PRACTICAL, ANECDOTAL, ETC.
The wrong Address--Odd Names of Post-Offices--The Post-Office a
Detector of Crime--Suing the British Government--Pursuit of a
Letter Box--An "Extra" Customer--To my Grandmother--Improper
Interference--The Dead Letter--Sharp Correspondence--The Irish
Heart--My Wife's Sister.
Giving the wrong State in an address, is a disease as common among
letters, as hydrophobia among dogs. A draper's clerk in C---- sent a
remittance to Boston which did not arrive there. The draper was
obliged to send the amount (three hundred and fifty dollars) again,
which he did personally, to prevent mistakes. This too failed to
arrive, but the first was soon received by him from the Dead Letter
Office, having died at Boston in _New York_, instead of
_Massachusetts_! The merchant drank gunpowder-tea, and gave his clerk
a "blowing up." The latter person, however, was in some sort avenged,
not long after, for Coroner John Marron reported that the second
letter, written and mailed by the merchant himself, had died of the
same disease that carried off the first, and forwarded the body to
him.
It should here be mentioned, for the benefit of the uninitiated, that
the gentleman referred to, is the Third Assistant Post Master General,
embracing the Superintendence of the Dead Letter Office. His duties
may be considered as in some respects analogous to those of a Coroner,
as he, or those in his bureau, in the case of defunct money letters,
ascertain the causes of death, and send the remains to surviving
friends.
The omission of the name of the State from the address of a letter,
often causes much uncertainty in its motions.
There are, for instance, seven Philadelphias besides the one in
Pennsylvania, twenty-three Salems, as many Troys, and no end of
Washingtons, Jeffersons, and other names distinguished in the history
of the country.
There are three New Yorks, and eleven Bostons. Indeed the majority of
the names of the post-offices are at least duplicated, and often
repeated many times, as we could easily show; but two or three more
specimens of this will suffice. Twenty-three Franklins, twenty
Jacksons, and sixteen Madisons, will help to perpetuate the memories
of the distinguished men who once bore those names.
The danger of a letter's miscarrying in consequence of the omission of
the name of the State on its direction, is of course reduced to
nothing, when there is no other post-office in the country with the
same name as the one addressed, especially if there is any oddity
about the name. Thus, were we to direct a letter to "Sopchoppy," it
would be likely to find the place rejoicing in that euphonious title,
even were the State (Florida) omitted in the address; although it
would often involve the trouble of consulting the list of
post-offices. "Sorrel Horse," also, could not fail to receive whatever
might be sent to it.
A teetotaler would not be surprised to find "Sodom" in "Champaign
County;" and while on this subject we would say that temperance views
seem to have prevailed in naming post-offices. We have two named
Temperance, and three Temperancevilles, to balance which, besides the
above Sodom, there appear only "Gin Town," and "Brandy Station," one
of each.
One given to speculation on such matters, would be curious to know
what must be the state of society in "Tight Squeeze." Is the "squeeze"
commercial or geographical? Do hard times prevail there as a general
thing, or is there some narrow pass, leading to the place, which has
originated the name? There may be some tradition connected with the
subject; at least a moderately lively fancy might make something even
of such an unpromising subject as "Tight Squeeze."
Far different must be the condition of things in "Pay Down." This
favored place is doubtless eschewed by advocates of the credit system,
and here Cash must reign triumphant.
Some villages seem to aspire to astronomical honors. There are in our
social firmament, one Sun, one Moon, and two Stars; also one Eclipse,
and a Transit, whether of Venus or not is unknown. So it appears that
the "man in the Moon," is not altogether a fictitious character, but
may be a post master.
The twenty-five thousand names contained in the list of post-offices
would furnish many other curiosities as noticeable as those just
cited, and we refer those who are desirous of entering more largely
into the subject, to that work.
It is sufficient for us to have called the attention of the public to
the necessity of exactness and sufficient fulness in the address of
letters, to insure their delivery at the place where they are intended
to go. Much vexation, and real inconvenience would be obviated, if
more care were exercised in this respect, and the Dead Letter Office
would have fewer inquests to make.
* * * * *
THE POST-OFFICE AS A DETECTOR OF CRIME.
The mails, as we have seen, afford facilities to the rogue for
carrying out his designs as well as to the honest man in the
prosecution of his business. But the post-office has been made,
accidentally or purposely, the instrument of bringing to light
criminals who had hitherto remained undetected; and whose deeds had no
such connection with the mails as those which have thus far been
described in this work.
A striking instance of this has been kindly furnished me by the
Cincinnati Post Master, relating to a case which has excited the
horror of the whole country. I refer to the Arrison case, most of the
circumstances of which are doubtless familiar to my readers.
