Joyce of the North Woods

YOU'VE GOT THE WINNING CARDS, MY GIRL ... IT'S ALL IN THE PLAYING NOW
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN
COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
TO EVELINA HEMINWAY SMITH Sister—Friend
Accept the dedication of this book of mine as a very slight recognition of your encouragement in my work; your faith in me.
To you I first read the story; from you I received my first approval; I believe its chances will be brighter in the book-world if your name and good-will go with it.
Harriet T. Comstock
Flatbush—Brooklyn, N. Y. February, 1910

Love is the golden bead in the bottom of the crucible. And the crucible was St. Angé.
Fifty years before this story began, St. Angé was a lumber camp; the first gash in that part of the great Solitude to the north, which lay across Beacon Hill, three miles from Hillcrest.