Posty

‘He is popping in and out—and popping every moment closer to us. Postmen cover the ground quickly; I must say that for them. There he pops out again! He is only two pops away from us now, mother,’ to a lady who sat at work within. ‘Aren’t you excited, mother? I tell you the posty is only two—now he is only one away!—he will be here immediately’—the syllables died from the speaker’s tongue—‘he—he—O Muriel, he is actually coming!’

“‘Wot was that knock?’ I sez to meself. An’ I dunno wot started me, fur I ’adn’t noticed it at the time. But wot if it was the posty? With that, I run dahnstairs into the shop. / “‘Who knocked?’ I sez to ’im. / “‘Postman,’ ’e sez.

Maybe the posty is nipping vodka on his rounds. Can’t say that I would blame him, just as long as we get our mail on time.