Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 November 1893 — POSTAL AMENITIES. [ARTICLE]

POSTAL AMENITIES.

The Spirit of Accommodation May Bo Carried Too Far. It Is pleasant to have a public official—a postmaster, for instance—interested in his work; pleasant also, in a small town, to have him individually interested in the little public whom he serves. But this interest may be carried too far to be agreeable. That student, for instant, in a college in a small country town to whom the following little incident occurred was no doubt assured of the amiable official's interest in his love atrairs, but it is not equally sure that he welcomed it with gratitude. He was betrothed lo a very charming girl in ihe village from which he came, and was in the habit of maintaining a brisk correspondence with her. One day, when he had just mailed a letter and w’iis turning away from the postoffiee door, he heard his name called, and looking back saw the benevolent old postmaster racing after him, waving a white envelope, on which there was no inscription. “Beg pardon,” cried the old gentleman, excitedly, as he caught up, “but there’s nothing written on this letter you just posted. Don’t you want to address it to Hiss Jones?” This is matched by the anecdote related by a lady who, during the momhs of her engagement, received frequent visits from her lover, who lived in a town at some distance. One morning, as she ran to the door to gefr her mail, the postman, who was openly reading a postal card in his hand, looked up from its perusal and kindly relieved her suspense as to the news.

“He ain’t coming this week,” he announced, cheerfully, “but he will next week, sure!” Still a third postal incident belongs to one of those country offices located, as so many are, in the village grocery and general store. The busy postmaster, his mind distracted by an unusual amount of store business, had failed to deliver her mail to a lady who called for it, having told her there was nothing for her that day. Several days later when she came again he apologized for his mistake and delivered to her a belated note, magnanimously adding: “I should have been real worried about it, Miss Brown, if it hadn’t been ’twas an invitation that I knew you wouldn’t care about accepting. 'Tain’t too late now to decline, I s’pose, if ’tis all over. Accepting’s different.” Of like nature, yet different, is a little anecdote related by Mrs. A. W. Greely. After the rescue of General Greely from the famine-haunted camp at Lady Franklin Bay,, but while he was still piaking the slow journey home, his wife was overwhelmed with telegrams of congratulations and sympathy; but her husband himself was too miserably 111 and weak to send her a message for some days. Knowing that unless he were very sick indeed she would receive word from him pcsionally, she waited in the keenest anxiety. At length, hearing one morning the sound of a galloping horse, she rushed to the door to meet the mounted telegraph* boy, who held in his hand the usual bunch of telegrams. But this timi flinging himself from the saddle with a beaming face, the youngster thrust them into her hand, and. showing that he had an intimate knowledge of their contents, exclaimed as he did so: “His is on top!”—Youth’s Companion.