The Stock Exchange and Threadneedle Street branch offices, which for all practical purposes are one and the same office, do a very considerable amount of business direct from the floor of “the House,” and during times of exceptional activity of the Stock markets between 3000 and 5000 telegrams are handed in from the Stock Exchange between 11 A.M. and noon for onward delivery. The Threadneedle Street office is the busiest branch in the City. In dealing with the vast number of telegrams which pass between the different offices in the United Kingdom it would, of course, not be humanly possible for all to reach their destination without error. Everything possible is done to reduce the risk of telegraphic errors and failures, but where the condition of a wire is to some extent affected by climatic conditions, it is obvious that errors and failures may arise. On the whole, however, the percentage of errors to the number of telegrams dealt with is extremely small. Bad writing is often a source of error, and for this the senders are often to blame. To this cause might be attributed such an error as “Reserve me two stalls,” being rendered to the addressee as “Reserve me two stables.” But such an error as “Send three dog pies” instead of “Send three doz. pies” might have been caused either by bad writing, or by the failure of a dot in the signals for the last letter of the word. While such errors have their humorous side, there are some which are distinctly tragic. For instance, the rendering of a message “Child dead” for “Child bad” is due to the signals for “de” being run together or inaccurately spaced. Other sources of error are the incorrect transcribing of telegrams. For instance, in Cornwall there is a parish named Helland. The vicar was going to town, and hoped that his archdeacon could be induced to take the duty. The negotiations were entrusted to a brother clergyman and all went well. The latter despatched this telegram: “The Archdeacon of Cornwall is going to Helland. You need not return.” The vicar received with astonishment this message: “The Archdeacon of Cornwall is going to Hell, and you need not return.” There is probably still a vast amount of ignorance prevailing as to the _modus operandi_ of the telegraph. The use of the poles was once described as to hold up the wires and of the wires to hold up the poles. A simple maiden once said to her mother, “How do the messages get past the poles without being torn?” And the knowing mother replied, “They are sent in a fluid state, my dear.”