Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1883-07-07

lnale anu l. are gong. Can you do it
for me if 1 put up?"0
The saddler thought for a moment.
cay, l can do that he said. at
length. @NWill you call in between
eight and nine and it shall be ready for
you"
l agreed, shook up the mare, and, a
few yards further down, turned in
through the narrow gateway of the An
gel into the dim, deserted inward.
From a single half-open doorway came
a stream of light. A figure issued forth
in answer to my summons.
"Good evening, Mr.. Tom," said this
mares neck.
"Hallo, Jack! is that youp" said 1,
as | drew the reins through my fingers
and %aligghted, recognizing, as / did so,
MIR. Jack Plover, to whom was intrusted
the important duty of conveying the
Queens mail-bags from Worthington
to the railway town. you'll have to
wrap up warm tonight"
cay! bitter cold, that it u.s." answered
Jack, undoing the traces. "But, law
bless me! I'm used to it. If only I'd
got as good thing between nv Shafts
as you have here, I'd think nothing of
a seventeen-mile drive, I do assure YOU,
s.r."
your old pony isn't to be despised,
either" said I, holding up the shaft
while Jack drew" the mare out. "a new
pair of forelegs and sound bellows
would improve him, but except for
swell, he isn't quite Newmarket or
Doncaster, I do confess" said Jack,
leading the mare in through the open
doorway and putting her in a vacant
stall. "But he's good enough for his
work. [ start early and we take it easy.
You won't have the collar off, sir?"
"No," 1 said. 81 am off again in an
hour or so. Will you have a drink,
Jack?"
We crossed the yard, passed through
a swing door, and found ourselves in.
the warm, cheerful bar, where the
bright light made us wink after the
darkness outside, and the huge fire sent
a leaping, ruddy glare on the red cur
tains, and a reflection that danced mer-
rily on the trim rows of bottles and
glasses. The barmaid, buXom and
f~resh-colored, smiled a welcome, and
rewarded my compliments on her pink
ribbons and the roses in her cheeks BY
$50 along with you," and a couple
of glasses of steaming whisky-and-
water.
There was only n other occupant
OF the bar, a stranger to me. He was
a man apparently verging on forty,
buttoned up in a shabby great-coat, and
with his hat so slouched over his eyes
that his features were hard to be dis
cerned. To the salutation which L gave
him on entering, he made no reply, but
with arms folded, gazed fxedly on the
floor.
"My service, SIR" says Jack, raising
the tumbler to his lips and taking of
the contents at a draught. s.That's the
stuff to keep the cold out. Although
this is a bit too early. I ought to have
waited until eight o'clock, just before I
started"
"You AN have another then, if you
like" said /, with q laugh.
ebay, SIR" demonstrated Jack. 81
didn't mean that. Is the clock right,
miss?" he inquired of the barmaid.
"Then l must be going about my
work." he added, receiving an answer
in the affirmative. "Good night, sir,
and thank you kindly"
And Jack Plover, who was a sport
i%ng-looking figure with his Queens liv-
cry and 'clean-shaven> face, touched his
hat politely and passed through the
swing door.
The man with the slouched hat looked
up as he left, and, addressing nobody
in particular, inquired in harsh, rough
| voice, with a queer burr in it:
"What time does the post go out
here?"
cat eight O'clock" replied the bar
maid, looking at her interrogation with
no particular favor. s'That is the dri-
yer of the mail-cart who has just left"
$50 1 Judged" replied the man,
table. "Is that right? Goodnight to
you"
And with a heavy, sloaching gait, he
strobe to the door and was gone.
After tea in the half-lit coffee-room
and a pipe in the bar, with the barmaid
to tell me the gossip, I started at about
half-past eight, called at the saddler's,
put my saddle under the seat, and set
out for home. As we passed the black
smiths forge at the end of the street
there was a pony being shod, and MI.
Jack Plover, in a big great-ooat, was
looking on at the process.
s'Cast a shoe, MI. Tom, and had to
turn back" he called out as [ passed by.
Out into the country, looking doubly
black and dismal by contrast with the
cheerful light and warmth that we
were leaving behind; with the slanting
rain driving full in ones face, so that
it dazzled the sight; with gray piles of
cloud hurrying overhead; with a veil OF
mist and darkness blending hurdle and
h~edge-row, field and tree, into a vague,
indistinct, gray mass. The road is
muddy, and, albeit the high-road,. in
bad condition; but the little mare has
got her head ~homeward, and pulls her
hardest toward warm stable and we'll
stocked rack, and the society of heavy
Dobbin and his brethren. Not that my
little hunter is to be permitted to pull
herself to pieces through ruts and over
ill-laid stones, for there is Saturday in
prospect, and with the country IN this