To the Memory of
Brother and playmate of golden childhood in the monongahela hills; and to the redolent memory of springtime with its new life and bird song and the call of the distant "bob-white." of summer, with its sunshine and showers; and the "old.oaken bucket" and great willow tree: and the tracks of little bare feet in the dust of the winding valley road: of truants fishing and the weed-fringed "swimming hole" in the violet - spangled meadow; of the orchard and the cool shadows of the deep forest with its leaping, gamboling squirrels, skipping rabbits and drumming of the pheasant's wing: of the twilight gloaming and the cry of the whip-poor-will, and the clouds sailing through the silvery moonlight. of autumn, with its dreamy haze of indian summer and the floating, streaming cobwebs and the wind moaning through the gold and crimson wood-crested hills; of the scarlet, dropping leaves of the old "sugar camp;" and the cliff and the "big rock" with the lichen moss and the burrowing wood-chucks: of a little wood-wheeled wagon and an oaken-runnered sled; of nut gathering and wild grape hunting: and the night song of the "katy _ did" and "major's" deep baying in the darksome woods, chasing the wily 'coon. of winter, with its nightmare "term" of school in the distant "low gap;" of coasting, and of nut cracking and "telling stories" around the evening hearth of the radiant wood fire; of the low trundle - bed and the hallowed prayers of .devoted parents: is this volume affectionately dedicated by one who ever dreams of his native hills and of the halcyon days of youth.