Books with author Mary Louisa S. Molesworth

This book is a facsimile reprint and may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

What did it reveal? For a few minutes we were too dazzled to tell -- really dazzled -- as well as amazed. A perfect flood of light seemed to pour out upon us, and instead of the dingy, musty tool-house we had been expecting, we found ourselves standing at what at first sight appeared like the entrance to some fairy palace of brightness and brilliance. We stood, dazed, rubbing our eyes and looking at each other. _Was_ it magic? Had we chanced upon some such wonder of old world times as our little heads were stuffed with? Tib -- and Gerald too, perhaps -- would have been ready to believe it.

IT ALL STARTED WITH A PARROTA talkative parrot, that is.Well, anyway, the old lady who owned the parrot said, my word, young lad! Would you like to come in and meet my parrot? Naturally, Peterkin, being ever so polite, said, Why thank you, ma'am. I shall.And that when he misadventures started!Why, of course Mother was in a dither! Finally, though, we found Peterkin and the truth emerged. Dear sweet and contrite Peterkin was all fretful apologies to Mother, who didn't scold him at all.But then there came the incident that shall live forever in the family history.The train. Oh my, the train! A FORGOTTEN CLASSIC OF VICTORIAN GIRL'S LITERATURE

Now he is heading for India -- and the children are to spend several years with their grandmother and aunt, who live in the south of France.There are tears shed at parting with Papa, and a good many more bestowed on the rough coat of Shag, the pony, and the still rougher of Fusser, the Scotch terrier; but the delights of the change and the bustle of the journey soon drown all melancholy thoughts. And meeting their grandmother -- that proves to be the greatest delight them all.Mary Louisa Molesworth (1836-1921), author of The Tapestry Room, tells of long days of adventure and education for the three children learning life in a new country, in Grandmother Dear.

This morning, though, Nurse has fallen ill -- and somehow the children manage to break one of their treasured bowls. Then when strangers appear on the lane, while the adults are away, Duke and Pamela's troubles grow greater than their young minds can embrace!Mary Louisa Molesworth (1836-1921) was the author of such beloved children's novels as The Cuckoo Clock and The Tapestry Room.

In the judgement of Roger Lancelyn Green: Mary Louisa Molesworth typified late Victorian writing for girls. Aimed at girls too old for fairies and princesses but too young for Austen and the Brontës, books by Molesworth had their share of amusement, but they also had a good deal of moral instruction. The girls reading Molesworth would grow up to be mothers; thus, the books emphasized Victorian notions of duty and self-sacrifice.This volume is titled for its first story -- "The Thirteen Little Black Pigs" -- but it contains eight delightful tales from Mrs. Molesworth, not thirteen little black pigs. There's "Right Hand and Left," a tale of sybling rivalry, and things even more unsettling; "A Shilling of Halfpence," the story of an old woman to whom shillings and halfpence are serious money. Children's' fiction from an amazingly talented Victorian writer.

A ghost? "One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead."I myself have never seen a ghost (I am by no means sure that I wish ever to do so), but I have a friend whose experience in this respect has been less limited than mine. Till lately, however, I had never heard the details of Lady Farquhar's adventure, though the fact of there being a ghost story which she could, if she chose, relate with the authority of an eye-witness, had been more than once alluded to before me. Living at extreme ends of the country, it is but seldom my friend and I are able to meet; but a few months ago I had the good fortune to spend some days in her house, and one evening our conversation happening to fall on the subject of the possibility of so-called "supernatural" visitations or communications, suddenly what I had heard returned to my memory.Lady Farquhar hesitated for a moment, and her usually bright expression grew somewhat graver. When she spoke, it seemed to be with a slight effort.