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126 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1925

every farm had its comforter. One that came to rich and poor alike, that never failed and never tired.This hopefully gives some flavour of Selma's style here and the quality of her subtexts, the glories in the margin. I thought of the Lutrell Psalter, many pages of which I have had to good fortune to see, and of the surpassingly lovely short film made here in Lincolnshire to, I suppose, 'bring it to life' although nobody and nothing will convince me that any art anywhere is more alive than the Luttrell Psalter.
Yet don't imagine that this comforter was anything solemn or splendid, like the word of God or peace of mind or the joy of love! And don't think it was anything base or low, like drinking and gambling. It was simply something quite innocent and ordinary, it was nothing but the fire, burning on the hearth on the winter's night[...]
But the fire could do more than warm and light up and cook meals; it could do something more remarkable than hiss, crackle, spit and smoke. It could revive the love of play in each human soul.
For what is the human soul but a playful flame? It flickers in and above and around us, just as the flames in the fire blaze in and above and around the rough wood.So when those who had gathered around the fire on a winter's night had sat or a while looking into it, the fire began to speak to each and every one of them in its own tongue.
'Kindred soul of mine,' said the flame, 'are you not a flame like me? Why so gloomy and sad?' -
'Kindred flame,' answered the human soul, 'I have been chopping wood and keeping house all day. All I can do is sit staring into you.' - 'I know all that,' said the fire. 'But it's evening now. Do as I do – flicker and flare! Be playful! Give warmth!'
And the souls would obey the fire and begin to be playful. They told stories, they guessed riddles, they turned fiddle strings, and they etched roses and vines into their tool handles and tack. They shared games and melodies, played forfeits and quoted old proverbs. And all the time the icy cold was thawing from their limbs, the peevishness from their spirits. They livened up and began to enjoy themselves. The fire and the games by the fireside gave them the will to go on, however difficult and poverty-stricken their lives were.
One of the main ingredients of these evenings by the fire must have been the stories about great feats and adventures. Everyone, old and young alike, loved to hear stories, and the supply was endless. For, thank heavens, there have always been feats and adventures galore.