wheel of his fancy into yarns; the colour and tint his imagination
gave to each skein; and where each was finally woven
into the fabric by the shuttle of his pen. No thread ever quite
detaches itself from its growth and spinning, dyeing and weaving,
and each draws him back to hours and places seemingly
unrelated to the work.
And so, as I have read the proofs of this book I have found
more than once that the pages have faded out of sight and in
their stead I have seen Mount Pisgah and the French Broad
River, or the ramp and terrace of Biltmore House, just as
I saw them when writing the words which served to recall
them to me. With the visions, too, has come a recurrence to
our long talks, our work among the books, our games of chess,
our cups of tea, our walks, our rides, and our drives. It is
therefore a pleasure to me that the book so naturally gravitates
to you, and that I may make it a remembrance of those
past weeks of companionship, and an earnest of the present
affection of
PAUL LEICESTER FORD


ILLUSTRATIONS

Volume I.
Janice Meredith (Miniature in color)
"'T is sunrise at Greenwood"
"Nay, give me the churn"
"The British ran"
"It flatters thee"
"You set me free"