ainly at the beginning that it was _not_ a regular "story" I had to
tell you in the "carrots" coloured book this year, but just some parts,
simple and real, of a child-life that I love to think of. And I would
have liked to leave it here--for some reasons that is to say--or I would
have liked to tell how Ted grew up into such a man as his boyhood
promised--honest-hearted, loving, and unselfish, and as happy as a true
Christmas child could not but be. But, dears, I _cannot_ tell you this,
for it was not to be so. Yet I am so anxious that the little book I have
tried to write in such a way that his happy life and nature should be
loved by other children--I am so anxious that the ending of this little
book should not seem to you a _sad_ one, at Christmas-time too of all
times, that I find it a little difficult to say what has to be said. For
in the truest sense the close of my book is _not_ sad. I will just tell
it simply as it really was, trusting that you will know I love you all
too well to wish to throw any cloud over your bright faces and
thoughts.

Well, as I said, this year had brought many little events, some troubles
of course, and much good, to our Ted. He had grown a good deal taller,
and thinner too, and he never, even as a tiny toddler, could have been
called fat! But he was well and strong, and had made good progress at
school and good progress too in other ways. He was getting on famously
at cricket and football, and was a first-rate croquet-player, for
croquet was then in fashion. And the museum had not been neglected; it
had really grown into a very respectable and interesting museum, so that
not only Ted's own people and near friends were pleased to see it, but
even his parents' friends, and sometimes others, again, who happened to
be visiting them, would ask the little collector to admit them. I really
think it would be a good thing if more boys took to having museums; it
would be a good thing for them, for nothing can be more amusing and
interesting too, and a very good thing for their friends, especially in
bad weather or in holiday-time, when now and then the hours hang heavily
on these young people's hands, and one is inclined to wish that some
fancy work for _boys_ could be invented. Ted's museum had grown very
much, and was always a great resource for him and for Cissy too, for, to
tell the truth, her tastes were _rather_ boyish.

His library had grown too. I cannot tell you how many nice books he