Wanted immediately--Five active, able-bodied jokers. Apply to me. None need come without a bag full. Fat folks preferred.... Large newspapers are on the decline. Old fashioned murders are getting scarce. Letters are merchandise--a quantity for sale at this office--only six cents a-piece! Something makes me spiteful. Trade fluctuates once in a while!... Short farewells are ominous. I can’t be with you all the time, my dear one, but, if we meet no more the fault will be your own! I will write to you periodically, with the patent assistance of types and steam--never forgetting your important aid--sixpence! Very Cheap! isn’t it. If you would say anything to me, write it down, mark “The Unexpected Letter,” on the back, and then cram it into that “hole in the wall” at the post office. Send me a pile of rich jokes, or if you have nothing original in that line, cheese and hoe-cake will not be refused.... All things must have an end--even I! Adieu! Number Two will pass along in about ten days--not voluntarily though--but if you want it send word! Rare dough in the bake. Don’t miss it. THE INVALID. * * * * * By this time the reader may be a little curious to hear the upshot of this magnificent and fair-promising scheme. At a given moment the whole corps of robust carriers was set in motion by command of Tirrell. Then what a ringing of bells and thumping of knockers was there, in that mighty city! How many fond expectations leaped in the bosoms of the fairest, as letters were announced to their pretty names! For about an hour all went off like a charm. Tirrell was in his element--passing hurriedly from street to street--advising, cheering, animating all. And as for Estabrook, he was so overcome with joy that he went up garret and stowed himself away among the old furniture, to reflect upon the question whether human nature was mutable, or not?