be sure, I begin to know now,) as I take the letters off the tray, which
of those envelopes contains a real bona fide letter, and which a thorn?
One of the best invitations this year I mistook for a thorn-letter, and
kept it without opening. This is what I call a thorn-letter:--


"CAMBERWELL, June 4.

"SIR--May I hope, may I entreat, that you will favor me by perusing the
enclosed lines, and that they may be found worthy of insertion in the
Cornhill Magazine. We have known better days, sir. I have a sick and
widowed mother to maintain, and little brothers and sisters who look to
me. I do my utmost as a governess to support them. I toil at night when
they are at rest, and my own hand and brain are alike tired. If I could
add but a LITTLE to our means by my pen, many of my poor invalid's wants
might be supplied, and I could procure for her comforts to which she is
now a stranger. Heaven knows it is not for want of WILL or for want
of ENERGY on my part, that she is now in ill-health, and our little
household almost without bread. Do--do cast a kind glance over my poem,
and if you can help us, the widow, the orphans will bless you! I remain,
sir, in anxious expectancy,

"Your faithful servant,

"S. S. S."


And enclosed is a little poem or two, and an envelope with its penny
stamp--heaven help us!--and the writer's name and address.