The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1876-11-25
THE LETTER.

"Any letters ~ asked the Widow Wads-
worth, turning from the counter to the
: corner of the window over which swung a
placard bearing the legend " Post Office y
upon it, and CHANGING through her spec
tacles at the small row of jars which were
made to do duty as tter-holders. "Any
letters for our house. Mr. Bristol? -
/ Mr.. Bristol, the senior, of that name
who was too rheumatic TO weigh groceries,
was deaf as a post, and had perhaps the
least natural talent for the reading of dubi
ous scrip that could be found in the person
/ of any living man: and besides this. could
never find his spectacles-r reused himself
| from nap in which he had been indulging,
/ looked bewildered, and seemed for mo.
ment dubious as to what he should do next.
I But seeing that Mrs. Wadsworth' s eyes
| were fixed upon the Jars, decided that she
wanted letter, and reaching up, slowly
took few of them down, and with much
deliberation, spread them before her like a
pack of cards.
"fve put my specks some'rs," he said,
"hut where dunno. Look EN- over and
sort out what's yourn, Mrs. Wadsworth.'
This was old Mr.. Bristol's usual style of
! performing the business of country post
master.
And as it was an honest place, little harm
came of it.
Often people carried their neighbors' let
ters to them, when they happened to pass
their gates. and the only registered letter
that ever yet had been sent to Kornhill
was considered an insult to the community
at large.
"They might ha' knowed no one would
ha' meddled with it, said the postmaster.
And the farmers talked the matter over
as they logged home side by side in their
wagons, and the Summer visitor who did
tia strange thing was made to feel the
Indignation of her hostess.
! But that was long after the evening on
which Mrs. Wadsw orth asked if there
were any letters for her house.
Peering over the little row spread before
her. she saw that there was oBe-a small
envelope addressed i'll delicate hand to
"James WaCisworth.'
,'That's Jim, said the old lady. "Who
can have writ to him -
t There were no more,
She put her single opistle into her pocket,
pushed :he rest towards Mr.. Bristol and
..odded at him.
Mr.. Bristol nodded in reply, REARED the
went to sleep again
Then the younger Bristol helped the old
lady into her chaise, handed in her basket
of groceries, and she drove away, with the
letter in her pocket, and a queer feeling,
half fear and half anger, at her heart, as
she said over and over again, talking aloud
10 herself, as the old white horse plodded
along the lonely road
" Who has writ To Jim, | wonder?'
Maggie, The maid came out to carry in
The basket when Mrs. Wadsworth stopped
at her own gate, and she herself walked
into the kitchen.
There was a great fire there, and on it
the kettle was boiling, steam rushing from
it's spout in one long stream.
Before this fire, Mrs. Wadsworth stood
and warmed her hands.
II wonder who has writ to Jim she
said. elf l thought it was that girl, I'd
throw it into the fire.
Then a story she had heard of some one
who had felonorsly opened an envelope by
holding it over the steam of kettle occur
Cured to her mind.
Il wonder whether ii would open that
way" she said. "lt couldn't be of any
great harm just to satisfy myself that il
isn't from her. Jim is but boy, and I'm
his mother. think, according to law, FG
have a right. ought to, anyhow
Then the hand which held the letter out
stretched itself
The stream OF steam beat against the
flap of the envelope.
In moment Or so it hung loose, limp
and wet in her hands.
"l'll go and put my bonnet away she
said, in an unnatural sort of tone, anC
: hurried up stairs.
elm his MOTHER she said again, a.
she sat down in her chair, and drew the
letter FROM the envelope. It's right
. should know"
Then she cast her eyes over the writing
There was not much of it.
5 Just this
/ "DEAR JAMES, know, after my con
r duct, it is my place to write first. wa
:, naughty. Please forgive me. Isn't tina
! humble enough? And if you do, come
e and take me to the picnic tomorrow.
/ Your own, NELLIE"
y :" 1t is from that girl said Mrs. Wads
# worth. Its from her. And things hav
gone so far, and he hasn't told his mothe
word. Oh, how hard it is to bear. Tha
girl don't want Jim to marry; but of al
i girls, that one. p"
And she rocked herself to and fro