I saw that each stage-driver carried a letter in his left hand.
"The mail is hevy, to-day," said the landlord. "Gin'rally they don't have more'n half a dozen letters 'tween 'em. To-day they're got one a piece! Bile my lights and liver!"
"And the passengers?"
"There ain't any, skacely, now-days," said the landlord, "and what few ther is very much prefer to walk, the roads is so rough."
"And how ist with you?" I inquired of the editor of the Bugle-Horn of Liberty, who sot near me.
"I can't go," he said, shakin' his head in a wise way. "Ordinarily I should delight to wade in gore, but my bleedin' country bids me stay at home. It is imperatively necessary that I remain here for the purpose of announcin', from week to week, that our Gov'ment is about to take vigorous measures to put down the rebellion!
I strolled into the village oyster-saloon, where I found Dr. SCHWAZEY, a leadin' citizen in a state of mind which showed that he'd bin histin' in more'n his share of pizen.
"Hello, old Beeswax," he bellered; "how's yer grandmams? When you goin' to feed your stuffed animils?"
"What's the matter with the eminent physician?" I pleasantly inquired.
"This," he said; "this is what's the matter. I'm a habit-ooal drunkard! I'm exempt!"