This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 edition. Excerpt: ...you the full realization that what I say is only the truth. You, as a letter-carrier, are daily watched by a lynx-eyed world, and yet daily you pass unseen through the desolation of city streets. In the midst of tumult you are really alone. Although you bear tidings to others, you are scarcely seen by the ...
Read More
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 edition. Excerpt: ...you the full realization that what I say is only the truth. You, as a letter-carrier, are daily watched by a lynx-eyed world, and yet daily you pass unseen through the desolation of city streets. In the midst of tumult you are really alone. Although you bear tidings to others, you are scarcely seen by the hundreds who receive these messages from your hands. You are a great burden carrier in the season of gifts, and at such times you are buried under the mountains of cheering parcels you so faithfully bear to their destinations. You are the living perambulating evidence that it is more blessed to give than to receive. You are the tried and trusted messenger of Cupid, the official announcer of the Stork, and the Angel of Death. You can read the look of disappointment as it seeps through the brave smile that fain would hide it. I am not forgetful of your history, Mr. Postman, and the long chain of heroic mortals, all down the ages connecting you with the gods of old. You are the descendant of Mercury, the herald of Jupiter and the Messenger of Heaven. When I call you the Angel of Death, I do not mean that you bring death, but only the news of it. However, you should remember that in the days of Mercury, it was, indeed, a part of the letter-carrier's duty to conduct the souls of the dead "that gibber like bats as they fare down the dank ways, past the streams of Oceanus, past the gates of the sun and the land of dreams, to the mead of asphodel, in the dark realm of Hades where dwell the souls, the phantoms of men out-worn." I only mention this lest you forget your fearsome heritage. Has not the idea persisted even to this day that letter-carriers are messengers between worlds? You, of course, remember this little verse from the heart of a child, one...
Read Less
