"These are all for you," he said; "it is astonishing what a large
correspondence you have."

Marjorie was amazed. She took the budget of letters her uncle
handed her and counted five. They were all duly stamped, and all
were postmarked, but the postmarks all read Haslemere.

"How funny!" exclaimed Marjorie; "I didn't know there was a post
office at Haslemere."

"You didn't!" exclaimed Uncle Steve; "why, there certainly is. Do
you mean to say that you don't know that there's a little post
office in the lowest branch of that old maple-tree down by the
brook?"

"You mean just where the path turns to go to the garden?"

"That's the very spot. Only this morning I was walking by there,
and I saw a small post office in the tree. There was a key in the
door of it, and being curious, I opened it, and looked in. There I
saw five letters for you, and as you're not walking much this
summer, I thought I'd bring them to you. I brought the key, too."

As he finished speaking, Uncle Steve drew from his pocket a little
bright key hung on a blue ribbon, which he gravely presented to
Marjorie. Her eyes danced as she took it, for she now believed
there was really a post office there, though it was sometimes
difficult to distinguish Uncle Steve's nonsense from the truth.

"Now I'm more than ever anxious to get well," she cried, "and go