a play called "Under the Wheel." The actual work of the
composition was carried on m the south attic room of Doctor
Cross's house at 21 Seaverns Avenue, Jamaica Plain.

The mood of bitterness in which these books were written was
renewed and augmented by a second visit to my parents in 1889,
for during my stay my mother suffered a stroke of paralysis due to
overwork and the dreadful heat of the summer. She grew better
before the time came for me to return to my teaching in Boston,
but I felt like a sneak as I took my way to the train, leaving my
mother and sister on that bleak and sun-baked plain.

"Old Paps Flaxen," "Jason Edwards," "A Spoil of Office," and
most of the stories gathered into the second volume of
Main-Travelled Roads were written in the shadow of these defeats.
If they seem unduly austere, let the reader remember the times in
which they were composed. That they were true of the farms of
that day no one can know better than I, for I was there-a farmer.

Life on the farms of Iowa and Wisconsin-even on the farms of
Dakota-has gained in beauty and security, I will admit, but there
are still wide stretches of territory in Kansas and Nebraska where
the farmhouse is a lonely shelter. Groves and lawns, better roads,
the rural free delivery, the telephone, and the motorcar have done
much to bring the farmer into a frame of mind where he is
contented with his lot, but much remains to be done before the
stream of young life from the country to the city can be checked.

The two volumes of Main-Travelled Roads can now be taken to be
what William Dean Howells called them, "historical fiction," for