e to a land
unutterable where the furthest Crusoe has scarcely ventured. Or in a
more familiar hour you may sit alongside a window high above the town.
Here you will see the milkman on his rounds with his pails and long
tin dipper. And these misty kingdoms that open so broadly on the world
are near at hand. They are yours if you dare to go adventuring for
them.

Soon your ambition will leap its nursery barriers. No longer will you
be content to sit inside this quiet room and pile your blocks upon the
floor. You will be off on discovery of the long trail that lies along
the back hall and the pantry where the ways are dark. You will wander
in search of the caverns that lie beneath the stairs when the night
has come. You will trudge up steps and down for any lurking ocean on
which to sail your pirate ships. Already I see you gazing with wistful
eyes into the spaces beyond the door--into the days of your great
adventure. In your thought is the patter and scurry of new creation.
It is almost fairy time for you. The tread of the friendly giants,
still far off, is sounding in the dark....

Dear little lad, in this darkness may there be no fear! For these
shadows of the twilight--which too long have been chased like common
miscreants with lamp and candle--are really friendly beings and they
wait to romp with you. Because thieves have walked in darkness, shall
darkness be called a thief? Rather, let the dark hours take their
repute from the countless gracious spirits that are abroad--the
quieter fancies that flourish when the light has gone--the gentle
creatures that leave their hiding when the sun has set. When a rug
lies roughened at close of day, it is said truly that a fairy peeps
from under to learn if at last the house is safe. And they hide in the
hallway for the signal of your coming, yet so timid that if the fire
is stirred they scamper beyond the turn. They huddle close beneath the
stairs that they may listen to your voice. They come and go on tiptoe
when the curtain sways, in the hope that you will follow. With their
long thin shadowy fingers they beckon for you beneath the sofa.

The time is coming when you can no longer resist their invitation,
when you will leave your woolly lamb and your roaring lion on this
dull safe hearth and will go on pilgrimage. The back stairs sit
patient in the dark for your hand upon the door. The great dim garret
that has sat nodding for so many years will smile at last at your
comin