It will be recollected that the man Arrison was guilty of murdering
the steward of the Cincinnati Hospital, and his wife, by means of a
box, containing explosive materials, which took fire by the action of
opening it. Arrison immediately absconded, and his place of retreat
remained undiscovered for some time; but he was destined to be
betrayed by a chain of circumstances, hanging upon an accident of the
most trifling description.
A letter came to the Cincinnati office from Muscatine, Iowa, addressed
to "P. F. Willard, Cincinnati, Ohio." The Muscatine post-mark was so
placed as to cover the P. in the address in such a manner as to make
it resemble a C. There being a young lawyer in the place by the name
of C. F. Willard, the letter was very naturally placed in his box.
Upon opening and reading the document, he found that its contents were
of the most mysterious character, and totally incomprehensible.
Finding thus that it was not intended for him, he very properly
returned it to the office with the request that it should be handed to
the post master. This gentleman calling to mind the circumstances of
the Arrison case, and being familiar with some of the names connected
therewith, came to the conclusion, after reading the letter, that
Arrison was the writer, and thereupon gave the information which led
to his discovery and arrest.
* * * * *
SUING THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT.
A clerk stationed at the "General Delivery" window of the post-office,
dispensing epistolary favors to the impatient throng without, was
suddenly confronted by a countenance flaming with wrath; which
countenance was part and parcel of the individual, now first known to
fame by the name of Mike Donovan, who had elbowed his way through the
crowd, and now stood before the astonished official, demanding
justice. Handing him a foreign letter, marked "24 cents," Mike
exclaimed in a tone of righteous indignation,
"Here, sir, is a letther that I paid twinty-four cints for, out of me
own pocket, and the letther is from Pat Cosgrove, me cousin in ould
Ireland, and Pat is as honest a boy as iver saw daylight, and Pat, he
says inside of the letther that he paid the postage, and so some
raskill has chated me, and I mane to make him smart for't; and I'd be
obleiged to ye if ye'd tell me who to _sue_. Bedad, it isn't me that's
goin to put up wid such rashcality."
Here he brought down his shillalah on the floor, to the imminent
danger of his neighbor's toes, with an emphasis strongly suggestive of
his fixed determination to exact the uttermost farthing from his
unknown defrauder.
The clerk informed him if any mistake had occurred, the British
Government was the delinquent, and therefore the party to be sued.
"Is it the British Government?" inquired Pat.
"Certainly," was the reply, "that's where you must look for your
twenty-four cents."
Mike settled his hat over his eyes, and walked out of the office with
an air of defiance to the world in general, and the British Government
in particular.
* * * * *
PURSUIT OF A LETTER BOX.
Timothy Boyle, entering the post-office one morning, and perceiving a
clerk "taking a limited view of society" through the aperture
technically called "general delivery," naturally supposed that the
duties of this functionary included receiving as well as delivering,
and accordingly handed him a letter adorned with the lineaments of
the Father of his Country, (not Tim's,) and bearing upon its exterior
this general exhortation to all whom it might concern,--"With spede."
The clerk directed Tim to deposit the document in the letter box.
"And where _is_ the letther box?"
"Follow this railing," said the young man, "and you will find it round
the corner;" meaning thereby the corner of the tier of boxes, which
was surrounded by a neat railing.
On the strength of these instructions, Tim turned on his heel, dashed
into the main street, ("with spede," as per letter,) and walked on
vigorously till he arrived at a corner, which happened to be occupied
as a tailor's shop.
"I want to put this letther in the box," said Tim, after looking about
him in vain for any sign of such a receptacle.
"What box?" asked the tailor.
"What box would I put it in but the letther box?" replied Tim.
"Who sent you here after a letterbox?" said the tailor; "you must be a
natural fool to suppose that we have any such thing here."
"Natheral fule or not, sir, I was towld by the clark at the
post-office that I'd find the box round the corner, and shure this is
a corner I've come to, and if it isn't here, I don't know where I'll
find it."
"You'd better go back to the post-office," said the tailor, "and see
whether the clerk can make you understand where to put your letter."
So the unlucky Tim left the tailor's shop with the impression that he
had been made a goose of by the post-office clerk, and by "nursing his
wrath to keep it warm," he succeeded in bringing it to the boiling
point, by the time that he again entered the office.
"And it's a purty thrick ye've bin a playin' me, Misthur Clark," he
vociferated, "sendin' me to a tailor's shop for a letther box! Bad
luck to ye, what for did ye put me to all this throuble?"
