The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1888-02-03
WHAT LEONARD WATSON FOUND IN
THE POSTOFFICE.

She was sitting in the prettiest Of bed
rooms, writing busily; sometimes the blue
eyes danced with mirth, as the rapid pen
| jotted down some odd conceit or queer ex-
presSion again she would toss back her
bright curls, and sauey smile would cross
her little mouth, as mischief hoWed from
the small golden point of her weapon One
after another, the little sheets OF note paper
were hlled with dainty characters, folded
and slipped into the snowy envelopes.
| Suddenly the pretty writer paused. Rest
ing her little dimpled chin on her hand,
she sank into reyerie; the blue eyes lost
their smiling light, the rosy mouth folded
into sweet, earnest gravity, as she sat
buried in thought.
! 'sIfI only dared, +" she whispered-'if
only dared Then, with quick impulse,
she selected sheet of paper somewhat
larger than those she had been using, and
| began to write again, not, as before, mer-
ry and careless. but with deep earnestness,
the rapid pen evidently tracing words of
grave import and weight. Once she paus
ed, and, folding her hands, raised her eyes
in prayer As she sealed the long letter,
she did what she had neglected before
directed it, in clear, pretty hand, and
then placed it carefully in her writing
desk. Again she continued her task, some
times scrap of verse, sauey quotation,
or even al address, filled the sheet, but
oftener little graceful note was written
and folded She was still busy, when
laughing voices in the hall made her pause.
Come right up, girls am in my
ROOM she called
And in answer to the summons four gay
bellies of Claireville came dancing INTO the
room, with 'How many have you written,
Amy?"
COB, ever SO manyi I don't know. Let
me see yours.
And shower of snowy billets fell from
eight white hands into her lap, while the
four girls eagerly opened ard read the
missves upon the table.
"We've sold every ticket, said Leonore
Darcy, tile brunette, whose charms had set
"All!' said Amy THE hall will be
packed
Eyes" said pretty Mabel Lee, 'tand
everybody says the post office will be the
most attractive feature of onr fair. l am
so glad you suggested it, Amy Aud if it
was late, we've got good pile of letters
written
"There," said Amy, signing note with
| "Gabriella.' in the most minute charac-
tiers, there's MY last sheet Of paper and
my last ounce of brains I'm utterly ex-
| hausted!''
But, Amy, you won't feel exhausted
tomorrow, said demure Susy Jones,
''when we hand dear Mr.. Rivers nice
sum of money to help him rebuild the par
sonage."
"That dreadful fret said Amy, shud-
dering. Mother says she don't approve
of fairs generally; but when ones minister
is burned out, and the money won't come
in fast any other way, why. she'll bake
cakes and make pineushions with the best
of u.s.
"And then, you kaow," said Mabel,
earnestly. "there will be no railing or
cheating, and the articles are all pretty,
and good Of their kind
"Girls, is it not time to dress?" said
Susy, consulting a wee watch at her belt.
"We open at seven
| "The tables are all ready
''Trle, bnt it is after five now, and every
| body wants time for at least one extra
touch of their finery, when they must face
all Claireville.
Scatter them said Amy, laughing.
| ''Run home all Of you! Leave the letters
here; will take care of them, am to be
postmistress, you know"
"Not bit of it," said Leonora. "You
are only to sit in the background and direct
the envelopes, which | will deliver to
anxious inquirers."
"Whewl how important we arel" was
the merry answer. Aud the laughing
group dispersed.
The large hall of Clairevile was brilliant
" Illuminated when, two hours later, the
young girls announced all in readiness for
opening the doors. The pretty tables,
tasteful decorations, and groups of lovely
girls made no mean picture, and Claire
Vile walked about, admired, aud above
ALL purchased to the full content of the
fair originators OF the entertainment.
Hidden away from sight by the full folds
of a cnrtain Amy sat shrined in the post
office, answering Leonora' S call for letters.
Busy excitement had flushed her fair cheeks,
and as her pen traced familiar names,
one after another, smiles chased each
other over lips and eyes. Suddenly a call
from Nora made her turn Eale; her fingers
trembled as she drew from her bosom the
letter she had written with prayer. 1t
was fully directed, yet she hesitated, hold
ing it as if reluctant to let it go.
Come, Amy, Is there nothing for Mr..
Leonard Watson ?" cried Lenora
The letter was slipped through the APP
pointed place in the curtain, and Amy
drew a quick breath of apprehension as
she heard The manly voice that said,
Thank you, Miss Darcy"
'sIf he is angryn she whispered elf lie