> Exactly! MissMoon GETS it. That's just the response the
> letterboxing.org website is designed to evoke: you're on holiday
at
> your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine Covington's country
> estate. She has been called away suddenly without explanation and
you
> have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking staff is leaning
> against the wall and the collection case is overflowing with
> curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The scent of old
> tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and you spot
her
> cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment patch from
the
> Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a click and tiptoe
> over to the book, lift its cover...

and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........



Don in Ca. thinking it could be the theme from Twilight Zone.

> > cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment patch from
> the
> > Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a click and
tiptoe
> > over to the book, lift its cover...
>
> and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
> thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
> cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of
you.
> The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was
passing
> by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
> The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
> shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........


But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?

You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...

and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........

But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?

"Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
a lock."

You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."

"With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.

> You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
> Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
> explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
> staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
> overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
> scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
> you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
> patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
> click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...
>
> and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
> thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
> cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
> The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
> by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
> The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
> shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........
>
> But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
> skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
> holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
> skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
> he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
> Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
> the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
> sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
> Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
> M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
> things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
> death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
> knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?
>
> "Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
> piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
> myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
> a lock."
>
> You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
> eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
> upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
> Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."
>
> "With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
> the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.


Mr. Peabody looked at the knife for just a second. He pointed it
back at me. Startled, I jumped back. Just in time too, as he
brandished a pistol with the other hand.
"What's this?" I exclamed.
Mr. Peabody was always full of surprises. But this! This was very
unexpected.

You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...

and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........

But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?

"Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
a lock."

You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."

"With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.


Mr. Peabody looked at the knife for just a second. He pointed it
back at me. Startled, I jumped back. Just in time too, as he
brandished a pistol with the other hand.
"What's this?" I exclamed.
Mr. Peabody was always full of surprises. But this! This was very
unexpected.

"I must know whether your intentions are for good or ill," Mr. Peabody
rasped.
"Why, my intentions are the same as yours, surely you know that, my dear
cousin. We haven't seen each other in years, but certainly you remember me
better than this," I squeaked, inching my way to the bookshelves behind me.

> You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
> Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
> explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
> staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
> overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
> scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
> you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
> patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
> click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...
>
> and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
> thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
> cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
> The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
> by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
> The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
> shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........
>
> But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
> skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
> holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
> skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
> he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
> Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
> the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
> sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
> Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
> M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
> things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
> death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
> knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?
>
> "Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
> piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
> myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
> a lock."
>
> You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
> eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
> upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
> Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."
>
> "With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
> the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.
>
>
> Mr. Peabody looked at the knife for just a second. He pointed it
> back at me. Startled, I jumped back. Just in time too, as he
> brandished a pistol with the other hand.
> "What's this?" I exclamed.
> Mr. Peabody was always full of surprises. But this! This was very
> unexpected.
>
> "I must know whether your intentions are for good or ill," Mr. Peabody
> rasped.
> "Why, my intentions are the same as yours, surely you know that, my dear
> cousin. We haven't seen each other in years, but certainly you remember me
> better than this," I squeaked, inching my way to the bookshelves behind me.

As I backed warily away from the brandished weapons, I stumbled over
my aunt's rheumy-eyed bloodhound. He squealed in pain, rose slowly from
the warm spot he'd claimed on the threadbare Bokhara carpet. As a deep
rumble sounded from his throat, my left hip brushed against a protruding
volume, The CompleteWorks of Milton. With a groan and a creak, the entire
bookshelf swung inward, exposing a lightless corridor.

You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afghanistan, Arizona. The
scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...

and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
thumping you return to the door and to your surprise your distant
cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
shop in Havana. He asks you to join his quest.........

But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?

"Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
a lock."

You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."

"With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.
Oddly enough, after picking the lock and opening the drawer, there was a key inside. Ironic don't you think? I thought to myself "That can't be the key for what I think it is, can it?" I took the key and went to where I thought it would work. It worked. Upon opening opening the closet, the most horrific image possible was staring me in the face. It was Lady Covington's.......





