peful of daydreamers. For a while, indeed, the world looked
smilingly. The barge was procured and christened, and as the "Eleven
Thousand Virgins of Cologne," lay for some months, the admired of all
admirers, in a pleasant river and under the walls of an ancient town. M.
Mattras, the accomplished carpenter of Moret, had made her a centre of
emulous labour; and you will not have forgotten the amount of sweet
champagne consumed in the inn at the bridge end, to give zeal to the
workmen and speed to the work. On the financial aspect I would_ _not
willingly dwell. The "Eleven Thousand Virgins of Cologne" rotted in the
stream where she was beautified. She felt not the impulse of the breeze;
she was never harnessed to the patent track-horse. And when at length
she was sold, by the indignant carpenter of Moret, there were sold along
with her the "Arethusa" and the "Cigarette", she of cedar, she, as we
knew so keenly on a portage, of solid-hearted English oak. Now these
historic vessels fly the tricolour and are known by new and alien
names._

_R. L. S._

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION

To equip so small a book with a preface is, I am half afraid, to sin
against proportion. But a preface is more than an author can resist, for
it is the reward of his labours. When the foundation-stone is laid, the
architect appears with his plans, and struts for an hour before the
public eye. So with the writer in his preface: he may have never a word
to say, but he must show himself for a moment in the portico, hat in
hand, and with an urbane demeanour.

It is best, in such circumstances, to represent a delicate shade of
manner between humility and superiority: as if the book had been written
by someone else, and you had merely run over it and inserted what was
good. But for my part I have not yet learned the trick to that
perfection; I am not yet able to dissemble the warmth of my sentiments
towards a reader; and if I meet him on the threshold, it is to invite
him in with country cordiality.

To say truth, I had no sooner finished reading this little book in
proof, than I was seized upon by a distressing apprehension. It occurred
to me that I might not only be the first to read these pages, but the
last as well; that I might have pioneered this very smiling tract of
country all in vain, and find not a soul to follow in my steps. The more
I thought, the more I disliked the notion; until the distaste grew into
a sort of panic terror,