ican papers over, you could just stop on the way, and get a copy
or two of 'The London Times'?"
"I do not go for the papers myself."
"You don't mean to say that they come entirely by themselves?" he
replied, looking more perplexed and astounded than I can describe.
"Of course not," I said, breaking into a hearty laugh. "I have a partner
on the other side, who will forward them to me every morning."
"Then they do come of themselves, after they are once started?"
"Why, yes," I said, feeling a little embarrassed, and very much afraid
that I might commit myself, "after the proper impulse and direction are
given, they do come of themselves."
"But how, in the name of all that is marvellous, after the package gets
into the right magnetic current, does it manage to alight in this
vicinity?"
"That is easily explained by the laws of gravity."
The attention of all present was arrested by this conversation, and I
began to feel that I was getting upon dangerous ground.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," I said, taking hold of the handle of the door,
"from answering any more questions at this time. My mind is getting a
little confused; and, what is more, I am very hungry." Upon which I
retired to the dining-room.
Every thing went on successfully during the remainder of the week; all
the packages arrived safely and in good order, and on Friday evening I
was ready to remit several hundred dollars to my brother. At the same
time, I thought that it was proper for me to write a few lines to my
good mother; and accordingly I sat down and made out quite a long
letter, which I enclosed in the same bundle with the money.
On Saturday evening, the papers arrived half an hour later than usual,
as I had arranged with Bob; and on the wrapper I was delighted to read,
in great, scrawling letters, "_All right: money and letters received._"
On Sunday, as I was lying in my hammock, and thinking of home, it came
to my mind that my dear mother had probably expected me to pass the day
with her; and then for the first time it flashed across me, that, when I
wrote her on Friday, I entirely forgot that she supposed me all the
while to have been in the little town of Canton, on the Boston and
Providence Railroad. "What on earth," I said to myself, "will she
imagine when she reads my letter? I certainly must have betrayed myself.
I don't remember exactly what it was that I wrote; but there must have
been some things in the letter that will lead t
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