"'Resolved, that Isr'el Nudd was a good postmaster, and done his work faithful; and resolved, that we tender his widder all the respeckful sympathy she requires.' And a peanut-shell to put it in!" he added, in a lower tone.
Salem Rock pulled out a massive silver watch and looked at it.
"I got to go!" he said. "Let's boil this down! All present who want Homer Hollopeter for postmaster, say so; contrary-minded? It's a vote! We'll send the petition to Washin'ton. Next question is, who'll he have for an assistant?"
There was a movement of chairs, as with fresh interest in the new topic.
"I was intendin' to speak on that p'int!" piped up a little man at the end of the row, who had not spoken before.
"What do we need of an assistant? Homer Hollopeter could do the work with one hand, except Christmas and New Years. There ain't room enough in there to set a hen, anyway."
"Who wants to set hens in the post-office?" demanded Seth Weaver. "There's cacklin' enough goes on there without that. I expect about the size of it is, you'd like more room to set by the stove, without no eggs to set on."
"I was only thinkin' of savin' the gov'ment!" said the little man, uneasily.
"I reckon gov'ment's big enough to take care of itself!" said Seth Weaver.
"There's allers been an assistant," said Salem Rock, briefly. "Question is, who to have?"