Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1907-01-30
Miss James Romance



away in the black shopping bag at her
side, her frail little body trembling all
over with the novelty and excitement
of the unusual undertaking.
As she passed the Oak farm adjoin-
ing hers, Mrs. Oak and Miss Priscilla
Hunter stood in the front dooryard.
Mrs. Oak espled Dolly and her driver
from afar off, and a mischievous breeze
waited their conversation to Miss
James ears.
For the land sakes, Priscilla Hunt
err" Mrs. Oak was saying, "here
comes Jane Pease and old Dolly. Where
do you 'spose she's goin' at this hour
just dinner time, too?"
Priscilla Hunter looked in the direc-
ton indicated by her astonished neigh
Dor, and Miss Jane heard her say, Il
dunno, but pears to me there's some
thin strange a-goin' to happen to Jane
PeaSe. l saw her comm home from
the pOstOfice this mornin'-you know
she always goes just such time-and
I says-for l like to joke her-says 1,
ANY mailT' No. says she-and then
very determined like-'but I'm expect
In letter tomorrow"
Mrs. Oak threw up her parboiled
hands, with an exclamation of surprise.
Land! to my knowledge she hain't
had letter for over forty year."
With these words ringing in her
ears, the object of their conversation
passed around a curve in the road and
was lost to view. Her face blazed with
wrath. She would get even with them.
the old gossiping heather.
By the time she had reached the
spot to eat her lunch the gentle breeze
had sOothed her until she was unite
herself again. In a shady nook Just
off the main road, far enough to escape
curious passers-by, yet near enough to
be able to gain the road again at any
time, she hitched old Dolly and let her
crop the green grass and clover, while
she made herself comfortable on
smooth rock at the base Of a large
willow tree whose Overhanging branch
es half concealed her. In long deli
cious draughtS, she drank In the sweet
smells and sounds, and watched the
yellow-bOdied bumble-bees sip the honey
from the wild flowers, until she caught
sight Of the letters in the little black
bag. Mindful of her duty, she arose
reluctantly, fastened old Dol1y's bride.
and they were soon Gathering on their
way once more.
As they neared the outskirts of Over
ton, she began to grow less anxious.
She knew that mail boxes were station
ed at intervals along the main street,
and she would have to reach only the
first mail box, to accomplish her err
rand.
She had hardly entered upon the
main thOroughfare when she espied the
coveted object. She brought old Dolly
to a standstil on the opposite side Of
the street, and satchel in hand ner-
vously approached the box. 1t was
placed rather high and she had to
stand on her tip-toe to reach it. Breath
lessly, she pulled down the latch. Her
heart was humping wildly. She
dropped in one letter and hesitated.
Should she post them all that day? No
there would be a deluge of letters in
the morning. She would save the rest
for some future time. With the air Of
one who had accomplished a mighty
purpose, she picked her way across the
dusty street to the wagon, shook the
reins over old Dolly's back, and turned
her towards Polkville.
1t was growing dark when she reach
ed home. She did the chores and went
to bed but slept only at intervals dur
ing the night-a restless, troubled sleep.
There were letters, letters, everywhere!
oh, such big pile of them! All diff
ferent colored envelopes-pink, white,
blue and yellow-and by some happy
coincidence they were all addressed
to her.
The next morning she arose little re
freshed. She could hardly settle her
self over her household duties, she was
so anxious to know whether her letter
had arrived. She did not make her
accustomed visit to the postoffice in the
forenoon, for she reflected that the
letter she So longed to receive could
not possibly reach Polkville before the
moons mail. 1t would be humiliating
to find nothing there.
After the arrival of the afternoon
mail, she set forth. There were several
gathered about the delivery window
when she arrived. She walked up with
an air of confidence, but her voice trem-
bled a little as she asked the familiar
question, ANY mallT