Goodness, how they did drop. The Prince thought they must have dropped about nine hundred miles when at last the elevator stopped after giving a terrible bounce or two, and the Snooping Bug shouted: "Here we are!" Pranc wondered where "here we are" was as he looked up and down the street in which he presently found himself standing, and was about to ask the Snooping Bug, when all of a sudden somebody bumped into him and he turned to see a tall, slim fellow in a pink uniform with his hands full of letters which he had been reading as he walked along. Over one shoulder hung a leather bag which was crammed with other letters still in their envelopes, and on his head was a cap with a tassel and on the front of the cap it said "postman." "What do you mean," cried the stranger, sternly, "by interfering with the mails? Can't you see I'm on government duty?" "Oh, excuse me," said Pranc, "I didn't mean to bump you, and I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't been reading those letters as you walked along." "Indeed," said the postman, "well if I didn't read some of the letters as I walked about delivering them I don't know what I _would_ do. I can't read _all_ of 'em at night, you know." "But," said the Prince, "they are not your letters, are they?" "Of course not," said the postman, testily, "who would write me all this lot of letters? They belong to the different citizens of Snoopania." "Oh," said the Prince, "you don't read other people's letters, I hope." "Well," retorted the postman, opening his eyes very wide, "I should hope I did. If I didn't I'd lose my job. Every letter must be torn open and read, and every postal card must not only be read but committed to memory. I could shut my eyes right now and tell you what I've read on a million postal cards only I haven't the time. This is the way of it, you see: A postman's life is a busy one, His working hours are never done, For all of the letters the public writes He has to read at home at nights; And all of the postals, yes, sir-ee, He has to commit to memoree. And so if you think I'm cross a bit You'll know my job is the cause of it. As he finished he suddenly noticed the Snooping Bug. "For mercy's sake," he exclaimed, "when did you get back? I thought the Fairy Godmother had you bottled up." "She did," said the Snooping Bug, "but thanks to this noble boy I'm out again. Where can I find the First Lord of the Keyhole? I want to make arrangements for parliament to reward my rescuer." "Well," said the postman, "I think he's at his office right now, if you hurry." So, after bidding the postman good-by, the Snooping Bug hurried Pranc off to the office of the First Lord of the Keyhole.