The Spanish Chest

Produced by Vital Debroey, Charles Franks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team
who shared a winter spent in the Channel Islands and have now gone on a longer journey.
This little book I wrote for thee Thy friendly eyes will never see. It was not meant for critics' reading, Nor for the world that scans unheeding. For there are lines washed in with tears, As well as nonsense, mocking fears. Alas! thine eyes will never see This little book I wrote for thee.
Once upon a time a clever Japanese artist drew a sketch of a man who sat industriously painting, when, to his great amazement, all the little figures on his canvas came to life and began to walk out of the picture.
Something like that happened to this book. Books grow, you know, because somebody thinks so hard about the different characters that gradually they turn into lifelike people, who often insist on doing things that weren't expected. When this especial book began to grow, two persons who hadn't been invited, came and wanted to be in the story.
The author politely remarked that they were grown-up and couldn't expect to be in a book for young people.
They said that they were not so very grown-up, only twenty-three and a half and that they still knew how to play.
Connie said that her home was in the Island of Jersey where the story was going to be, and if she came in, she could make things much more pleasant for the other characters.
Max said that the story would go to smash without him, because he should be needed at an important moment.
So, because they looked most wistful and promised very earnestly to behave as though they were nice children, and not be silly, the author said they might have a share in the story.
Connie at once offered to lend her collie. So that is how the beach dog happens to be in the book.