beyond the fields we know, in the lands of dream, lies the valley of the yann where the mighty river of that name, rising in the hills of hap, idleing its way by massive dream-evoking amethyst cliffs, orchid-laden forests, and ancient mysterious cities, comes to the gates of yann and passes to the sea.

some years since a poet visiting that land voyaged down the yann on a trading bark named the bird of the river and returning safe to ireland, set down in a tale that is called idle days on the yann, the wonders of that voyage. now the tale being one of marvellous beauty, found its way into a volume we call a dreamer's tales where it may be found to this day with other wondrous tales of that same poet.

as the days went by the lure of the river and pleasant memories of his shipmates bore in with a constant urge on the soul of the poet that he might once more journey beyond the fields we know and come to the floor of yann; and one day it fell out that turning into go-by street that leads up from the embankment toward the strand and which you and i always do go by and perhaps never see in passing, he found the door which one enters on the way to the land of dream.

twice of late has lord dunsany entered that door in go-by street and returned to the valley of the yann and each time come back with a tale; one, of his search for the bird of the river, the other of the mighty hunter who avenged the destruction of perdóndaris, where on his earlier voyage the captain tied up his ship and traded within the city. that all may be clear to those who read these new tales and to whom no report has previously come beyond the fields we know the publishers reprint in this volume idle days on the yann.