deepest impression upon me. It is the only one from which I
can now remember to have received a distinct and permanent ethical
impression."

"I am not really conscious of any special preference for one fairy
story over another," wrote Professor Lounsbury, "but as somebody, it
seems to me, ought to stand up for sentiment, I am going to vote for
'Cinderella.' I hesitated a moment about 'The Sleeping Beauty,' but I
leave that for one younger."

In a letter rich in personal quality, the Hon. Grover Cleveland wrote:
"My youthful days are so far away, and fairy stories had so little to
do with their enjoyment, that I do not feel that I ought to venture an
opinion on such an important subject as that to which you refer. For
want of a better thing to do, I have submitted the question to my
children, and so far as I am able to determine, the canvass of their
votes is in favor of 'Cinderella.' It is only fair to say that two of
the three to whom the question was submitted are little girls."

Another glimpse of domestic sympathy comes in the choice of the Hon.
William J. Bryan, editor and author, as well as publicist, who says:
"My wife assures me that I shall make no mistake if I commend the
tales of Hans Christian Andersen, notably that of 'The Ugly
Duckling.'"

It is a change from public life to the world of letters to find Dr.
Van Dyke and Dr. Mabie in agreement with Dr. Shailer Mathews regarding
the rank of "The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood." But it is not to this
that Dr. Van Dyke gives precedence. "If my memory serves me right," he
says, "the first fairy story which made a strong impression on my
mind in boyhood was that of 'Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp.' Next
after that in time, and, I think, a little beyond it in interest, came
the story of the 'Seven Wild Swans,' and next to that the story of
'The Sleeping Beauty.'"

As to "Hop o' My Thumb" we may be pardoned for quoting the close of a
singularly delightful letter from Mr. Henry James, who says: "It is
the vague memory of this sense of him, as some small, precious object,
like a lost gem or a rare and beautiful insect on which one might
inadvertently tread, or might find under the sofa or behind the
window-cushion, that leads me to think of 'Hop o' My Thumb' as my
earliest and sweetest and most repeated cupful at the fount of
fiction."

Quite literally a world removed from this was the answer of the modest
Japanese conqueror, General Kuroki, who laughed at firs