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A number of the songs in this collection have been heard by campfire and trail from the camps of British Columbia to the lumber camps of Maine. Several of the songs have been fired at the Huns "somewhere in France," no doubt with deadly effect. And also at the Turks on the long long hike to Bagdad and beyond.

And it is not impossible that some of my countrymen are now warbling snatches of my humble verse to the accompaniment of bagpipes on the streets of the New Jerusalem! Many of the verses have appeared from time to time in leading publications from Vancouver, B. C., to the New England States and Eastern Canada; while others appear in print here for the first time.

From all parts of the land I have received letters at various times asking for extra copies of some particular song in my humble collection, which I was not in a position to supply at the time.

I therefore decided to publish some of the songs for which a demand had been expressed, and in so doing offer to the reading public in extenuation of my offense the plea that in a manner this humble volume is being published by request.

I offer no apology for my "dialect" songs as they have already received the approval of music lovers whose judgment is beyond criticism.

For the errors which must inevitably creep into the work of a non-college-bred lumberjack, I crave the indulgence of all highbrows who may resent my inability to comb the classics for copy to please them. All the merit I can claim is the ability to rhyme a limerick or sing a "come-all-ye" in a manner perhaps not unpleasing to my friends.

The lumberjacks will understand me, I am sure, and will appreciate my humble efforts to entertain them.

As for the genial highbrow, should he deem me an interloper in the realm of letters and imagine that my wild, uncultured notes are destroying the harmony of his supersensitive soul, I shall "lope" back to the tall timber again and seek sympathy and appreciation among the lumberjacks of the forest primeval, where, amid the wild surroundings and the crooning of the trees, there is health for mind and body borne on every passing breeze. Yes, there's something strangely healing in the magic of the myrrh, in the odor of the cedar and the fragrance of the fir.

There the hardy lumberjack is the undisputed lord of the lowlands and chief of the highlands, and at the present time no soldier in the trenches or sailor on the rolling deep has a more arduous task to perform or a more important duty to discharge than he.

Toil on, ye Titans of the tall timbers; steadfast soldiers of the saw, and able allies of the axe. Carry on till the stately trees which constitute the glory of the West are converted into ships and planes in countless thousands, to win the great war for freedom and to make the world safe for democracy—and lumberjacks!

THE AUTHOR.