It ran as follows: "Messrs.

Merrett, Barnacle, and Company are in receipt of Frederick Batchelor's application for junior clerkship, and in reply--" "What ?" I gasped to myself, as I turned over the leaf.
"-- would like to see Batchelor at their office on Saturday next at 10:15." I could hardly believe my eyes.

I rushed to my uncle and showed him the letter.
"Isn't it splendid ?" I cried.
"Not at all," replied he.

"Don't be too fast, you have not got the place yet." "Ah, I know," said I, "but I've a chance at least." "You have a chance against a dozen others," said my uncle, "who most likely have got each of them a letter just like this." "Well, but, of course, I must go on Saturday ?" "You still mean to try ?" said my uncle.
"Why yes," said I resolutely.

"I do." "Then you had better go to town on Saturday." "Won't you go with me ?" I inquired nervously.
"No," said my uncle; "Merrett, Barnacle, and Company want to see you, not me." "But--" began I.