Wichita eagle., 1889-08-15

of the Queer Blupders That Are Made
Daily-The Letters That Never Come-A
Party of Italians Pay Visit.
1t is fact worthy of mention that among
the 80, 600 persons who daily visit the postofice
not a single professional thief, pickpocket or
swindler 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.
The postoffice 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 are 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 A 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 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 adver-
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 todays"
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 want?" asks the clerk
What in thunder do you s'pose 1 want? A
room not too all fired high up, and amt par
ticular about the price, for L am going to
bel
Anr, In CIV ont t,a i,7cf
behind you, one block down on the right;
ask and you'll be accommodated.
The man had mistaken the postoffice for
the Aston House-by no means an uncommon
blunder.
us there letter for ne?"
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. She is one of the
5000 persons who ask at these two windows
every day for the l GOO letters that are given
out
''Name?n
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. 2"
Three o'clock"
And she gives way to the mana little old
man, bent and crooked little old man-who
comes every day, rain or sunshine, snow or
hail, to ask for the 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 CORR
dor gazing intentiy into every face that he
meets. At last he espies the object Of his
search in q far end of the corridor, and
moment later they are immersed in business
Here an insurance agent lies in wait for
prospective customer who promised to meet
him III 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 lnquisition in
its palnlies5 days. Now come two fashily
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 q tired little woman. worn out with
a trip from her home in New Jersey, and this
is her husband. He has run over from his
Office TO meet her in the peoples club house
and take her out to lunch before she starts
uptown to ain afternoon of shopping
This man, who rushes through the main
entrance at breakneck speed and dashes up
the stairs that lead to the second floor, is evil
IDENTIFY in hurry And he has need TO be.
He wants 70 catch an elevated tram.
where's the ticket object" he gasps breath
lessly TO the gray haired Waterman at the
head of the stairs
What ticket oalce?"
'What do you supposed want the Third
Avenue elevated, and I'm in a hurry. Where
is itr'
The Waterman smiles and directs the man
20 the city hall station. 1t is the second time
this mistake has happened within the past
week, and as q rule it occurs once week the
year through.
Can You tell me where the mayors room
isl" asks corpulent man from cut of town
of the watchlnan.
you will find it in the city hall. one block
farther on. Ask the first policeman you