The postman wears a khaki uniform. A khaki sack hangs by his side. There is a neat packet of letters in his hand. He is a common figure. He rises early. He goes to his office. He sorts letters. He takes charge of postcards, envelopes, registered post, money-orders etc. He puts most of them in his sack. Then he begins his daily round. The weather may be good or bad. He must go about. We find him always walking. He has also to climb up and down buildings. His life is hard. People wait for him eagerly. He brings news. He gladdens the hearts of many. He saddens the hearts of some. His news is gay or grave, glad or sad.

He is a very important public servant. Sometimes he goes on a strike. Then we come to know his importance. His work is simple. But it is tiresome and boring. There is no variety in it, no fun. It is the same everyday. But if this work stops, the whole world would stop. We must be thankful to this humble yet most useful servant of society. He is a silent worker. There is no show about him. We cannot do without him.