This is the first of a series of stories, of which it possibly may be
the beginning and the end. The incident, which is the foundation of the
following tale, was communicated to the writer, by a valued friend, as a
fact, with the name of the principal character. Another friend, to whom
the manuscript was given, perceiving some advantage in its publication,
has thought proper to give it to the world, as Number One; from which I
infer, that I am expected to write a Number Two. The hint may be worth
taking, at some leisure moment. In the mean time, pray read Number One:
it can do you no harm: there is nothing "_sectarian_" about it. When you
have read it, if, among all your connexions and friends, you can think
of none, whom its perusal may possibly benefit--and it will be strange
if you cannot--do me the favor to present it to the first little boy
that you meet. He will, no doubt, take it home to his mother or his
father. If you will not do this, throw it in the street, as near to some
dram-seller's door, as you ever venture to go: let it take the course of
the flying seed, which God is pleased to entrust to the keeping of the
winds: it may yet spring up and bear fruit, if such be the will of Him,
who giveth the increase.