The other day, however, my eye and fancy were caught by a book entitled ‘How Shall I Word It?’ and sub-entitled ‘A Complete Letter Writer for Men and Women.’ I had never read one of these manuals, but had often heard that there was a great and constant ‘demand’ for them. So I demanded this one. It is no great fun in itself. The writer is no fool. He has evidently a natural talent for writing letters. His style is, for the most part, discreet and easy. If you were a young man writing ‘to Father of Girl he wishes to Marry’ or ‘thanking Fiance’e for Present’ or ‘reproaching Fiance’e for being a Flirt,’ or if you were a mother ‘asking Governess her Qualifications’ or ‘replying to Undesirable Invitation for her Child,’ or indeed if you were in any other one of the crises which this book is designed to alleviate, you might copy out and post the specially-provided letter without making yourself ridiculous in the eyes of its receiver--unless, of course, he or she also possessed a copy of the book. But--well, can you conceive any one copying out and posting one of these letters, or even taking it as the basis for composition? You cannot. That shows how little you know of your fellow-creatures. Not you nor I can plumb the abyss at the bottom of which such humility is possible. Nevertheless, as we know by that great and constant ‘demand,’ there the abyss is, and there multitudes are at the bottom of it. Let’s peer down... No, all is darkness. But faintly, if we listen hard, is borne up to us a sound of the scratching of innumerable pens--pens whose wielders are all trying, as the author of this handbook urges them, to ‘be original, fresh, and interesting’ by dint of more or less strict adherence to sample.