His had been a calm, relatively happy life until he was seventy years of age; then misfortune overwhelmed him. He lost his savings; his son, Sylvester, Jeanne’s father, died; a few weeks later he had a stroke of apoplexy and now a shivering palsy possessed his limbs. For more than five years he had lain in his bed, nursed by wife and granddaughter. His wife by most rigid economy had managed to feed the family of three; though they were poorly clad and were frequently denied many things deemed essential to life. ———— Simeon Blair for ten years had been carrying the mail from the mouth of Big Creek to Hyden, going up one day and returning the next. He usually ate his noon-day meal at Litman’s, which he called the “Half-way House.” About ten days after Mr. Allen and his client had spent the night at the Litman cabin, Blair rode up on his old gray mare and seeing Jeanne coming from the spring, took from a gunny sack a parcel post package about a foot square; and holding it above his head called out: “Guess whose this is?” “Grandpa’s.” He shook his head, saying: “Guess again.” “Granny’s.” “Wrong, guess again.” “Is it for us?” “Yes.” “Then it must be for me; but I have never had anything before. It is not Christmas. O! who could have sent it?” She took it with timid joy and examined it carefully, reading aloud in a halting way—“Miss Jeanne—no it’s not Jeanne; what is it Simeon?” “Jeannette.” “Miss Jeannette Litman, Big Creek, Leslie County, Ky.” And in the upper left-hand corner— “From John M. Allen, Lexington, Ky.” “Open it, let’s see what’s inside.” “Not till grandpa wakes up.” She went to his door, he was awake; so she called her grandmother and Simeon. “Look, grandpa, see what’s come by mail. Listen: ‘Miss Jeannette Litman, Big Creek, Leslie County, Kentucky. From John M. Allen, Lexington, Ky.’ What can it be?” “Open it and find out.” “Simeon, you untie the string.” “Cut it, it’s dinner time.” (Granny) “No, it’s a piece of good whip-cord, undo the knot.” “Well, Miss Jeannette Litman, there it is.” “Can you see, grandpa?” “Yes, dear.” “Watch close—O! this is for you, grandpa. See your name? Shall I open it?—Some silver specks, in a bright new case. Now I know why he asked me for the broken ones.” “Look! Look! this has granny’s name on it, what can it be?” “You open it, dear.” “No, granny, you must open your own bundle.” “Just what I wanted. I remember saying that when I went to Hyden I would have to buy a pair of shears and a black shawl with the money we got for the goose feathers. Now we can get a sack of flour and goods for Jeanne’s dress.” “It is my turn now, ‘For Jeannette Litman,’ such purty shoes; how did he know my size? O! he had me step in the dusty road and then he measured the track, saying a fairy had passed this way; and here is a little blue silk handkerchief and two books. What does this spell, Simeon? _University Dictionary_? What is a dictionary?”