Monday, September 14, 2020
Here the links:
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
Goody Two Shoes
I liked everything about school, right down to the sound of the pencils scritching on our slate tablets. Most of all, however, I loved hearing the teacher read stories and fairy tales to us aloud. Even the m - ore youthful fare read aloud in the classroom seemed to transport me right out of Hopkinton and into more exciting times and places. Not all the stories the teachers read had been so enjoyable, however. One in particular, a sickening story named Goody Two Shoes, had a heroine so sweet and, yes, so extraordinarily good that she could give real girls the toothache faster than the hard peppermint candy in Mr. Towne’s glass jars.
Goody Two Shoes was probably just the sort of person my stepmother wished me to be: the kind of person my cousin Hetty pretended to be when adults were around. “Hetty is actually more ‘Goody Two-Faced,’” I murmured to no one in particular, turning my mind to the puzzle of why Hetty was so mean to me now.
-A Buss from Lafayette © 2016 by Dorothea Jensen
Yup, old Goody was sweet, all right. If you want to read the original story (it's very short), follow this link for two different versions. (I'm sure that Clara's teacher read the one published in 1820, btw.) Goody Two Shoes
Goody Two Shoes was originally published in 1765. The author was anonymous, but was rumored to be Oliver Goldsmith. The title came to be used to signify someone who was a "goody goody" - the type of child who not only ALWAYS behaved the right way, but also tattled on those others who did not.
Goody Two Shoes was re-published many times over the years. Usually the illustrations were re-done to reflect current clothing fashions. Here's what Margery Meanwell (AKA Goody Two Shoes) looked like at various times:
Wednesday, July 22, 2020
Tuesday, June 30, 2020
In order to stay sane during this pandemic, I've started taking another look at great reviews of my books. I figure that 1) this cheers me up and, 2) it isn't fattening.
Here is one of the first blurbs I received for A Buss from Lafayette, about five years ago.
Thursday, June 25, 2020
What are you doing, Lee? Get back on your feet!
But there’s so many of them!
I’m sorry, is this not your speed?!
Have Lafayette take the lead!
Wednesday, June 24, 2020
Here's how my main character, Clara, describes what she witnesses in A Buss from Lafayette:
I sat up in the water to peer through the woods toward the road. A six-horse stagecoach soon pulled partway into the woods and came to a stop. Perhaps the horses need a drink of water, I thought, puzzled.
But instead of someone unhitching the team so the horses could drink from the brook, someone inside started throwing things out the coach windows. Brightly colored things. Red and yellow and white and pink and . . . Why, they are roses! Hundreds of roses! I thought. Those men are throwing roses into the woods. What on earth is going on?
Here is how I imagined Lafayette describing what usually happened as he went through this or any other of the states he visited:
“Sir?” I called, covered in confusion as much as I was in brook water. “Why are they throwing these roses away?”
He laughed. “It is a bit of a guilty secret, mademoiselle.” His words were slow and deliberate. “You see, everywhere I go, people keep giving me roses, roses, and more roses! Whatever I ride in— be it barouche, or curricle, or coach—it is filled to overflowing with them! Because of this, every once in a while I must tell the small lie—that I must make the stop that is necessary—and that I need my privacy. Then I find a secluded nook like this and we cast out all the pretty flowers. Please do not tell anyone. I beg of you.”
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Hetty looked around the room as if in search of the piece of furniture most becoming to her attire, then sank down gracefully on the blue damask sofa. She pulled out a lacy white fan and waved it in front of her face. “La, it was quite wonderful. Such a handsome gentleman! So noble. And so famous!”
Below is a parlor from a house of that era in Old Sturbridge Village, a living history museum set in the 1830s. The sofa isn't blue and probably not covered in damask, but Hetty could have posed on it, don't you think??