"Er--Ephraim, how'd you like to, be postmaster? H-haven't any objections
to that kind of a job, hev you?"

"Why no," said Ephraim. "We hain't agoin' to hev a post-office at
Coniston--air we?"

"H-how'd you like to be postmaster at Brampton?" demanded Jethro,
abruptly.

Ephraim dropped the trace he was shaving.

"Postmaster at Brampton!" he exclaimed.

"H-how'd you like it?" said Jethro again.

"Well," said Ephraim, "I hain't got any objections."

Jethro started out of the shop, but paused again at the door.

"W-won't say nothin' about it, will you, Eph?" he inquired.

"Not till I git it," answered Ephraim. The sorrows of three years were
suddenly lifted from his shoulders, and for an instant Ephraim wanted to
dance until he remembered the rheumatism and the Wilderness leg. Suddenly
a thought struck him, and he hobbled to the door and called out after
Jethro's retreating figure. Jethro returned.

"Well?" he said, "well?"