"I convey the sack," said a sixth in triumph.
"What do you think I am?" another inquired. "You shall have six guesses."
"Give us a clue," said a voice.
"Very well. I'm a foolscap envelope."
Then the guessing began.
One said a writ.
Another said an income-tax demand.
But no one could guess it.
"I'm a poem for a paper," said the foolscap letter at last.
"Are you good?" asked a voice.