THE CITY OF MANCHESTER 211 



that no further mistake will occur if you ^Yill kindly 

 request your correspondents to address you in future 

 as " the Mrs. Blank." ' 



Another adroit reply, though, I fear, one that 

 verged on the mutinous, occurs to me. I knew, in 

 the past, a Surveyor, a strict disciplinarian, ^who, 

 although an excellent officer and a just man, washable 

 to occasional accessions of irritability. On visiting a 

 certain office, the postmaster of which followed the 

 profession of chemist, he rebuked the official in no 

 measured terms. ' I am afraid, sir,' said the post- 

 master, ' you are not quite well to-day ; pray allow 

 me to recommend one of my patent liver pills.' The 

 Surveyor himself related this anecdote with zest, and 

 fully realized, and I trust benefited by, the home- 

 thrust. 



Another postmaster showed considerable readiness 

 in repartee, but that was in Ireland, where humour 

 is proverbial. 



Once, at a post-office in the West, Mr. Anthony 

 Trollope, when Surveyor, wished, for urgent reasons, 

 to inspect the official books on a Sunday. This being 

 demurred to, the Surveyor, a little nettled, declared 

 he would sit where he was until the books were 

 brought. 'Then, sir,' said the postmaster, 'you'll 

 just sit there till you die.' Exit Mr. Trollope. 



Reference to Ireland reminds me that a long time 

 ago seven Irish labourers, all brothers, named Doyle, 

 used to come over year after year to harvest on 

 Squire Vernon's estate at Hilton, near Wolverhamp- 



