“How strange! I wonder what causes this?”
Miss Lillycrop gazed contemplatively into her teacup, and Solomon became suddenly aware that Grannie’s plate was empty. Having replenished it, he ordered Dollops to bring more crumpets, and then turned to his guest.
“I’ll tell you what it is, ma’am, that causes this—it’s forgetfulness, or rather, what we call absence of mind. It’s my solemn belief, ma’am, that if our heads warn’t screwed on pretty tight you’d see some hundreds of people walkin’ about London of a mornin’ with nothin’ whatever on their shoulders. Why, there was one man actually posted a cheque for 9 pounds, 15 shillings loose, in a pillar letter-box in Liverpool, without even an envelope on it. The owner was easily traced through the bank, but was unable to explain how the cheque got out of his possession or into the pillar.—Just listen to this, ma’am,” he added, rising and taking down a pamphlet from a bookshelf, “this is last year’s Report. Hear what it says:—
“‘Nearly 28,500 letters were posted this year without addresses. 757 of these letters were found to contain, in the aggregate, about 214 pounds in cash and bank-notes, and about 9088 pounds in bills of exchange, cheques, etcetera.’—Of course,” said the letter-carrier, refreshing himself with a mouthful of tea, “the money and bills were returned to the senders, but it warn’t possible to do the same with 52,856 postage-stamps which were found knocking about loose in the bottom of the mail-bags.”
“How many?” cried Miss Lillycrop, in amazement.
“Fifty-two thousand eight hundred and fifty-six,” repeated Solomon with deliberation. “No doubt,” he continued, “some of these stamps had bin carelessly stuck on the envelopes, and some of ’em p’r’aps had come out of busted letters which contained stamps sent in payment of small accounts. You’ve no idea, ma’am, what a lot o’ queer things get mixed up in the mail-bags out of bust letters and packages—all along of people puttin’ things into flimsy covers not fit to hold ’em. Last year no fewer than 12,525 miscellaneous articles reached the Returned Letter Office (we used to call it the Dead Letter Office) without covers or addresses, and the number of inquiries dealt with in regard to these things and missing letters by that Office was over 91,000.
“We’re very partickler, Miss Lillycrop, in regard to these things,” continued Solomon, with a touch of pride. “We keep books in which every stray article, unaddressed, is entered and described minutely, so that when people come howlin’ at us for our carelessness in non-delivery, we ask ’em to describe their missing property, and in hundreds of cases prove to them their own carelessness in makin’ up parcels by handin’ the wrecks over to ’em!”
“But what sort of things are they that break loose?” asked Miss Lillycrop.
“Oh, many sorts. Anything may break loose if it’s ill packed, and, as almost every sort of thing passes through the post, it would be difficult to describe ’em all. Here is a list, however, that may give you an idea of what kind of things the public sent through our mail-bags last year. A packet of pudding, a steam-gauge, a tin of cream, a bird’s wing, a musical box, packet of snowdrops, fruit sweets, shrimps, and sample potatoes; a dormouse, four white mice, two goldfinches, a lizard and a blind-worm, all alive; besides cutlery, medicines, varnish, ointments, perfumery, articles of dress; a stoat, a squirrel, fish, leeches, frogs, beetles, caterpillars, and vegetables. Of course, many of these, such as live animals, being prohibited articles, were stopped and sent to the Returned Letter Office, but were restored, on application, to the senders.”
Observing Miss Lillycrop’s surprised expression of face, the old woman’s curiosity was roused. “What’s he haverin’ aboot, my dear?” she asked of May.