Saint Paul weekly Minnesotian., 1858-07-10
An Hour mt tho Dead Letter Office.

We had been fortunate enough to procur
the entree to this place though special favo
and influence, although, as general thing, M
visitors are admitted. 1t was q large, llgh
room,wth two or three desks, at which were
seated aged officers in silent occupation among
literal drias of letters. The walls were lin
ed on every side with huge mail sacks, which
had been returned full of unclaimed epist!es
from myriads of post Offices there might
have been fifty or a hundred of these sacks
and each probably contained thousands and
thousands of letters
How rapidly you disposed of them p
said l, watching the speed with which the
clerks tore open the epistles, glancing over
them to see that no drafts, checks, or other
important documents were enclosed, and then
threw them upon an immense heap of opened
letters at their feet.
1T is all habit, ma a'am," said the gentleman
nearest me. awe are accustomed to open a
certain number daily, and to those who do
not understand the expedition and accuracy
with which we work, it would seem, indeed,
almost Incredible"
As he spoke, tiny gold ring rolled from
the folds of a rose tinted letter, whose pages
were evidently written over by delicate fe-
male hand
"A child's ring" he said, taking it up 8
"would you like to look at it ma'am 2
took it in my hand-it was fairy circlet
of virgin gold, with the words ".Nary to E.
T." engraved within-and wondered who
the Mary was. and whether the little "E. w
who never received the tiny gift, was dead or
living.
Meanwhile, the clerk had been taking a
rapid note of the signature, direction, etc.
"What will you do with it 2" inquired,
returning the ring to his care.
We ;ay all such things aside, in case they
should be called for"
{" And are they often redeemed ?"
Not otten-not once in a hundred in
stances" he replied, taking little gold dol
lar from beneath the seal of another, and lay
ing it carefully under the desk.
We stood in silence, regarding the pile of
opened letters. which was growing higher
with every moment. 1t was strange medley
of styles ard hand writing. Some were in
scribed on huge sheets of foolscap, in man.
ner that conveyed the impression to your
mind that the writer must have grasped the
pen with both hands, and gone at the paper
as he would dig spade into earth, land folded
with glorious disregard of all geometrical
precision Others again we've dainty written
on colored issue paper, and some were in that
easy, flowing hand, that bespeaks energy
and refinement ofcharacter in the calligraph-
er.
"Oh, how I should like to read these let
ters," said !, voluntarily.
The official smiled. "This is what all the
ladies say. 1t would be almost impossible
to preserve our charge from the curiosity of
the female sex, if fortunately, our rules did
not protect us from many visitors"
" Do you ever read them ?'
Never, unless they seem very important
or contain Enclosures of amount. 1t is all
we can do to keep up with the arrival of the
dead mails now. If we were to stop to read
one letter in hundred,w we should be lament
ably behind hand ; besides the privacy of
these letters is point of honor with US
We have no more right to read them here,
when unnecessary, than to pry into any 9TH
er personal secrets"
Here one of the clerks leaned over and
handed our companions tiny package.
''From one of the letters" he said "I
thought the lady might feel interested
in it,"
1t was single curl of golden hair tied with
a bit of pink ribbon, and wrapped in lit
tie piece of paper, on which was written,
Baby's hair.'
l knew the history of that letter in an in
slant, though had never looked on its folds.
| could see the fair, young mother parting
the sunny tresses from the infant head, and
placing it with half smile and half tear,
within the closely written page that was to
gladden. the heart of the far away husband.
And he never received the letter. Perhaps
he died under the mighty shadow of Sierra
Nevada perhaps the turf of some Missis-
sippi valley lay close on his pulseless heart
while she,th faithful wife, was growing more
sad, less hopeful with every day that brought
on answering word.
Baby's hair p could not bear that the
bright curl should be thrown carelessly a.
mong the host of letters; it seemed like dis
Grafton.
May I keep this little lock ?'
Certainly, if you like"
And placed it carefully in my reticule
with tender hand. l know not where the
day by day, but certain am that there is
an invisible bond of sympathy between her
soul and mine, clasped by lock of curling
oHhy SOiu DaDy ualf
1t would be in vain to attempt to chronicle
the numerous Enclosures which dropped from
the various letters which were opened during
the short spaze of time we stood there
Bits of rainbow silk, sent for patterns" tiny
muslin, gold, cards, coarsely-written messages
from little ones at home, whose hands were
guided by the mother or sister, so that the
absent father, cousin or brother might have
a little letter, and innumerabe other affect
ting relics.
"Where do all these letters 90 when they
have been opened and examined -? Are they
burned2
"No; that was formerly the custom howev-
er. We used to make great bOnfires of them
but aside from the fact that bits of written
papers would always escape from the flames,
thus destroying all privacy in the letters. it
was found that many people made it buis-
ness to seek among the ashes for gold, Jew
els dollars, etc., which often escape our notice
here, and 60 out in the opened letters. So
now they are all sent to paper mill and re-
manufactured into writing paper"
We passed into another room where many
mementoes Of the good old days before the
law of pre-paying postage went into effect.
There were two or three huge stones which
had been sent for ga joke" involving an i'm
mcnse amount Of postage, to be pal d by
some unfortunate, who luckily never received
the ponderous package-a gigantic rag baby,
said to have been sent to some vinegar-faced
old maid a neatly manufactured night-cap,
which some indignant old bachelor-name
not recorded-reIused,in high duageon,to re-
ceive, and which consequently found its way
here, and daguerreotype Of young man,
which had cracked across the nose and
wrathfully sent back by some fair damsel with
whom he had quarreled.
We asked the Postmaster General to
whom we were introduced, how it happeued
that all the employees in the dead letter
Office happened to be gray-haired old
men.
Because they have more discretion
and less curiosity he said, smiling
CIV L III