I read Mark Twain's Puddin'head Wilson as a Classic Comic over sixty years ago. So when I had a chance to download the book for free, I did.
I remembered it was about how two children, one the son of a slave woman and the other the son of a wealthy couple were so identical in appearance that when the slave mother, who had the care of the babies, switched them in their cradles, no one knew and the two grew to adulthood unaware of the truth.
I remembered there was something about fingerprints -- a fledgling science at the time of the novel.
The book is an interesting read for Twain's picture of small town America in slavery days. And, of course, for Twain's wit.
But I was surprised at the memories that came back as I read -- I think that I read this particular comic at my friend Ann Hunsberger's house -- very possibly up in the tree house in the big oak by the sidewalk. I can't be sure but that was what flashed into my mind as I read, along with hazy memories of some of the comic panels -- a closeup of a flashing knife. . . a picture of the two little boys in one little wagon -- one in fancy clothes, one in plain . . .
My Kindle is loaded with all sorts of things to read and listen to. David Sedaris and Let's Explore Diabetes With Owls keeps me company through the night and Patrick Tull is waiting to read the first five or six Aubrey-Maturin books to me. I've just finished Social Life in Old Virginia Before the War and have begun The Lemoncholy Life of Annie Aster.
And am reminded I need to have my recently purchased copy of The Clay Girl brought to me . . .
So many books . . . and so much time . . .
Deborah Gurd Gregorash
