earth's broken hearts are renewed to youth.

It was written of him: "There is no man left in Virginia fit to lift
the lid of his inkstand."




"WOMAN AND POET"

MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON


"Whoever has the good fortune to follow its trails and shimmering
waters is already half a poet," wrote Professor Harris of the road
that leads down from the verdant hills of the Alleghanies over
picturesque gorge and crag and fissure into the quiet of the valley
and brings us by exquisite stages to the beautiful town of Lexington,
Virginia. Making that journey in taking my boy, fourteen years old, to
the Virginia Military Institute, I entered at once two charming
regions--Lexington with its romantic environment, and the heart of
Margaret Junkin Preston.

When I spoke of the beautiful scenery Mrs. Preston asked me if I had
read Professor Maury's description of it. I replied that I had not. "I
am glad," she said, "because now that you have seen our
Nature-pictures you will enjoy the description so much more."

Though the name and work of Margaret Preston had long been shrined in
the hearts of a host of known friends and endeared to many unknown