first words that met my eyes were:

"We have received the first number of a new weekly paper started in
this city, entitled the 'Literary Gazette and Weekly Reflex.' It is
neat, and appears to be conducted with ability. It will, no doubt,
receive a good share of patronage."

I threw aside the paper with an angry exclamation, and forthwith set
the editor down as a jealous churl. In one or two other newspapers I
found more extended and better notices; but they all fell so far
short of the real merits of my bantling, that I was sadly vexed and
disheartened. To have my advent announced so coldly and
ungraciously, hurt me exceedingly. Still, I expected the mere
announcement to bring a crowd of subscribers to my office; but,
alas! only three presented themselves during the day. Generously
enough, they paid down for the paper in advance, thus giving me six
dollars, the first income from my new enterprise and the earnest of
thousands that were soon to begin pouring in like a never-failing
stream.

My friends called one after another, to congratulate me on the
beautiful appearance of my paper, and to predict, for my
encouragement, its widely extended popularity. I believed all they
said, and more. But for all this, by the time the second number made
its appearance, my list had only increased one hundred. Still, on
reflection, this appeared very good, for at the rate of a hundred a
week, I would have five thousand in a year.

"Why don't you employ canvassers?" inquired one. "There are hundreds
in the city who will take the paper if it is only presented to