PREFACE 



TH E Arcadian notes here following are a sifting 

 from several thousands which ran a course in The 

 Morning Post, where they were printed anonymously in 

 a crowded column of Varia, edited at the time by one 

 of the sternest, most just and most scholarly literary 

 critics of our day, the Post's Literary Editor, Mr. E. B. 

 Osborn to whom the writer begs to offer his humble 

 guerdon of a Dedication. 



Anonymously printed, in accordance with Post tra- 

 ditions trying to distil a breath of country air among 

 the other paragraphs about all the talk of the Town 

 these Arcadian echoes here and there struck responsive 

 chords; and the writer treasures a casketful of letters 

 saying that they had given pleasure to some unfortunates 

 " in cities pent," and asking, Would the notes someday 

 be collected? With diffidence, in answer, a tithe of the 

 printed notes is here offered as a book. 



A sonorous passage of Milton has come into the 

 writer's mind, proclaiming that in those vernal seasons 

 when the air is calm and pleasant, it were " an injury 

 and sullenness against Nature " not to go out, see her 

 riches, and partake in her rejoicing; and the thought 

 follows that some who may read this book, knowing 

 how often they offend Nature by staying indoors, may 

 look upon their reading as a penance and atonement. 



MARCUS WOODWARD 

 vii 



