Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1883-04-25
MRS. MIDDLERiB,S LETTER.


earnestly at the address and said:
II wonder who it can be fromP"
She looked at the stamp, but the
picture of the good George Washington,
bis vissage sadly married by the rude
impress Of the canceling stamp, made
no sign.
IL can't mako out the postmark,"
Mrs. Middlerib said, carefully studying
that guide to the authorship of letters.
Z" 1t isn't Perryville; it looks something
like Tonawanda, but don't know any
body in Tonawanda. wonder if it ism t
intended for York; Cousin Hiley Ann
jackson used TO visit in York. Why
don't they make the postmarks palmer,
wonderp / believe its Indianapolis,
after all. Then its from Eleanor Nc
Pherson whose husband you met last
summer in Canada. 1t isn't Indianap-
oils, it's Lacon; that's where Silas
Mashall lives. That isn't an l., either.
No, its New Philadelphia, Illinois; l
can make it out now; don'tyou remom-
berP Uncle Abner Beasix went out
there in the grindstone business.
wonder if anything has-oh pshaw, it
isn't New Philadelphia, either; it's
what is ftp It's II; R-o-m-Oh now l
see, Rome, Rome. Why, it must be
from-Oh dear me, it isn't Rome,
either. can't make it out at ALL"
And she turned it over and looked
mournfully at the receiving stamp on
the back.
at was received here at seven
o'clock this morning." she said, finally.
"Now, where would letter have to
come from to get here at seven o. clockp
II you knew that, we could tell where
it came from"
LET me look at it," said Mr.. Mid
dlerib, who was beginning to fdget
with impatiencc.
mo-" replied his wife. turning back
to the post-mark once more. - can
see what it is now. It's Spartansburg,
Ky. Sarah Blanchard went there after
she married. expect she wants to
it isn't Spartansburg, either, it's Grid
ley. That's where Cousin Jennie Bus
kirk lives; her husband went out there
and bought grist mill. 1 wonder if
she's coming out this SUMMER / hope
if she does she won't bring the chill
dren. But it isn't from her, either 1
think that is Mount Pleasant-Oh! It's
from Aunt Harriet Murdoch, and i
know they've all been killed by that
dreadful cyclone. l can't open the
letter, my hand trembles so. Do you
know, the last thing said to her when
she moved out West, L said--It isn't
Mount Pleasant, either; there are only
five letters in it. l can't make any
thing out of it."
Perhaps" said Mr.. Middlerib, with
a slight tinge of sarcasm in his inflec-
ton, "perhaps we'd better send after
the carrier who brought it. He may
know"
but it is so tantalizing," complained
Mrs. Middlerib, Ito receive q letter
and then not be able to tell who or
where il is from"
"Did you ever try opening letter to
ascertain these factsp" asked her hus-
band.
The lady looked at him with an
expression of speeches. disdain upon
her features, and half whispered: If
that isn't like man." as though apy
woman ever looked into letter until
she had guessed all around her circle of
relatives and friends and clear through
the United States Postal Guide, 10
decide whence and from whom it
came.
This particular post mark, however,
was too blind" for the most ingenious
expert to decipher, and at last, with a
sigh and little gesture of despair, Mrs.
Middlerib yielded to the inevitable, and
resignedly opened the letter, pausiDg
once or twice in the act, however, to
look longingly back at the tantalizing
post mark.
"At last" groaned her husband who
by this time was burning up with Curl
osity.
But she laid down the envelope and
looked at it little while before she
turned to the unfolded letter in her
hand. Her husband by desperate eff
fort controlled his rising wrath, and,
in voice harsh and strained, besought
her to read the letter, as il was late
and he should have been down town
half an hour ago.
She did not answer. She opened the
letter, turned the first page to look for
the end of it, went back to the first
page. settled herself in an easy posi-
tion, and said:
Well, l will declare -
Then she read on in silence, and Mr..
Middlerib ground his teeth. Presently
she said:
HIM"
She read three or four more lines
with eager eyes and noiseless lips, and
suddenly exclaimed:
az don't believe itr'
Then she resumed her voiceless Pc
rusal of the document, and q moment
later astonshed her husband by look
ing up at him and asking:
81 wonder il that is so?'
Mr.. Middlerib replied in hooking
tones that it must be or the postmark
wouldn't have said so; but her eyes
were glued to the page on cc more and
she made no response.
"OhP she fairly shrieked, "did you
everp'
The writhing man at the other end
of the table said he never had but he
would, if this intellectual entertainment
lasted much longer
'Its too bad" murmurcd Mrs. Mid
dlerib, turning page OF the letter with
out raising her eyes.
Well, what's too badp' he broke
out, wrathfully. "Who is the letter
from and what is it all aboutp Either
read aloud or make your comments as
mentally as you read"
i've half mind to CO." she said in
firm decided tones.
"Oh, have your" he interjected,
with mild sarcasm, "shall l 90 pack
your trunks while you finish that let
terp"
II don't see how they can do it,"
she said, after an interval of silence.
why don't you look at the post
mark. thenp" he growled. Maybe
that would tell you"
She read on, silent and unimpressed,
for two or three lines further, and then
with an exclamation of astonishment,
said: