, who were not due at that time. The
horse was a bad one, without a saddle, and in possession of a pronounced
backbone. My "Friday" was not sociable. I had no books, no newspapers,
no magazines or literature of any kind, no game to shoot, no boat
wherewith to prosecute fishing in the bay, and no prospect of seeing any
one to speak to for weeks, if not months, to come. But I had pen and
ink, and, by great good fortune, was in possession of a blank paper book
fully an inch thick.

When, two or three years after, a printer-cousin, seeing the manuscript,
offered to print it, and the well-known Blackwood, of Edinburgh, seeing
the book, offered to publish it--and did publish it--my ambition was
still so absolutely asleep that I did not again put pen to paper in
_that_ way for eight years thereafter, although I might have been
encouraged thereto by the fact that this first book--named _Hudson's
Bay_--besides being a commercial success, received favourable notice
from the press.

It was not until the year 1854 that my literary path was opened up. At
that time I was a partner in the late publishing firm of Thomas
Constable and Company of Edinburgh. Happening one day to meet with the
late William Nelson, publisher, I was asked by him how I should like the
idea of taking to literature as a profession. My answer I forget. It
must have been vague, for I had never thought of the subject at all.

"Well," said he, "what would you think of trying to write a story?"

Somewhat amused, I replied that I did not know what to think, but I
would try if he wished me to do so.

"Do so," said he, "and go to work at once,"--or words to that effect.

I went to work at once, and wrote my first story, or work of fiction.
It was published in 1855 under the name of _Snowflakes and Sunbeams; or,
The Young Fur-traders_. Afterwards the first part of the title was
dropped, and the book is now known as _The Young Fur-traders_. From
that day to this I have lived by making story-books for young folk.

From what I have said it will be seen that I have never aimed at the
achieving of this position, and I hope that it is not presumptuous in me
to think--and to derive much comfort from the thought--that God led me
into the particular path along which I have walked for so many years.

The scene of my first story was naturally laid in those backwoods with
which I was familiar, and the story itself was founded on the adventures
and experiences of m