I did offer the option of sending in a self-addressed stamped envelope for the less patient readers. I was consistently delighted to receive letters such as the following as a result:
Dear Purveyors of Decoded Literature:
My decoding skills are not what they once were, impaired by scablike lesions newly adorning my eyelids and a constant quivering tremor. Since my heretofore loyal reading-servant refuses to undertake the decoding task for me, and since I would rather spend my few remaining hours--before the wasting disease I have fallen victim to overtakes me with rainbow-colored sores and unquenchable boredom--enjoying the devilish heat and putrescent humidity of another Virginia day, I respectfully request that you mail to me, post-haste, the decoded version of your fabulous narrative, "The Man Who Had No Eyes." Yours in Misery, Mister Jim Johnston.