s of nature and those that utilize the marvellous to teach a
moral lesson. Choose among them as you will, for as the Spaniards
might say, "The book is at your feet; whatever you admire is yours!"

"Tales of Wonder" is the fourth and last of our Fairy Series in the
Children's Classics, so this preface is in the nature of an epilogue.
"The Fairy Ring," "Magic Casements," "Tales of Laughter"--each had its
separate message for its little public, and "Tales of Wonder" rings
down the curtain.

There was once a little brown nightingale that sang melodious strains
in the river-thickets of the Emperor's garden, but when she was
transported to the Porcelain Palace the courtiers soon tired of her
wild-wood notes and supplanted her with a wonderful bird-automaton,
fashioned of gold and jewels.

Time went on, but the Emperor, wisest of the court, began at last to
languish, and to long unceasingly for the fresh, free note of the
little brown nightingale. It was sweeter by far than the machine-made
trills and roulades of the artificial songster, and he felt
instinctively that only by its return could death be charmed away.

The old, yet ever new, tales in these four books are like the wild
notes of the nightingale in the river-thicket, and many are the
emperors to whom they have sung.

Whenever we tire of what is trivial and paltry in the machine-made
fairy tale of to-day, let us open one of these crimson volumes and
hear again the note of the little brown bird in the thicket.

KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN.

* * * * *

_Tales of Wonder_

_I Wonder_

Once on a time there was a man who had three sons--Peter, Paul, and
the least of all, whom they called Youngling. I can't say the man had
anything more than these three sons, for he hadn't one penny to rub
against another; and he told the lads, over and over again, that they
must go out into the world and try to earn their bread, for at home
there was nothing to be looked for but starving to death.

Now near by the man's cottage was the King's palace, and, you must
know, just against the windows a great oak had sprung up, which was so
stout and tall that it took away all the light. The King had said he
would give untold treasure to the man who could fell the oak, but no
one was man enough for that, for as soon as one chip of the oak's
trunk flew off, two grew in its stead.

A well, too, the King desired, which was to hold water for the whole
ye