The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1892-04-11
POSFOPFICB GHOSTS.
Frightened Mail Clerks Hear
Uncanny Noises.
How Gasman Spread CONSERVATION Thr ugh
the Old Washing tol Street Build
ing Last Saturday,

Everybody employed In the Postoffica
from the high an mighty officials in The
front to the youngest letter-carrier in tie
b ack Office, was frightened on Saturday
afternoon and some of them lookei Sill
scared yesterday.
1t was nothing tangible that caused Gen
eral Bsckus' small army to show the white
feather.
The blanched faces and trembling knee
vi sible all along the line were brough
about by what appeared TO be the super
natural.
Oh ostly noises and loud spirit raps
could be heard coming apparently FROM tie
bowels OF the earth.
The clerks in the Mailing Department,
heard some distinct knocks az ainst tie
flooring of the room.
Some OF the carriers fed out OF the re
door. because they were sure that shout
were issuing from right beneath their feet
In the distributlng-room.
RICHARDSON AS A JUMPER.
Assistant Postmaster Richardson iumpel
three feeT In the air aud with quaveriHg
vose asked Secretary Doyle, who also
looked uneasy and ready to bolt, what D..
thought OF the strange subterranean noIsrs.
Doyie,s opinion IS not on record. Fear
had made HIM speechleSS.
In the Stamp Department ard or I'll
other side of the ball, whera the nluneg
order and registered letter clerks ara sta
toned, confusion reigned supreaf, and
general stampede seemed inminen ut.
A lady typewriter employed in the built
Ing, Who Is known to be an exceedingly E.
sUong-minded woman, ventured to su-ges;
tnat perhaps ITS no ghosts" and that some.
BODY might be kicking up a noise down in
the basement. This suggestion fell fiat a,
far as results went.
The basement OF the old Postoffice built
ing Is dark and uneanny place, in " cii
lot OF old rubbish is nloldering away
THE PosToFFICE BLACK HOLE.
1t is full Of half-decayed mail bags. boxes.
barrels and paper, which have been left un-
disturbed Tor many years.
The only entrance TO the basement i
through trapdoor. which when it i,
opened ON rare occasions reveals Il blacs
and yawning abyss.
a ladder is dimly visible leading to what
appears to be bOttomleSS pit.
None of the Postmaster's trusted en-
ployeS cared to start on an investigating
tour down that ladder. They preferred t.
listen TO the unexplained noises from below,
although they did make their hair stand
straight.
This state of affairs had continu 70
nearly three hours. when matters De, am.
so critical that suspension of business for
the day was seriously considered. But an
explanation came at last.
The cOl0red janitor found begrined
individual, covered with spider-webs and
black dust, crawling out of the half-opened
trapdoor mentioned, who as soon as lie was
able to speak said he was an employe of tile
gas company, and that he had descended
into the cellar early in the afternoon TO look
for an old gas meter which was supposed 10
be there.
THE GAsMAN's DILEMMA.
He found the meter all right, but when he
was ready to leave the place he discovered
that he was prisoner, the tTapd0or haying
been locked on him while he was busy
knocking his shins against all kinds of traps
in the shape of cGst-off rubbish.
The gasman said he had endeayored To
attract attention to his predicamens BY
knocking against the ceiling of his inyolua-
tary prison. but finally, when no assistance
came. he concluded that he had not been
heard, and, after finding the ladder, with
difficulty he climbed up to the door and pre-
ceeded to unscrew enough nuts to loosen
the bolt, so as to be able to open the trap
The janltor admitted that he had fastened
the door. not knowing that any enc was in
the cellar, and most Of the clerks felt much
relieved. There are some, however, whu
still cling to the belief that the raps they
heard on Saturday were messages from the
spirit world.