Nobody can complain of the last charge being excessive, but we are curious to know to what use if not for drinking purposes the other liquids were put. A man of advanced years applied in the Inquiry Office of the Department for an annuity, and he was asked to produce some evidence of his age in the shape of a certificate of birth or of baptism. He said he had no certificate of birth in his possession, but it might be possible for him to obtain a certificate of his baptism. The official told him this would meet the case, and the man departed. At the end of a fortnight the old man returned with a certificate of his baptism; he had complied with the instructions, although the certificate showed that the ceremony had only taken place the preceding day. When the poor man realised that this did not remove the difficulty he was most unhappy: he said he had had great difficulty in obtaining the certificate, and certainly the commercial value he attached to the rite seemed to justify the clergyman's reluctance to baptize this man “of riper years.” The same unconsciousness of the importance of a religious ceremony is often observed in the case of people who consider themselves married though they have no certificate. Many of the old Trustee Savings Banks have during the last twenty years transferred their funds to the Post Office, and when any particular bank is closing its doors officials from the Post Office Savings Bank attend to advise depositors who consent to their moneys being handed over. Here is a true conversation which took place when the Whitechapel Savings Bank was closing. There entered the bank a working man and a working woman. _Working Man._ Mornin', sir; what I came to see yer abaht is just this 'ere. If I puts my little bit in the Post Horfice 'ow abaht 'er (_pointing to the lady_) when I dies? Will there be any trouble abaht payin' 'er? There ain't no kids. _Clerk._ Of course you are married: in that case it would be all right. _Working Man (doubtfully)._ Married! don't exactly understand, sir. _Clerk._ Well, have you got any marriage lines? _Working Man to Working Lady._ 'Ave, we, Sal? _Working Lady (confidently)._ Na, not likely. _Working Man._ Well, young man, it's like this 'ere; we've lived together twenty year: she's my missus, I'm 'er 'usband, and I wants 'er to 'ave my little bit when I goes aloft. Ain't that it, Sal? _Working Lady (coyly)._ Yus. _Clerk._ Well, did you go to church to be married? _Working Lady._ Get out; not likely. _Clerk._ Did you go to a Registry Office? _Working Lady (indignantly)._ Not me. _Clerk._ Well, you'll excuse me saying so, but you are not married. _Working Man (puzzled)._ I dunno; yer see my missus and I 'ave been twenty years together, and it's 'ard on 'er if she can't get this 'ere brass. Can't say as it ever occurred to us to go to church or a Horfice. What am I to do, young man? _Clerk._ Why don't you get married? _Working Lady._ 'Ow much does it cost?