Mr. Egan was a kind-hearted man, and, instead of dismissing Andy, he kept him on for out-door work. Our hero at once distinguished himself in his new walk of life.
"Ride into the town and see if there is a letter for me," said the squire.
"I want a letther, if you plaze!" shouted Andy, rushing into the post-office.
"Who do you want it for?" asked the postmaster.
"What consarn is that o' yours?" exclaimed Andy.
Happily, a man who knew Andy looked in for a letter, paid the postage of fourpence on it, and then settled the dispute between Andy and the postmaster by mentioning Mr. Egan's name.
"Why didn't you tell me you came from the squire?" said the postmaster. "Here's a letter for him. Elevenpence postage."
"Elevenpence postage!" Andy cried. "Didn't I see you give that man a letther for fourpence, and a bigger letther than this? Do you think I'm a fool?"
"No," said the postmaster; "I'm sure of it."
He walked off to serve another customer, and Andy meditated. His master wanted the letter badly, so he would have to pay the exorbitant price. He snatched two other letters from the heap on the counter while the postmaster's back was turned, paid the elevenpence, received the epistle to which he was entitled, and rode home triumphant.