The catalogue of the American Library Association, a conscientious publication if ever there was one, describes this book concisely: “Scene in the Green Mountains. An ambitious farmer crippled in early manhood finds interests in the outside world through a chance acquaintance and becomes a wood-carver of renown.” There you are; see what conscientiousness can accomplish! All the charm, all the wistfulness, all the magic of hope and aspiration, and the triumph of achievement, which make this novel the beloved tale it is--stripped away! “An ambitious farmer crippled in early manhood....” The librarians are not to blame, either. It is their business to outline concisely.... Whereas fiction is no matter of outlines but, like life, a thing of coloring, perspective, the glint of an eye, the shadowed corner of a smiling mouth. Fiction cannot be done in black and white; those who, under the label of “realism,” essay the task, invariably fail. But we were to enumerate what is known of Miss Waller. Well, in 1913, after she had been besieged for nine years for her picture, a visitor to Nantucket, whither the author had gone to live, did succeed in seeing her and talking with her. He did not get a photograph of her (in the fall of 1912 a photographer went expressly to Nantucket and lay long in wait for a snapshot, coming away without a single exposure). But at least the visitor did see and converse with Miss Waller. How came this miracle about? There had never been a hospital on Nantucket, in spite of the shipwrecks and succorings of two centuries. Certain residents decided it was time one was built. A board of trustees was formed and a house purchased. Money for maintenance was needed. So they built an enormous thermometer on the main street, under overarching elms. When the visitor came to trail Miss Waller he found the temperature about $6,800, which included royalties from one of Miss Waller’s books.