No truly great book needs an explanation of its aim and purpose. A great book just grows, as has this Book of Wonders.

It began with the attempt of a father to answer the natural questions of the active mind of a growing boy. It developed into a nightly search for plain, understandable answers to such questions as “What makes it night?” “Where does the wind begin?” “Why is the sky blue?” “Why does it hurt when I cut my finger?” “Why doesn’t it hurt when I cut my hair?” “Why does wood float?” “Why does iron sink?” “Why doesn’t an iron ship sink?” on through the maze of thousands of puzzling questions which occur to the child’s mind. It has grown until the answers to the mere questions cover practically the entire range of every-day knowledge, and has been arranged in such a form that any child may now find the answer to his own inquiries.

As the mind of the child matures, the questions naturally drift toward the things which the genius of man has provided for his comfort and pleasure. We have become so accustomed to the use and benefits of these wonders produced by man that we generally leave out of our books the stories of our great industries, and yet the mind of the child wonders and inquires about them. We have so long worn clothes made of wool or cotton, that we have forgotten the wonder there is in making a bolt of cloth. Every industry has a fascinating story equal to that of the silkworm, which moves its head sixty-five times a minute while spinning his thousand yards of silk.

Can you tell What happens when we telephone? How a telegram gets there? What makes an automobile go? How man learned to tell time? How a moving-picture is made? How a camera takes a picture? How rope is made? How the light gets into the electric bulb? How glass is made? How the music gets into the piano? and hundreds of others that embrace the captivating tales of how man has made use of the wonders of nature and turned them to his advantage and comfort? The Book of Wonders does this with illuminating pictures which stimulate the mind and give a bird’s-eye view of each subject step by step.

Where shall such a book begin? Shall it begin with the Story of How Man Learned to Light a Fire—he could not cook his food, see at night, or keep warm without a fire; or should it begin with How Man Learned to Shoot—he could not protect himself against the beasts of the forest, and, therefore, could not move about, till the soil or obtain food to cook until he knew how to shoot or destroy.

What was the vital thing for man to know before he could really become civilized? Some means, of course, by which the things he learned—the knowledge he had acquired—could be handed down to those who came after him so that they might go on with the intelligence handed down to them. This required some means of recording his knowledge. Man had to learn to write. Without writing there could be no Book of Wonders, and the book, then, begins naturally with the Story of Mow Man Learned to Write.

The Editor.