PREFACE 



THE BARNYARD GATE. 



HIS is but a small sheaf among many 

 others; for, as the floor of the woods 

 is covered with fallen leaves and pieces 

 of detached bark, so the little wood- 

 land of my thoughts is strewn over with 

 these rough fragments and memories. 

 Yet the old homestead still stands as 

 I have written it. There is no latch- 

 string. It is always open to receive us. 

 I wish I could say that I have in this 

 book made some distinct contribution 

 of my own to the appreciation and enjoyment of the 

 beauty of life. But it has at least expressed my trying, 

 and the intent perforce must be taken for the deed. 



We can not all realize in our individual experiences 

 the life-thoughts of many diverse minds. We can 

 have but one attitude toward the world. I should feel, 

 then, at least repaid, if these pages, written at odd 

 moments among the fields and in the woods and be- 

 fore the open fireplace, and again beside the waters of 

 remembrance, could join some other pilgrim with my- 

 self, at this wayside shrine, in the worship of what we 

 shall call Nature, the beautiful, and the things of the 



spirit. 



PAUL GRISWOLD HUSTON. 

 BEVIS, OHIO, 



August, 1906. 



