Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 23, 2025
You saw her running down the road; I saw her come, watched her, and saw her go. She is a thief pretty Rosalie thief and postmistress! No doubt she takes letters too." "The ones you wait for, and that never come eh?" Her face darkened with rage and hatred. "I will tell the world she's a thief," she sneered. "Who will believe you?" "You will."
Each time he had asked for a letter he took his place at the end of the waiting-line and patiently bided his time for the chance of an extra word with the postmistress. "They’ve begun to lose hope, Texas." She shuffled the letters impartially, as a goddess dispensing fate, and barely glanced at the man who had ridden a hundred and fifty miles across sand and cactus to see her.
There was a vague belief that it went about fifteen miles and "caught" something somewhere; but nobody knew for certain, except the postmistress and the mail-cart driver, who were always remarkably reticent on the point. The driver was dressed in red, carried a long horn slung at the side of the cart, and was popularly believed also to have pistols with him.
"You can order a pound of carrot tea and some lollypops," answered his mother, and then Billy Bunny picked up his striped candy cane and set off for the village, and by and by he came to the post office and the nice lady postmistress called to him that there was a letter there addressed to Billy Bunny, Old Brier Patch, but what was written in it I'm not going to tell you now, for I must stop and play a game of pinochle with dear, kind Uncle Lucky, who just telephoned me to come over to his house and have a game with him this evening, and I mustn't keep him waiting another minute.
I am going to send a telegram." They retraced their steps in silence. As they entered the telegraph-office Andrew was just leaving, and the postmistress was wishing him a respectful farewell. He touched his hat as the two entered, and stepped on one side. Jeanne, however, held out her hand. "Mr. Andrew," she said, "I am so glad to see you. I want to go out again in that great punt of yours.
In this anxiety for news I begged that my letters might be forwarded under cover to the postmistress at Shoxford, and bearing my initials. For now I had made up my mind to let Mrs. Busk know whatever I could tell her. I had found her a cross and well-educated woman, far above her neighbors, and determined to remain so.
Uncle James won't sell land on our side. Look out, Billy! Our rector lives in that small house by the church. His name is Mark Rivers. You'll like him. That's Mr. Grace, the Baptist preacher." She bade him good-day. "Stop, Billy!" He pulled up at the sidewalk. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Crocker," she said, as the postmistress came out to the sleigh. "Please mail this. Any letters for us?" "No, Leila."
He has not been able to write to me yet, but I do not think I ought to wait until he asks me." Cissie was afraid to interfere with this. After a time Letty grew impatient at the delay in getting any address and took her first parcel to the post office. "Unless you know what prison he is at," said the postmistress. "Pity!" said Letty. "I don't know that. Must it wait for that?
It was a rare grueling that Donna gave Miss Pickett; the pity of it was that Mr. Hennage could not have been there to listen to it. The postmistress was confounded. She could think of nothing to say in reply until the right moment for saying it had fled; and her pride forbade her acknowledging defeat by tossing her head and walking out with a grand air of injured innocence.
Then Mary saw that the object spinning across it in the distance, hardly bigger than a doll’s carriage, was the long-delayed stage. She spoke to the postmistress, but apparently she did not hear—Judith was watching the nearing stage as if it might bring some message of life and death. She stood still, and the drooping lines of her figure straightened, every fibre of her beauty kindled.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking