This, of course, was the interesting part of the drive. The stage rattled along the road, the horses went so fast; and at last they came to a house and the horses stopped of their own accord.
The stage driver gave Charlie some letters and told him to go and deliver them.
So Charlie climbed down from the stage and he blew his whistle, one, two, three times—but nobody came to the gate to get the letters from the postman. No, even though Charlie blew again and again, nobody came at all.
Then the stage driver said, “I reckon the folks at this farm are not used to city postmen. I reckon they don’t even know that that whistle means that there is mail for them. You had better just slip the letters in the box, the way we do in these parts, and we’ll drive on to the next farm.”
So Charlie did as the stage driver said. He had to stand on tiptoe because the box was so high. He felt a little sad that nobody had come to get the letters from him—but it was fun putting the letters in the box.
Then they drove on to the next farm. This time there were a whole lot of letters and a parcel, too. Charlie carried the parcel himself, as it was a little one. He said to the stage driver, “Perhaps I had better not blow my whistle this time.” But the stage driver said, “Oh, go ahead and blow your whistle, you know you are a city postman and you must do as they do.”
So Charlie blew on his whistle—he blew a TREMENDOUS blast, and he blew again and again. And—what do you think?
The farmer who was in the field, hoeing potatoes, threw down his hoe and he came running, as fast as he could run, to see what Charlie’s whistle meant.
And the farmer’s wife, who was in the kitchen frying doughnuts, the minute she heard Charlie’s whistle, threw down her cooking spoon and ran out of the kitchen door to see what Charlie’s whistle meant.
And the cat, who was sleeping on a rocking chair on the porch, sprang straight up in the air when she heard the whistle; and she came tearing down to the gate to see what in the world all that whistling meant.