Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 November 1875 — The Colonel’s Letter. [ARTICLE]

The Colonel’s Letter.

The mail-r|outes west of Omaha were but poorly looked after befoae the days of the Pacific Railroad, but the few postoffices were highly prized by miners and traders, enabling them to hear from civilization at least once or twice per year. We had built up quite a little town about twenty miles from Denver, and it was decided to establish a postoffice in a saloon and hire some one to bring and carry a semi-weekly mail. We made no application to the Government for a postoffice, but were going iuto this arrangement merely for our own accommodation. Our letters coming from the States were addressed to Denver, and those we sent from “Paradise” bore the Denver postmark. We made up a list of those who would pay fifty cents weekly, collected the first installment and hired a half-breed to act as fhail-carrier. Everything worked all right, and “Paradise” would have been happy but for a giant miner galled ” £'ql, —ife-wwß down , "flnr-finy , eemr].ii;r week with the rest of us, and ' when the first mail came in lie called and demanded a letter. “None here foryou, Colonel," answered the man who had assumed the duties of Postmaster. The Colonel went away growling and was on hand next mail-day. Several letters were received and distributed, and when informed that there was no letter for h'ui he exclaimed: “ Didn’t I pay my fifty cents with the rest? Haven’t "I as much right to git a letter as any of ’em?" The Postmaster endeavored to explain to him, but the Colonel kicked an empty whisky barrel across the room and went back to his log shanty on the hill-side. The third mail came in and he was on hand, two revolvers in liis belt and a large bowie-knife run down behind his coat collar. “ Xrv letter for Col. Pick ?” he inquired of the Postmaster. “No, Colonel—nothing for you," answered the man. •, * 65 “\ ou are a wolf and a liar!” ,ri4putcd the Colonel. “I’ve paid mv money and I want a letter!” “But there's none for vou,” replied the man. , “I’d be glad if—l- - ’

“ Don’t talk tome!” roared the Colonel. “ Isn't this a postoffice?” “Yes.” - “ Well, what’s a postofflee flir?” “To receive and distril/ntc mail." “ Yes, and where’s my mail ? What’d I pay fur if I hain’t goin’ to git any letters?” > j. The Postmaster was trying to explain, when the Colonel took the whole mail in his paw and walked off, saying that no crowd of men could humbug him. He wouldn’t give the letters up, but he had some good traits atbout him, and I was sorry when “Paradise” turned out and hung him to a limb to maintain the sanctity of the United States postal rules. We might have shot him through the leg and then argued with and enlightened him.— M. Quad's New Book.