Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1875-05-14

ONE rainy night, about halfpast eight
o'clock, the train had dashed into Nc
Kibben's Corners, and the mail had been
delivered at the store and postoffice.
John Fairjohn, the Postmaster, had
opened the bag and counted the letters.
There were, as he made out, just ten, and
one was larger than the others, and had
red seal; and then he had found that
he had left his glasses on the newspaper
in the back room, and without his
glasses he could not read line; and so,
of course, he had gone after them, re-
turning to find two persons in the store
Farmer Roper and Squire McKibben,
whose ancestors had given namc to the
place.
"Wet, amt it?" said Mr., Fairjohn, nod
ding.
"Wet or not, our folks amt going to
do without their groceries, you see" said
the Squire. MAILS in, see. That tram
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?"
"Tll see," said Mr.. Fairjohn.
He turned to the little pile OF envcl-
opes, and told them over in his hand like
deck of cards.
"Why. there's only nine" he said.
"pm sure I counted right. | counted
ten, and thought one had a red seal. |
might as well give up keeping the office
if Pm, going to lose my senses like that.
There wasn't anyone in here while | was
gone, was there, 'Squire?"
"Only Roper and l." said the Squire,
land Roper's son. But he didn't come
in, did he?"
"No," said old Roper. "I don't think
that Job came in at all, He just went
off somewhere"
"Well,n said the Postmaster after an-
other search" well, Imust be mistaken.
Yes, there is a letter for you-your
folks, anyway-and something for you,
Mr.. Roper. And you wouldn't mind
tossing that in at the Smiths as you
pass?"
"Oh, no." said Farmer Roper. "Give
1t to me. That's from Smith that's
clerking it in New York, reckon. Can't
get any of 'em to stay and farm"
Your son Job did," said the Squire.
"Oh, my son Job. He'd try the pa.
thence of his namesake," said Farmer
Roper. 'IMy son Job, bah!"
Just at this moment the door of the
store opened and there entered at it a
little woman dressed in cheap calico
and wrapped in thin and faded shawl.
She looked timiGly about the store
still more timidly at the heap of letters,
and then, in an appealing voice like that
OF a frightened child, said:
"Mr. Fairiohn, is there any letter for
me this time2p ssa
The Postmaster, who was little deaf,
had turned his head away and did not
know thatshe had entered, and she came
closer TO the counter and the light upon
it before she spoke again. She was q
faded little woman, and her face had
signs of grief written upon it, but she
was neither old nor ugly yet, and there
was something in the damp curls clus
~ tering under the faded calico hood ano
in the little, round, dimpled chin abso
lutely child-like even yet.
els there letter for me this time, Mr.
Fairjohn?' she said again; and this time
~ the Postmaster looked up.
'Ass 6" No, there amt; and you're q foo
fer taking such walk to ask" said he
with rough kindness. "Wouldn't hav,
sent it if it had a-come, Mrs Lester?"
"Well, you see, felt in hurry to ge
it," said shea" You can't blame me fo
being in hurry; it's so long"
"That's true" said the. Postmaster
Well, better luck next time. But VIII,
don't you wait? Mr.. McKibben will tax
you over when he goes He passes you
corner"
"Yes, wait, Mrs. Lester, cried Mr.. Mo
Kibben, /" III take ye and welcome"
But she had answered,
lS' Thank you. don't mind walking,
and was gone.
Keeps it up, don't she?" asked th
Postmaster
It's a shame,p said Mr.. McKibbei
how many years is itn since Leste
went Off"
Fem said the Postmaster. "Iknov
Ior II was the day I came here She ws
Is preuy woman as you'd want to Sc
thsn, wasn't she?n
Wen, yes" said Mr.. McRihben.