“Telephone 239. “36A, Clare Market, “Telegraph, ‘Vindex.’ “W.C. “Dr. Sir, “Your estd. favor to hand. No stamp being enclosed with verses, we have retained same, but will forward on receipt of two stamps, including cost of this. “Faithfully yrs., “ALPHONSE RIPHRAIM. “Please note change of address.” By this Peter Gurney was so angered, that he walked straight over to his club, rang up No. 239, and told the editor of the _Patriot_, personally, by word of mouth, and with emphasis, that he was a Pro-Boer; then he rang off before that astonished foreigner had time to reply. But men of Mr. Peter Gurney’s stamp are not cast down by these reverses. He remembered one rather low and insignificant sheet called the _Empire_, in which a vast number of unknown names had been appearing at the bottom of ballads, sonnets, and so forth, dealing mainly with the foreign policy of Great Britain, to which country (as being their native land) the writers were apparently warmly attached. Peter Gurney flattered himself that he understood why the _Empire_ made a speciality of beginners. It was a new paper with little capital, and thought (wisely enough) that if it printed many such juvenilia it would, among the lot, strike some vein of good verse. He had heard of such ventures in journalism, and remembered being told that certain sonnets of Mr. Lewis Morris, and even the earlier poems of Tennyson, were thus buried away in old magazines. He copied out his verses once more, gave them the new title “Aspiro,” and sent them to the _Empire_. He got a very polite letter in reply:-- “Dear Mr. ---- I have read your verses with much pleasure, and see by them that the praise I have heard on all sides of your unpublished work was not unmerited. Unfortunately, the _Empire_ cannot afford to pay anything for its verse; and so large has been the demand upon our space, that we have been compelled to make it a rule that all contributions of this nature should pay a slight premium to obtain a space in our columns. But for this it would be impossible to distinguish between competitors without the risk of heartburnings and petty jealousies. We enclose our scale of charges, which are (as you see) purely nominal, and remain, awaiting your order to print, “Yours truly, “WILLIAM POWER.” I need hardly tell you that Peter, on receiving this letter, put two farthings into an envelope addressed to William Power, and was careful not to register or stamp it. As for his Poem, he changed the title to “They Live!” and sent it to the editor of _Criticism_. Next day he was not a little astonished to get his verses back, folded up in the following waggish letter:-- “The Laurels, “20, Poplar Grove, “S.W. “Monday, the 21st of April. “Sir,