Post Haste | Page 7

it's `all right,' that you've only to get your brother over as soon as possible, and he'll see to getting him a situation. The enclosed paper is for his and your guidance. Excuse haste.--Your affectionate coz, SARAH LILLYCROP."
It need hardly be said that May Maylands finished her letter with increased satisfaction, and posted it that night.
Next morning she wrote out a telegram as follows:--"Let Phil come here at once. The application has been successful. Never mind clothes. Everything arranged. Best love to all."
The last clause was added in order to get the full value for her money. She naturally underscored the words "at once," forgetting for the moment that, in telegraphy, a word underlined counts as two words. She was therefore compelled to forego the emphasis.
This message she did not transmit through her own professional instrument, but gave it in at the nearest district office. It was at once shot bodily, with a bundle of other telegrams, through a pneumatic tube, and thus reached St. Martin's-le-Grand in one minute thirty-five seconds, or about twenty minutes before herself. Chancing to be the uppermost message, it was flashed off without delay, crossed the Irish Channel, and entered the office at Cork in about six minutes. Here there was a short delay of half-an-hour, owing to other telegrams which had prior claim to attention. Then it was flashed to the west coast, which it reached long before the letter posted on the previous night, and not long after May had seated herself at her own three-keyed instrument. But there, telegraphic speed was thwarted by unavoidable circumstances, the post-runner having already started on his morning rounds, and it was afternoon before the telegram was delivered at Rocky Cottage.
This was the telegram which had caused Philip Maylands so much anxiety. He read it at last with great relief, and at the same time with some degree of sadness, when he thought of leaving his mother "unprotected" in her lonely cottage by the sea.
CHAPTER THREE.
BRILLIANT PROSPECTS.
Madge--whose proper name was Marjory Stevens--was absent when May's letter arrived the following day. On her return to the cottage she was taken into the committee which sat upon the subject of Phil's appointment.
"It's not a very grand appointment," said Mrs Maylands, with a sigh.
"Sure it's not an appointment at all yet, mother," returned Phil, who held in his hand the paper of instructions enclosed in May's letter. "Beggars, you know, mustn't be choosers; an' if I'm not a beggar, it's next thing to it I am. Besides, if the position of a boy-telegraph-messenger isn't very exalted in itself, it's the first step to better things. Isn't the first round of a ladder connected with the top round?"
"That's true, Phil," said Madge; "there's nothing to prevent your becoming Postmaster-General in course of time."
"Nothing whatever, that I know of," returned Phil.
"Perhaps somebody else knows of something that may prevent it," said his mother with an amused smile.
"Perhaps!" exclaimed the boy, with a twinkle in his eye; "don't talk to me of perhapses, I'm not to be damped by such things. Now, just consider this," he continued, looking over the paper in his hand, "here we have it all in print. I must apply for the situation in writin' no less. Well, I can do it in copperplate, if they please. Then my age must be not less than fourteen, and not more than fifteen."
"That suits to a T," said Madge.
"Yes; and, but hallo! what have we here?" said Phil, with a look of dismay.
"What is it?" asked his mother and Madge in the same breath, with looks of real anxiety.
"Well, well, it's too bad," said Phil slowly, "it says here that I'm to have `no claim on the superannuation fund.' Isn't that hard?"
A smile from Mrs Maylands, and a laugh from Madge, greeted this. It was also received with an appalling yell from the baby, which caused mother and nurse to leap to the rescue. That sprout of mischief, in the course of an experimental tour of the premises, had climbed upon a side-table, had twisted his right foot into the loop of the window-curtains, had fallen back, and hung, head downwards, howling.
Having been comforted with bread and treacle, and put to bed, the committee meeting was resumed.
"Well, then," said Phil, consulting his paper again, "I give up the superannuation advantages. Then, as to wages, seven shillings a week, rising to eight shillings after one year's service. Why, it's a fortune! Any man at my age can live on sixpence a day easy--that's three-and-six, leaving three-and-six a week clear for you, mother. Then there's a uniform; just think o' that!"
"I wonder what sort of uniform it is," said Madge.
"A red coat, Madge, and blue trousers with silver lace and a brass helmet, for certain--"
"Don't talk nonsense, boy," interrupted Mrs Maylands, "but go