I have sent to my brother one copy of St. Luke's Gospel with a letter; the postage was 15s. My reason for sending only one was, that the rate of postage increases with the weight, and that the two Gospels can go out much cheaper singly than together. The other I shall dispatch next month.英文原著 · 《Letters》
Before the year 1845, several of my friends had emigrated as teachers or missionaries. One of the editors of the "Operatives' Magazine" had gone to Arkansas with a mill-girl who had worked beside her among the looms. They were at an Indian mission--to the Cherokees and Choctaws. I seemed to breathe the air of that far Southwest, in a spray of yellow jessamine which one of those friends sent me, pressed in a letter. People wrote very long letters then, in those days of twenty-five cent postage.英文原著 · 《A New England Girlhood》
The above is the title of this new and valuable work. It is too well known to need any further comment in this place. This volume contains nearly 300 large duodecimo pages. bound in red cloth, $1.00. Copies to be forwarded by mail, $1.18, postage pre-paid.英文原著 · 《American Hand Book of the Daguerreotype》
It was a great consolation to him that he became a hero to all the West-Siders and was promoted for bravery in the field to the rank of first lieutenant. He had the sympathy of all his companions in arms and got innumerable bites of apples, cancelled postage stamps, and colored advertising-labels in token of their esteem.英文原著 · 《Boyhood in Norway》
"It is a whim of Placido's," said a friend who knew him well, "to take up political intrigue. It is not otherwise than as if he had come upon a new tempo in music, a new bacillus in the air, a new scent, or rhyme, or explosive. He will squeeze this revolution dry of sensations, and a week afterward will forget it, skimming the seas of the world in his brigantine to add to his already world-famous collections. Collections of what? ~Por Dios~! of everything from postage stamps to prehistoric stone idols."英文原著 · 《Cabbages and Kings》
No one in Alpine had said hello, Bud, when he came walking in that day. The postmaster bad given him one measuring glance when he had weighed the package of ore, but he had not spoken except to name the amount of postage required. The bartender had made some remark about the weather, and had smiled with a surface friendliness that did not deceive Bud for a moment. He knew too well that the smile was not for him, but for his patronage.英文原著 · 《Cabin Fever》