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قراءة كتاب The Roadmender
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THE ROADMENDER
ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY
PHOTOGRAPHS BY WILL F. TAYLOR
NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON & CO.
1922
Printed in Great Britain
by Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh
A. M. D. G.
TO
MY MOTHER
AND TO EARTH, MY MOTHER
WHOM I LOVE
FOREWORD TO THIS EDITION
The country amid which Margaret Fairless Barber ("Michael Fairless") wrote "The Roadmender" is that central part of Sussex drained by the river Adur, perhaps the least known of the three main rivers, Ouse, Adur and Arun, which breach the South Downs. From Chanctonbury Ring to Ditchling Beacon the Downs belong to the Adur, and this is the country of the Roadmender. Here, from under the "stunted hawthorn," the eye looks down on the one side to the "little church" on the Weald, and on the other to the more distant "to and fro of the sea." Over all this Wealden valley the "long grey downs" keep watch, and on the inland side a constant companion of the roads is the spire of "the monastery where the Bedesmen of St Hugh watch and pray."
Michael Fairless wrote Parts I and II of "The Roadmender" in a farmhouse at Mock Bridge on the Adur near Henfield, and here in her last days she lay writing "The White Gate," looking out over the "pasture bright with buttercups where the cattle feed." Here she died, and she was carried to the grave "under the firs in the quiet churchyard" at Ashhurst, two miles away across the river.
CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS
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Rolling stretches of cloud-shadowed down
|
Frontispiece |
| TO FACE PAGE | |
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The white winding road
|
2 |
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The solitary cottage
|
6 |
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The little church at the foot of the grey-green down
|
8 |
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My niche under the stunted hawthorn
|
10 |
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Æolus shepherding his white sheep
|
12 |
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A little lonely cottage whose windows peered and blinked under overhanging brows of thatch
|
26 |
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The reeded waters of the sequestered pool
|
32 |
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The monastery where the Bedesmen of St Hugh watch and pray
|
34 |
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The sun stretched the long shadows in slanting bars across the white highway
|
38 |
The great wheel was at rest
|
40 |
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The crisp rime of winter's breath
|
48 |
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The aloneness of a great forest
|
50 |
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The field-gate that leads to the lower meadows
|
72 |
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A host of joyous yellow trumpeters
|
74 |
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In the distance rise the great lone heavenward hills
|
84 |
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The line of the untroubled hills strong and still in the broad sunshine
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