The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1875-06-18
HIS LETTER..

One rainy night, about halt-past eight
O'Clock, The T1im had dashed into Mc-kib-
ben's Corners and the mail had been deliv-
cred al The store and ~poSt-office.
John F4irichn. the postmaster, had
opened 4" bar and counted the letters.
There VIZ, n he made out, just ten. and
Il Ua~ -,rgcr than the others and had a
red sea. and then he had found that he
had Ic1t Liz glasses on the newspaper in
the back room. and without his glasses he
could nc- read L line: and so, of course,
he had gone after them, returning to find
two persons III the Store-Farmer Roper
and SPUR Nckibben, whose ancestors
had given nam" to the place.
"We,. ant IT." said Mr.. Fairiohn.
n9ddinZ.
We o. aoC, Il folks amt going to
do withop;: heir groceries, yousce. That
train came near r%unnin" into my truck,
too. Wt-.'c noticing the flag, and drove
across Jas, ~ time To save myself. Any
letters tor ne"
IN see. sad Mr.. Fairjohn.
He tUrl@& 70 la little lileof envelopes,
and tod chem over in his hand like a
deck OF cards.
Why, there's only nine!" he said.
I'm sure counted right. counted ten,
and thought one had a red seal. | might
As well give up keeping the office if I'm
going 10 iOse my senses like that. There
wasn't any one in here while | was gone,
was there. squirrel"
only Roper and l." said the Squire.
land 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 an
other search, well, | must be mistaken.
Yes, there i a letter for you-your folks,
~anyway-4nd something for you. Mr..
Roper. And you wouldn't mind tossing
that III a the smiths as you pass?"
"Oh, no." said farmer Roper. Give it
to me. That's from Smith that's clerking
itin New York. [ reckon. Can't get any
Of EN- to stay and farm
Your son job did" said the Squire.
"Oh, my son Job! He'd try the pa
thence Of his namcsake," said farmer
Roper. My son Job, bah"
Just al this moment the door of the
store opened, and there entered at it a lit
tie woman dressed in a cheap calico and
wrapped in q thin and faded shawl.
She looked timidly about the store, still
more timidlv al the heap OF letters, and
then. III 81 appealing voice like that of a
frightened child, said:
MIR. Fairiohn, IS there any letter for
me this ciG2e:"
The postmaster, who was a little deaf,
had turned his head away and did not
know thar she had entered, and she came
closer 10 The counter and the light upon it
before she spoke again. She was a faded
little woman. and her face had signs of
grief written upon iU, but she was neither |
old nor ugly yet, and there was some
thing in the damp curls clustering under
the faded calico hood, and in the little
round. dimpled chin absolutely childlike
even yet.
"Is there q letter for me this time, Mr..
Fairiohn?" she said again !; and this time
the postmaster looked up.
mo, there amt; and you're a fool for
taking such a walk to ask" said he with
rough kindness. wouldn't have sent
it if it had a-come, Mrs. Lester?"
"Well, you see, | felt in a hurry to get
it," said she. You can't blame me for
hoipn w n br1-rv i+sc co Ionn |
"That's true" said the postmaster.
" Well, better luck next time. But why
don't you wait? Mr.. McKibben will take
you over when he goes. He passes your
corner"
"Yes. wait, Mrs. Lester" cried Mr..
Mckibben, "Pfl take We and welcome"
But she had answered: