As I said, I am an author. My book is a romance entitled, _The Foundling's Farewell_. Of course you have heard of it. It is blood-curdling but sympathetic, romantic but realistic, pathetic and sublime. The passage, for instance, in which the Duke of BARTLEMY repels the advances of the orphan charwoman is--but you have read it, and I need not therefore enlarge further upon it. After it had been published two days, I began to look eagerly into all the daily and weekly papers for critical notices of my _magnum opus_. I persisted for a fortnight, and failing to see any, wrote an angry letter to my publishers. On that very day the last post brought me three letters in unknown hands. I opened the first listlessly, I read what it contained, and (may an author confess his weakness?) gave a wild shout of triumph when I found that one of the enclosures was a newspaper extract referring to my work. Here it is, as it appeared on the form enclosed:-- _THE UNITED ASSOCIATION OF COMBINED PARAGRAPHISTS_. MR. WILLIAM WHORBOYS. (_FROM THE PIMLICO POTTERER. JULY 6TH_.) "Amongst the books of the month we may notice _The Foundling's Farewell_, by MR. WILLIAM WHORBOYS, an author whose name we have not hitherto met with. It is a romance of surpassing interest, the subject being treated with all the convincing power of a master-hand. We shall look forward eagerly to MR. WHORBOY'S next work." With this there came a polite letter from the U.A.C.P., asking me to allow them to supply me with all newspaper cuttings referring to me or to my book from "the entire English, American, and Continental Press." Another leaflet stated the terms on which they were prepared to take this immense trouble on my behalf.