PREFACE. EW things are more difficult than to write a Preface. I have thought this over and over again, when in each returning year my labours have drawn to a close, and I have sat down to send a few words of kindly greeting to my readers. This, which is written by me after the bulk of my volume has been put together, is read most probably by you before you dip into the pages which follow. The desire naturally comes upon me to address words of farewell to this Thirty-First issue of my ANNUAL, which has occupied both hand and heart throughout the year that is gone. But farewells are always sad; and far be it from me to cast a shade of sadness on hearts that should be ever light and cheerful! Although I may have done with the Volume-at least in one sense-I trust that I have not done with its readers. Rather, I will hope, may I be spared for many happy years to come, that I may tell, as heretofore, of the simple deeds and pleasures of youth, the trials, troubles and heroisms, the joys and occupations of home and school, the chequered adventures by sea and land, the shipwrecks and happy returns, the daring struggles, toils, perseverance, fortitude and success, which make up the life of men and women, from the cradle to the grave! No farewell, therefore, but a greeting does this Preface bring, to all who read it. I have often thought, and more especially of late, how close a bond may be created between the writer and the reader of such a book as our ANNUAL. Written, as it is, more particularly for the young -for those who have not yet launched forth into the uncertain element of the Future, I have always aimed to make it in the first place not simply harmless, but beneficial; not simply entertaining, but useful; knowing as I do how readily a youthful mind will expand itself to take in every new impression, and how much influence one who writes professedly for boys and girls must necessarily exercise, either for good or for bad. This knowledge, and the pains I have ever taken to act up to it, have as it were bound my readers to me closer and closer every year with ties of affection and association. I seem to know them, one and all; to sit by their side as they read my stories; whether on the long summer evenings, in garden, or orchard, or flower-embroidered fleld, or by the cheery blaze of the winter fireside. It seems to me as if, having been friends once, we must be friends for ever; and it gladdens and supports me through all the labours |