"Then your name is—is positively Joseph W. Miller?"—we inquired with some hesitation.
"It is"—he replied, with a toss of the head, which we thought slightly supercilious—"It is—Joseph X. Miller. But why do you ask? Good day! In a style epistolary and non-epistolary I must bid you adieu—that is to say I must depart (and not remain) your obedient servant, Joseph Y. Miller."
"Extremely ambiguous!" we thought, as he whipped out of the room—"Mr. Miller! Mr. Miller!"—and we hallooed after him at the top of our voice. Mr. Miller returned at the call, but most unfortunately we had forgotten what we had been so anxious to say.
"Mr. Miller," said we, at length, "shall we not send you a number of the Magazine containing your correspondence?"
"Certainly!"—he replied—"drop it in the Post Office."
"But, sir," said we, highly embarrassed,—"to what—to what address shall we direct it?"
"Address!" ejaculated he—"you astonish me! Address me, sir, if you please—Joseph Z. Miller."
The package handed us by Mr. M. we inspected with a great deal of pleasure. The letters were neatly arranged and endorsed, and numbered from one to twenty-four. We print them verbatim, and with facsimiles of the signatures, in compliance with our friend's suggestion. The dates, throughout, were overscored, and we have been forced, accordingly, to leave them blank. The remarks appended to each letter are our own.
LETTER I.
Philadelphia, ——.