A large proportion of the depositors are still unable to read or write. A man, not connected with any Savings Bank account himself, wrote on behalf of a depositor and explained his action in this way: “I 'ad the whole business thro' my 'and cos he was an ilitrate.” This is clearly a case where a little knowledge may produce a swollen head.
“I am married and wish to carry on as before,” wrote a lady depositor. This is not the first time a daughter of Eve has made the effort to eat her cake and have it.
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.
“All our transactions with the General Post Office have been straight and above-board so far,” wrote the secretary of a society, thus holding out grim possibilities of what might be expected in the future.
“Any member who has a complaint can give it to the under-mentioned gentlemen who were elected at the committee.” So runs a rule of a working man's sick club, and it seems to me a far simpler plan than sending for the doctor.
“Help one another Infectious Diseases Club,” is the pleasant name of another society.
But perhaps the most human documents of all are to be found in the correspondence relating to the claims of deceased depositors' representatives. In hundreds of cases there are to be found tragedy and comedy, and glimpses of what the struggle of life means to the working populations. All accounts under £100 of deceased depositors who have left no will have to be distributed by the Postmaster-General under the Statutes of Distribution, and a difficult matter this is sometimes in the case of large families. Payment of these small sums is also made on production of a will, and these documents are often pathetic as well as amusing. Here is one: “I leave everything to my wife. I did not know it was wrong to sell those hens. I will be a teetotaller as near as possible. I have said things which had no meaning.” This was evidently written when the man was seriously ill, and we seem to understand at once his own little weaknesses as well as the trials of his wife. One likes especially the way he hedges about the drink question: there is evidently a chance of his recovery from the illness.
A mother on claiming the money deposited by her dead son was asked if the father were alive. “Father living but insignificant,” was her illuminating reply. A claimant to the money of a deceased depositor explained his omission to furnish a correct list of the next of kin in this way: “Her relations are robbing me through thick and thin, and I think it is my turn to start.” The Department declined to admit the cogency of the argument.
A person on applying for an insurance through the Post Office Savings Bank was asked among other questions to state the cause of his father's death. His answer was: “I don't know; I can't remember; but it was nothing serious.”
The son of a depositor claimed his father's money, but inquiries made by the Department revealed the fact that he was born before marriage, and consequently could not claim as next of kin. The claimant was delicately informed of his disqualification. He then tried to establish a claim as creditor of his father's estate, and sent in a bill containing the following item: “Shock to system on learning of my illegitimacy, £2, 5s.” This is what the late President Kruger would have called “moral and intellectual damage.”