The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1900-03-29
Mrs. Middlerib'S Letter
Story Of o Wife Who Exasperated
Her, Husband Internationally.


Mr.. Middlerib paused with his coffee
cup raised half way to his lips, as his
wife took the letter from the servant.
She turned it over once or twice,
gazed earnestly at the address, and
said:
"I wonder who it can be from?' She
looked at the stamp.
81 can't make out the postmark," Mrs.
Middlerib said, carefully studying that
guide to the authorship of letters. 1T
isn't Perrysville. 1t looks something like
Tonawanda, but don't know anybody
In Tonawanda. wonder if it isn't in
tended for York? Cousin Ann Jackson
used to visit in York. Why don't they
make the postmark palmer, wonder?
believe it's indianapolis, after all!
Then it's from Eleanor Mcpherson,
whose husband you met last summer
in Canada. 1t isn't Indianapolis; it's
Lacon. That's where Lilias Marshall
lives. That isn't an L, either. No; it's
New Philadelphia, Ills. l can make
| 1t out now. Don't you remember? Uncle
Abner Beasix went out there in the
| grindstone business. l wonder If any
thing has-oh, pshaw, it's-what is it?
| It's r.; R-o-m-oh, now see-R-o-m-e,
| Rome. Why, 1t 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.
"It was received here at o'clock
this morning." she said finally. Now,
i where would O. letter have to come
from to get here at o'clock? If you
knew that, we could tell where 1t came
from."-
"Let me look at it." said Mr.. Middle
rib, who was beginning to fidget with
impatience.
ssNo," replied the wife, turning back
to the postmark once more. Il can see
what It is now. It's Spartansburg, Ky.
Sarah Blanchard went there after she
married. | expect she wants to- II
isn't Spartansburg, either; it's Gridley
That's where Cousin jamie Buskirk
lives. Her husband went out there and
bought q grist mill. l wonder If she's
coming on this summer? l hope, if she
does, she won't bring the children. But
1t isn't from her, either. l think that il
Is Mount Pleasant-oh! it's from Aunt
Harriet Murdoch, and know they've
all been killed in that dreadful cyclone
can't open the letter, my hand trem
bles So Do you know the last thing
said to her when she moved out west
said 1t isn't Mount Pleasant, Ell
ther. There are only five letters in it
I can't make anything out of it."
Perhaps" said Mr.. Middlerib, with
q slight tinge of sarcasm in his infiec
tion-'perhaps we'd better send after
the carrier who brought it. He may
know"
r"But it Is so tantalizing," complained
Mrs. Middle1ib, "to receive letter and
then not be able to tell who or where Il
Is from"
ibid you ever try opening letter tt
ascertain these facts?" asked her hus
band.
The lady looked at him with an ex
preston of speechless disdain upon hel
features and half whispered, "If tina
isn't like man." as though any won
an ever looked into q letter until sh'
had guessed all round her circle o.
relatives and friends and clear through
the United States postal guide to decide
whence and from whom it came.
This particular postmark, however
was too "blind" for the most ingenious
expert to decipher, and at last, with ,
, deep sigh and little gesture Of despair
, Mrs. Middlerib yielded to the inevita
, BILE and resignedly opened the letter
, pausing once or twice in the act, how
ever, to look longingly back at the tan
talizing postmark.
"At last" groaned her husband, WIN
by this time was burning uD with curl
osity. >'s ..' -
} But she laid the envelope down an,
, looked at it,.a little while before sh
, turned to the unfolded letter in he
hand.
Her husband, by; a desperate effor
controlled his rising wrath, and in 3,
voice hoarse and strained besough
her to read the letter, as it was late
and he should have been down tow
, half an hour ago.
J She did not answer. She opened tn
l letter, turned the first page to look 70
, the end of it, went back to the frs
page, settled herself in an easy posi-
ton and said: =
"Well will declarep' Then she reat
on in silence and Mr.. Middlerib groun,
his teeth. Presently she said:
Finn
. She read three or four more line
with eager eyes and noiseless lips, an
suddenly exclaimed:
"I don't believe it,"
Then she resumed her voiceless pe