Progress and the Wisdom of Pa

The Long Winter tells the amazing story of a prairie town's survival during a seven-month long winter of blizzards. Slowly, the isolated town on the treeless prairie begins to run out of food and fuel. It takes all the creativity that the pioneers possess just to keep alive.

Ma got up and put another stick of hay on the fire. When she lifted the stove lid, a reddish-yellow smoky light flared up and drove back the dark for a moment. Then the dark came back again. The wild screaming of the storm seemed louder and nearer in the dark.

"If only I had some grease I could fix some kind of a light," Ma considered. "We didn't lack for light when I was a girl, before this newfangled kerosene was ever hear of."

"That's so," said Pa. "These times are too progressive. Everything has changed too fast. Railroads and telegraph and kerosene and coal stoves--they're good things to have but the trouble is, folks get to depend on 'em."

I wonder what Pa would say about our society today?

Taken from:
Wilder, Laura Ingalls. The Long Winter (1940), p. 192.

Tea Time with Betsy-Tacy

This tea time passage is from the book Betsy-Tacy. It's a delightful scene where five-year-old Betsy and Tacy have dressed up in grownup clothes and have gone "calling" on a neighbour, Mrs. Benson. Being such a good neighbour (one that bought the coloured sand from the girls in an earlier chapter), Mrs. Benson plays along nicely by treating the girls as though they really were lady callers.

"I hear you bought some sand, Mrs. Benson," said Betsy in the grown-up tone.

"Yes, I did. Would you like to see it?" asked Mrs. Benson, and she went to her desk and brought out the two bottles full of sand which Betsy and Tacy had coloured, the perfume bottle with the blue coloured stopper and the big fat jar.

"Mercy, what beautiful sand!" said Betsy.

"Isn't it!" cried Mrs. Benson. "I bought it from two little girls named Betsy and Tacy."

Tacy looked up then, her blue eyes dancing into Mrs. Benson's. "I know those little girls," she said.

"I thought maybe you did," said Mrs. Benson.

After a minute Mrs. Benson asked, "Wouldn't you like some tea?"

"Tea?" asked Betsy, so surprised that she forgot to talk like her mother.

"Afternoon tea," explained Mrs. Benson. "What ladies drink when they go calling."

"Oh, of course," said Betsy. "I'd love some. Wouldn't you, Tacy?"

So Mrs. Benson gave them some tea... cambric tea, she called it, and it was delicious. They had cookies with their tea, and Betsy and Tacy nibbled them daintily. But they ate them to the very last crumb.

Taken from:
Lovelace, Maud Hart. Betsy-Tacy (1940), p. 78-79.

Why I am Terrified of Leeches

I blame it all on Laura Ingalls Wilder's book, On the Banks of Plum Creek.

But without further preamble, here is the passage where Laura first discovers those horrible creatures...

Mary would not go into the dark water under the plum trees. The creek bottom was muddy there and she did not like to wade in mud. So she sat on the bank while Laura waded into the thicket.

The water was still there, with old leaves floating on its edges. The mud squelched between Laura's toes and came up in clouds till she could not see the bottom. The air smelled old and musty. So Laura turned around and waded back into the clean water and the sunshine.

There seemed to be some blobs of mud on her legs and feet. She splashed the clear water over them to wash them off. But they did not wash off. Her hand could not scrape them off.

They were the color of mud, they were soft like mud. But they stuck as tight as Laura's skin.

Laura screamed. She stood there screaming, "Oh, Mary, Mary! Come! Quick!"

Mary came, but she would not touch those horrible things. She said they were worms. Worms made her sick. Laura felt sicker than Mary, but it was more awful to have those things on her than it was to touch them. She took hold of one, she dug her fingernails into it, and pulled.

The thing stretched out long, and longer, and longer, and still it hung on.

"Oh don't! Oh don't! Oh, you'll pull it in two!" Mary said. But Laura pulled it out longer, till it came off. Blood tricked down her leg from the place where it had been.

One by one, Laura pulled those things off. A little trickle of blood ran down where each one let go.

Laura did not feel like playing any more.

I don't blame Laura. After that experience, I wouldn't want to play either.

Of course, the chapter isn't over. Laura goes home to discover exactly what those things are...

Ma said they were leeches and that doctors put them on sick people. But Pa called them bloodsuckers. He said they lived in the mud, in dark, still places in the water.

"I don't like them," Laura said.

"Then stay out of the mud, flutterbudget," said Pa. "If you don't want trouble, don't go looking for it."

And that is the reason why I am terrified of leeches. Not that I've actually had a whole lot of experience with leeches. But, that's probably because I've taken Pa's good advice...

(Oh, and my fear was probably reinforced by the movie, Stand By Me.)

Taken from:
Wilder, Laura Ingalls. On the Banks of Plum Creek (1937), p. 136-139.

How did I rate this book? Excellent book! (Despite the leeches)

A Magic Deeper Still

I will let this piece speak for itself...

At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise—a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had broken a giant's plate.... The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end; and there was no Aslan.

"Who's done it?" cried Susan. "What does it mean? Is it more magic?"

"Yes!" said a great voice from behind their backs. "It is more magic." They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.

"Oh, Aslan!" cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad....

"But what does it all mean?" asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.

"It means," said Aslan, "that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward."

Taken from:
Lewis, C.S. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (1950), p. 163.

How did I rate this book? 5 stars

The Chatter of Lots of Characters

So, you've written twelve books in a popular series. You're entitled to have a little fun with your readers.

And that is exactly what happens in this final book in Arthur Ransome's Swallows and Amazons series.

This following excerpt is delightful. Especially after we've read every book in the series and we've come to know the characters as if they were good friends. The Swallows, Amazons, and D's are sailing (of course) with Captain Flint. As they stand on deck, looking through the spyglass, their distinct voices come through. (You almost don't need the narrator telling you who said what!)

