A domestic servant who had invested in a Trustee Savings Bank about £100, entered the holy bonds of matrimony in 1826, when it might have been expected she would be ready to admit the man of her choice to a knowledge of her monetary worth; but instead of doing so, she concealed this matter from him, and he remained ignorant of it throughout the remainder of his life. The sum at her credit in the Trustee Savings Bank was afterwards transferred to the Post-office Savings Bank, and by dint of saving she added to that amount nearly £50 more. At length, in 1862, after thirty-six years of married life, she died, leaving her husband with three children, but without revealing what she had so jealously guarded, in the interest, no doubt, of her children. Not many months thereafter the man married again. The second wife seems by some means to have come to a knowledge of her predecessor's savings, and in order to pave the way to future possession, prevailed upon the old man to make a will in her favour, which he consented to do, not knowing that he was worth anything, and thus gratified a whim, as he might suppose, at small cost. The effect of this was, that, when the old man died, the second wife obtained the whole amount of the account, while the poor children, whose mother had kept her secret so many years in their interest, derived no benefit whatever from the savings which she had hoped to leave them. An Irishman who had managed to get some savings together in the savings bank was exercised as to the safe-keeping of his deposit-book, and he adopted the following plan to give himself peace of mind on this score:--First of all, he placed his book inside a box, which he then locked. This box he placed inside a second box, which he locked likewise. Continuing the series of operations, he locked the second box inside a third box; and then, to crown the business, hung up all the keys in a place where they were accessible to many persons. In a short time the book disappeared, and by forging the signature of the rightful owner, the thief succeeded in obtaining payment of the poor Irishman's deposits to the amount of about £100. This unfortunate depositor is a type of a considerable class of persons, who show themselves capable of carrying out plans to a certain stage, but fail in some one particular to give them the completeness necessary to success. Another individual who had some misgivings as to the safety of his deposit-book, suggested a plan for his identification, furnishing the necessary data, which were his age, and a statement that he had a scar under his left arm, known to himself alone. He desired that no one should be allowed to withdraw money from his account unless upon satisfactory information being given on these points.