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THE HOME IN THE FOREST.
TO THE CHILDREN
Dear Little Friends:
 Since I told my stories of the meadow
people a year ago, so many children have
been asking me questions about them
that I thought it might be well to send
you a letter with these tales of the forest
I have been asked if I am acquainted
with the little creatures about whom I tell
you, and I want you to know that I am
very well acquainted indeed. Perhaps
the Ground Hog is my oldest friend
among the forest people, just as the Tree
Frog is among those of the meadow.
Some of the things about which I shall
tell you, I have seen for myself, and the
other stories have come to me in another
 way. I was there when the swaggering
Crow drove the Hens off the barnyard
fence, and I was quite as much worried
about the Mourning Doves' nest as were
Mrs. Goldfinch and Mrs. Oriole.
I have had a letter from one little boy
who wants to know if the meadow people
really talk to each other. Of course they
do. And so do all the people in these
stories. They do not talk in the same
way as you and I, but they have their
own language, which they understand just
as well as we do English. You know not
even all children speak alike. If you and
I were to meet early some sunshiny day,
we would say to each other, "Good morning,"
but if a little German boy should
join us, he would say, "Guten Morgen,"
and a tiny French maiden would call out,
"Bon jour," when she meant the same
These stories had to be written in the
English language, so that you could
un-  derstand. If I were to tell them in the
Woodpecker, the Rabbit, or the Rattlesnake
language, all of which are understood
in the forest, they might be very
fine stories, but I am afraid you would
not know exactly what they meant!
I hope you will enjoy hearing about
my forest friends. They are delightful
people to know, and you must get acquainted
with them as soon as you can.
I should like to have you in little chairs
just opposite my own and talk of these
things quite as we used to do in my kindergarten.
But that cannot be, so I have
written you this letter, and think that perhaps
some of you will write to me, telling
which story you like best, and why you
CLARA DILLINGHAM PIERSON.
April 15, 1898.