The post office and its story an interesting account of the activities of a great government department

There are many stories in existence of the early days of the Money Order Office. All public offices have a sort of atmosphere of their own, a tradition of work and the manner of work which lingers persistently under altering conditions. When the Money Order Office came under the direct control of the Post Office it was a long time before it was able to shake off the traditions of its early history as a private concern. Those were the days before competitive examinations, and when men could be pitchforked into high positions in the Civil Service from outside without official experience. In 1841 a President was appointed to the new Money Order Office, and his claim to the post seems to have been that he lent the premises which he occupied as a timber-merchant for political purposes. These were burnt down, and as compensation for disturbance his political friends rewarded him with a position at the Post Office. If all the stories are true this ex-timber-merchant was a remarkable man and a still more remarkable official. Hourly his bell was rung. The messenger appeared. “What did I have last?” “Half a pint of stout, sir.” “Then bring me half a pint of bitter.” Another hour passed and the same form was gone through. “What did I have last?” “Half a pint of bitter, sir.” “Then bring me half a pint of stout.” It was said that until the Money Order Office was taken in hand seriously by the Department, the most conspicuous article of office furniture was the pewter pot. At about 11 A.M. the potman from the old “Raglan” opposite used to come over with a great tray full of pints and half-pints, and the clerks drank the health of their friends and themselves before tackling the arduous business of the day. The potman grew to consider himself a member of the Post Office staff, and he is said on one occasion to have sharply reprimanded the Secretary of the Post Office in language peculiar to his class, for not making way for the pots to pass him on the stairs. In the potman's eyes it was as big a crime as to delay the advance of his Majesty's mails.