MY DEAR LITTLE FRIENDS:--These stories are of things which I have seen
with my own eyes in my own yard, and the people of whom I write are my
friends and near neighbors. Some of them, indeed, live under my roof,
and Silvertip has long been a member of our family. So, you see, I
have not had to do like some writers--sit down and think and think how
to make the people act in their stories. These tales are of things
which have really happened, and all I have done is to write them down
for you.
Many of them have been told over and over again to my own little boy,
and because he never tires of hearing of the time when Silvertip was a
Kitten, and about the Wasps who built inside my shutters, I think you
may care to hear also. He wants me to be sure to tell how the baby
Swift tumbled down the chimney into his bedroom, and wishes you might
have seen it in the little nest we made. When I tell these tales to
him, I have great trouble in ending them, for there is never a time
when he does not ask: “And what did he do then Mother?” But I am
telling you as much as I can of how everything happened, and if there
was more which I did not see and cannot describe, you will have to
make up the rest to suit yourselves.
Besides, you know, there is always much which one cannot see or hear,
but which one knows is happening somewhere in this beautiful great
world. The birds do not stop living and working and loving when they
leave us for the sunny south, and above us, around us, and even under
our feet many things are done which we cannot see. As we become
better acquainted with the little people who live in our dooryards, we
shall see more and more interesting things, and I wish you might all
grow to be like my little boy, who is never lonely or in need of a
playmate so long as a Caterpillar or a Grasshopper is in sight.
See how many tiny neighbors you have around you, and how much you can
learn about them. Then you will find your own dooryard as interesting
as mine and know that there are playmates everywhere.
Your friend,