"No. I must retrench. I must cut off all superfluous expenses. And I believe I can do without a newspaper as well as any thing else. It's a mere luxury; though a very pleasant one, I own, but still dispensable."
"Not a luxury, but a necessary, I say, and indispensable," returned the postmaster. "I don't know what I wouldn't rather do without than a newspaper. What in the world are Phoebe, and Jane, and Margaret going to do?"
"They will have to do without. There is no help for it."
"If they don't raise a storm about your ears that you will be glad to allay, even at the cost of half a dozen newspapers, I am mistaken," said the postmaster, laughing.
Ashburn replied, as he turned to walk away, that he thought he could face all storms of that kind without flinching.
"Give me the 'Post,' papa," said Margaret, running to the door to meet her father when she saw him coming.
"I haven't got it," replied Mr. Ashburn, feeling rather uncomfortable.
"Why? Hasn't it come?"
"No; is hasn't come."
Margaret looked very much disappointed.