I was gripping it tight when I noticed the end of one letter much wider and fatter than any I ever had seen, so when father was not looking I began pushing it a little at one end, and pulling it at the other, to work it up, until I could read the address. I got it out so far I thought every minute he'd notice, and tell me not to do that, but I could only see Stanton. All of us were Stanton, so it might be for me, for that matter. Jerry might be sending me pictures, or a book, he did sometimes, but there was an exciting thing about it. Besides being fatter than it looked right at the end, it was plastered with stamps--lots of them, enough to have brought it clear around the world. I pushed that end back, pulled out the other, and took one good look. I almost fell from the carriage. I grabbed father's arm and cried: "Stop! Stop this team quick. Stop them and see if I can read." "Are you crazy, child?" asked father, but he checked the horses. "No, but you are going to be in a minute," I said. "Look at that!" I yanked the letter from the bundle, and held it over. I THOUGHT I could read, but I was too scared to be sure. I thought it said in big, strong, upstanding letters, Miss Shelley Stanton, Groveville, Indiana. And in the upper corner, Blackburn, Yeats and PAGET, Counsellors of Law, 37 to 39 State St., Chicago. I put my finger on the Paget, and looked into father's face. I was no fool after all. He was not a bit surer that HE could read than I was, from the dazed way he stared. "You see!" I said. "It says Paget!" he said, like he would come nearer believing; it if he heard himself pronounce the word. "I THOUGHT it said 'Paget,'" I gasped, "but I wanted to know if you thought so too." "Yes, it's Paget plain enough," said father, but he acted like there was every possibility that it might change to Jones any minute. "It says 'Paget,' plain as print." "Father!" I cried, clutching his arm, "father, see how fat it is! There must be pages and pages! Father, it wouldn't take all that to tell her he didn't like her, and he never wanted to see her again. Would it, father?" "It doesn't seem probable," said father. "Father don't you think it means there's been some big mistake, and it takes so much to tell how it can be fixed?" "It seems reasonable." I gripped him tighter, and maybe shook him a little. "Father!" I cried. "Father, doesn't it just look HURRY, all over? Can't you speed up a little? They have all day to cool off. Oh father, won't you speed a little?" "That I will!" said father. "Get a tight hold, and pray God it is good word we carry." "But I prayed the one big prayer to get this," I said. "It wouldn't be sent if it wasn't good. The thing to do now is to thank the Lord for 'all his loving kindnesses,' like mother said." "Drive father! Make them go!"