PREFACE, v

certain words which made me tremble: “ Ask papa, who
writes novels, to tell us some pretty story.”

I was on the point of protesting against this; but my
voice was drowned by cries of ‘‘Oh! yes, a story—we will
have a story!”

“But, my dear children,” I said, as loud as I could,
‘you ask me the most difficult thing in the world. A story
indeed! Ask me to recite one of Gay’s fables, or ‘ My name
ts Norval, if you will; and I may consent. But, a story!”

“We don’t want any dane out of the ‘ Speaker,” cried
the children altogether: ‘“ we want a story !”

‘“‘ My dear little friends, if-

“There ’s no ¢f in the case: we will have a story !”

* But, my dear little friends, I say again

“ There is no du¢: we will have a story !”.

“Yes; we will have a story! we will have a story!”
now echoed on all sides, and in a manner which was too
positive to object to any longer.

“ Well,” I said, with a sigh: “if you must, you must.”

“ Ah! that’s capital,” cried my little tormentors.

“ But I must tell you one thing,” said I: “the story I
am about to relate is not my own.”

** Never mind that, so long as it amuses us.”

I must confess that I was a little vexed to think that my
audience set so light a value upon my own writings.

‘‘ Whose tale is it, then, sir?” asked a pretty voice, be-
longing, no doubt, to some little being more curious than
the others.

“Tt is by Hoffman, miss. Have you ever heard of
Hoffman ?”

“No, sir; I never heard of him.”

A2