"Oh, it's easy enough to see how that happened. They knew what they were about when they paid the Agents' hotel bill."

For such reasons I declined the courtesy, and insisted on paying the bill myself. The landlord finally yielded, remarking, "they won't like it when they find out that their directions were not followed."

Soon after, the stage arrived at the door of the hotel from a neighboring town, on its way to the rail road depôt, and this was to be my conveyance to that place. I took leave of such of the gentlemen as were standing about the piazza, and mounted to the seat upon the top of the stage, behind and above the driver's station. To this elevated position I was unexpectedly followed by the "Committee on Statistics,” and another person whom I had not seen before. This move on the part of the former gentleman was probably made not only to secure my car during the passage to the depôt, but to prevent the post master there from gaining any advantage over him in the time which would elapse between the arrival of the stage and the departure of the cars.

Being placed, like men in general, between the known and unknown, the "Committee" on one side, and the stranger on the other, my attention, soon after we had started, was attracted to the former individual by sundry punches in the ribs, proceeding from his elbow, accompanied with ominous winks and glances towards my other companion, who was just then conversing with the driver.

"Look out what you say," whispered the vigilant Committee, “that fellow is a spy; he is one of the Depôt boys.”

"All right," I replied, in all sincerity, for I was not sorry to find that my friend would be prevented by the presence of the "spy" from executing the design which he undoubtedly had, of catechizing me in reference to the report I should make to the Department.

Arriving at the station, I crossed over to the post-office, and there remained until the whistle of the locomotive was heard.

GETTING THE LAST WORD.

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"Well, good bye, Mr. W-," said I to the post master, offering my hand.

"I think," said he, "that I will ride a little way with you,

as far at least as the next station."

He accompanied me across to the depot, and as we stepped upon the platform of a car, we were followed by the "Committee” and one of his most interested friends, who had come over in the stage with us, an inside passenger.

These gentlemen were evidently bent on thwarting the plans of my saccharine associate, but he had in an important particular greatly the advantage over them, for, by virtue of his office, he was allowed the privilege of riding in the mail car, to which we at once proceeded, leaving our disappointed friends in the outer world, among the undistinguished crowd whom the conductor indiscriminately calls upon for "your money or your ticket.”

I

My companion and his opponents alighted at the next station, to wait for the return train, and as the cars moved on, observed that they were conversing together, the countenance of the former displaying a radiant appearance of satisfaction which plainly showed his triumphant state of mind.

I have no means of knowing what passed between them on their return, but it is altogether probable that the "Committee” and his friend employed the time in "pumping" or attempting pump their associate, unless he took refuge in the mail car. The investigation resulted in restoring the post-office to the center village, and in discontinuing the two others.

to

The reader will be pleased to learn that the "Committee on Statistics" received the appointment of post master.

CHAPTER XX.

HARROWFORK POST-OFFICE.

A gloomy Picture-Beautiful Village-Litigation in Harrowfork—A model Post Master-The Excitement-Petitioning the Department— Conflicting Statements-The decisive Blow-The new Post Master —The “Reliable Man”—Indignant Community-Refusal to serve— An Editor's Candidate--The Temperance Question-Newspaper Extracts-A Mongrel Quotation-A Lull-A "Spy in Washington"Bad Water-New Congressmen-The Question revived-Delegate to Washington-Obliging Down Easter-The lost Letters-Visit to the Department-Astounding Discovery-Amusing Scene-A Congressmen in a "Fix"-The Difficulty "arranged."

THERE is no blessing bestowed upon us by a kind Providence, which man's selfishness may not pervert into a grievance. We have seen this principle illustrated in the use and abuse of post-offices, as often as in any other civil institution.

How society in the nineteenth century could exist without mail routes and the regular delivery of letters, it is impossible. to conceive.

Imagine a town without a post office! a community without letters! "friends, Romans, countrymen, and lovers," particularly the lovers, cut off from correspondence, bereft of newspapers, buried alive from the light of intelligence, and the busy stir of the great world! What an appalling picture!

We have always thought that Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday might have enjoyed a very comfortable existence, had Juan Fernandez been blessed with a post-office. But think

A GLOOMY PICTURE.

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of a society of Crusoes and Fridays! nobody receiving letters, nobody writing letters-no watching the mails, no epistolary surprises and enjoyments, which form so large an element in our social life to-day!

But gloomy as the picture appears, we have many times thought that some very respectable and enlightened villages would be decidedly benefited, were the post office stricken from the catalogue of their institutions. This is a bone of contention, which often sets the whole neighborhood by the ears and communities, which might otherwise enjoy the reputation of being regular circles of "brotherly love," break out into quarrels, contentions, slanders, litigations, and all sorts of unchristian disturbances.

The case of the town of Harrowfork, which I find recorded in my note-book, will most capitally illustrate the point under consideration. Harrowfork, by the way, is not the real name of the town, but a fictitious one, which we use for our convenience, to avoid personalities. It is located on the Eastern slope of an eminence, which overlooks one of the fairest of valleys on one of the most beautiful New England streams. The town was once a favorite place of resort with the writer, during the Summer season; and, although this was years ago, the pretty village is still fresh in his memory, with its green hills, its handsome residences embowered in the foliage of trees and vines-its rival churches, with their emulous spires pointing toward heaven; its shady roads, and magnificent prospects, looking far off upon the wide-spread valley, dotted with farmhouses, and beautified by the sinuous, glittering waters of the

stream.

Its sunrises were particularly fine, and it has always seemed to me that the poet must have had them in his mind, when he penned the sonnet commencing

"Full many a glorious morning I have seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,

Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy!”

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LAWYERS LOOKING UP.

It appears to us a strange dispensation of Providence, that such a perfect nest of loveliness should be invaded by inharmonious cat birds, and mischief-making wrens. But dissensions did creep in through the post-office. Up to a certain time, such universal peace prevailed among the inhabitants, that its two lawyers would have been beggared, had they not wisely resorted to farming, as a more reliable occupation than the occasional and precarious one of conducting some tame and straight-forward case, for a petty fee. But now the lawyers have enough to do, without turning aside from their regular profession; litigation is brisk and spirited in Harrowfork, and intricate and aggravated cases are numerous. Neighbors quarrel, church members sue each other, deacons go to law, the lawyers build fine houses, their families grow extravagant in dress-all owing to the post-office.

As long as old Uncle Crocker was post master, there was no difficulty. He seemed just the man for the business. He was looked upon as a part of the institution. Nobody thought of turning him out, more than they would have thought of petitioning for the removal of Harrowfork Hill.

But Uncle Crocker was not a permanent institution, notwithstanding the people's faith. One of his daughters married, and settled in the West. Excited by the report she made of the country, two of his sons followed her, and in the course of time, Uncle Crocker himself "pulled up stakes," retired from the post-office with honors, and migrated to the new territory.

As soon as the old gentleman's intention was made public, there was a slight flutter of interest in the community, in relation to the subject of a successor in his office. At first, if the name of a new candidate was hinted at, it was offered like Snagsby's expression of opinion in the presence of his wifeonly as a "mild suggestion." But there was a good deal of partisan feeling latent in Harrowfork, and this was just the thing to develope it; and gently as the breeze had arisen, it