Apprentice Postman lancel handbags Stanley

Two candle lanterns glowed in the velvet, papery darkness of the main sorting office. The light was shining through the outer glass, filled with water so that the candle would go out if it was dropped; it made the lanterns look like the lights of some abyssal fish from the squiddy, iron-hard depths.
There was a little glugging noise in the dark. Groat corked his bottle of elixir and got on with business.
Be the inkwells filled, Apprentice Postman lancel handbags Stanley? he intoned.
Aye, Junior Postman Groat, full to a depth of one-third of one inch from the top as per Post Office Counter Regulations, Daily Observances, Rule C18, said Stanley.
There was a rustle as Groat turned the pages of a huge book on the lectern in front of him.
Can I see the picture, Mr Groat? said Stanley eagerly.
Groat smiled. It had become part of the ceremony, and he gave the reply he gave every time.
Very well, but this is the last time. Its not good to look too often on the face of a god, he said. Or any other part.
But you said there used to be a gold statue of him in the big hall, Mr Groat. People mustve looked on it all the time.
Groat hesitated. But Stanley was lancel handbags a growing lad. Hed have to know sooner or later.
Mind you, I dont reckon people used to look on the face much, he said. They looked more on the . . . wings.
On his hat and his ankles, said Stanley. So he could fly the messages at the speed of . . . messages.
A little bead of sweat dripped off Groats forehead. Mostly on his hat and ankles, yes, he said. Er . . . but not only there.
Stanley peered at the picture. Oh, yes. I never noticed them before. Hes got wings on
The fig leaf, said Groat quickly. Thats what we call it.
Whys he got a leaf there? said Stanley.
cOh, they all had em in the olden days, cos of being Classical, said Groat, relieved to be shifting away lancel bags from the heart of the matter. Its a fig leaf. Off a fig tree.
Haha, the jokes on them, theres no fig trees round here! said Stanley, in the manner of one exposing the flaw in a long-held dogma.
Yes, lad, very good, but it was a tin one anyway, said Groat, with patience.
And the wings? said the boy.

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