Writer neither dares, nor desires, to claim for it the dignity or cumber
it with the difficulty of an historic novel.

And yet he thinks that the outlines are filled in more carefully, and
the situations (however simple) more warmly coloured and quickened, than
a reader would expect to find in what is called a "legend."

And he knows that any son of Exmoor, chancing on this volume, cannot
fail to bring to mind the nurse-tales of his childhood--the savage deeds
of the outlaw Doones in the depth of Bagworthy Forest, the beauty of
the hapless maid brought up in the midst of them, the plain John Ridd's
Herculean power, and (memory's too congenial food) the exploits of Tom
Faggus.

March, 1869.




PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION

Few things have surprised me more, and nothing has more pleased me, than
the great success of this simple tale.

For truly it is a grand success to win the attention and kind regard,
not of the general public only, but also of those who are at home with
the scenery, people, life, and language, wherein a native cannot always
satisfy the natives.

Therefore any son of Devon may imagine, and will not grudge, the