Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1881-09-01
THE CLEARPOND STAGE.

dUOuC ana rum
s' THE CLEARPOND STAGE.
It had been storming hard all day.
The seventeen miles Of billy roadway
from Selborn to Clearpond were two
feet deep in the snow, which was still
falling, and the evening stage was late.
1t was due in Clearpond at eight o'clock,
but the pointer stood at nine in the vii
lage /" Store and Post-office," and yet
the stage had not come.
The store was full, as usual, of men
waiting for the mail. There was "the
Judge" who had never held other court
than that which was now assembled
around him, but whose keen wit and
solid Judgment were well worthy of a
higher bench; his Boswell, in the per-
son of +" Uncle Cephas," the village cob
bier, from each corner of whose mouth
issued perpetually a tawny ooze sug-
gestive of tobacco; "the Deacon" a
notorious drinker and swearer, but of
severe and dignified aspect; "Gran'pa
Billin's,'' whose kindly smile and ven
cradle white beard gave "tone - to tho
assembly; and "Banty," the Postmas-
ter, whose real name of Simpkins had
DCCl lOuH ulSCdluCu HULL COIAIuOA use
for the nickname which his small size
and strutting manner had earned for
him. Beside these there were dozen
young fellows and some old ones, of
more or less consequence, the whole
forming company such as every New
England Post-office knew we'll at that
time. This was the place to get the
news, as much as the ''sewin' -meetin'."
"They do say remarked the Judge,
rolling q quid of tobacco from one
cheek to the other-ss they do say,
Banty, that Seth amt a-gettin' so much
as he RELY wants for takin' the mail.
How is it?''
Seth Plunkett had faithfully carried
the United States mail between Selborn
and Clearpond for sixteen years.
'sGuess it's so," replied the shrewd
little Postmater, with a knowing nod.
"I'd like to know" said the Deacon,
"What he's a-goin' to do about it.
Striker"
Banty nodded several times impress
sively.
ssHumph!' said the Judge, after a
moments pause. "He'll be a-buntin'
his head a-gin' a stun-wall. The Guv'-
meft' g economizin' Seth won't git no
riz this year,
s.Think notP" piped in old Uncle Ce-
phas, making clean path for his words
at the expense of his hand. 'He ruth
er expects it. Told me SO yesterday"
He-won't-g | tell
you'll" repeated the Judge, pounding on
the counter to emphasize each word !;
and the weight of opinion seemed to be
on his side. '&i,a
just then the door opened, and a
pretty young girl, with bright dark eyes
and trim figure, peered in shyly through
the cloud Of tobacco-smoke. Grandpa
Billin's was near the door and beckoned
to her reassuringly. iii.
.'Come in, Hettie," he said. "Stage
hain't come" s....s
"1You don't suppose anything has
happened to Father, do YOUR said pref
ty Henrietta Plunkett, coming just in
side the door.
s.Law, mol" replied Grandpa Billin's,
while from the crowd further in young
man made his way, whose rising color,
as he pressed forward, seemed to great
ly amuse his companions, one of whom
said, with sly wink; "Pelt Cressy'll
tell her the news, Gran'pa. Save yer
breath"
Hettie was about to shut the door
quickly; but the young man was too
close behind her and was soon by her
side.
"What are you a-doin' out in this
storm, HettieP" he asked, in tone OF
tender reproach.
AT got real scared about father,''
said Hettie Plunkett. Sc stood it as
long as could, and then started out.
'Tisn't far, you know, Pelt. You needn't
90 home with me. 1 amt afraid"
Law!'' said Pelt Cressy, facetiously,
"a he made her take his stout arm.
"How independent some folks are!"
And they walked on to Seth .Plunkett's
little cottage.
Mr.. Pelton Cressy and his sweetheart
would have told you that it was but q
few moments before the stage came in ;
hut the men at the store knew that i
was long hour, and were glad enough
to hear the familiar sound OF the stage
bells coming. One pair OF quick ears
heard them "down ter the bend O. the
river" and soon, with the light from a
dozen uplifted curtains in the neighbor-
hood streaming out on the snow-pow'
dered horses, and with grand flourish
of whip and rein, the stage drew up al
the Post-office door. Then Seth Plun.
kett sprang from the high drivers seat
draooing after him the big leathern
mailbags, which always seemed ridicu,
io,,sly too large to hold the Clearpond
nail and burst into the bright light and
s steam air of the long, low room.
He wore q great bear-skin overcoat,
rh;oh was white with snow, and his fur
can and the tuft of whiskers on his chin
80 still winter. Everybody cleared
tha wav before the powerful fellow, a.
he strobe to the counter and flung the
mailbag over.