they don't often do us damage."

This remark led Miss Lillycrop, who had a very inquiring mind, to induce
Solomon Flint to speak about the Post-Office, and as that worthy man was
enthusiastic in regard to everything connected with his profession, he
willingly gratified his visitor.

"Now, I want to know," said Miss Lillycrop, after the conversation had
run on for some time, and appetites began to abate,--"when you go about
the poorer parts of the city in dark nights, if you are ever attacked,
or have your letters stolen from you."

"Well, no, ma'am--never. I can't, in all my long experience, call to
mind sitch a thing happenin'--either to me or to any other
letter-carrier. The worst of people receives us kindly, 'cause, you
see, we go among 'em to do 'em service. I did indeed once hear of a
letter being stolen, but the thief was not a man--he was a tame raven!"

"Oh, Solomon!" said May, with a laugh. "Remember that Grannie hears
you."

"No, she don't, but it's all the same if she did. Whatever I say about
the Post-Office I can give chapter and verse for. The way of it was
this. The letter-carrier was a friend o' mine. He was goin' his rounds
at Kelvedon, in Essex, when a tame raven seized a money letter he had in
his hand and flew away with it. After circlin' round the town he
alighted, and, before he could be prevented, tore the letter to pieces.
On puttin' the bits together the contents o' the letter was found to be
a cheque for thirty pounds, and of course, when the particulars o' the
strange case were made known the cheque was renewed!--There now,"
concluded Solomon, "if you don't believe that story, you've only got to
turn up the Postmaster-General's Report for 1862, and you'll find it
there on page 24."

"How curious!" said Miss Lillycrop. "There's another thing I want to
know," she added, looking with deep interest into the countenance of her
host, while that stalwart man continued to stow incredible quantities of
sausages and crumpets into his capacious mouth. "Is it really true that
people post letters without addresses?"

"True, ma'am? why, of course it's true. Thousands of people do. The
average number of letters posted without addresses is about eighty a
day."

"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 crump