HOW A WOMAN POSTS A LETTER.

Thames Star, Volume VII, Issue 2069, 21 August 1875, Page 4

HOW A WOMAN POSTS A LETTER.

Any day when you have time you can see how she does it by dropping into the post-office. She arrives there with the letter in her hand." It is a sheet of note in a white envelope. She halts in front of the stamp window, opens her mouth to ask for a stamp, but suddenly darts away andlooks at the letter to see if she made any errors in names or dates. It takes her five minutes to make sure of this, and then she balances the letter on her finger, and the awful query arises in her mind, "Perhaps it is over weight ?" She steps to the window and asks the clerk if he has a three cent stamp, fearing that he hasn't; and she looks over every compartment of her portemonnaie before she finds the change to pay for it. The fun begins as she gets the stamp-. She slides around to one side, removes her gloves, closely inspects the stamp, and hesitates whether to lick it or wet her finger. She finally concludes that it wouldn't be nice to show her tongue, and she wets her finger and passes it over the envelope. She is so loijg picking up the stamp that the moisture is absorbed, and the stamp slides off the envelope. She tries it twice more with the same success, and then, getting^ desperate, she gives the stamp a " lick," and it sticks. Then comes the sealing of the letter. She wets her finger again, but the envelope flies open, and after five minutes' delay she has to pass her tongue along the streak of dried mucilage. She holds the letter a long time to make sure.that the envelope is all right, and finally appears at the window, and asks —" Three cents is enough, is it? " "Yes, ma'am." "And this will go out to-day?" Cer- • tairily." " Will it go to Chicago without the name of the county on■? " ." Just the . same." " What time willit reach there ? " " To-morrow morning. * She sighs, turns the letter over and over, and finally asks, " Shall I drop it into one of those places there?" "Yes, ma'am." ,She walks up in front of the six orifices through which letters fall upon the table, closely scans each one of them, finally makes a choice, and drops —-no, she doesn't. She stops to see where it will fall, pressing her face against the window until she flattens her nose out of shape, and.she doesn't drop it into the place she meant to. She, however, releases it at last, looks down to make sure that it did not fall upon the floor, and turns away with a sigh of regret that she didn't take one more look at the superscription.—Detroit Free Press.