Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1893-07-28

oOtton VI lneJ pay SJauuS UP IKE lney
might be-"
Mr.. Shattuc took the sack by its bottom
ridge and shook it, "You see?" he said,
with sort of gloomy pride.
She gathered her shawl about her head
without word, and turned and went out,
and the door changed behind her.
The man on the barrel observed the
hairy back of his hand with an air of i'm
partial criticism. "Td put my hull terbac-
Ger crop on it tibet she won't never hear arr
word of Jim Crawford agin." He said
this slowly.
Mart Type laughed, his booted legs wav-
ing in the air as he tilted himself back
against the wall. slim, he was a great
one" he commented; "fine-lookin' Teller,
Jim. Always got me tibet he ever paid
'tentions to Sa' Jane; nothin % look at,
Sa' Jane amt
"Nou don't know no more bout looks
then tadpole does about honey" argued
the postmaster. "Sa' James a cookbook
in gyrl an good cyril. Too good for Jim
Crawford, curnfounded young rooster |
wisht he never showed his face hereabouts
turnin' gyrls' heads with his high-colored
necktes and fine talk. 'Cuz he happened
to run the engine from here to Waynes-
vile, he jest natchelly 'peared TO set hisse'f
cfar up over country boys" He wiped
his brows. "Whar-at did he 90 from
here? Blame eff l don't feel like writin
him piece of my mind"
The man on the barrel gave a cluck of
approval. "Firs' trate idy," he comment
ed, slapping his knee. otis so. Say,
uncle; jest you write N tell him what
Casey county thinks of a Teller like him.
Go on, uncler'
"Blame eff l don't feel like it," unused
Mr.. Shattuc, bewildered and charmed with
the success of his notion. "Any one
know whar letter'd reach him? He got
run on the Queen m Crescent, didn't
he! Look like l got the Idly off'n some O.
you boys" He glanced at the others with
challenge in his eye.
'Reckon twas me named it, admitted
Mart Type, cutting casing of dry mud
from his boot sole with jack knife. eyes,
| low | told you. He got run to Nash
vile, | believe; three months ago come
mex Chuesdy. Heb! Day he left, him
and me was takin somethin' together, man
and man, and Jim he says-sof spoken
Teller, Jim-'Mart,' he says. I'm kinduh
sorry I'm leavin' this town. he says, 'and
yit kinduh glad. I'm a greet favoryte on
Deadwood,' says he. Folks here is Jest
my style, lbut I'm kinduh 'fear'd Sa Jane
Swett's gittn' too-well, it's this way she
likes me mighty well, Sa' Jane does, and
I'm sof' hearted coon, l am. D'know
but I'd ask her to set the day eff / ketched
her looSin' at me the ways she does some
times out'n them big eyes-can't tell. m
a soft-hearted feller Mart
"'Well,' says l, 'ef you like her so well,
why don't you asst her to hev you? She's
right sweet gyrl Sa' Jane is
"'Uck-uh, says jim; my wife's got to
be eddercated and book-rarned,' says he.
4 look high, Mart; my wife's got to know
how to read N write. No, Mart, he says;
Il best make this new run. Sa' Jane she'll
forgit me arter a spell. Nice cyril, Sa'
Jane, but not eddercated. J."
Mr.. Shattuc came down on this narrative
with sound remarkably like an oath.
I'm goin' to write that letter" he roared,
''ef it's the last lick l pull in on top o.
yearth. Whar-at's tibet pen used to be
round hyar? I'm goin' to tell tibet set-up
young calf of a engineer what plain folks
tibet eats fat meat the year round thinks
of him. 'Eddercated' nothin'! Sa' Jane
was eddercated enough to know when she
was ben' made love to, l reckon. A wom-
an don't need no more rarnin' then thet"
The letter thus projected was not, how
ever, finished In so short order as the heat
ed state of its author feelings would seem
to promise. Mr.. Shattuc's spiritual forces
had to work against the material resistance
of an unaccustomed hand, thick ink and a
pen weighted with the rust of years. 1t
was, accordingly, a day or so before the
matter was brought to completion, and the
postmaster found himself in the proud pO-
sition of reading aloud to his friends the
letter which was to bear to Jim Crawford
the impartial expression of his former
neighbors' opinion of him.
~. Crawferd"-so the paper began
"Me and some of the folks down here that
knows you want you should know you Bet
ter not show yourself round here no more
lest you want to find what plane folks thinks
about Rascals and skampes if we got you
Ded wrong none of us but wantes to
do thee square by you Miss SWEET she
thinks rite smart of you why haint you rote
to Her am sick of my job becus no mail
don't come for Miss SWEET if a letter was
to come for Miss SWEET Me and the others
would be Nifty proud tO.change our Hidy
of you Rite soon yours truely Joel Shat
tue Postmaster and Others"
"Tm goin' to stick it in a nvelup," said
Mr.. Shattuc, to carry off his embarrassed
appreciation of the applause which greet
ed this effort, land back it like this: y
Crawford Engineer care Queen 81 Crescen'
railroad C'mp.y pies hand to Party adj
dress Onbeknown.'
In this wise the letter was sent its way,
and the town had a period of breathless
expectancy as to its probable results. On
the sixth day after its sending, a large en-
velope, with some printing across one end,
fell out of the mail sack, addressed in type
writer characters to Joel Shattuc.
"Boys," said the postmaster, solemnly,
''it's come! This is it, y gum from the
general office. HyaI, you folks" address
ing gaping thrOng of children sent for
the mail-"git along home! Mail wont be
distriberted till long todes night. I'm
busy. Cpar Quit"
He set ponderOus pair of spectacles on
the bridge of his nose, which closed upon
the wire-like small toothless jaws. 1t was
apparently quite short letter, yet the |
matter of it seemed strangely forcible, for |
those who watched the postmaster observed |
that his mouth opened and hung lax as he |
read, and that his hands jerked as he held |
the paper close, and then at arms length, |
as if he strove to focus his reasoning pow |
ers.
Lord God ha' mercyw he gasped, TAX !
ing the sweat from his temples with the |
ball of his hand. Listen to this: