Sometimes so involved and difficult is the work put upon a slow-minded country sub-postmaster, that it is often a case of the blind leading the blind. A shaggy and a shambling man, obviously an agriculturist, entered a rural post office. He knew all about crops, and was firmly convinced that every sort of weather was bad for them. But he was weak in finance. However, it had come to his ears that it would be a sound scheme to invest money in the local post office. Therefore he entered the curious building—half grocer's shop, half village club, and perfumed with cheddar—that served as a post office. The sub-postmaster explained the system to the man.
“But, mister, can I withdraw my money whenever I want to?”
“Of course you can, fat'ead,” was the answer. “You can drore it ter-morrer ... if you give a fortnight's notice.”
The habit of talking to the people in their own idioms is to be commended. In rural districts it inspires more confidence, and is better understood than official regulations.
The sub-office is frequently an hereditary institution. It has been in the same family for generations. There is a sub-office at Churchill near Enniskillen, in Ireland, which has passed down in direct succession from father to son since the year 1750. In 1882 the salary was £3 a year, but the Postmaster-General specially increased the amount to £12 in consideration of the lengthened period in which the office had been held by members of the family.
The Post Office in Ireland in old days was served light-heartedly compared with these strenuous times. I have read in an old newspaper of 1821 how the postmaster of Lismore, aged ninety-seven, and almost old enough to know better, won a wager. He travelled to Fermoy in a Dungarvan oyster tub, drawn by a pig, a badger, two cats, a goose, and a hedgehog, with a red nightcap on his head, a pig-driver's whip in one hand, and a cow's horn for musical purposes in the other. In these days he would have had to furnish a written explanation to the Secretary. Possibly it would have been similar to that furnished by a modern sub-postmaster, who had been accused of certain vagaries in the performance of his duties: “I know I am not Perfect by a Long Way, but it does not make it any Better. I was not Drunk because I hadd no Bear.” The explanation of another respecting the misconduct of one of his subordinates was: “As Mr. —— is generally a careful officer, and was probably not on duty at the time the error was made, he has been let off with a caution.”
The Post Office has employed women in its service since the earliest times. The sub-postmistress of the village is often a most useful officer. She sometimes takes her duties more seriously than the man; she likes the opportunity of managing things which the office gives her: the sense of being “On his Majesty's Service” helps her to magnify her office. And she is usually quite refreshingly free from officialism. One of their number was asked in an official memorandum to state why she had not yet furnished an explanation of an irregularity a few weeks back, and she replied: “I was too angry with myself to do anything.” What need was there of an official caution in face of such sincere repentance!
But the sub-postmistress is often extremely strong-minded and masterful, especially if she is of mature years, and it is extremely difficult for either her chiefs or the public to move her in any course she has adopted. The Department was informed by one lady that she was about to be married, and when she was asked the usual questions whether she would remain the housekeeper, she replied magnificently: “I have made no change. I hold entire dominion over the present post office premises, otherwise there would be no marriage.” The proposal scene in this case must have been shorn of a good deal of the romance one usually associates with such experiences. Sometimes the sub-postmistress marries one of her male assistants, and she is in the proud position of being able to extract written explanations from, and to administer cautions to, her husband. And yet there have been instances where the public service did not suffer by this arrangement, nor was the home life apparently put much out of gear. Sometimes the sub-postmaster marries a female assistant, and I read in a service paper this touching confession of one of the inconveniences arising from such an act: “My wife is also my first assistant, and during the first three years of our married life we obtained our holidays together. Last year, however, exception was taken to this by the Surveyor, who stated my wife ought to take charge during my absence on annual leave. I appealed to the Secretary, and the decision went against me.” I think “the decision went against me” is a very pretty touch.
The sub-postmistress is of course often one of the village folk herself, and she is frequently exposed to gossip and unworthy suspicions. The lady who had charge of a certain village post office was strongly suspected of tampering with parcels entrusted to her care. If anything went wrong with them in any part of the Kingdom she was to blame. One day a rosy-cheeked youngster, dressed in his best clothes, entered the post office and carefully laid a huge slice of iced cake on the counter.
“With my sister the bride's compliments, and will you please eat as much as you can.”