I should like far better to listen to my girlreaders' thoughts
about life and themselves than to be writing out my own
experiences. It is to my disadvantage that the confidences, in
this case, must all be on one side. But I have known so
many girls so well in my relation to them of schoolmate,
workmate, and teacher, I feel sure of a fair share of their
sympathy and attention.
It is hardly possible for an author to write anything sincerely
without making it something of an autobiography. Friends can
always read a personal history, or guess at it, between the
lines. So I sometimes think I have already written mine, in my
verses. In them, I have found the most natural and free
expression of myself. They have seemed to set my life to music
for me, a life that has always had to be occupied with many
things besides writing. Not, however, that I claim to have
written much poetry: only perhaps some true rhymes: I do not see
how there could be any pleasure in writing insincere ones.
Whatever special interest this little narrative of mine may have
is due to the social influences under which I was reared, and
particularly to the prominent place held by both work and
religion in New England half a century ago.
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