At this moment a window-blind was drawn up, and the meek head of Mr. Homer Hollopeter appeared at the open window.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" he said, nervously. A great content shone in his mild brown eyes,—indeed, he must have heard every word that had been spoken,—but he shuffled his feet and twitched the blind uneasily after he had spoken.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Postmaster!" said Salem Rock, heartily.
"Congratulations, Home!" said Seth Weaver. The others nodded and grunted approvingly.
"There's nothing official yet, you understand," Salem Rock added, kindly; "but we've passed a vote, and the rest is only a question of time."
"Only a question of time!" echoed Abram Cutter and John Peavey.
Mr. Homer drew himself up and settled his sky-blue necktie.
"Gentlemen," he said, his voice faltering a little at first, but gaining strength as he went on, "I thank you for the honor you do me. I am deeply sensible of it, and of the responsibility of the position I am called upon to fill; to—occupy;—to—a—become a holder of."
"Have a lozenger, Home!" said Seth Weaver, encouragingly.
"I—am obliged to you, Seth; not any!" said Mr. Homer, slightly flustered. "I was about to say that my abilities, such as they are, shall be henceforth devoted to the service—to the—amelioration; to the—mental, moral, and physical well-being—of my country and my fellow citizens. Ahem! I suppose—I believe it is the custom—a—in short, am I at liberty to choose an assistant?"