Morning rolls around

SIR – Neil Sewell-Rutter (Letters, March 12) would like to receive early-morning deliveries of flat bread through the letterbox.

I remember very well the pleasure of fresh rolls for breakfast. These would be hanging in a string bag on the front door from about 7am, having been delivered by the baker’s boy.

This service had gone through the war and well into the Fifties, when I was a teenager. SIR – If Mr Sewell-Rutter lived nearer to me, I would add his letterbox to the list of those through which I regularly post Shrove Tuesday pancakes (with a lemon wedge), Easter biscuits, Christmas mince pies (tricky through smaller boxes) and Valentine treats. SIR – When delivering Brexit leaflets before the referendum, I discovered that one takes one’s life in one’s hands when trying to insert anything through a letterbox.

There are stiff, jaw-like brushes at the top and bottom – and, quite often, a fierce metal inner lip.

It is puzzling that postmen and postwomen manage to escape each day without losing their fingers. Any bread popped through a letterbox would surely finish up ready-sliced.