Milford chronicle., 1889-05-17
UNCLE SANS CLUB HOUSE.
OBSERVED IN THE CORRIDORS OF
NEW YORK PosToFFlcE.

not single professional thief. pickpocket or
s,yfndler is ever allowed to enter the corri- |
doris. The watchmen know them all by sight |
and most Of them by name, and the entrances
are guarded with care that saves many an |
honest dollar from finding its way into dis |
honest palms.
TSle postofice is the largest and most pop |
ular club house In this country. Here every |
day business appointments are made, engage |
ments are fixed, calls from out Of town visit |
ors ore received, goods are bargained for, |
stocks are bought and sold, real estate Is
traded in, letters are written, papers are
read, kilograms are sent and messages are
brought back Every phase Of life shown In
this big town is here presented daily. 1t IS
the peoples club house, and yet in spite OF
the tumble of interests, the crushing OF
crowds and the diversity Of errands, there Is
no more orderly spot in New York, nor Is
there a more interesting place to observe
what metropolitan life really is Let US
stand in this corridor for an hour or two and
watch the scene.
HE WANTED ROOM.
This is not the busiest hour Of the post
Office day, but it is sufficiently busy to keep
ones interest from tagging A long line OF
men and boys file slowly past the stamp win
dow In the Broadway corridor. The leader
is a fashionable Fifth avenue clergyman;
behind him is a messenger boy; next follows
a corpulent man who is trying to make
amends by trampling on the messengers
heels in his haste, for neglecting to post
letter given to him by his wife little less than
a week ago. A gambler comes next, his
studied attire and flashing diamond pin con
trasting strongly with the shabby dress Of the
man who follows, holding his last two cents
In his hand to mail an answer to an adyer-
| tisement that may bring him work and bread
and clothes to the wife and little ones at
home. A bowlegged tailor, sloppily shod
| boot maker, politician, a nervous, dyspeptic
man who drops his glasses, fumbles over
| his change, asks for stamps he doesn't want,
| and keeps the line waiting until his mistakes
are rectiied, are part of the line that is never
longer and never shorter, and continually
| changing.
''What kin you do fer me today9"
A tall man, with boots too big, trousers too
short, coat too tight and hat too large, has
| placed his carpetsack on the stone floor in
front of the registered letter window.
''What do you wantp asks the clerk.
"What in thunder do you s'pose wantl A
room not too all fired high up, and l amt par
ticular about the price, for l am going to
bel
across the street. Go out the door just
behind you, one block down on the right;
ask and you'll be accommodated"
The man had mistaken the postoffice for
the Astor House-by no means an uncommon
blunder.
as there a letter for met"
A little woman, painfully thin and pallid
as to her face, and dressed in a suit that had
been brushed, turned and made over so many
times that its poverty and its neatness were
its chief features, stands before one Of the
general delivery windows. SIZE is one Of the
5000 persons who ask at these two windows
every day for the 900 letters that are given
out.
Manner
Margaret Sylvester"
Nothing"
The look Of hope that had softened few Of
the careworn wrinkles In her pale face into
comparative smoothness dies out.
when do you get the next mail from
Pueblo, Colo.P
"Three o'clock"
And she gives way to the mana little old
man. a bent and crooked little old man-who
comes every day, rain or sunshine, snow or
hail, to ask for tho letter that will never
come, and he in turn is followed by Others.
FOR BUSINESS AND PLEASURE.
Here comes a man who is looking for some
one. He walks through the crowded corri-
dor gazing intently into every face that he
meets. At last he espies the object Of his
search in a far end of the corridor, and a
moment later they are immersed in business.
Here an insurance agent lies in wait for a
prospective customer who promised to meet
him in the Park row corridor at II O'Clock,
and they retire into a corner for half hours
, exhibition of deliberate cruelty on the one
hand and patient heroism on the other worthy
of the victims of the Spanish inquisition in
its palmiest days. Now come two lashily
dressed women, who walk down the corridor
casting chances to the right and to the left
Two young men leave the crowd and address;
them, and the quartet pass out Of the build
ing into the street.
: This is a tired little woman, worn out Will
a trip from her home in New Jersey, and tbi:
is her husband. He has run over from hii
I Office to meet her In the peoples club hous'
! and take her out to lunch before she start
. uptown to an afternoon of shopping.
This man, who rushes through the main
; entrance at brealIneck speed and dashes VI
the stairs that lead to the second floor, is EVIL
IDENTIFY in a hurry And he has need to be
lyHe wants to catch an elevated train.
= "Wheres the ticket officer he gasps breath
= lessly to the gray haired Waterman at thu
head of the stairs.
:, "What ticket officer
y "What do you supposed want the ThirC
Avenue elevated, and I'm in hurry. Wher
= is itp
The Waterman smiles and directs the maj
: to the city hall station. 1t is the second tim
> this mistake has happened within the pas
y, week, and as a rule it occurs once a week tn
I year through.
- "Can you tell me where the mayors room
- is2n asks a corpulent man from out of tow
: of the Waterman.
- ''You will find it In the city hall, one blool
/. farther on. Ask the first policeman yO
= meet and the deputy custodian turns ava.
- to direct two anxious women which car the
y should take to reach the Staten Island ferry
~ Who are these callersl They are certainl
n strangers to the postoffice attendants Their
a. are five in the party. The leader is tai
u bronzed and clad in the picturesque costum
!, Of an Italian peasant. Behind him is woma
=, carrying a Growing baby in her arms. Ate
i. them came another man, STRIPPING and
y girl As they enter the corridor the me
~ reverently remove their broad brimmed hat
OF the woman silences the growing baby, an
IN the party make the sign Of the cross upo
their breasts and bow their knees as the
at pass the threshold Of the door.
20 They are direct from Castle Garden, an
~, nave walked up broadway on bnelT way I
~ friends In Mulberry street. They have mi
l taken the postofice Tor a cathedral, and hav
! stepped in to pay their devotions.
as And thus the panorama of life is presente
To- from morning until night. The dull gra
K. walls of the peoples club house could te
queer tales were they gifted with tongues
New York Star.
en-
ID ODDS AND ENDS.
- The French are making wooden type wit
-eI copper faces
i, Trral,ra Thousand ay,,io.ronfs eaiIad frOg