as a child, i was fond of stories, and well remember the dearth of the intermediate season, when "jack the giant killer," had ceased to please, and i was yet unprepared to enjoy works written for older and more cultivated minds. children require stories ingeniously written, with a pleasant tinge of romance about them to fix their attention, and a touch of pathos that goes to the heart, to make them good and happy.

in writing these christmas tales, i have earnestly hoped they may serve to while away many a weary hour, which finds its place even in the sunny days of childhood.

the scenes of most of these tales, will be laid in california, a land full of romance and beauty.

it is not strange to hear from the miners of "the early days," tales as marvelous as those of the "arabian nights."

of these "early days" i shall write, and of thevi spaniards, and mexicans who inhabited the country before the coming of the gold-seekers.

now as i send away the first volume of the series, i think of the children who will read it, of their sweet, innocent faces, and guileless hearts.

may the blessed christ, who smiles upon them in this holy christmas season, never leave them, but dwell in their hearts making them pure and happy forever.

may wentworth.

san francisco, 1867.