It is a mystery, so as we read we're supposed to try to figure out who did the murder there's almost always a murder or it wouldn't be fun and that's what I did, I tried to figure out who did the murder. This time I didn't figure out who the bad guy was until she wanted me to figure out who the bad guy was.
The end of the mystery is so odd that I am going to have to mention in the review just so I remember it one day when I'm trying to decide where the book came from, why I have it, did I read it, and most importantly, did I like it. So I will mention the bad guy, but don't worry I'll put it in a spoiler. And here we go, as I said there is a murder. A girl is found with her head "bashed in" along the side of a lonely, not traveled often, lots of spooky trees and such, road.
The story teller is Molly Morganthau, and we hear the entire story by Molly telling it to us. I will let you meet her in the second paragraph of the book. My name's Morganthau because my father was a Polish Jew—a piece worker on pants—but my two front names, Mary McKenna, are after my mother, who was from County Galway, Ireland. I was raised in an East Side tenement, but I went steady to the Grammar school and through the High and I'm not throwing bouquets at myself when I say I made a good record.
That's how I come to be nervy enough to write this story—but you'll see for yourself.
Only just keep in mind that I'm more at home in front of a switchboard than at a desk. I've supported myself since I was sixteen, my father dying then, and my mother—God rest her blessed memory! First I was in a department store and then in the Telephone Company. I haven't a relation in the country and if I had I wouldn't have asked a nickel off them.
I'm that kind, independent and—but that's enough about me. Our dead girl is Sylvia Hesketh, the wealthy belle of Longwood. The mystery is not only who killed her, but what was she doing at that location. There is nothing that would make Sylvia go there. It is a lonely road, dirt probably, but I don't remember for sure. There are one or two farms and a tavern that is almost always empty, open or not. But for some reason our wealthy belle is walking about in the middle of the night - of course , things like this only happen in the middle of the night, and ends up dead.
So, who killed her? Some believed that the reason he didn't approve of any of the many men she flirted with was because if she marries there goes the money that supports him. I'm not sure why things are this way, he is a doctor, but I guess doctors didn't get paid all that much at that time. Either that or he just didn't work too hard at it. So perhaps he murdered her. Then again I thought of her mother, after all, Sylvia is pretty much making her life miserable constantly fighting with the doctor. Here they are: "They lived in great style with a housekeeper, a butler and a French maid for the ladies.
In the garage were three automobiles, Mrs.
Fowler's limousine, the Doctor's car and a dandy little roadster that belonged to Miss Sylvia. Neither she nor the Doctor bothered much with the chauffeur. They left him to take Mrs. Fowler round and drove themselves, the joke going that if Miss Sylvia ever went broke she could qualify for a chauffeur's job. After a while the story came out that it wasn't Mrs.
Fowler who was so rich but Miss Hesketh. The late Mr. Hesketh had only left his wife a small fortune, willing the rest—millions, it was said—to his daughter. She was a minor—nineteen—and the trustees of the estate allowed her a lot of money for her maintenance, thirty thousand a year they had it in Longwood. Her face was pure pink and white, the only dark thing in it her big brown eyes, that were as clear and soft as a baby's.
Central Illinois Girl Scouts Are Keeping Girls Interest Despite Decline In Membership | WGLT
And she was a great dresser, always the latest novelty, and looking prettier in each one. There was none of the haughty ways of her parents about Miss Sylvia.
When she'd come into the exchange to send a call a thing that puzzled me first but I soon caught on she'd always stop and have a pleasant word with me. On bright afternoons I'd see her pass on horseback, straight as an arrow, with a man's hat on her golden hair. She'd always have a smile for everyone, touching her hat brim real sporty with the end of her whip. Even when she was in her motor, speeding down Main Street, she'd give you a hail as jolly as if she was your college chum. Sometimes she'd be alone but generally there was a man along. There were a lot of them hanging round her, which was natural, seeing she had everything to draw them like a candle drawing moths.
They'd come and go from town and now and then stay over Sunday at the Longwood Inn—it's a swell little place done up in the Colonial style—and you'd see them riding and walking with her, very devoted.
Apply for the Dr. Jill E. Hungerford Memorial Scholarship
At first everybody thought her parents were agreeable to all the attention she was getting. It wasn't till the Mapleshade servants began to talk too much that we heard the Fowlers, especially the Doctor, didn't like it. A lot of them according to Molly and that brings us a whole bunch of possible bad guys. Jealous guys, angry guys.
The two that stand out are, Jack Reddy, although his family at one time owned much of the land in the area, as time went on more and more was sold, and now Jack has one estate where he lives with two servants, and also some land by the lake - wherever that is - and built a little cabin on it where he goes a few times each summer. The other is Mr. Cokesbury, he is quite a bit older than Sylvia but she doesn't seem to care.
One of the hints Molly gives us to finding out who our killer may be is this: I was walking slow down Main Street when opposite the post office I saw all the loafers and most of the tradespeople lined up in a ring staring at a bunch of those dago acrobats that go about the State all summer doing stunts on a bit of carpet. I'd seen them often—chaps in dirty pink tights walking on their hands and rolling round in knots—and I wouldn't have stopped but I got a glimpse of little Mick Donahue stumping round the outside trying to squeeze in and trying not to cry because he couldn't.
So I stopped and hoisted him up for a good view, telling the men in front to break a way for the kid to see.
- Join Today.
- His uncles or His daddies? (sauna tale);
- The investigation!
- VENISE (A LA LIMITE DU MONDE t. 1) (French Edition).
- Become a Girl Scout!
- Girl Central Tea Dance | Gay8 Festival?
- 12222-2020 Dr. Jill E. Hungerford Memorial Scholarship.
There was a dago scraping on a fiddle and while the acrobats were performing on their carpet, a big bear with a little, brown, shriveled-up man holding it by a chain, was dancing. Volunteers of America-Greater New York encourages including a note to the student receiving the backpack with words of encouragement for their first day of school. We will provide the stationery and sample messages.
Light refreshments will be served. Kids will receive a FREE fun patch. Register today for this free event! Lion Brand Yarn launched this antibullying campaign in to increase awareness of the impact of bullying. Learn more. Available in English and Spanish. Register today! Are you a Senior or Ambassador in need of volunteer hours? Earn them by assisting at Girl Scout Central activities. Girl Scout Central will provide you with a letter confirming the number of hours you completed and the services you performed. To sign up or for more information, email us.
A Girl Scout Central staff member will follow up with you about the event details and next steps. Your girl with challenge her limits in unforgettable ways. You will be amazed at the confidence your camper brings home! Register for Summer Camp. Browse the Summer Camp Guide. Bronze Award Chat. Silver Award Chat. Gold Award Chat. Girl Scouts Love Starved Rock!
- Bombastic Ballads of Beauty and Bewilderment.
- Girl Scout Central!
- Le Corbusier: Architect of the Century!
- The Trials of a Priestess 5: Under Her Control (Lesbian Femdom Erotica).
- The Ephemera.
- Geraldine Bonner!
- Drinking with Strangers: Music Lessons from a Teenage Bullet Belt.
Wizard of Oz at the Springfield Muni.