198 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



frequently run, the post-office part, by young 

 persons of severe mien and inexorable, impracti- 

 cable readings of rules and regulations, who must 

 have spent all their spare hours, including lying 

 awake at night and Sundays at church, chapel, 

 and all, in inventing new dodges for not doing 

 what was wanted. There was, I said, the branch 

 office at Canterbury. It was also a sweetstuff 

 establishment, and mighty handy while all went 

 well, because the mistress herself saw to the 

 wires, and she was a female man of the world 

 with no nonsense — kindly, obliging, and ready 

 to help. But, *'alas and alack!" someone next 

 door, or just close, took to keeping bees, the bees 

 took to robbing the shop's stock, and as another 

 apiary ''joint " also discovered this food bonanza 

 and, like the former finders, wanted all the lot 

 themselves, both factions got into bad tempers, 

 and made themselves, like the promoted rustic in 



"The Squire," d d nasty to some on 'em, 



including the shop's customers. Once I got 

 among what appeared to be a drunken swarm. 

 That was enough for me, so that handy office 

 was closed. Now, at St John's Wood you had to 

 walk all the way from the far side of the play to 

 beyond the church, and there cope with an awful 

 person on her own fighting ground. She might 

 condescend to attend to you at less than a 

 quarter of an hour's notice. Again, she might 

 not — most likely not — and when she did take the 

 wires in hand you had only just begun. Besides, 

 if she wanted her lunch, lunch it was, and you 

 might go to the devil — which was awkward, 

 because the "interval" did not allow for much 

 waste of time. Then the commercial instinct 

 had to be considered. Buns, bread, and so forth 