The clerk blandly explained to Mr. Boyle that the "throuble" was
caused by his own impetuosity, not to say stupidity, and finally
succeeded in describing the locality of the letter box in such a lucid
manner, that even Tim was guided by his direction to the much desired
spot, and it is to be hoped that the letter in question underwent no
more such vicissitudes, before it reached its destination.
* * * * *
AN "EXTRA" CUSTOMER.
An Irish dame entered the post-office at----, and walking up to the
post master with a letter in one hand, and a three cent piece in the
other, she committed them both to his charge, inquiring, "will the
letther go?"
"Certainly it will," was the reply.
"But is it in time for the extra?"
"In time for the _what_?" asked the mystified post master.
"Is this letther in time for the _extra_?" repeated the woman.
"What do you mean by extra," rejoined the official.
"I mane, is the _baggage_ put up?" replied the persevering questioner.
The post master, seeing that the good woman was so thoroughly posted
up in all the details of letter-sending, informed her categorically
that the letter _would go_, inasmuch as it was in time for the
"extra," and the "baggage" was _not_ "put up."
Hereupon the inquisitive lady, having been fully satisfied in her own
mind that the epistle would not fail of the "extra," sailed out of the
office a happier, if not a wiser woman.
* * * * *
TO MY GRANDMOTHER.
A little bright eyed, flaxen-haired boy, was one day observed to enter
the vestibule of the post-office at Washington, with a letter in his
hand, and to wait very modestly for the departure of the crowd
collected about the delivery window. As soon as the place was cleared,
he approached the letter box and carefully deposited his epistle
therein, lingering near as if to watch over the safety of the precious
document. His motions attracted the attention of the clerk stationed
at the window, whose curiosity induced him to examine the
superscription of the letter just deposited by the little fellow. The
address on the letter was simply, "To my dear Grandmother, Louisiana;"
doubtless some good old lady, whose memory, in the mind of her
innocent grandchild, was redolent of cake and candy, and all the
various "goodies" which grandmothers are generally so ready to supply,
to say nothing of the various well meant offices of kindness, to which
their sometimes blind affection prompts them. "Look here, my little
man," said the clerk, "what is your grandmother's name, and where does
she live?"
"Why, she's my grandma, and she lives in Louisiana."
"Yes, I see that on the letter, but it will never get to her if her
name isn't put on, and the place where she lives."
"Well, please put it on, sir."
"But I shall not know what her name is, unless you tell me."
"Why, sir, she's my grandma,--don't you know her? She used to live at
my house."
After the display of considerable ingenuity on the part of the clerk,
and a good deal of innocent evasion by the child, the old lady's name
and place of residence were finally ascertained, and added to the
address; after which the little one went on his way, rejoicing in the
assurance given by the clerk that now his "dear grandmother" would
certainly receive the important epistle from her darling.
* * * * *
IMPROPER INTERFERENCE.
A letter was once sent from the Dead Letter Office at Washington,
containing rail road scrip to a considerable amount. The letter had
been mailed in a Southern town, and miscarried, and it was returned to
the post master of that town for delivery to the writer. It so
happened that the writer of the epistle had failed in business, and on
the arrival of the letter the post master informed one of his
creditors, and an attachment was laid on the letter by the Sheriff.
The writer reported the case to the Department, when a peremptory
order was sent requiring the post master to return the letter at once
to the Dead Letter Office at Washington. It was sent, and the return
mail brought the post master's dismissal from office and the
appointment of his successor.
The post-office was worth $1200 a year, and the discharged post master
had abundance of time to count up the profits that might have been
made by acting up to the good old rule, "Let every man mind his own
business."
* * * * *
THE DEAD LETTER.
The following is contributed by "Dave," of the Columbus (Ohio)
post-office.
During my term of service at the General Delivery of this office, it
was my custom, upon receiving dead letters from Washington City, to
make a list of the names of the persons to whom they were addressed,
and stick it up in the lobby of the office, with a notice, "Call for
Dead Letters."
One day an elaborate specimen of Erin's sons, whose brawny fist and
broad shoulders seemed to denote a construction with an eye single to
American rail roads, lounged into the office, and up to the board
containing the aforesaid list. He looked at it a moment and burst into
tears. I spoke to him through the window, and asked him what was the
matter.
"Oh! Mr. Post Master, I see ye have a daid letther for me. I spect me
sester in Ireland's daid, and it's not awake since I sint her a tin
pound note to come to Ameriky wid--and kin ye tell me how long she's
bin daid, Mr. Post Master?'
