Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1901-11-07
A POSTAL DELIVERY.
AN INCIDENT OF REVOLUTIONARY
DAYS IN CONNECTICUT.

4
tiers after the establishment of rura!
free delivery in Mansfield, Conn. re.
called to an aged lady of that town a
postal incident remembered in her
family for 120 years. my mother al
ways cried when she told the story
she said.
| When my mother was little girl
the narrator went on, to have ones let.
tiers regularly brought and handed in
at the door would have seemed O
miracle of privilege, and to get them
| without paying postage would have
| been another. Mails were so slow and
| uncertain that the safe arrival of an
expected letter by any means was an
event in country family, with the
| postoffice miles away.
| Sometimes the delivery waa helped
along by volunteer carriers farmer
going home from the grist mill, a
housewife returning from market town
with her bargains of lamp oil, West
India molasses and green tea, or even
passing peddler with his load of tin
ware and corn brooms. In the old war
time the army had post riders, but
they were few and far between.
My grandfather was a soldier of the
Revolution. and grandmother kept the
home fire burning here, and provided
for their three children as well as she
could while he was at the front All
summer she had heard no word of him,
and when one autumn day man in a
military cloak rode to the door on a
white horse her heart beat quick.
Does Ruth Fuller live here?" he
says, holding thick letter in his hand.
Eyes, am Ruth Fuller" and grand
mother reached eagerly for the letter,
bands handwriting.
'The postage is shillin's.''
Grandmother's countenance fell, for
there wasn't so much money in the
house.
Guess you don't know me-" remark
ed the man, opening his cape and tip
ping back his cooked hat, but still hold
ing the letter. She knew him then-an
enemy capable of mean revenge.
"Ah, yes, you remember Tom Turner
and how he asked you to marry him
and you give him No, thankee,' and
took John Fuller. wasn't good enough
to marry We, but I'm good enough now
to bring We letters from the man that
did, and Pm good enough to charge ye
steep price for goin' out O. my way.
So hand over your 2 shillin's and take
your letter."
The poor woman told him she had no
money. To be held up in this heartless
and Insulting way was bitter hurt to
her. Her grief was deeper than her
resentment, but she was too proud to
let the cruel fellow see her weep.
II will get you a good dinner" she
said. land feed your horse and give
you pair of nice long stockings"
1t was humiliation to plead with
Tom Turner, but she could do no less.
Money or nothin'," he says. and he
put the letter in his pocket and rode
away.
Grandmother went into the house
and sat down and cried, and her chill
dren. clinging about her, cried too.
! During her long months Of waiting, at
odd hours she had spun and woven
| cloth and scwed garments and knitted
| wooden stockings for Johns winter
comfort. trusting to find some way to
send them to him. Now the messenger
had come and gone who could at least
have carried word, and he had refused
| even to give her her husbands letter.
Ma, God knows what the bad man
did," sobbed one of the little ones.
He knows what nice things you've
made for pa, and he'll send good man
| next time"
The baby's thought relieved the moth
er's despair, and the three lonely hearts
prayed and waited anxiously for the
next time," and, sure enough, before
winter came they saw the same white
horse galloping toward the house. Hes
brought the letter back!" they all cried
out together, for they believed the rid
er to be the same man.
Grandmother rushed from the door
with all her children. The horseman
held out the same letter. and as he
gravely put 1t into her hands she
glanced up to his face and screamed
for joy.
John! 1t is you!"
1t did not take her husband long to
tell the rest of the story. Tom Turner
had returned to headquarters, and one
night, made talkative by an extra ra-
ton of rum, he had Dragged how he
got even" with an old sweetheart
who Tilted him. His exploit reached
the ears Of his commanding officer,
who took away his commission and
put my grandfather in his place. The
new post rider had brought his own
letter to his wife. 1t was the first rural
free delivery in Mansfield town.
Youths Companion.
all druggists sell Or. Miles Nerve Plasters