The next thing to do was to mail it.
Now this seemed a very simple thing, but it really occasioned considerable trouble. The postmaster in a small village can generally identify many of the correspondents who send letters through his office by their handwriting. He knew Joshua's, and such a letter as this would attract his attention and set him to gossiping. Considering the circumstances under which he obtained the money, this was hardly desirable, and Joshua therefore decided, though unwillingly, on account of the trouble, to walk to the next post-office, a distance of three miles, and post his letter there.
He came downstairs with his letter in his pocket. "Where are you going, Joshua?" asked his mother.
"Going out to walk," said Joshua, shortly.
"I wanted to send a little bundle to Mr. Faulkner's, but that is too far off."
"I'll carry it," said Joshua.
Mrs. Drummond was astonished at this unusual spirit of accommodation, for Joshua was, in general, far from obliging. The truth was, however, that, though Mr. Faulkner lived over a mile and a quarter distant, it was on his way to the post-office.
"Thank you, Joshua," said Mrs. Drummond. "I was afraid you wouldn't be willing to go so far."
"I feel just like taking a long walk to-day, mother."