f you plaze."

"Who do you want it for?" said the postmaster, in a tone which Andy
considered an aggression upon the sacredness of private life. So Andy,
in his ignorance and pride, thought the coolest contempt he could throw
upon the prying impertinence of the postmaster was to repeat his
question.

ANDY HAS A VERY FOOLISH QUARREL
WITH THE POSTMASTER

"I want a letther, sir, if you plaze."

"And who do you want it for?" repeated the postmaster.

"What's that to you?" said Andy.

The postmaster, laughing at his simplicity, told him he could not tell
what letter to give him unless he told him the direction.

"The directions I got was to get a letther here--that's the directions."

"Who gave you those directions?"

"The master."

"And who's your master?"

"What consarn is that of yours?"

"Why, you stupid rascal, if you don't tell me his name, how can I give
you a letter?"

"You could give it if you liked; but you're fond of axin' impident
questions, bekase you think I'm simple."

"Go along out o' this! Your master must be as great a goose as yourself,
to send such a messenger."

"Bad luck to your impidence!" said Andy. "Is it Squire Egan you dare to
say goose to?"

"Oh, Squire Egan's your master, then?"

"Yes. Have you anything to say agin it?"

"Only that I never saw you before."

"Faith, then, you'll never see me agin if I have my own consint."

"I won't give you any letter for the squire unless I know you're his
servant. Is there any one in the town knows you?"

"Plenty," said Andy. "It's not every one is as ignorant as you."

WHY ANDY WOULD NOT PAY ELEVEN
PENCE FOR A LETTER

Just at this moment a person to whom Andy was known entered the house,
who vouched to the postmaster that he might give Andy the squire's
letter. "Have you one for me?"

"Yes, sir," said the postmaster, producing one. "Fourpence."

The gentleman paid the fourpence postage (the story, it must be
remembered, belongs to the earlier half of the last century, before the
days of the penny post), and left the shop with his letter.

"Here's a letter for the squire," said the postmaster. "You've to pay me
elevenpence postage."

"What 'ud I pay elevenpence for?"

"For postage."

"Get out wid you! Didn't I see you give Mr. Durfy a letther for
fourpence this minit, and a bigger letther than this? And now you want
me to pay elevenpence for this scrap of a thing? Do you think I'm a
fool?"

"No; but I'm sure of