As each volume contains from sixty to a hundred pages . . . the amount
of the whole seems very great, if we remember that it was all written
in about fifteen months. So much for the quantity; the quality strikes
me as of singular merit for a girl of thirteen or fourteen. Both as a
specimen of her prose style at this time, and also as revealing
something of the quiet domestic life led by these children, I take an
extract from the introduction to "Tales of the Islanders," the title of
one of their "Little Magazines":


"JUNE the 31st, 1829.

"The play of the 'Islanders' was formed in December, 1827, in the
following manner: One night, about the time when cold sleet and stormy
fogs of November are succeeded by the snowstorms and high, piercing
night-winds of confirmed winter, we were all sitting round the warm
blazing kitchen fire, having just concluded a quarrel with Tabby
concerning the propriety of lighting a candle, from which she came off
victorious, no candle having been produced. A long pause succeeded,
which was at last broken by Branwell saying in a lazy manner, 'I don't
know what to do.' This was echoed by Emily and Anne.

"Tabby. 'Wha ya may go t'bed.'

"Branwell. 'I'd rather do anything than that.'

"Charlotte. 'Why are you so glum to-night, Tabby? Oh! suppose we had
each an island of our own.'