hat they had missed that post.

Turning from this point George Aspel observed that the box for letters--
closing, as we have said, half an hour later than that for books and
papers--was beginning to show symptoms of activity. At a quarter to six
the long metal slit suddenly opened up like a gaping mouth, into which a
harlequin could have leaped easily. Through it Aspel could look--over
the heads of the public--and see the officials inside dragging away
great baskets full of letters to be manipulated in the mysterious realms
inside. At five minutes to six the rush towards this mouth was
incessant, and the operations at the newspaper-tomb were pretty much
repeated, though, of course, the contents of bags and baskets were not
quite so ponderous. At one side of the mouth stood an official in a red
coat, at the other a policeman. These assisted the public to empty
their baskets and trays, gave information, sometimes advice, and kept
people moving on. Little boys there, as elsewhere, had a strong
tendency to skylark and gaze at the busy officials inside, to the
obstruction of the way. The policeman checked their propensities. A
stout elderly female panted towards the mouth with a letter in one hand
and a paper in the other. She had full two minutes and a half to spare,
but felt convinced she was too late. The red-coated official posted her
letter, and pointed out the proper place for the newspaper. At two
minutes to six anxious people began to run while yet in the street.
Cool personages, seeing the clock, and feeling safe, affected an easy
nonchalance, but did not loiter. One minute to six--eager looks were on
the faces of those who, from all sides, converged towards the great
receiving-box. The active sprang up the wide stairs at a bound, heaved
in their bundles, or packets, or single missives, and heaved sighs of
relief after them; the timid stumbled on the stairs and blundered up to
the mouth; while the hasty almost plunged into it bodily. Even at this
critical moment there were lulls in the rush. Once there was almost a
dead pause, and at that moment an exquisite sauntered towards the mouth,
dropped a solitary little letter down the slope where whole cataracts
had been flowing, and turned away. He was almost carried off his legs
by two youths from a lawyer's office, who rushed up just as the first
stroke of six o'clock rang out on the night air. Slowly and grandly it
tolled from St. Paul's, whose mighty d