e smiled and assumed an air more than ever
carefree.

One afternoon, when, on his way home after an unusually lengthy walk, he
stopped at the post office, he found that the Phipps' mail had already
been delivered.

"Zach Bloomer stopped along in and took it," explained Miss Tamson
Black, the postmaster's sister-in-law. "I told him I presumed likely
you'd be here after it yourself pretty soon, but it didn't make no
difference. He said--but maybe I better not tell you."

"Oh, yes--no doubt," observed Galusha, who was, as usual, paying little
attention.

Tamson, plainly disappointed at his lack of curiosity, elevated her thin
nose.

"Well," she observed, "what he SAID was that, fur's things bein' here
was concerned, Christmas would be here, give it time enough. Pretty
sassy kind of talk, _I_ call it, but maybe you ain't so partic'lar, Mr.
Bangs."

"Dear me! Of course. Well, well!... Oh, were there any letters
for--ah--for me, may I ask?"

"Why, yes, there was, two of 'em. That's what made me cal'late you
might like to get 'em first yourself. I knew you didn't get letters
very often, Mr. Bangs; that is, I've noticed you ain't since I've been
helpin' in this office. Anyhow, 'most anybody would rather get their own
mail private than have Zach Bloomer cartin' it from land-knows-where to
never-and-gone, smellin' it all up with old tobacco pipes and fish or
whatever else he carries 'round in his pockets. Course I don't mean he
lugs fish around in his pocket, 'tain't likely--He, he, he--but that old
coat of his always smells like a--like a porgie boat. And I don't know's
I mean that those letters of yours were any more 'special private than
common; anyhow, both envelopes was in MALE handwritin'--He, he, he! But
I noticed one was stamped from way out in--in Nevada, seems if 'twas,
so--"

"Eh?" Galusha came to life with astonishing quickness. "From--from
Nevada, did you say?"

"Um-hm. I remember it real plain now. You see, it kind of caught my eye
as I was sortin.' We don't never get much mail from Nevada--not in this
office we don't never hardly. So when I see... Well, my good land!"

The exclamation was caused by the unceremonious suddenness of Mr. Bangs'
exit. He was well across the road by the time Miss Black reached the
window.

"My good land!" exclaimed Tamson again. Later she told her
brother-in-law that she cal'lated that Nevada letter was maybe more
private than she cal'lated first, and that she bet you she