A man named Grant once foi|und a box of old Papers in his dwelling||||||||house. Grant didn't like old things. So he burned most of the papers. But one of these papers was a letter. He read it. A well-known writer had written it.

'About a million|||||||hundred years ago nobody know about him|||this writer,' thought Grant. 'Nobody read his books. But now everybody reads him. Some people like to buy old letters. I can get a lot of money for this letter.'

But the letter looked dirty. So Grant decided to wash |||||clean it. He worked hard and soon the letter looked new. Grant was not|||||||was very happy.

He took the letter to a shop in London where they bought and sold old papers. 'I want to sell this letter,' Grant said to the man in shop. 'It is a well-known writer's letter. How much will you give me for it?'

The man looked at the letter for a long time. 'I'll give you two pounds for it,' he said at last.

'Only two pounds!' said Grant. 'But people pay ten pounds for old letters. And I have even cleaned it.'

'I can see that,' said the man. 'That's the mistake. People who buy old papers like dirty papers more than clean papers.'

Here comes the end.