No fellow-townsman of my acquaintance would address me, or any one else, as Esquire.

Misters and Captains were common enough, but Esquires--no.
It was a Denboro custom, when one received a mysterious letter, to get the fullest enjoyment out of the mystery before solving it.

I had known Dorinda Rogers to guess, surmise and speculate for ten minutes before opening a patent medicine circular.

But, though mysteries were uncommon enough in my life, I think I should have reached the solution of this one in the next second--in fact, I had torn the end from the envelope--when I was interrupted.
It was Captain Dean who interrupted me.

He had evidently concluded his conversation with the postmaster and now was bearing down majestically upon me, like a ten thousand ton steamer on a porgie schooner.
"Hey, you--Ros!" he roared.