To Postmaster Hutchinson she wrote requesting that all letters addressed to the agency be returned to the writers, as she didn't "want any more of their money." The postoffice force was burdened with the task of mailing back to some 500 lovelorn men and maidens the letters which had accumulated in "Marie's" postoffice box. But the bleatings of the overgrown calf from Utah, and the wails of the maiden lady who desires a "flower" for a mate are both eclipsed by the mushy outpourings of a Chicago business man. This fellow evidently possesses the artistic temperament. Not only is he moved to write prose poetry, "to bay the moon of love," but he insists on inserting illustrative sketches of an ardent wooing. He has forged the white heat of his passion, which evidently puts Ella Wheeler Wilcox at her fiercest to shame, into pictures. Here we behold him, hand in hand with his beloved, under the kindly stars. There, more prosaic, it is true, but still quite passionate, is the drawing room scene, with the lady seated on his knee. Behold the works of genius when love impels. THE FESTIVE FARM HAND FRIVOLS. Among the hundreds of applications for a wife Detective Wooldridge found one from Jacob C. Miller, of Martinsville. Pa. Miller filled out the application blank as follows: Q. Where born? A. Lancaster, Pa. Q. What language do you speak? A. English. Q. Nationality? A. White. Q. Weight? A. 130. Q. Color of eyes? A. Greenish blue. Q. Color of hair? A. Brown on a little patch. Q. Complexion? A. Fair. Q. Circumference of chest? A. 36 inches. Q. Circumference of waist? A. 36 inches. Q. Circumference of head (just above ears)? A. 13 inches. Q. Circumference of neck? A. Wear 15-1/2 collar. Q. Profession? A. Farm hand. Q. Income per year? A. Nothing. Q. Extent of education: common, high school or university? A. Common. Q. Do you use tobacco or liquor? A. I use a little tobacco, but no liquor. Q. How much real estate do you own? A. Nothing. Q. Do any of the pictures we have submitted to you suit, and will you marry? A. Yes, the one with the turned-up nose. Q. If we secured you a wife worth $250,000 would you be willing to pay us a small commission for our trouble? A. Yes. THE FAKER AND THE PRESS. SOME NEWSPAPERS ARE BUNCOED, WHILE OTHERS WILLINGLY ASSIST RASCALS. Strangely enough, the abomination known as the "matrimonial agency," bureau or what-not, has succeeded in hoodwinking the great American press to a certain extent.