gination as if she had been suddenly plunged
over head and ears into a very ocean of letters. From that moment
onwards, during her two hours' visit, she swam, as it were, among snowy
billows of literature.

"This is the receiving-box--the inside of it," said Mr Bright, as he
led the way through a glass door into a species of closet or compartment
about six feet by ten in dimension, or thereabouts, with a low roof.

"This way ladies. Stand here on one side. They are just going to open
it."

The visitors saw in front of them a recess, divided by a partition, in
which were two large baskets. A few letters were falling into these as
they entered. Glancing upwards, they saw a long slit, through which a
number of curious human eyes peeped for a moment, and disappeared, to be
replaced by other eyes. Little spurts of letters came intermittently
through the slit and fell into the baskets. These, when full, were
seized by two attendants, dragged away, and replaced by empty ones.

Suddenly the upper lip of the slit, or postal mouth, rose.

"Oh, May, look!" exclaimed Miss Lillycrop eagerly.

Not only the eyes but the heads and shoulders of the moving public now
became visible to those inside, while the intermittent spurts became
gradually a continuous shower of letters. The full significance of the
old superscription, "Haste, post haste, for thy life," now began to dawn
on Miss Lillycrop. The hurry, mentioned elsewhere in our description of
the outside view, increased as the minutes of grace flew by, and the
visitors fairly laughed aloud when they saw the cataract of
correspondence--the absolute waterfall, with, now and then, a bag or an
entire bandboxful of letters, like a loosened boulder--that tumbled into
the baskets below.

From this letter-fall Miss Lillycrop was led, speechless, by her
cicerone, followed by May, to whom the scene was not quite new, and
whose chief enjoyment of it consisted in observing her interested and
excitable friend's surprise.

Mr Bright led them back to the great sorting-room, where the energetic
labour of hundreds of men and boys--facing, carrying, stamping,
distributing, sorting, etcetera--was going on full swing. Everywhere
there was rapid work, but no hurry; busy and varied action, but no
confusion; a hum of mingled voice and footfall, but no unnecessary
noise. It was a splendid example of the power of orderly and united
action. To Miss Lillycrop it conveyed the idea of hopele