He scorns to subject the portrait of his lady-sovereign to the indignity of being tattooed like a New-Zealander.
He is a logician, and maintains that if a penny-postage be a good thing, a twopenny-postage must be exactly twice as good.
He enables others to do a double service to their country, rather than by doing half that service himself, prevent them from doing any.
He denies himself one pleasure that his fellow-creatures may have two.
He sympathises in the postman's joy at the receipt of twopence, as it brings back old times, and restores to him his youth.
He is so anxious to write to those he loves, that the stamp, hastily affixed, comes off in the letter-box.
Signing himself "your most obedient humble servant," of course he dares not take the liberty of paying for what you receive.
He is married, and leaves it to bachelors to pay single postage.
Mark his hand-writing, nevertheless; and when his unpaid epistle arrives, let your answer be, a copy of the "Times," supplement and all, sealed up in an unstamped envelope.