There was a lot of chatter up there. People were taking turns with glasses and telescope. "Look here, it's my turn now. I spotted her first." That was Roger. "Only a motorboat, anyway." That was John. "She's going to pass us pretty close." That was Nancy. "You carry on, Nancy. We've the right of way. You've nothing to worry about. She'll pass under our stern." That was Captain Flint. "She's coming up a terrific lick." That was Roger. "Probably carrying dispatches." That was Titty. "Or taking a doctor to one of the lighthouses." That was Dorothea.

Taken from:
Ransome, Arthur. Great Northern? (1947), p. 16.

How did I rate this book? 4 stars

Showdown with a Cliffhanger

In his second book about the Mysterious Benedict Society, Trenton Lee Stewart gives us a wonderful cliffhanger about halfway through the book. It's a showdown between the secret agent, Milligan, and three of the evil Ten Men (named so due to the fact that they have ten ways of killing you.)

But this showdown isn't your straight-forward cowboy standoff. In many ways, it's a good old-fashioned spoof. The Ten Men aren't just thugs. They dress as elegant businessmen and use office supplies as their weapons of choice. And here they are up against our hero (the adult hero, anyways): Milligan.

"Another bold move!" came McCracken's voice as Milligan ducked behind a beam. There was an electrical hum the air from the Ten Men's watches. "But you'd still have done better to surrender. It is three against one, you know!"

"Not for long," Milligan growled, and he jumped out from behind the beam.

So began on the fiercest and strangest battles ever fought, a battle that involved all manner of business supplies, elegant clothing and accessories, and no shortage of trickery and taunts. It was a battle that would rage for hours, and which, when at last it came to an end, would leave the abandoned village entirely in ruins and only one man standing to survey the wreckage. It was also a battle that would leave the young members of the Mysterious Benedict Society in even greater danger than before -- for alas, the one man left standing wasn't Milligan.

Taken from:
Stewart, Trenton Lee. The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey (2008), p. 360.

How did I rate this book? 4 1/2 stars

A Taste for Candy and Licorice

Every word is important.

And Trenton Lee Stewart demonstrates this beautifully in his book about The Mysterious Benedict Society.

In this book, he tells the story of four orphans (or near-orphans) who have been recruited by Mr. Benedict to stop the infamous Mr. Curtain and his nefarious plot to take over the world. They are to attend Mr. Curtain's "Learning Institute for the Very Enlightened" as spies.

As the foursome -- Reynie, Kate, Sticky, and Constance -- are being prepped by Mr. Benedict on the dangers of their mission, we get a seemingly innocent (albeit delightful) exchange on, of all topics... candy.

The children nodded uneasily. All this talk of danger and emergencies, without explanation, was beginning to wear on them.

"I'm sorry to put you ill at ease," Mr. Benedict said. "And I haven't much to say to comfort you. I can finally offer some answers to your questions, however. Who wishes to begin? Yes, Constance?"

To the great exasperation of the others, Constance demanded to know why they couldn't have candy for breakfast.

Mr. Benedict smiled. "A fine question. The short answer is that there is no candy presently in the house. Beyond that, the explanation involves a consideration of candy's excellent flavor but low nutritional value -- that is to say, why it makes a wonderful treat but a poor meal -- though I suspect you aren't interested in explanations but simply wished to express your frustration. Is that correct?"

"Maybe," Constance said with a shrug. But she seemed satisfied.

Fast forward to later in the story... The Society members are making headway on their mission at the school. Kate has returned from a night of espionage. But the Executives (i.e. Mr. Curtain's henchmen) are on to her. Their one problem: They don't have any concrete proof against Kate.

But then, just when the Mysterious Benedict Society think Kate is off the hook, the Executives approach her once more. This time, they are on to something that could mean big trouble for Kate:

"Jackson forgot to mention something else," Martina said. "He just so happened to spit out a piece of licorice last night in the same place he found that marble. But when he looked for it later, it was gone."

Reynie felt Kate stiffen next to him. They were in trouble.

"Funny thing about licorice," said Jackson. "It's just the sort of thing to get stuck in the bottom of your shoe without your realizing it."

"I get it, I get it," said Kate, squirming in her seat. "So now you want to see the bottoms of my shoes."

"If you'd be so kind," Martina said with a wicked grin. She'd noticed Kate squirming and was delighted to think she'd frightened her.

"Well, sorry about the dripping, but Reynie just spilled juice all over them," Kate said.
"Oh, yes, we saw that," Jackson said. He let out an amused rattle of laughter that sounded like a sheep in pain.

While Jackson was bleating at her expense, Kate pressed something sticky, gritty, and cold into Raynie's hand beneath the table. She hadn't been squirming from nervousness -- she's been twisting her legs up to get at the licorice. As she lifted her sodden shoes now for the Executives to inspect, Reynie reached across under the table and pressed the hunk of licorice into Sticky's hand. The further away from Kate the better, he thought. Sticky had the same idea, immediately passing the licorice on to Constance.

Constance, unfortunately, did not understand what it was.

In horror the boys watched her raise the slimy, dirty, half-chewed glob of candy above the tabletop to examine it. Reynie's eyes swiveled to the Executives, who, having been disappointed in Kate's shoes, were now asking her to show her empty hands, then checking for stickiness under the edge of the table. He looked back to Constance and saw the realization hit her, her eyes widening with alarm. And then, an instant before Martina glanced up to see it, Constance popped the licorice into her mouth, chewed it up and swallowed it.

Taken from:
Stewart, Trenton Lee. The Mysterious Benedict Society (2007), pp. 94-95, 392-393.

How did I rate this book? 4 1/2 stars