I asked him his name, found the "letther," and after a request from
him to "rade it, sir, and rade it aisy if you plaze," opened it and
told him not to cry; that his sister was not dead, but that it was a
letter written by himself and directed to _Michael Flaherty_, BOSTON,
CHICAGO."
And is Michael daid, Mr. Post Master?"
"No, I guess not," said I.
"Well, who _is_ daid, sir?"
I explained to him that letters not taken from the office to which
they were addressed within a certain time, were sent to what was
called the Dead Letter Office at Washington City, and from thence, if
containing anything valuable, to the persons who wrote them.
"God bliss ye for that, sir, but Michael lives in Chicaga."
I told him I would not dispute that, but Boston and Chicago were two
distinct cities, and the letter was addressed to both, and that Boston
being the first named, it had been retained there, and his friend had
not received it.
"Sure and I thought Boston was in Chicaga! and that's what ye call a
daid letther, is it? Faith and I thought it was Bridget and not the
letther, was daid. Ye see, Mr. Post Master, Michael he writ home to
the ould folks that he lived in Chicaga, that he had married a nice
American lady, that she was a sea-cook on a stameboat, and that they
called her a nager. So whin I started for Ameriky, the ould modder,
Miehael's modder, she give me these illegant rings (the letter
contained a pair of ear-rings,) to give Michael's wife for a prisint.
When we landed at Boston, I wrote Michael the letther, tould him I was
going to Columbus to live, put on the name--Michael Flaherty, Boston,
Chicaga, and put it in the post,--and sure here it is, and Michael's
sea-cook nager niver got it. Bad luck to the ship that fetched me to
Boston, Mr. Post Master."
After offering to "trate me for the trouble" he had caused me, he
left, and ever after, when he mailed a letter he brought it to me to
put on the address, "Because he didn't understand these daid
letthers."
* * * * *
SHARP CORRESPONDENCE.
One of the Peter Funk "Gift-Enterprise" firms in a large city, sent a
package of tickets to a post master in Maine, the postage upon which
was fifteen cents unpaid. They got the following hard rap over the
knuckles, from the indignant official:--
"I herewith return your tickets. You must be fools as well as
knaves, to suppose that I will aid you in swindling my neighbors,
and _pay all the expenses myself_."
To which he in a few days received the annexed "settler:"--
Sir,
"We perhaps owe you an apology for sending the parcel postage
unpaid.
As we infer from the phraseology of your note, that you are
willing to swindle your neighbors if we will pay all the expenses,
please give us your lowest terms on which you will act as our
agent.
P. S. All communications shall be strictly confidential."
This note was promptly returned, with the following endorsement across
its face, by the post master:--
"It seems you are not only fools and knaves, but blackguards also.
Ask my neighbors if they think I would "swindle" them either at my
own expense or that of any one else."
To which this answer came back by next mail:--
"We _have_ inquired of your neighbors long ago, and that's the
reason we applied to you in the first instance."
Here follows the post master's final reply:--
"I acknowledge the corn. Send us your street and number, so that
I can call on you when I come to the city, and I may conclude to
aid your "Enterprise."
But that was the last thing that the "Gift" gentleman could think of
doing. In fact, secrecy as to his locality, was quite essential in
keeping out of the clutches of the Police.
* * * * *
THE IRISH HEART.
Many of the reading public will remember the sad accident which
occurred in Hartford, Conn., in the year 1853, when by the bursting of
a boiler connected with a car factory, several of the workmen were
killed. Among the killed were two Irishmen, brothers, each of whom
left a widow, with an infant child. These men had been industrious and
faithful toward their employers, and kind in their own households, so
that when they were taken away in such a sudden and shocking manner,
their sorrowing widows felt a double stroke, in the loss of
affectionate hearts, and in the deprivation of many of the comforts
which the hand of affection had hitherto supplied. Their little ones,
too, required much of their attention, and often seriously interfered
with their efforts to provide for the daily wants of their desolate
households.
About six months after the accident, the Hartford post master received
from the Department at Washington a "dead letter," which had been
written by these brothers to a female relative in Ireland, enclosing a
draft for ten pounds sterling, to defray the expenses of her passage
to America.
This anxiety on the part of these children of Erin who had come to
this land of promise, to furnish their relatives and friends whom they
had left behind, with the means of following them, is a striking
manifestation of that ardent attachment to home and its circle of
loved ones, which leads them to undergo every sacrifice in order to
effect a reunion with those for whose presence they long with
irrepressible desires, as they go about, "strangers in a strange
land." They have often been known to submit to the severest
privations for the sake of bringing over a sister, a brother, or some
other relative, without whom the family circle would be incomplete.
