Who Doesn't Like Peppermint Lozenges?

I mean, I don't 100% identify with Emily. I found one little bit, when Emily compulsively chokes down one of kind Cousin Jimmy's peppermints, hard to relate to. I love peppermints. I even enjoy those red and white wheels made of ceramic.

L.M.'s portrayal of Emily's decision to hide under the table and listen in on the Murrays' decision about who should raise her conveys a sense of motion that is almost televisual in effect. "There was a flash of black stockings across the rug, a sudden disturbance of drapery and then - silence." And I think her dramatic outburst upon hearing Aunt Ruth slur her father as a failure shows the difference between herself and the composed Murrays very well. They seem much more human in that moment after Emily is escorted out of the room, when they all groan at the prospect of adopting such a challenging child.

And it's funny that they make such a show of leaving Emily's future to fate, when she should clearly go with the adults who actually sympathize with her, Cousin Jimmy and Aunt Laura. The hierarchy of family authority prevented them from claiming her outright, I suppose.

The immediate destruction of Emily's world of cats and words made me sad. How could Aunt Elizabeth make her choose between her cats? I have two cats, one an orange fluffer and one a sleek calico, and I'd be hard pressed to pick just one. An even harsher blow, though, came to the little wordsmith through Aunt Elizabeth's refusal to let her private thoughts stay private. L.M. made the thing seem so cruel, with Emily choosing to burn her words rather than see them made ridiculous. I think her father's decision to raise her without the discipline of convention set her up to suffer during the transition from his care to that of the Murrays, who pride themselves on being masters of propriety.

I enjoyed the description of their stopover in Charlottetown. I love L.M.'s descriptions of clothing, and I like to imagine Emily's nice new dresses. And the magic of New Moon to Emily's unfamiliar eyes, delightful! The sorrow of the little "fathersick" girl, contrasted with Aunt Elizabeth's rigidity, made me feel terrible for Emily. Fortunately the Wind Woman swept in to comfort her.