Kansas University Weekly.
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minutes that the postmaster was not honest and he determined to remain a day or two with him. On various pretexts he asked to examine all the opened registered package envelopes on file, the waste paper and the records of the office. Everything showed careful observance of regulations and to all appearances, the strictest honesty. But he was not satisfied. He had a feeling that here was his guilty man and he determined to prove that his opinion was correct. He noticed just outside the back door of the office a large ash pile at the bottom of which was some twine and waste paper. He planned a secret investigation and for this purpose pretended to the postmaster that he must return to his home that evening. Then he went to a farm house where he staid until night.
That night he went to the rear of the office and carefully looked through the ashes hoping to find something that would clear up the mystery. After a long search and much turning over of ashes he saw a bit of the familiar red and white striped paper that is used in mailing registered letters. He eagerly pulled it out and saw that although it had been almost entirely burned away there was on one corner a number that corresponded with that of the missing letter; but nothing further could be found to identify it. He placed it in his pocket and returned to the farm.
Mr. Scott had not enjoyed the inspector's visit. He felt that it would terminate in something to his detriment and was glad when the inspector left him. But his uneasiness was greatly increased when the inspector called again the next morning. He very coldly returned the inspector's greeting and it was with difficulty that he could be drawn into conversation. The inspecror asked if he had ever received a registered letter not meant for his office. The postmaster, somewhat startled at the question, replied that he had not. Then the inspector asked if he saved all registered package envelopes that came to the office. Mr. Scott assured him that he did. At this point the inspector brought out from his pocket the piece of envelope he had found in the ash pile, showed it to the postmaster and asked for an explanation. Mr. Scott realized that he was caught but tried to explain by saying it was an envelope he had spoiled in addressing. This the inspector showed was impossible as the number was higher than had ever been sent from L. Then the postmaster broke down, confessed his guilt and gave himself up to the inspector who placed him under arrest.
The prisoner was turned over to the proper authorities and the office was placed in charge of one of the bondsmen. Mr. Scott was given a light jail sentence, after which he returned to his claim, a free man but disqualified for holding any federal position.
The solution of the mystery made three very happy men. The inspector, who, aside from having a professional pride in the case, felt personally interested in proving Watson's innocence. The assistant postmaster at Gwas pleased that it terminated in the way it did although it proved that his carelessness had caused the trouble. But the happiest of all was Watson who was now relieved of all responsibility in the matter. As a partial atonement for the inconvenience that he had been made to bear, the postoffice department promoted him to a much better position and returned to him the amount of money that the registered letter contained, having collected it from the bondsmen of Scott. Mr. Watson says he doubts whether there is now a happier or more contented man than he in the employ of the postoffice department.
One of Eugene Field's Last Poems
One of Eugene Field's Last Poems.
"It's June ag'in an' in my soul I feel the fillin' joy
That's sure to come this time o' year to every little boy:
For, every June, the Sunday schools at picnics may be seen
Where' fields beyond the swellin' floods stand dressed in livin' green;'
Where little girls are skewed to death with spiders, bugs and ants.
An' little boys git grass stains on their go-to-meetin' pants.
It's June ag'in, an' with it all, what happiness is mine!
There's goin' to be a picnic, an' I'm goin' to tine!"