I AM a post-card. I am made of thick
paper. I am 51 inches long and 2 inches broad. My price is seven paisa. I am
quite black on one side. I am divided into two haves on the other side. There
is a green line to show this division. To the right of this line is printed a
seal showing my value and the name of my country. I am used for sending
messages from one place to another. I was made in a government paper mill, out
of the pulp of a tree growing in a jungle. I was cut to my present shap by
means of a cutting machine. I was pocked in bundles of twenty each, and was
sent to office of the postmaster General in a big box, along with thousand of
my brethren. One day, I was brought out in my bundle of my brethren. One day, I
was brought out in my bundle by a clerk and was sent to the Samanaad post
office. The sub-Postmaster sold me to an old man. He wrote a long message one
me in ink, on both the sides, and the address of his son at Gujrat. Then he
posted me face, put me in a bag along with many more, and sent me to the
Railway Mali Service. I travelled by train upto Gujrat. Then I reached the City
post-office in a bag. Later on a postman delivered me to the son of the old
man. He read me several times and, then, put me into his pocket. I had brought
him the news of a theft and he was feeling very sad.
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