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A Weaver of Dreams
Excerpt from A Weaver of Dreams
The road was hot and dusty, but, nevertheless, it allured. Beginning in the hopeless ugliness of a small town's main street, it turned a corner at the postoffice and wandered forth, lazily, at its own capricious will. It widened for a moment at a group of overhanging willows, as though to rest in the fragrant shade, paused where the little stream crooned in the grass, went beside it for a time, then crossed it upon a wooden bridge, and climbed upward toward the cool green hills.
In its nature the road was opposed to things that hurried. To the care-free foot of the traveller who had plenty of time, it yielded a gentle acceptance and even gave some sort of sympathetic response. A swift step was annoying. A dog that ran would find himself very thirsty by the time he reached the brook, a horse and cart would stir up definite resentment, and the daring motor car that intruded upon the road with discordant wheezes would be swiftly mantled and choked by revengeful dust.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
The road was hot and dusty, but, nevertheless, it allured. Beginning in the hopeless ugliness of a small town's main street, it turned a corner at the postoffice and wandered forth, lazily, at its own capricious will. It widened for a moment at a group of overhanging willows, as though to rest in the fragrant shade, paused where the little stream crooned in the grass, went beside it for a time, then crossed it upon a wooden bridge, and climbed upward toward the cool green hills.
In its nature the road was opposed to things that hurried. To the care-free foot of the traveller who had plenty of time, it yielded a gentle acceptance and even gave some sort of sympathetic response. A swift step was annoying. A dog that ran would find himself very thirsty by the time he reached the brook, a horse and cart would stir up definite resentment, and the daring motor car that intruded upon the road with discordant wheezes would be swiftly mantled and choked by revengeful dust.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1911
3 people are currently reading
64 people want to read
About the author
Myrtle Reed
93 books31 followersMyrtle Reed/Mrs McCullough (1874-1911) was an American author, the daughter of Elizabeth Armstrong Reed and the preacher Hiram von Reed. She sometimes wrote under the pseudonym of Olive Green. She was born in Chicago, where she graduated from the West Division High School. In 1906 she was married to James Sydney McCullough.
She wrote under her own name, but also published a series of cook books under the pseudonym of Olive Green, including What to Have for Breakfast (1905), One Thousand Simple Soups (1907) and How to Cook Fish (1908).
Myrtle was a diagnosed insomniac with prescribed sleeping drafts. She died August 17, 1911 of an overdose of sleeping powder taken with suicidal intent in her flat, called "Paradise Flat" at 5120 Kenmore Ave., Chicago, Illinois. The following day, her suicide letter, written to her maid, Annie Larsen, was published.
She wrote under her own name, but also published a series of cook books under the pseudonym of Olive Green, including What to Have for Breakfast (1905), One Thousand Simple Soups (1907) and How to Cook Fish (1908).
Myrtle was a diagnosed insomniac with prescribed sleeping drafts. She died August 17, 1911 of an overdose of sleeping powder taken with suicidal intent in her flat, called "Paradise Flat" at 5120 Kenmore Ave., Chicago, Illinois. The following day, her suicide letter, written to her maid, Annie Larsen, was published.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
June 17, 2009
Picked this up at Half-Price Books the other day. Seems to be a first edition of a totally obscure 1911 romance novel, written and published the year Reed died of an overdose. No idea what it's about, but it starts out with "The road was hot and dusty, but, nevertheless, it allured. Beginning in the hopeless ugliness of a small town's main street, it turned a corner at the postoffice and wandered forth, lazily, at its own capricious will." I can't wait to read it.
June 4, 2020
I bought this book for its art nouveau cover, to put with my small collection of very old books. Then, during lockdown, I picked it up to read. It is terribly overwritten, very much of its time (published in 1911), heavy with metaphor, but caught me up anyway. Plenty of feminist overtones in its discussion of relationships between men and women and the sharing of work. Researching the author's life is worth while.
February 3, 2022
Of the three books I own by Myrtle Reed, this is my least favorite. Too much time is spent philosophizing and rhapsodizing.
November 29, 2024
🖍️ Lovely story with just as charming writing and believable plot. I enjoyed this. This story was made into a film in 1918, and it is considered a lost film. It starred Viola Dana and Clifford Bruce.
📕Published in 1906.
જ⁀🟢The e-book version can be found on the Project Gutenberg website.
🟣 Kindle.
✴︎⋆✴︎⋆✴︎⋆✴︎
🖋️ About Myrtle Reed: Born in Norwood Park, Illinois September 27, 1874. She passed away at her apartment 5120 N. Kenmore, Chicago (suicide) August 17, 1911 and was buried at Graceland Cemetery. 🪦Some more information about Myrtle Reed can be found on this link at Find a Grave.
📕Published in 1906.
જ⁀🟢The e-book version can be found on the Project Gutenberg website.
🟣 Kindle.
✴︎⋆✴︎⋆✴︎⋆✴︎
🖋️ About Myrtle Reed: Born in Norwood Park, Illinois September 27, 1874. She passed away at her apartment 5120 N. Kenmore, Chicago (suicide) August 17, 1911 and was buried at Graceland Cemetery. 🪦Some more information about Myrtle Reed can be found on this link at Find a Grave.
June 5, 2022
The author’s personal views on love and marriage are very obvious in her writing, the result is a gloomy story with unpleasant surprise and unsatisfying ending. This is the last book I will read by this author.
November 12, 2017
A delightful read. I found the predictability charming. The finish hopeful.
I am sure to revisit this book again.
I am sure to revisit this book again.
July 28, 2018
Very "sweet," very romantic, very nostalgic, very unbelievable; but then, it was a very different age.
October 25, 2023
Second reading
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews