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

Friendly Societies, Provident and Charitable Societies, and Penny Banks are allowed to deposit under special concessions as regards limits, and vast sums are dealt with annually in this way. Large numbers of these societies are managed entirely by the working people themselves, and the rules which are drawn up have to be approved by the Department before any money can be accepted. An application was once received from three trustees of a Friendly Society addressed to the Postmaster-General, who was at the time Lord Wolverton. From the alterations in the letter it was apparent that much discussion had arisen as to the proper manner in which a letter to his Lordship signed by three persons should be commenced. “My Lord” was evidently considered ungrammatical, and the letter eventually started with the words “Our Lord.” The effort to construct rules which shall pass muster with the Postmaster-General often appears to tax the members of the working class clubs considerably. Some try the grand style. “The objects of this club are the glory of God, the honour of the King, and the decent interment of our members.” Not so bad for a small burial club. Better, perhaps, still is this from musicians: “That the objects of the band shall be to work for Christ's Kingdom, the Bankshire and West Mercia Tabernacle to have first claim on its services.” Others endeavour to imitate legal phraseology with wonderful results. “Any member while on the funds carrying on his proper or improper occupation shall forfeit his benefit.” It would evidently be no use to plead that though you had earned other money while receiving benefits your luck was due to having successfully backed a winner. But in most cases the rules are drawn up in the people's own idioms. For instance, “Our Society is in case if a member should have a Pig Die with the Swine Fever or any unnateral death so as to receive the worth of the Pig out of the Fonds of this Society. We are cheefly agriculteral laberers.” I like the last touching confession. I like also the quiet assumption that the Postmaster-General will know what is the natural death of a pig.