---------------------------------
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[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

-------------- Original message --------------


> You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
> Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
> explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
> staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
> overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
> scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
> you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
> patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
> click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...
>
> and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
> thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
> cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
> The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
> by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
> The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
> shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........
>
> But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
> skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
> holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
> skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
> he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
> Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
> the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
> sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
> Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
> M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
> things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
> death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
> knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?
>
> "Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
> piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
> myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
> a lock."
>
> You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
> eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
> upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
> Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."
>
> "With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
> the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.
>
>
> Mr. Peabody looked at the knife for just a second. He pointed it
> back at me. Startled, I jumped back. Just in time too, as he
> brandished a pistol with the other hand.
> "What's this?" I exclamed.
> Mr. Peabody was always full of surprises. But this! This was very
> unexpected.
>
> "I must know whether your intentions are for good or ill," Mr. Peabody
> rasped.
> "Why, my intentions are the same as yours, surely you know that, my dear
> cousin. We haven't seen each other in years, but certainly you remember me
> better than this," I squeaked, inching my way to the bookshelves behind me.

>As I backed warily away from the brandished weapons, I stumbled over
>my aunt's rheumy-eyed bloodhound. He squealed in pain, rose slowly from
>the warm spot he'd claimed on the threadbare Bokhara carpet. As a deep
>rumble sounded from his throat, my left hip brushed against a protruding
>volume, The CompleteWorks of Milton. With a groan and a creak, the entire
>bookshelf swung inward, exposing a lightless corridor.

Grabbing a bottle of sherry, for who knows how long this adventure might take, I entered the dank corridor that lay ahead, armed with the sherry, a lantern and my wits. While proceeding down the corridor, I noticed that the walls were imprinted with the most oddly shaped characters - almost a pictogram. As I held my lantern to the closest wall . . .










Yahoo! Groups Links

To visit your group on the web, go to:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/letterbox-usa/

To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
letterbox-usa-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com

Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

> You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
> Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly without
> explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her walking
> staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
> overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
> scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air and
> you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
> patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
> click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...
>
> and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
> thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
> cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
> The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
> by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
> The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
> shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........
>
> But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
> skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
> holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
> skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
> he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
> Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
> the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
> sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
> Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
> M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
> things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
> death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
> knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?
>
> "Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
> piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
> myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
> a lock."
>
> You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
> eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
> upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
> Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."
>
> "With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
> the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.
>
>
> Mr. Peabody looked at the knife for just a second. He pointed it
> back at me. Startled, I jumped back. Just in time too, as he
> brandished a pistol with the other hand.
> "What's this?" I exclamed.
> Mr. Peabody was always full of surprises. But this! This was very
> unexpected.
>
> "I must know whether your intentions are for good or ill," Mr. Peabody
> rasped.
> "Why, my intentions are the same as yours, surely you know that, my dear
> cousin. We haven't seen each other in years, but certainly you remember me
> better than this," I squeaked, inching my way to the bookshelves behind me.

>As I backed warily away from the brandished weapons, I stumbled over
>my aunt's rheumy-eyed bloodhound. He squealed in pain, rose slowly from
>the warm spot he'd claimed on the threadbare Bokhara carpet. As a deep
>rumble sounded from his throat, my left hip brushed against a protruding
>volume, The CompleteWorks of Milton. With a groan and a creak, the entire
>bookshelf swung inward, exposing a lightless corridor.

>Grabbing a bottle of sherry, for who knows how long this adventure might
>take, I entered the dank corridor that lay ahead, armed with the sherry,
>a lantern and my wits. While proceeding down the corridor, I noticed
>that the walls were imprinted with the most oddly shaped characters
>- almost a pictogram. As I held my lantern to the closest wall . . .

The symbols produced an odd sensation. Somewhere deep in my mind, remnants.. tattered memories.. familiar yet foreign, otherworldly almost ancient... "How could that be?" I whispered. "I knew nothing of this place before..." Footsteps! It must be Peabody... "I must get away..."




