at it little wo-
man, dressed in a cheap calico and wrapped
in thin and faded shawl.
She looked timidly about the store, still
more timidly at the heap of letters, and
then, in an appealing voice like that of a
frightened child, said:
s'Mr. Fairjobn is there any letter for
me .his time ?''
The postmaster, who is a little deaf,
had TUNED his lead away aud did not know
she had entered, and she came closer to
the counter and the light upon it before
size spoke again. She was faded little
woman, and her face had signs of grief
written upon it, but she was not either
old or ugly yet. and there was something
in the damp curls clustering under the
faded calico hood and in the little round
dimpled chin absolutely child like even
yet.
els there letter for me this time, Mr..
Fariohn ?" she said again, and this time
the postmaster looked up.
mo, there am anC you re d 1ool ior
taking such walk to ask" said he with
rough kindness ''Wouldn't have sent it
if it had a come, Mrs. Lester? ?''
swell, you see felt in a hurry to get
it, said She "You can't blame me for
being in hurry, it's SO very lorg."
"That's true,'' said the postmaster.
'Well better luck next time But why don't
you wait? Mr.. McKiUbon will take you
over when he goes. He passes your cor
ner''
''Yes, wait, Mrs. Lester" cried MIR.
McKibbon. ''I'll take ye, and welcome"
But she had answered
"Thank you. | don't mind walking"
and was gone.
''Keeps it up, don't she ?'' asked the
postmaster
'Its a shame,'' said Mr.. McKibbon.
GLOW many years is it now since Lester
went off ?''
"Ten," said the postmaster. @1 know