CHANGE OF VOCATION.
Maybe the dog fight prompted a change of vocation to that of mail carrier, on horse back or mule back, the route extending from Cahaba down the river by Cambridge[A] to Prairie Bluff, across the river and up by old Canton, to Camden, Bells Landing, Claiborne, thence to Stockton, in Baldwin county, and serving intervening post offices. It required six days to make a round trip with the seventh day off, Thursday, either at Stockton or the other end. At Stockton, as a government attaché one had the privilege to go on the mail boat to Mobile and return after a stay of five hours—quite a treat for a country boy. Whereas, a day off at the other end involved an extra ride of ten miles to Selma and return, because the contractor lived there, and thus saved the keep of boy and horse in Cahaba.
[A] The post office at Cambridge was in the home of a planter, C. M. Cochran, H. J. C. carried the mail into that home many a time, about the time the other Alabama boy was born. Into that home the latter entered in 1870 and took the baby daughter of the old post master to be his wife. The post office has been long known as Crumptonia.—W. B. C.
With an ambition to do faithful and efficient service, reckless risks were some times taken. I once got into Flat Creek, when the old worn-out mule was unable to stem the stiff current. We were carried down stream toward the river not far away. A friendly overhanging grape-vine gave me a stopping place and not far below the mule lodged in a submerged tree-top. My lusty yells brought the good Samaritan. When about to swim out to rescue me, he was disgusted when told to first save the mule and mail. This he did in good shape; meantime, I did my own swimming. The water was emptied out of the mail bag, the bag thrown across the saddle, the mule mounted, and away we went for a bridge several miles up the stream. Maybe it was not the same old mule which about a year afterwards laid down and died suddenly, some eight miles from our terminal point, Cahaba. Slinging saddle, bridle, and mail bag over my shoulder, the balance of the trip was made on foot and the mail delivered on time. When next pay day came around, the old contractor placed his own value on the mule and took same out of my wages. My job was thrown up immediately and suit commenced for the amount due, but tiring of the law's delay, the case was allowed to lapse, and the wretch allowed the comfort of having beaten a boy out of hard earned wages. Doubtless he has long since passed to the beyond. He was outwardly a devout and sanctimonious man; if one were sure he is now enjoying a state of heavenly bliss, it would more than justify a belief in universal salvation.