Now when my companion said this I fell silent, for the very
sufficient reason that I found nothing to say.

"Lord love you!" said he at last, seeing me thus "hipped"--"don't
be downhearted--don't be dashed afore you begin; we can't all be
gen'uses--it aren't to be expected, but some on us is a good deal
better than most and that's something arter all. As for your book,
wot you have to do is to give 'em a little blood now and then with
plenty of love and you can't go far wrong!"

Now whether the Tinker's theory for the writing of a good novel
be right or wrong, I will not presume to say. But in this book
that lies before you, though you shall read, if you choose, of
country things and ways and people, yet, because that part of my
life herein recorded was a something hard, rough life, you shall
read also of blood; and, because I came, in the end, to love very
greatly, so shall you read of love.

Wherefore, then, I am emboldened to hope that when you shall have
turned the last page and closed this book, you shall do so with a
sigh.

P. V.

LONDON.