FOREWORD 



You see the reflex of this kindliness in all 

 the farm people. Such pampered, petted beasts 

 as live here ought to be happy enough to die. 

 After seeing how they are pampered and 

 petted, my greatest regret is that I did not 

 know enough to be born a creature with such 

 owners. But if these divagations keep up, I 

 shall never get anywhere in my story. It 

 meant to be the primest proper story, of how 

 some excellent good bi- plane people they 

 have wings for city and country rescued a 

 waif from the red scathe and racket of a New 

 York Fourth of July, and bore her off where 

 even the neighbors' firecrackers ceased from 

 troubling, and the weary sat up and took 

 notice that they might weary of rest. 



Rather that they might have wearied else- 

 where at the farm that is impossible. Because 

 you can choose there the full sweetness of 

 doing nothing, or put the little busy bee so 

 out of conceit with itself it feels suicidal. Such 

 lots to do, to see, to say, to eat. Wilt ride ? here 

 are horses. Wilt walk? here are woods. Ber- 

 ries in varieties for stealing flowers to pluck 



