His brief history, as related by himself, brought to light the fact that he had served the Government as post master many years before, having originally been appointed, as he said, by "old Hickory" himself.
During half an hour's conversation, the information furnished at this point was generally of a candid and impartial character, though the explanations regarding a defunct bank, the remains of which stood within a stone's throw of the post-office, proved the most troublesome subject that was talked over. The expiration of its charter, if I mistake not, was given as the reason for its closed doors.
The measured tolling of the church bell attracted my attention. The funeral procession from the other village had reached the hill and was just entering the burial-ground, through the church-yard, and after a short interval passed out again on its return.
Having now obtained all the information I could in that quarter, I suggested to my escort that I was ready to move, and we were soon on our way back. About half way to the middle village, we came up with the procession, and followed along at a slow pace, in fact forming a part of the solemn cortege.
It had somehow leaked out that the "Post-Office Agent" was there, and along the whole line, hats and even bonnets could be seen projecting from the sides of such of the carriages as were provided with coverings. Compared with the post-office question, the grave was nowhere, and funerals were at a discount. Some of the most interested happened to be in the nearest vehicles to us, and when they discovered who my companion was, a number of the animals were suddenly relieved of a good share of their burthen. Several of the deserters fell in the rear, and without waiting for a formal introduction, began to discourse eloquently upon the subject of their post office grievances. I assured them that I would spend the night at the hotel in their village, where I would be happy to
meet them and their friends, for the purpose of inquiry and investigation.