"Say, Will, did ye bring down my molasses?" "Say, Will, did ye match that ribbin f'r me?" "Say, Will," etc., etc.
"You bet I did, every time!" he answered jovially, showing his white teeth. Interest in the post was comparatively moribund; a general parcel-distributing and hand-shaking followed—until we were startled by a cry from Lunette:
"Look a' this, Will Hunson!" said she; "look a' this, will ye? A whole pot o' strawberry jam soaked right plumb inter the middle o' the United States Governmunt!"
It was only too true. The pile of letters and papers which she had emptied onto the moulding table were red and glowing as the summer rose.
Will hung his dismayed head.
"Be them ructions, or ain't they?" coldly demanded Lunette, pointing to the awful pile.
"I didn't mean to," said Will.
"Didn't mean to!" cried Lunette. "Didn't mean to, lived in a lean-to!"
Blasted by terror and sarcasm, we all hung our heads. Snipe grovelled in still farther behind my legs.
"There 's got to be something done!" cried Lunette. "Folks's got to learn 't the United States Governmunt is a awful an' a solemn an' a turrible thing. What ef it sh'd be told 't we hadn't no more respec' for her down here to the Basin 'n to soak her through with strawberry jam an' molarsses! These here ructions have been a-goin' on too long with the Basin post-office. I'm a-goin' to fill out a blank an' send it to Washin'ton!"