CHAPTER II.
"ONE FLEW INTO THE CUCKOO'S NEST." The letter for Jaynes's Post-office reached the end of its journey first.

It wasn't much of a post-office; only an old case of pigeon-holes set up in one corner of a cross-roads store.

A man riding over from the nearest town twice a week brought the mail-bag on horseback.

So few letters found their way into this, particular bag that Squire Jaynes, who kept the store and post-office, felt a personal interest in every envelope that passed through his hands.
"Miss Elizabeth Lloyd Lewis," he spelled aloud, examining the address through his square-bowed spectacles with a critical squint.

"Now, who under the canopy might _she_ be ?" There was no one in the store to answer the question but an overgrown boy who had stopped to get his father's weekly paper.