All this is but one aspect of the "Irish heart," whose warmth of
affection and generous impulses should put to shame many, who without
their ardent unselfishness, coolly laugh at the blunders and _mal
apropos_ speeches of its possessors, and attribute that to
shallowness, which is in truth but a sudden and sometimes conflicting
flow of ideas. As the mad poet McDonald Clark once wrote in an epigram
on an editor who had accused him of possessing "zigzag brains,"
"I can tell Johnny Lang, by way of a laugh,
Since he's dragged in my name to his pen-and-ink brawl,
That some people think it is better by half
To have brains that are 'zigzag,' than no brains at all!"
"By their works ye shall know them." It is comparatively easy to utter
the language of affection, and to express a vast deal of fine
sentiment; and much of this spurious coin is current in the world. But
when one is seen denying himself almost the necessaries of life, in
order to accumulate a little fund for the benefit of some one near to
his heart, though far away, we feel that there can be no deception
here. Like the widow's mite, it has the ring of pure gold.
The letter referred to, (which was sent back from Ireland in
consequence of some misdirection,) was full of kind feeling, and
manifested on the part of the writers a firm and simple trust in the
goodness of Providence. The post master sent word to the widows that
this letter was in his possession, and accordingly was visited by the
bereaved women, whose tears flowed fast as they gazed upon the record
which recalled so vividly the kindnesses of their departed husbands.
The little sum enclosed, as they stated, was the result of the united
efforts of the two families, who cheerfully joined in this labor of
love. How many a recollection of unmurmuring self-denial, with the
hope that made it easy; how many a remembrance of bright
anticipations of the happiness to be enjoyed, when the beloved one,
for whose sake these efforts were made, should be received within
their family circle; how many such things must have been brought to
mind by the sight of the missive, so freighted with affection and
memories of the past!
The post master informed the widows that by returning the draft to the
office from which it was purchased, they might obtain the money on it;
but they replied that since it had once been dedicated to an object
sacred both to the departed and their survivors, it must go back to
Ireland, and fulfil its mission.
So these poor stricken women, to whom ten pounds was a large sum,
(even larger than when the letter was first sent,) and who much needed
the comforts it would purchase, sent back the draft, and have since
had the happiness of meeting their relative in America, and seeing the
wishes of their husbands faithfully carried out.
This is but one of many constantly recurring instances of generosity
and devotion which come to the knowledge of post masters; and while we
have put on record some of the blunders of an impulsive people, our
sense of justice as well as inclination, has prompted us to make
public the foregoing incidents, so forcibly illustrating the warm
attachments that grace the IRISH HEART.
* * * * *
MY WIFE'S SISTER.
The most ridiculous errors and omissions sometimes occur on the part
of persons applying to post masters for missing letters. The following
amusing correspondence will illustrate this phase of post-office
experience:--
New York, 29th Jan. 1855.
Post Master New York.
Dear Sir,
A week ago last Monday, I mailed two letters, both having enclosures,
but of no intrinsic value, directed to my wife's sister in New Haven,
Conn., neither of which have ever reached their destination.
Very respectfully yours,
W. B. H----.
The above letter was forwarded to the post master of New Haven, after
having been read by the New York post master. It was soon returned
with the following pertinent inquiries:--
Post Office, New Haven, Conn., Feb. 1, 1855.
Solus!?
Well, that is a fix! What is that name? Is it Jonathan or Wm, B.
Haskell, or Hershel? Who'd he marry? How many sisters did his wife
have? What were their names? Who are their friends and relations
in New Haven? Is the lady here on a visit? Or, like a careful
matron, has she come here to educate her children? Egad, I don't
know! My library is wofully deficient in genealogy, and I shall be
obliged to "give it up." Who can tell me the name of "my wife's
sister?"
Yours truly,
L. A. T----.
The New Haven post master's letter was then sent to Mr. H., with the
annexed note:--
Post Office, New York, Feb. 2, 1855.
Mr. Wm. B. H----.
Dear Sir,
By direction of the post master, I forwarded your letter of
inquiry to the post master at New Haven.
He returns the letter to this office with a request that the name
of your "wife's sister" may be given to him, as he has been unable
to discover it, although possessed of a large library embracing
many works of a genealogical character. The P. M. at New Haven is
inclined to the belief that it will be difficult to find the
letter sent to his office, unless the name of the party addressed
is given to him. In this belief the P. M. at New York joins, and
the two P. M.'s hold concurrent opinions on this subject.
With all due apologies for the seemingly gross ignorance of the
post masters in this matter,
I am very respectfully
Your Obedient Servant,
WM. C----,
Secretary.