This is a very strange book, but it grew on me and in the end it felt quite charming.

It appears as a typical Edwardian children's book, with small illustrations in each chapter head (Lois Lenski in my edition) and a few tipped-in coloured plates. But reading it soon shows a strange divergence: the grammar and vocabulary is much more adult. Even for an era in which children could be expected to know, and quote in play, the characters of the Argosy, this is unusual. It's soon revealed as an adult biography instead, looking back to childhood but written in a contemporary first person narrative.

If anything, this reminded me of the Just William stories. But don't tell Martin Jarvis. ( )

Various episodes in the lives of five children.

2.5/4 (Okay).

I'm glad I read the second book (Dream Days) first; it's much better than this one, and I might not have enjoyed it as much if the joke of the writing style was already old from reading this book. Nothing here is memorable the way the best parts of Dream Days are. ( )

I thought this was a children's book but it was more a memoir of childhood but written perhaps as a child would think it. Completely charming, though bits if British Childhood remain mysterious.

A lovely blend of the reminiscences of Kenneth Grahame's own childhood experiences, fantasy, metaphor and ancient Greek Legends. I particularly enjoyed reading the chapter 'A white-washed Uncle'. ( )

This is not a children's book; the target audience is the adult in us who remembers something of what it was like to be a child. Kenneth Grahame makes the everyday adventures and imaginary play of the narrator and his siblings seem idyllic.
The illustrations by Maxfield Parrish are done in black and white and I suspect that they would be lovely in color.

Some quotes I liked:

[In describing The Olympians--grownups---]:
Indeed, it was one of the most hopeless features in their character ... that, having absolute licence to indulge in the pleasures of life, they could get no good of it.... No irresistible Energy haled them to church o' Sundays; yet they went there regularly of their own accord, though they betrayed no greater delight in the experience than ourselves. [p. 4]

Time, the destroyer of all things beautiful, subsequently revealed the baselessness of these legends; but what of that? There are higher things than truth; ... "Alarums and Excursions" [p. 49]

Hither the yoke-shouldering village-fold were wont to come to fill their clinking buckets; when the drippings made worms of wet in the thick dust of the road. They had flat wooden crosses inside each pail, which floated to the top and (we were instructed) served to prevent the water from slopping over. We used to wonder by what magic this strange principle worked, and who first invented the crosses, and whether he got a peerage for it. "Finding the Princess" [p. 56]
[Googling found this quote about wells: "Some buckets had a hoop with a wooden cross placed on top of the water in the bucket to prevent spillage." [p.35] at http://www.redlynchparishcouncil.org/Wells%20and%20Springs.pdf]

"These stories had their origins, my dear," [their governess] explained, "in a mistaken anthropomorphism in the interpretation of nature. But though we are now too well informed to fall into similar errors, there are still many beautiful lessons to be learned from these myths ---" "Snowbound" [p.124] ( )