Listen for a few moments to my
tale of woe, and then say if you can strike a blow on my behalf. I
am an author, that is to say, I have written a book, and have lately
published it at my own expense. I was told by a friend of mine, who
has some experience in these matters (he is the Sporting Correspondent
of the _Fortnightly Glass of Fashion_), that it would be well for me
to make some arrangement with my publishers as to Royalty. I therefore
gave orders that presentation copies, suitably bound, were to be
forwarded to Her Gracious MAJESTY and the rest of the Royal Family,
including, of course, the Duke of CLARENCE. My publisher seemed
surprised, but offered no objection, and I was therefore able to
congratulate myself on having successfully smoothed over a difficulty
which, if I am to believe Mr. WALTER BESANT, too often troubles the
young author. This, however, is neither here nor there. I merely
mention the incident to show that I am not altogether lacking in
_savoir faire_.
As I said, I am an author. My book is a romance entitled, _The
Foundling's Farewell_.
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