A little boy crawled under a hedge and saw a little girl, and they became playmates. Then the families moved away, and their paths do not cross again, although their thoughts drift back to each other and those childhood days. Then, as by a common impulse, each is drawn back to the old spot where they first met, and after that they are lonesome no longer.
So, even as the man, the boy had dreamed. But the man did not think of it in that way--the dreams of his manhood were too real.
Then in his Yesterdays would come, also, the putting of his dreams into action, for the play of children, even as the works of men, are only dreams in action after all. The quiet orchard became a vast and pathless forest wherein lurked wild beasts and savage men ready to pounce upon the daring hunter; or, perhaps, it was an enchanted wood with lords and ladies imprisoned in the trees while in the carriage house--which was not a carriage house at all but a great castle--a cruel giant held captive their beautiful princess. The haymow was a robbers' cave wherein great wealth of booty was stored; the garden, a desert island on which lived the poor castaway. And many a long summer hour the bold captain clung to the rigging of his favorite apple tree ship and gazed out over the waving meadow sea, or the general of the army, on his rail fence war horse,
this novel is breath-taking and captivating
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