o apology to the reader for entering thus minutely into the
character and experiences of a baby. That baby is the hero of our tale.
True, it is as a young man that he is to play his part; but a great
philosopher has told us that he always felt constrained to look upon
children with respect; and a proverb states that, "the child is the
father of the man."

Without either pinning our faith to the philosopher or the proverb, we
think it both appropriate and interesting to note the budding genius of
the wanderer whose footsteps we are about to follow.

Baby Will's mother was a gentle and loving, but weak woman. His father,
William Horace Osten by name, was a large, hearty, affectionate, but
coarse man. He appreciated his wife's gentle, loving nature, but could
not understand her weakness. She admired her husband's manly, energetic
spirit, but could not understand his roughness. He loved the baby, and
resolved to "make a man of him." She loved the baby, and wished to make
him a "good boy." In the furtherance of their designs the one tried to
make him a lion, the other sought to convert him into a lamb. Which of
the two would have succeeded can never be known. It is probable that
both would have failed by counteracting each other, as is no uncommon
experience when fathers and mothers act separately in such a matter. If
the one had succeeded, he would have made him a bear. The other, if
successful, would have made him a nincompoop. Fortunately for our hero,
a higher power saved him, and, by training him in the school of
adversity, made him both a lion and a lamb. The training was very
severe and prolonged, however.

It was long before the lion would consent to lie down in the same breast
with the lamb. Certainly it was not during the season of childhood.
The lion appeared to have it all his own way during that interesting
epoch, and the father was proportionately gratified, while the mother
was dismayed.

Boyhood came, and with it an increased desire to rove, and a more
fervent thirst for adventure. At school our hero obtained the name that
stuck to him through life--"Wandering Will." The seaport town in the
west of England in which he dwelt had been explored by him in all its
ramifications. There was not a retired court, a dark lane, or a blind
alley, with which he was unfamiliar. Every height, crag, cliff,
plantation, and moor within ten miles of his father's mansion had been
thoroughly explored by Will