Squads of the warriors, however, withdrew at intervals from the fight, to refresh themselves in the various kitchens of the basement. As we have said elsewhere, the members of the Post-Office provide their own food, and there are caterers on the premises who enable them to do so without leaving the Office while on duty. But on this occasion extra and substantial food--meat, bread, tea, coffee, and cocoa--were provided by the Department at its own cost, besides which the men were liberally and deservedly remunerated for the whole severe and extra duty. It chanced that Phil Maylands and Peter Pax retired from the battle about the same time; and met in the sorters' kitchen. "Well, old fellow," said Phil, who was calm and steady but looking fagged, to Pax, who was dishevelled about the head and dress and somewhat roused by the exciting as well as fatiguing nature of the work,--"Well, old fellow; tough work, isn't it?" "Tough? It's glorious!" said Pax, seating himself enthusiastically at the table; "I'm proud of my country--proud of the GPO--proud... I say, is that beef that I see before me? Hand me a dagger--no, a knife will do. You cut it, Phil, and help me first, 'cause I'm little." While Phil was cutting the meat Pax rested his head on the table, and was asleep almost instantly. "Hallo, Pax! rouse yourself!" cried Phil, giving his comrade a hearty slap on the shoulder; "up, lad, and eat--the battle still rages; no rest allowed till victory is ours." His little friend set to work at once, and the food and coffee soon banished drowsiness. A number of men were similarly engaged around him. But they did not feast long. Like giants refreshed, they returned to the scene of combat, while others took their places. And what a scene it was! Despite all that had been done, the hall might be described as waist-deep in letters! The fever had not yet abated. It seemed as if the whole world had concentrated its literary produce into one mighty avalanche on St. Martin's-le-Grand! The midnight mails worked off some of this, but a large portion of it still remained to be disposed of on Christmas-day, together with what the mails brought in on that morning, but the officers worked so well that between nine and ten on Christmas morning all were allowed to go home, with the exception of twenty-six, who volunteered to remain. Thus the battle was fought and won; the tables were cleared; the fever was subdued; and the pulse of the Post-Office was reduced to its normal condition. Think on these things, reader, when next you read the little card that wishes you "a merry Christmas!" Some of the facts and results connected with this great battle are worth recording. The number of _extra_ bags and sacks received at the chief office altogether on that occasion was 1401. The number of extra bags despatched was 2269; all of them were crammed full to their mouths, and the aggregate weight of these extra mails was 197 tons.