Evening bulletin. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu, Hawaii]) 1895-1912, 1897-10-02
A DELAYED LETTER.

Lydia Spencer had never seen it so hot
or dreary at Canaan Corners before. The
blistering July day was drawing to u 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 Tho day had been
busy one In the store and to add to the
confusion Lydia had recently bought a
new set of boxes to tnke The place Of tho
dingy little portfolios which for 90 years
had done continuous service under differ
eht postmasters.
A carpenter had worked that afternoon
tearing away the old case and generally
overhaulipg the postoflice end Of the store.
Lydia was between 10 and so. "Nigh
on to 40, boin two year olier'n my hoy
jerry" old Mrs. Davidge said TO her
friends when Lydia's age was discussed.
"But, law she don't look it, an she don't
act it. Them tow headed girls never look
ez old ez they really be"
Tho carpenter stopped hammering and
oamo to where the postmistress was fan
ming herself. He was shuflling awkward
ly half u dozen letters, yellow with age
and somewhat rat eaten.
"See here, Lyddy, are these any goodp"
asked he, holding out the letters. ~ found
'eIn down behind the wainscoting.
s'pose they're Just trash what got brushed
aside an no account whatever"
The postmistress Of Canaan Corners
took the letters with but little show Of in
terest. People were always running to
her with trifles and asking her unneces.
sary questions.
Twenty i've years! Yes, 1t had boon Just
that long since she had seen John Butter.
worth-sinoe he gave her lovers look
and then, oheerily assuring her that they
would soon meet again, had gone to New
York.
Their letters had been earnest and full
Of feeling, and finally he wrote asking her
II she would marry him. telling her that
he had not boon successful In business a.
yet, but that II she said "Yes" he would
come back to Canaan Corners, and they
would 60 to Chicago.
Bravely had she penned favorable an.
swer, and then she waited. Alb, the dying
Of great hopel
How tenaciously 1t clings TO lifol How
anxiously she awaited tidings from John
Butterworthi But none came. The sum
mers came and went. Twenty-Five years
ago, and she had been thinking of John
Butterworth that dnyi
Looks eg II rats had chRwed 'em some,
don't itP" 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 shock-John Butter
worth, Bulls Head Hotel, Bowcry, N. Y.
City"
The red sun turned black. The Canaan
Corners postofIice began spinning around
and bobbing up and down. A hurricane
seemed to catch her and dash her head
against n distant cliff.
"There, there. Miss Lyddy," said the
big carpenter, tanning her with his straw
hat "The heats been too much fur 20. !
guess"
Trembling like a child she once more
looked at the letter--her own letter of ac-
ceptance-plighting her Jroth for better OF
for worse, through evil and good report.
1t seemed to her as II 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 firm woman. IN
Justice to herself she determined to make
an effort to reach John Butterworth will
the belated letter.
1t had no postmark. Taking the mark
err, she removed tho figures "0P' and sub
stituted go"
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 II fall into thu
gaping mouth of the mailbag. The stag
took 1t on its way that night
Two weeks later gray haired man, Oh,
of Chicago's leading capitalists, was on
morning opening his mail. He came to
yellowed envelope which had been for
warded from New York. 1t bore severn
rubber stamp marks, and Chicago post
Office clerk had written on It:
"Try 1851 Dearborn"
"Send Jack in" said John Butterwortl
70 his head clerk.
"Jack, my boy" said tho father in
low voice and nervously, "read this oil
letter which has been 25 years in reaching
me.
"Jack," continued the elder after hi
request had been complied with, "you vii
have to postpone your vacation I'm 60
ing to take one ut Canaan Corners, N. Y
I never expected to marry again after yon
dear mothers death, my boy, but II tn
writer Of that letter Is alive and willin
you'll have o new mother inside Of tw
weeks"
The Canaan Corners stage one ovenin
few days later carried gray haire
| straI ger.
"Ye'n find Lyddy at the postoilice, " sal
the driver. "Shes postmistress, an ever
one knows Lyddy."
Everything was still In the postoffic
when John Butterworth entered. Look
ing through the glass case, he saw golt
en- haired woman, her face close to the Il
bletop. She was resting her ayerted fac
on her forearm and sobbing like child.
| Lydia" said John Butterworuh as i
took her In his arms and raised her, "Lydii