Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1897-08-19
A DELAYED LETTER.

Lydia Spencer had never seen it so hot
or dreary at Canaan Corners before. The
blistering July day was drawing 20 close.
She was postmistress and store clerk at
the Corners. Day after day for years she
had sorted over the stage mails, the county
papers and the letters. The day had been
a busy one In the store, and to add to the
confusion Lydia had recently bought
new set of boxes to sake the place Of the
lingy little portfolios which for 20 years
had done continuous service under differ
/ ent postmasters.
A carpenter had worked that afternoon
/ tearing away the old case and generally
/ oyerhauling the possoliice end of the store.
! Lydia was between 20 and 80. Nigh
/ on to IS, bein two year older'n my boy
jerry" old Mrs. Dayidge said to her
friends when Lydias age was discussed.
"But, law she don't look it, an she don't
act it. Them tOyy headed girls never look
ez old ez they really BE. 90
The carpenter stopped hammering and
camo TO where the p0stmistress was fan
ming herself. lie was shutting awkward
ly half q dozen letters, yellow with age
and somewhat rat eaten.
See here, Iytldy, are these any gocd|'
asked he, holding out the letters. Il found
'eIn down behind the wainscoting. l
s'pose they re iusT trash what got brushed
aside an no account " hatSver. ="
The postmistross of Canaan Corners
took the letters with bat little show OF in
terest People woTo always running to
her with trifles and asking her unneces-
sary questions.
Twenty five years Yes. it had been just
that long since she had seen John Butter
worth-sinco he gave her a levers look
and then, cheerily assuring her that they
would soon meet again, had gone to New
York
Their letters had hcen earnest ard full
of feeling, and finally he wrote asking her
If she would marry him. telling her that
he had not been successful In business as
yet, but that If she said 60 Yes he would
come back to Canaan Corners, and they
would go to Chicago
Bravely had she penned a favorable an
swer, and then she waited. All, the dying
of great hopei
How tenaciously it clings TO life! How
anxiously she awaited tidings from John
Butterworth But mono came. The sum-
mers came and went. twenty-five years
ago, and she had been thinking of John
Butterworth that day
Looks ez If rats had Ghawed 'em some,
don't it?" asked the carpenter as Lydia
stepped closer to, the window TO inspect the
musty letters. The very first one of the
lot gave her senses a shock-John Butter
worth, Bulls Head Hotel, Bowery, \. Y.
City"
The red sun turned black. The Canaan
Corners postoff1ce began spinning around
and bobbing up and down. A hurricane
seemed to catch her and dash her head
against distant clli&
"There, there. Miss Lyddy," said the
big carpenter, tanning her with his straw
hat 1.-THE heats been too much fur ye, l
guess"
Trembling like a child, she once more
looked at the letter-her own letter of ac-
ceptance-plighting her troth for better or
for worse, through evil and good report.
1t seemed to her as If her heart would
burst in agony. She knew now why John
Butterworth had never come back. She
had appeared to him as unwilling to share
his fortunes.
Lydia Spencer was u firm woman. In
justice to herself she determined to make
an effort to reach John Butterworth with
the belated letter.
1t had no postmark. Taking the mark
er, she removed the figures ''94" and sub
stituted 800. -
Then, writing note to the proprietor
of the Bulls Head hotel, New York city,
she told him to forward the letter to Chi
cago Nervously she let it fall into the
gaping mouth of the mailbag. The stage
took it on its way that night
Two weeks later gray haired man, one
of Chicagos icading capitalists, was one
morning opening his mail. He came to a
yellowed envelope which had been for
warded from New York. 1t bore several
rubber stamp marks, and a Chicago post
Office clerk had written on it:
"Try 36l Dearborn.
"Send Jack in, said John Butterworth
TO his head clerk.
"Jack, my boy" said the father in a
low voice and nervously, "read this old
letter which has been 90 years in reaching
me.
Jack, +" continued tho elder after his
request had been complied with, "you will
have to postpone your vacation. I'm 60
ing to take one at Canaan Corners, n. Y.
never expected to marry again after your
doar mothers death, my boy, but if the
writer of that letter is alive and willing
you'll have new mother inside of two
weeks"
The Canaan Corners stage one evening
a few days later carried gray haired
stranger.
"Ye'll find Lyddy at the postoffice, said
the driver. "Shs's postmistress, an every
one knows Lyddy."
Everything was still in the postofice
when John Butterworth entered. Look |
ing through the glass case, he saw gold
en- haired woman, her face close to the ia
bletop. She was resting her ayerted face
ON her forearm and sobbing like child.
Lydia" said John Butterworth as he |
took her in his arms and raised her, Lydia,
sweetheart, didn't get the letter till three |
days ago in Chicago. I'm so old and gray |
now l suppose you're sorry 1 got 1t at all,
eh?'
her tears. Her blushing, radiant face |
didn't look as if she was sorry.-Exchange. |
No Resnscfep of Prrsons