and Finette,” “Carlino,” and “Graceful” were repeated in
freshly learned Spanish, to many a group of brown-cheeked
little people on the hillsides of Sonora.
And now, long, long afterward, there stands on a shelf
above my desk the very selfsame worn green volume, read
and re-read a hundred times, but so tenderly and respect¬
fully that it has kept all its pages and both its covers; and
on this desk itself are the proofs of a new edition with clear,
beautiful print and gay pictures by Edward McCandlish!
To be asked to write an introduction to this particular
book seems insufferable patronage; yet one would do it for
love of Laboulaye, or for the sake of one’s own "little
past," or to draw one more young reader into the charmed
circle that will welcome these pages.
The two children who adored Laboulaye’s "Tales"
possessed many another fairy book, so why did this especial
volume hold a niche apart in the gallery of their hearts?
Partly, perhaps, because of the Gallic wit and vivacity
with which the tales are told, for children are never too
young to appreciate the charms of style.
You remember, possibly, the French chef who, being
imprisoned with no materials save the tools of his trade, and
commanded on pain of death to produce an omelette,
proudly emerged at last, bearing a savory dish made out of
the sole of his shoe?