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Updated: May 6, 2025
He expressed the public opinion, for even Seth, the guide, regretfully came to the conclusion that the tyrant of the West Branch had "backed down" the city men by his belligerent reception of their emissary. But soon after the first of January the postmaster's daily paper brought some further news. The state legislature had assembled in biennial session that winter.
One night as Mary was going to bed, she heard someone knocking hard at the door. "Mary, are you up? let us in," cried a voice, which she knew to be the voice of Betsy Green, the postmaster's daughter, who lived in the village near them. She let Betsy in, and asked what she could want at such a time of night. "Give me sixpence, and I'll tell you," said Betsy; "but waken Anne and Peggy.
There was much talk and wonder in Silverton when it was known that Katy had come home to stay until her husband returned from the war, and at first the people were inclined to gossip and hint at some mystery or possible estrangement; but this was brought to an end when the postmaster's wife told of a letter which had come to Mrs.
The greater excitement had obliterated all memory of the less: not a soul seemed to recollect the famous controversy, the postmaster's campaign against detractors, his long absence or his brilliant success. Kibworth Rocks, the drawn blinds of the Abbey House, the decorations of the Abbey Church these were the only things that Rodchurch could now think of, or talk about.
Perhaps it was the force of this feeling which made him add, with a curious energy, "I give you my word, Monsieur le Cure." At that moment the door opened and Jo entered. "M'sieu'," he said to Charley, "a registered parcel has come for you. It has been brought by the postmaster's daughter. She will give it to no one but yourself." Charley's face paled, and the Cure's was scarcely less pale.
The direction to Grosvenor-square, London, had been scratched out; and it had been re-directed by Sir Terence to the Lord Viscount Colambre, at Sir James Brooke's, Bart., Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, or elsewhere, with speed, "But the more haste the worse speed; for away it went to Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, where I knew, if any where, you was to be found; but, as fate and the post would have it, there the letter went coursing after you, while you were running round, and back, and forwards, and every where, I understand, to Toddrington and Wrestham, and where not, through all them English places, where there's no cross-post: so I took it for granted that it found its way to the dead-letter office, or was sticking up across a pane in the d d postmaster's window at Huntingdon, for the whole town to see, and it a love-letter, and some puppy to claim it, under false pretence; and you all the time without it, and it might breed a coolness betwixt you and Miss Nugent."
The postmaster's wife was surprised that Marie took so early a promenade, which might in Autumn, prove injurious to a young girl's health. She brought the Somovar, and with her cup of tea was going to relate one of her interminable stories, when a carriage with the imperial escutcheon stopped before the door.
Now, Roger, you know that no pill small enough to swallow could cure a big pain like this in my back. The postmaster's wife had the rheumatiz last Winter, and she took over five quarts of Old Doctor Jameson's Pain Killer, and it never did her a mite of good. What do you think a paper that size, full of pills, can do for a person that ain't able to stand up without screechin'?"
On Saturdays, the farmers enlivened the commercial atmosphere of Plattville; and Miss Tibbs, the postmaster's sister and clerk, used to make a point of walking up and down Main Street as often as possible, to get a thrill in the realization of some poetical expressions that haunted her pleasingly; phrases she had employed frequently in her poems for the "Carlow County Herald."
The sufferer gently expostulated, saying, "Pray, Sir, don't; I am lame." Whereupon Berkley desisted, and began instead to shake the Postmaster's wife by the shoulders, and order his dinner in English. But all this was done so good-naturedly, and with such a rosy, laughing face, that no offence was taken.
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