Dandelion Days
Henry Williamson
Paperback
(Forgotten Books, Aug. 11, 2012)
My Dear Bakers, For some time past I have been undecided whether to let you see this letter before you read the tale. My original intentio7i was to attach it to the end of the story, lest its presence at the beginning might deter you from reading the book. Upon reflection, however, I have decided to be honest with you, to put my faith in your patience. You may remember myself coming to see you, a year after the end of the war, with the manuscript of a book hidden in an old army blanket. The blanket was not recognisable as such, since with considerable skill I had fashioned an overcoat from it; the script I had written during three weeks of fierce midnights and famishing morrows, following an almost intolerable pain. Nevertheless, you managed to read approximately 100,000 words of my tale. The kindly encouragement you gave me, the hopes you aroused, and most of all, your friendship, were directly responsible for my eventual retirement to the remote country, there to devote all my time and energy to the recasting of my whole scheme and the selection of characters and episodes that woidd bear their part in its presentation. I realised many things :that I might have to starve ;that most things that make youth enjoyable I must forgo. H owever, I made some good friends in Devon, so I did not mind having but one meal a day). It was borne upon me that one volume coidd not possibly contain all I had to say, unless that volume were as big as the post-war Who s Who, and rivalry with such an immense work of fiction woidd be both fatuous and foolish. But we have discussed this on many occasions, and as you must be weary of it, I will not exhaust you with further reminiscence. Willie Maddison, I imagine, is nearly eighteen years of age when he stands at the eastern edge of the spinney and bids farewell to the fields and the trees which he has known for so long.(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)A