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

The lost book is often a fruitful source of curious explanations and experiences. The moment when we start saving any money is of course one for much personal satisfaction. In some cases it may even induce wild exhilaration. A lady wrote to the Controller this delightful letter: “Having joined your Bank I put my Bank Book in the fire. Will you please see to it.” Another depositor writes: “My wife and me was having some words and she broke the book in pieces.” And yet another in the same vein: “Through a falling out with my wife she tore the Bank Book. I enclose the Relics.” The husbands, however, do not always have it their own way, and one wife writes as follows: “I had a quarrel with my husband on the day I lost the book. He stole my book once before. He denied the same as he does now.” We must admit that the evidence against him is merely circumstantial. Another man takes a morbid view of the characters of church-goers. “As I left it in church I do not expect ever to get it back with some other matters.” People have often complained of the want of privacy at our post offices when we desire to transact confidential business there. But we do not all suffer from shyness or modesty. A lady writes: “I was not aware that any leaves came out of my book. I was travelling about so much that I sewed it up in my stayes, and I never took it out except in the Post Office.”