Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1875-06-04
AsHTABULA, OHIO, FRIDAY. JUNE 4, 1875
HIS LETTER.

post-ofhce.
John Fairjohn, the postmaster,
had opened the bag and counted
the letters. There were, as he made
it out, Just ten and one was larger
than the others, and had a red seal;
and then he had found 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, returning to
find two persons in the store-Far-
mer Roper, and Squire M'Kibben,
whose ancestors mad given name to
the place. - = az
Wet amt it! said Mr.. Fairjohn
nodding. az.
Wet or not, our folks amt 60
ing to do without their groceries,
you see, said the Squire. 'Mail's
in, | see. That train came near
running into my truck too. Wasn't
noticing the flag, and drove across
just in time to saves.myself. Any
lSGCSIS 1OI AlC!
I'T see, said Fairjohn.
He turned to the little pile of en-
velopes, and told them over in his
hand like deck of cards.
Why, there'sFonly nine, he said,
Pm sure 1 counted right i count
ed ten and l thought one had red
seal. might as well give up keeping
the Office if Pm going to lose my
senses like that. There wasen't
any one in here while l was gone,
was there, Squire? ~.
Only Roper and I, said the
squire and Roper's son. But he
didn't come in, did he?
No, said old Roper. Il don't
think that Job came in at all. He,
just went off somewhere.
Well, said the postmaster, after
another search, well l must be mis-
taken. 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 Smith 81 as: you pass? 81
Oh, no, said farmer Roper, 'Give
it to me. That's from Smith that's
clerking tin New York, l Ireckon.
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
patience of his namesake, said far
mer Roper. My son Job, bah.
Just at the moment the door of
the store opened, and there entered
it little woman dressed in cheap
calico and wrapped in thin faded
shawl. -aE,,t
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:
Mr.. Farjohn, IS there any letters
for me this time?
The postmaster, who was little
deaf, had turned his head away and
did not know that she had entered
and. she came closer, to the counter
and the light upon it before she
spoke again. She was faded wo-
man, and her face had a sign of
grief written upon it, but she was
neither old or ugly yet, and there
was something in the, damp curls
clustering under the faded hood and
in the little round, dimpled chin alb
solutely childlike even yet.
Is there letter for me this time,
Mr.. Fairjohn? she asked again; and
this time the postmaster looked up.
No, there amt, and you're a foo
for taking such a walk to ask; said
he with rough kindness, Wouldn't
1 have sentit ifit had a,come, Mrs
Lester2
Well, You see felt in a hurry to
get it, said she. You can't blame
me for being in hurry, its so long.
That's true, said the postmaster.
Well better luck next time. But
why don't you wait? Mr.. M'Kib
ben will take you over when he goes
He passes your corner.
Yes, wait, Mrs. Lester, cried Mr.
M'Kibben; I'll take ye and vel
come -.3
| But she had answered;
Thank you, l don't mind walk
ing, and was gone.
Keeps it up, don't she? asked the
postmaster.
It's shame said Mr.. M'Kibben
How many years is it since Lester
went off?
Ten, said the postmaster. 1 know
for it was the day came here. Sht
was as prettya a woman as you'd wan
to see, then, wasn't she?
| Well, yes, said Mr.. M'Kibben.
Sailed in the Sphynx, said thu
postmaster. And we all know tina
the Sphynx went down in that voy
age, and all hands along with her
The rest of the women put on wid
| owls weeds, them that lost hus
bands-four in thisto%n itself. The!
took what the Almighty sent, anC
didn't rebel. She set up that hel
husband wasen't dead and woulC
come back. She has kept it up eve
since; comes for his letter regular
and be was drowned long with al
the rest, Of course, ten years ago.
She must be thirty. Well, she
changed. a good deal in that time.
| Yes, said the other man; bu
there's my son Job wild over he
| yet. He's offered himself twice
He stands ready to offer himsel
again any day-ready to be ia
ther to her boy, and a good husban
to her. He's better off than be
His mothers father lefthim all h
had. He's crazy as Job-crazy
call it. Plenty of pretty gals, an'
healthy smart widows, and he see
no one but that pale, slim, httl
thing, that's just gone out into tn
mud; and she-why, of course shes
lost her senses or she'd have him
Works like slave to keep hersel
and the child, lives in a ricket,,
shanty, waiting and waiting for
drowned man TO come back again
Why, every one knows that Charll
Lester was drowned in the Sphyn1
There wasen't soul saved, not one
It was in the papers. Now tn
hottie was found with q letter in il
writ by some one Just before tn