But as years rolled on, and no prospect of his being recalled to the throne, and his protectors being dead, he had been educated as a clergyman and served as missionary till his death. In fact, it was only when on his deathbed these facts were discovered. Had this book—a very closely written volume—anything to do with him? God only knows! *COUNTRY POST OFFICES FORTY AND FIFTY YEARS AGO.* Our ancestors must have been very honest in rural parts, and had unlimited faith in each other’s integrity, judging by the early post offices. The first one I remember was that of Murray Bay, when on the arrival of the bag its contents were dumped on the floor and every one picked out the letters for themselves and friends, and enacted the part of voluntary carriers for their friends, and very curious were the articles then transmitted through the post office, the mail bags then doing the present express service. A relative told me that he was somewhere in the Gaspé district when the carrier arrived with the bags he had carried a long distance on his back, and using rather hard language at the unwonted weight of the bag, and curious to see what was the cause of this extraordinary weighty mail, when lo! out tumbled two immense wild geese, sent as a present by the Hon. W. H. to a friend. Fancy the dénouement and the wrath of the old Scotchman, who had borne the weight on a long tramp through a pathway in the forest. One of the most curious experiences I ever had occurred about ten years ago, when I went with my family to a rural summer resort. We were several miles from the post office, and had very steep hills to climb on every side, so I wished to kill two birds with one stone, and decided to go to the post office after church service. I did so, and inquired for a registered letter I expected. After a few minutes inquiry the maitre de poste said: "Yes, there is a registered letter for you, but I can’t find it, but it is all right, it is in the book." "Well," I said, as the assistant was absent and might possibly have said letter in charge, "I’ll call back after afternoon service." I did so, but again the letter could not be found. "You’ll probably be passing in a week or so, won’t you call in then, by that time I have no doubt we’ll have it for you." "But," I said, "that won’t do. I am a stranger here and need the money." "Ah! madame" (they were French Canadians), "we are very sorry to inconvenience you, and if you will say how much you need will be happy to advance you the cash, as by our books you are entitled to some." I could not feel angry with these simple people, they were evidently so honest and true. Yet, as I wanted my letter, with home news, as well as the cash, I proposed that we should make a search in the post office, which was also a shop of general merchandise. So, after looking through box after box, some suggested looking in the