The Grinder Papers — page 93: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

83 THE GRINDER PAPERS. Says I, ‘‘ Land alive, what’s York comin’ to? Be them post- offices ?” She laughs, and says she . ‘““Well, theyre letter-boxes, and they save a long journey. _ They’re quite a convenience.” ‘‘Of course they be,” says I, and out I went to put the letter in first off before I did another thing. I walked along, looking for a lamp-post, and soon I come to one. There was a box to it, and beside it stood a young man. in a plaid waistcoat and very ily hair, smoking and whistling. “Ts this here the post-office, young man?” says I, He looks at mea minute and grins—what fur, I’d like to know—and says he: ‘“Yes’m, and I’m postmaster-general of this corner.” “Oh!” says I. ‘‘Well, you needn't take such airs if you are. You government officials always presumes on your position in society to be imperdent to them that’s full as good as you, if not a little better None o’ yourairsto me. I wanta letter put in to the office for Peekskill. What d’ye tax?” ‘‘Oh,” said he, ‘‘that depends on weight, mum.” ‘‘Well,” says, I, ‘‘what does this weigh ?” I gin him the letter, and he balanced it upon his thumb, and says he: | ‘Well, this is a purty heavy letter. I'll tax seventy-five cents for it. It’s less than it ought to be, but considerin’ youre an old 397 —lady— ‘Like your imperdence,” says I. ‘‘Old!”