"Her Majesty possesses one more faithful public servant than she is aware of, though its name does not transpire in the list of the Ministry. Every night at the General Post Office, Bristol, a spirited mare attached to the red mail-cart is brought, at a quarter before midnight, to fetch the bags of letters, &c. She stands perfectly still, waiting while the mails are sealed and tossed one by one into the vehicle. At the five minutes before twelve, however, should all not be ready for departure, her driver sings out 'Any more for the down train?' by way of hurrying the officials. No sooner does the mare hear those words than she begins to dance and curvet, showing in every possible way her anxiety to start and her sense of the importance of her duties. But if by any chance the first stroke of midnight should sound before they are ready to proceed to the station, she takes matters into her own hands, and nothing will then hold her in. Those who have to do with this clever and beautiful creature are very proud of her, on account of the example she sets of punctuality and attention to the affairs of the nation." The real facts on which this incident is founded were, that the horse (not mare) remained in the Post Office yard quietly from 11.10 p.m. until midnight on one particular night only, and not generally, and when the loading of the van commenced the horse became restive, the final slamming of the van doors causing it to start off for the street. In consequence of a repetition of this restlessness on another night, and "kicking-in" the front of the van, the horse was taken off the Royal Mail Service. CHAPTER XIII. TELEGRAPHS, TELEPHONES, EXPRESS DELIVERY. The Saxon King, Edmund I., doubtless never conceived, when he held court (A.D. 940-946) at his palace in the village of Pucklechurch, seven miles from Bristol, that in generations to come there would exist, as there does now, a telegraph office within a few yards of the site of his castle, whence a question could be wired to the ends of the earth, and a reply obtained in the short space of a few hours. Probably at that remote period a journey from Pucklechurch to the north of Scotland would have been considered as great an achievement as that in recent days of Dr. Nansen in his endeavour to get to the North Pole.