A iittle fish lived with his mother in one of the bays in Wellington harbour. One day his mother said. "I am going out today, my son. I want you to stay at home and look after the house for me. You can make everything tidy and have the meal ready when I come home; but take care and do not go outside because there are men about who put cruel hooks down into the water to catch little fish. It would
I HAPPENED to be born in London, and date my interest in its past from many years ago when I was very young and stood one night in Fleet Street to watch the workmen pulling down old Temple Bar by the flare of naphtha lamps
IT is hoped that the reader of the ensuing narrative will not suppose that it is a fiction, or that the scenes and persons that I have delineated, had not a real existenc