The kingdom of the winding road,
Cornelia Meigs
Hardcover
(The Macmillan Company, March 15, 1915)
This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1916. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... THE WHITE PIGEON Perched high upon a cliff, around whose base the great ocean breakers roared and thundered day in and day out, there stood, once upon a time, a little cottage, windswept and weather-beaten outside, but as warm and cosey within as heart could desire. This was the abode of Heinrich the shoemaker, as was made plain by the wooden sign that hung above the door, creaking and swinging in the wind which was never still. Hither, up the winding path from the village, came all the fisherfolk to get the skilful cobbler to mend their worn-out shoes. Once Heinrich had been a fisherman himself and later a sailor, and had journeyed to many strange lands on the other side of the world, but he had been crippled by an accident on his last voyage, and had come home to spend the rest of his days, sitting at his cobbler's bench, whistling and singing and striving to make the rest of the world as merry as himself. "Yes," he would say, "it was hard indeed for me to give up following the sea. But why should I shed tears about it? These boots that I make and mend do my travelling for me, since they go out from my little cottage and wander, perhaps, all over the earth. In thinking of where they are going and what may befall their owners, I begin to feel almost as though I were setting forth myself, so that I have come to believe that the best task for a fellow like me who cannot walk is to sit here and make shoes for those who can." He could limp about a little, enough to keep his cottage as neat and shining as though a dozen housewives had just been at work; to tend his little garden and--greatest pleasure of all--to shelter, watch and care for his dove-cote full of pigeons. People of the village used often to tell each other how strange a thing it was that Heinrich shou...