ittle difficulty in understanding. When you have grown older,
however, and happen to look at this little book again, you will be
glad to be reminded of the historic event which the poem commemorates.
Now, about ourselves, when I asked in my last book, _The Missing
Prince_, for letters from my little readers, I had no idea that I had
so many young friends, and I can hardly tell you how delighted I have
been at receiving such a number of kind letters from all parts of the
world.
I do hope that I have answered everyone, but really there have been so
many, and if by mistake any should have been overlooked, I hope my
little correspondents will write again and give me an opportunity of
repairing the omission.
Such charming little letters, and all, I am happy to find, really
written by the children themselves, which makes them doubly valuable
to me.
And how funny and amusing some of them were to be sure! And what
capital stories some of you have told me about your pets.
Some pathetic incidents too; as, for instance, that of 'Shellyback,'
the tortoise, whose little owner wrote a few months after her first
letter to say that poor 'Shellyback' was dead.
I have been very happy to notice how fond you all seem of your pets,
for I have always found that children who make friends with animals
invariably have kind and good hearts. And the poor dumb creatures
themselves are always so ready to respond to any little act of
kindness, and are so grateful and affectionate, that I am sure it adds
greatly to one's happiness in life to interest oneself in them.
One of my correspondents, aged eight, has embarrassed me very much
indeed by suggesting that I should "wait for her till she grows up,"
as she should "so like to marry a gentleman who told stories." I hope
she didn't mean that I did anything so disgraceful; and besides, as it
would take nearly twenty-five years for her to catch up to me, she
_might_ change her mind in that time, and then what would become of
me.
Some of my letters from abroad have been very interesting. One dear
little girl at Darjeeling, in India, wrote a very nice descriptive
letter, and concluded by asking me to write "something about the
stars," and speaking of new stories brings me to another subject that
I wish to talk to you about.
You know that I spoke in my last book about writing a school story,
and one about animals. Well, when I found that so many of you wanted
to hear "more about the Wally
|