Democratic messenger., 1881-09-24
TIE COUNTRY POSTMAN.
A STORY OF A HERo-TRANsLATED FROM
THE FRENCH.

THE FRENCH.
You have often seen him pass through
the fields with q hasty step, recogniz-
able not only by his blouse and his
regulation hat, but also by the sustained
activity of his movements, because for
him the instants are counted and he has
not the right to slacken his pace. An
indefatigable walker, he accomplishes
his task from the first to the last day of
the year without ever resting. No mat
ter though tropical sun invite all crea-
lures to become moiionless, though the
cold be Siberian, though it blow and
snow, he must go to the last village on
his route to carry the letters, newspa-
pers and prospectuses which trade con-
tides by millions to the care of the post.
Iknew a man who for twenty years
filled this position. a former soldier,
thanks TO irreproachable records of SER
vice strengthened by little influence,
he had obtained the great favor of hav-
ing placed to his credit fifty francs per
month at the post Office of the district.
Pere Martin was not very fond of this
brilliant position, but he perfectly un-
derstood the responsibility aud duties !;
he never complained.
Everybody in the district was ac-
quainted with this little gray haired
man with bronzed features, whose limbs
had the pIiancy and strength of steel.
He was highly appreciated, for, while
scrupulous observer of the regulation,
he never refused to perform service,
provided it did not conflict with his
duties.
One day in the middle of October he
departed on his usual round. The
weather was frightful it had been rain
ing necessarily for more than a week ;
the roads had become bogs and the
brooks had been transformed into tor
rents; what foliage remained on the
trees was so impregnated with water
that it could not offer protecting shell
ter. The postman, wet to the skin,
walked with the impasslbility of an old
soldier who does not discuss his orders.
lie had distributed portion of his
mail, but his round was far from being
finished, when he passed an inn, or
rather a miserable drinking house, stu
ated at the entrance of wood this
place was mainly patronized by sabot
makers, who found there alcoholic
drinks and a few groceries.
"Hol Monsieur, the postman, stop
here for an instant; while you are Civ
ing me the information need, the vio-
Ience of the storm will abate
This invitation was addressed to him
by a man who. with a pipe in his
mouth, was standing upon the threshold
of the drinking house.
The rain was pouring down at that
moment a fierce blast swept it into
Pere Martins face, preventing him
from walking and bent to the ground
the stalwart trees.
The postman was q little ahead of
time, and the demands of the service do
not go so far as to forbid the accept
ance of a momentary shelter when it
offers itself under such circumstances.
He, therefore, went into the house
and sat down beside the fire which
cracked on the hearth. The man who
had invited him to enter threw upon it
some dry branches, which were soon in
flames heavy vapor arose from Mar
tins soaked garments.
The stranger interrogated the post
man as to the hours of the departure of
the mails, and asked him a host of
questions about himself, his service and
everything concerning it.
"You know me, then?" said the
postman.
"Parbleul Every body loves and
esteems you here; Pere Martins value
is well known. What dogs trade you
follow, Pere Martini said the man.
"Will it take you much longer to finish
your round? You doubtless have yet
to go the Landa Grlse, to Plessis.
know some one who is patiently waiting
for you there. am obliged to pass in
the vicinity. If you wish it, | will re-
lieve you Of your letters"
"Thank you. / will deliver them
myself"
'That's yourself ont and out. After
all you are right. 1t is your duty to
deliver them"
While talking with loquacity which
did not encourage the postman he took
mp the sack the latter had placed beside
him, seemed to feel its weight and
turned it over and over.
"Let my sack alone, please" said
muEbt1, COluiy. lou nave uuedI-
ranged all my letters. l shall no longer
know what to do"
The other humbly excused himself
for his awkwardness.
"The evil is reparable," added he.
"Seat yourself at this table and you will
have no trouble to arrange the letters to
the route you should take.
The postman emptied his sack before
him and began to arrange his letters.
His guestioner affected to keep discreet
ly at distance, but found an oppor-
tunity TO cast a furtive glance over his
shoulder.
While Martin was busy with his
work he heard furious growls behind
him.
"Pere Martin, help me to prevent
your dog from strangling mine" said
his new acquaintance.
The postman arose and caught his
dog by the skin of the neck. The ami
mails fury contrasted with it's habitual
gentleness.
This fact seemed strange to Martin.
n Il -