This little book is an old school edition of “A Traveler’s Tales” by Washington Irving. My father bought it used at the Dover Country Store in the 1950s, and it looked antique to us even then. My father neatly wrote the title and author on the spine in black ink. The book is in terrible shape, and I wouldn’t even try to read it, but it’s been part of our family library for more than fifty years and it’s not going anywhere.
As a child, I was fascinated by this book because I loved the title, wondered where the traveler had been and what sort of tales he was telling.