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

The imagination of Rudyard Kipling was stirred by the runner tearing through the jungle with his staff and ringing bells. We all know the verses. I will quote two only:— “In the name of the Empress of India make way, Oh, lords of the jungle, wherever you roam; The woods are astir at the close of the day— We exiles are waiting for letters from home. Let the robber retreat, let the tiger turn tail— In the name of the Empress, the Overland Mail. With a jingle of bells as the dust gathers in He turns to the footpath that leads up the hill, The bags on his back and a cloth round his chin, And tucked in his waistband the post office bill— 'Despatched on this date, as received by the rail, Per runner, two bags of the Overland Mail.'” India has also its postwomen: I do not know whether many of them are runners. An old native woman in one district delivered letters for twenty years to the satisfaction of the inhabitants. She could neither read nor write, but her wonderful knowledge of the place and the residents enabled her to deliver her letters with perfect correctness after the addresses had been read out to her. India has also its humours in correspondence. Many of the postmasters of small village offices have a very superficial knowledge of the Queen's English. The vagaries of Baboo-English flourish in the Indian Post Office. An ordinary parcel was delivered to G. Humfress, whereas it was addressed by the sender as R. Humfress. The explanation of the sub-postmaster was: “G. Humfress and R. Humfress are both wife and husband to each other. They don't object to the delivery of the parcel to their address to any one of them.”