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

You're on holiday at your mysterious great aunt Lady Silventine
Covington's country estate. She has been called away suddenly
without explanation and you have secretly snuck in to her study. Her
walking staff is leaning against the wall and the collection case is
overflowing with curiosities from Africa, Afganistan, Arizona. The
scent of old tobacco and fresh peppermint linger on the quiet air
and you spot her cluttered desk. There is an old volume, her regiment
patch from the Great War, a globe. You ease the door shut with a
click and tiptoe over to the book, lift its cover...

and just that moment a you hear a knock on the door. Your heart
thumping you return to the door and to your supprise your distant
cousin Major Nathaniel Peabody(USA, ret)is standing in front of you.
The Major is on a holiday and looking for adventure. He was passing
by Lady Silventine Covington's estate when he observed lights on.
The Major has in his possession a map he secured from an obscure
shop in Havanna. He asks you to join his quest.........

But 'ere you depart upon your treasure quest, you first must seek a
skeleton key that unlocks the drawer containing the code which
holdeth the true location of the treasure. Unfortunately, that
skeleton key was sent along its merry way with John Jacob Astor as
he returned from England to his beautiful home in the Pacific
Northwest. Needless to say, the key now lies buried either beneath
the waters of the frigid Atlantic or somewhere in Mr. Astor's
sprawling estate high atop the bluffs overlooking the mouth of the
Columbia River (or was that Maryhill???) My dear great aunt, Molly
M.C. Brown (may she forever rest in peace), always seemed to jumble
things up a bit. Now we'll never know the truth for it was upon her
death bed whence she painstakingly gasped out this last kernel of
knowledge... I wonder if that's the key to the drawer in Havana?

"Never know the truth?" you think, "Bugger this, my curiosity is
piqued. If the key is lost or unattainable - much like Aunt Molly and
myself, (respectively), good sir - there is more than one way to open
a lock."

You reach for the heavy, metal, military-issue knife that your
eclectic great aunt uses as letter opener. She leaves it sticking
upright in the wood of the desk - "Always keep your knife at hand"
Auntie said, "just in case....well, you know, for letters."

"With my brains and your brawn, Mr. Peabody?" You say, handing him
the knife and gesturing to the locked drawer.


Mr. Peabody looked at the knife for just a second. He pointed it
back at me. Startled, I jumped back. Just in time too, as he
brandished a pistol with the other hand.
"What's this?" I exclamed.
Mr. Peabody was always full of surprises. But this! This was very
unexpected.

"I must know whether your intentions are for good or ill," Mr.
Peabody rasped.
"Why, my intentions are the same as yours, surely you know that, my
dear cousin. We haven't seen each other in years, but certainly you
remember me better than this," I squeaked, inching my way to the
bookshelves behind me.

As I backed warily away from the brandished weapons, I stumbled over
my aunt's rheumy-eyed bloodhound. He squealed in pain, rose slowly
from the warm spot he'd claimed on the threadbare Bokhara carpet. As
a deep rumble sounded from his throat, my left hip brushed against a
protruding volume, The CompleteWorks of Milton. With a groan and a
creak, the entire bookshelf swung inward, exposing a lightless
corridor.

Grabbing a bottle of sherry, for who knows how long this adventure
might take, I entered the dank corridor that lay ahead, armed with
the sherry, a lantern and my wits. While proceeding down the
corridor, I noticed that the walls were imprinted with the most
oddly shaped characters - almost a pictogram. As I held my lantern
to the closest wall . . .

the dim light disappeared along with all other vision. The air
became still and heavy as the bookshelf swung back into place,
taking with it Milton and my link with my dear Aunt and her
comforting home. I heard a shuffle behind me, felt a heavy weight
lurch against my back, and felt myself thrust to the dusty stone
walkway as Major Peabody fell against me.
>
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--- In letterbox-usa@yahoogroups.com, "Drew Family" wrote:

> Jay in CT, who thinks the only thing missing from that room is the
> soundtrack from Myst.

Oh man, don't even give me anymore ideas for stamps, boxes or otherwise!
You're just encouraging this addiction ;-)

phyto