The Country of the Blind, And 
Other Stories,
by H. G. Wells 
 
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Stories, 
by H. G. Wells 
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Title: The Country of the Blind, And Other Stories 
Author: H. G. Wells 
Release Date: April 2, 2004 [eBook #11870] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
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COUNTRY OF THE BLIND, AND OTHER STORIES*** 
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THE COUNTRY OF THE BLIND 
And Other Stories 
H. G. WELLS 
 
[Illustration: He stopped, and then made a dash to escape from their 
closing ranks.] 
 
INTRODUCTION 
The enterprise of Messrs. T. Nelson & Sons and the friendly 
accommodation of Messrs. Macmillan render possible this collection in 
one cover of all the short stories by me that I care for any one to read 
again. Except for the two series of linked incidents that make up the 
bulk of the book called Tales of Space and Time, no short story of mine 
of the slightest merit is excluded from this volume. Many of very 
questionable merit find a place; it is an inclusive and not an exclusive 
gathering. And the task of selection and revision brings home to me 
with something of the effect of discovery that I was once an industrious 
writer of short stories, and that I am no longer anything of the kind. I 
have not written one now for quite a long time, and in the past five or 
six years I have made scarcely one a year. The bulk of the fifty or sixty 
tales from which this present three-and-thirty have been chosen dates 
from the last century. This edition is more definitive than I supposed 
when first I arranged for it. In the presence of so conclusive an ebb and 
cessation an almost obituary manner seems justifiable. 
I find it a little difficult to disentangle the causes that have restricted the 
flow of these inventions. It has happened, I remark, to others as well as 
to myself, and in spite of the kindliest encouragement to continue from 
editors and readers. There was a time when life bubbled with short 
stories; they were always coming to the surface of my mind, and it is 
no deliberate change of will that has thus restricted my production. It is 
rather, I think, a diversion of attention to more sustained and more
exacting forms. It was my friend Mr. C.L. Hind who set that spring 
going. He urged me to write short stories for the Pall Mall Budget, and 
persuaded me by his simple and buoyant conviction that I could do 
what he desired. There existed at the time only the little sketch, "The 
Jilting of Jane," included in this volume--at least, that is the only 
tolerable fragment of fiction I find surviving from my pre-Lewis-Hind 
period. But I set myself, so encouraged, to the experiment of inventing 
moving and interesting things that could be given vividly in the little 
space of eight or ten such pages as this, and for a time I found it a very 
entertaining pursuit indeed. Mr. Hind's indicating finger had shown me 
an amusing possibility of the mind. I found that, taking almost anything 
as a starting-point and letting my thoughts play about it, there would 
presently come out of the darkness, in a manner quite inexplicable, 
some absurd or vivid little incident more or less relevant to that initial 
nucleus. Little men in canoes upon sunlit oceans would come floating 
out of nothingness, incubating the eggs of prehistoric monsters 
unawares; violent conflicts would break out amidst the flower-beds of 
suburban gardens; I would discover I was peering into remote and 
mysterious worlds ruled by an order logical indeed but other than our 
common sanity. 
The 'nineties was a good and stimulating period for a short-story writer. 
Mr. Kipling had made his astonishing advent with a series of little 
blue-grey books, whose covers opened like window-shutters to reveal 
the dusty sun-glare and blazing colours of the East; Mr. Barrie had 
demonstrated what could be done in a little space through the panes of 
his Window in Thrums. The National Observer was at the climax of its 
career of heroic insistence upon lyrical brevity and a vivid finish, and 
Mr. Frank Harris was not only printing good short stories by other 
people, but writing still better ones himself in the dignified pages of the 
Fortnightly Review. Longman's Magazine, too, represented a clientèle 
of appreciative short-story readers that is now    
    
		
	
	
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