PREFACE.
Strictly speaking there should be no preface to this, because it deals with things that are not pretty and uglinesses that hurt. But it may be as well to try to assure the ill-informed that India is not entirely inhabited by men and women playing tennis with the Seventh Commandment: while it is a fact that very many of the lads in the land can be trusted to bear themselves as bravely, on occasion, as did my friend, the late Robert Hanna Wick. The drawback of collecting dirt in one corner is that it gives a false notion of the filth of the room. Folk who understand and have knowledge of their own, will be able to strike fair averages. The opinions of people who do not understand are somewhat less valuable.
In regard to the idea of the book, I have no hope that the stories will be of the least service to any one. They are meant to be read in railway trains and are arranged and adorned for that end. They ought to explain that there is no particular profit in going wrong at any time, under any circumstances or for any consideration. But that is a large text to handle at popular prices; and if I have made the first rewards of folly seem too inviting, my inability and not my intention is to blame.
