"Young's Night Thoughts," with a well dressed gentleman in mourning, looking at the moon. "How to Grow Rich, or a Penny Saved is a Penny Got;" I would have bought the book, and learned the secret, though I had but five shillings left in the world, had not the second part of the title intimated to me that I ought to keep my money. "The Castle of St. Altobrand," where a gentleman in pea-green might be seen communing with a lady in sky-blue. "Raising the Wind"--I turned away with a shudder; I had played a part in this drama for years, and I well knew it was no farce. "The Polite Letter-Writer, or"--I did not stop to read more; an idea flashed through my mind, and in two minutes more I was beside the counter of the stationer; we soon became acquainted; I left two and sixpence in his shop, and quitted it with renewed hope; the promise of a recommendation, two quires of letter paper, twelve good quills, and some ink in a small phial. I rejoiced at having made a friend, even of the stationer, for my pride and my property had long been travelling companions, and were seldom at home. On the following day, a placard was pasted to a window on the ground floor of a neat house, in the best street, announcing that "within, letters were written on all subjects, for all persons, with precision and secrecy;" I shall never forget the tremor with which I awaited the arrival of a customer! I had sunk half of my slender capital, and encumbered myself with a lodging; I did not dare to think, so I sat down and began, resolutely, to sharpen my penknife on the sole of my fearfully dilapidated shoe; then, I spread my paper before me; divided the quires; looked carefully through a sheet of it at the light; laid it down again; began to grow melancholy; shook off reflection as I would have done a serpent, and again betook myself most zealously to the sharpening of my penknife. A single, well articulated stroke on the door of my apartment, roused me at once to action, and I shouted, "come in," with nervous eagerness; it opened, and gave egress to a staid matron, of high stature, and sharp countenance; I would have pledged my existence on her shrewishness from the first moment I beheld her. When I had placed a chair for her, and reseated myself, this prelude to my prosperity commenced business at once. "You're a letter-writer, Mr. What-d'ye-call-'em." I bowed assent. "Silent--" "As the grave, madam."