THERE is need to ask indulgence for this little book, because at first sight it seems to possess no other unity than that of type and cover. The root of its unity lies deeper, deeper even than any of subject or of method; it lies in the personal gift, the communication of heart to heart, which is the secret of charm in all the author’s work. For this reason its publication is justified. The papers, poems, and stories it contains have, with two exceptions, appeared elsewhere, most of them in ‘The Pilot,’ where the Roadmender found his first welcome and his literary home.…
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