قراءة كتاب The Roadmender

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The Roadmender

The Roadmender

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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THE ROADMENDER

BY MICHAEL FAIRLESS


ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY
PHOTOGRAPHS BY WILL F. TAYLOR




NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON & CO.
1922



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.


[viii]
[ix]

CONTENTS

  PAGE
The Roadmender 1
Out of the Shadow 47
At the White Gate    91

ILLUSTRATIONS

Rolling stretches of cloud-shadowed down
Frontispiece
  TO FACE PAGE
The white winding road
2
The solitary cottage
6
The little church at the foot of the grey-green down
8
My niche under the stunted hawthorn
10
Æolus shepherding his white sheep
12
A little lonely cottage whose windows peered and blinked under overhanging brows of thatch
26
The reeded waters of the sequestered pool
32
The monastery where the Bedesmen of St Hugh watch and pray
34
The sun stretched the long shadows in slanting bars across the white highway
38

The great wheel was at rest
40
The crisp rime of winter's breath
48
The aloneness of a great forest
50
The field-gate that leads to the lower meadows
72
A host of joyous yellow trumpeters
74
In the distance rise the great lone heavenward hills
84
The line of the untroubled hills strong and still in the broad sunshine

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