Finished up two books today: Millions and Mrs. Daffodil. The first was written by the same author as Framed (here). Another story narrated by a young boy. This time it's Damian. He finds a bag of pounds sterling that is destined to be burned by the British government in preparation for switching over to the euro. The money is part of a bigger robbery and must be spent in just 17 days or it will be worthless.
Damian is in the fourth grade. His brother Anthony is in the fifth. Their mother is dead and the dad works long hours. Anthony wants to buy stuff; Damian, who studies the lives of saints, thinks perhaps the money (which he is sure was dropped out of the sky by God) could be put to more charitable purposes. There are Mormans, greedy classmates, their parents, the Man with the Glass Eye, and a donkey. And then there are the real saints...Francis, Joseph...who keep appearing to Damian. It is all rather a romp. Just the book for reading before going to sleep.
Mrs. Daffodil was a delight (here). I do love books written about country life. Having read Gladys Taber's first-person account of life in the country, Stillmeadow Calendar (here), it was a bit disconcerting to read this book which is written in the third person. I know all along that these are Gladys' experiences.
I wonder how she liked writing in this detached way. Makes me want to try it sometime.
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