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The English Government probably has a good sized representation, as it maintains its own postoffice. The city itself is the main sight. The only ruins I saw were those of an old castle on the hill back of the city. The reputed tomb of Polycarp is over this hill from Smyrna, between two cypress trees, but I do not know that I found the correct location.
They jogged up the main street of Trumet until they reached the little three-cornered "square" which is the business center of the village. Next beyond the barbershop, which is two doors beyond the general store and postoffice, was a little one-story building, weather-beaten and badly in need of paint. The captain steered his "craft" up to the sidewalk before this building and pulled up.
One must be well posted on his route when touring Britain or he will pass many things of note in sublime ignorance of their existence. Even the road-book is not an infallible guide, for we first knew that we were passing through Chawton when the postoffice sign, on the main street of a straggling village, arrested our attention.
Old Bill, the horse, knew the road so well he really didn't need any driver, but he went along very nicely with the two little boys talking to him. "We will stop and have some soda at the postoffice," said Mrs. Bobbsey. For the postoffice was also a general store. This was good news to everybody, and when the man came out for the order Aunt Sarah told him to bring cakes too.
It is of Italian marble, eight feet high, and stands upon a granite pedestal twelve feet in altitude. The most noteworthy buildings are the postoffice, the city hall, the county court house, and the Cleveland medical college. The Union Railway depot, an immense structure of stone near the lake shore, is one of the largest of the kind in the United States.
Has it yet, so they say." Days passed and as the summer waned the evidences of a peculiar life accumulated. Noank, apparently, was at outs with Burridge on the subject of religion, and he with it. There were instances of genuine hard feeling against him. Writing a letter in the Postoffice one day I ventured to take up this matter with the postmaster. "You know Mr. Burridge, don't you the grocer?"
Emily, who was in the kitchen with Thankful and Captain Obed, the latter having, as usual, dropped in on his way to the postoffice, seemed in no hurry to speak with Mr. Daniels. It was not until half an hour later, when the message was repeated, that she bade the captain good night and started for the living-room. Captain Obed and Thankful smiled at each other.
East of the old barracks building is the former counting house of the Company, now occupied as the U. S. Postoffice, and during the time when Sitka was the Capital of the Territory it was used by the United States for a Customs office, and by the Governor as an office.
As I passed through to find the postoffice, at the upper edge of town, where the hills come down to meet the bottom, I saw that half of the store buildings still intact were closed, many dwellings and warehouses were in ruins, and numerous open cellars were grown to grass and weeds. Few people were in sight, and they loafing at the corners.
"It seems a Shame to go and Market that kind of Scroll-Work; still if it hits you, it may be Bad enough to affect others having the same Shape of Head. I need the Money and I have no Shame." Thereupon the Friend sent the Verses to the Publisher of a Family Monthly that Percolates into every Postoffice in the Country. In a few Days there came a tear-stained Acceptance and a Check.
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