it was a letter like this. And when, in a very short time, the
story was published, we found that the reading public was
inclined to receive it with as much sympathetic interest and
favor as had been shown to it by the editors. My personal
friends soon began to express enthusiastic opinions upon it. It
was highly praised in many of the leading newspapers, and,
altogether, it was a great literary success. I am not inclined
to be vain of my writings, and, in general, my wife tells me,
I think too little of them. But I did feel a good deal of pride
and satisfaction in the success of "His Wife's Deceased Sister."
If it did not make my fortune, as my wife asserted it would, it
certainly would help me very much in my literary career.

In less than a month from the writing of this story,
something very unusual and unexpected happened to me. A
manuscript was returned by the editor of the periodical in which
"His Wife's Deceased Sister" had appeared.


"It is a good story," he wrote, "but not equal to what you
have just done. You have made a great hit, and it would not do
to interfere with the reputation you have gained by publishing
anything inferior to `His Wife's Deceased Sister,' which has had
such a deserved success."


I was so unaccustomed to having my work thrown back on my
hands that I think I must have turned a little pale when I read
the letter. I said nothing of the matter to my wife, for it
would be foolish to drop such grains of sand as this into the