Doctor Goodfoot

by G. P. Lathrop

THE main street of Ridgeway had, as it were, instinctively widened itself in front of the post-office, out of respect for that governmental centre, which, it may be said, was also the chief literary institution of the village, and, in fact, of the entire township. Nor was the broader space ill advised at this point. Crowds were apt at various times and seasons to collect spontaneously in front of the post-office, and, though their masses never became very dense, they found the wide road a relief. Farmers, too, driving in from the surrounding country, must call here for their letters and their copy of the Orthodox Observer (or whatever other similar thin-leaved and well-inked weekly product of the press awaited them), and must then use a becoming deliberateness of loafing before returning to their muddy wagons for the homeward drive; so that they also profited by the outspreading of the highway. But at last there had come a man who was incensed by the width of the street. Mr. Jergram, who had only a given time in which to accomplish his errand at Ridgeway, having walked all the way from the nearest railroad-station, distant a mile, and, being very dry and irritated from his tramp in the sun, was in no humor to appreciate the splendid expanse of sleeping dust which lay before him on his arrival opposite to the post-office. In fact, he gave utterance to some ungentle exclamation, expressive of his disgust at the spectacle. But just at that moment an unrefreshing gust of wind swept down the street, and Jergram was obliged to promptly close both mouth and eyes, merely gasping for a final breath, before he was enveloped in a persistent whirl of gritty particles.… Read More