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May. 11th, 2010 12:34 pmThis short interval was sufficient to determine D’Artagnan on the part he was to take. It was one of those events which decide the life of a man; it was a choice between the king and the cardinal--the choice made, it must be persisted in. To fight, that was to disobey the law, that was to risk his head, that was to make at one blow an enemy of a minister more powerful than the king himself. All this young man perceived, and yet, to his praise we speak it, he did not hesitate a second. Turning towards Athos and his friends, "Gentlemen," said he, "allow me to correct your words, if you please. You said you were but three, but it appears to me we are four."
I read a lot to Morgan and Quinn, particularly at bedtime. We've read all the Harry Potter books, of course, and the Lord of the Rings and Watership Down and The Cricket in Times Square and Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn and Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and lots of others.
A while ago I started downloading books from Gutenberg to read to them. I read them Gulliver's Travels, and was surprised when Morgan followed the whole story all the way through. I read some of Tarzan and Sherlock Holmes. I tried reading them Treasure Island, which I loved, but Morgan begged me to stop about halfway through because he found the language too difficult.
Recently they were asking for science fiction stories, so I looked and found Realtime. This is a schlocky old story that I loved all to pieces when it ran in IAsfm when I was in middle school. It's a yarn about a future without books, in which an old woman who teaches her personal computer to love the old stories finds that it has adopted the identity of d'Artagnan and thinks of her as Queen Anne. The author, Daniel Keys Moran, put the whole text on the web, and I read it to the boys.
After we got through Realtime, Morgan asked if we could read The Three Musketeers.
I warned him that the language might be a little difficult but he insisted. We've been reading it for the last week or so and have finished ten chapters, with no sign of his enthusiasm flagging. (Quinn is less devoted to it, but listens to it and asks intelligent questions.)
How did I end up on this crazy train? I'm still not sure, but this is why. These moments. When your kid begs you to read more of The Three Musketeers and asks if he can have a rapier for his birthday. When he kneels before you with a Nerf sword and calls you "my liege." When he curls up next to you with a cold and says, can you read some more, dad. Read some more. More. More. More.
I read a lot to Morgan and Quinn, particularly at bedtime. We've read all the Harry Potter books, of course, and the Lord of the Rings and Watership Down and The Cricket in Times Square and Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn and Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and lots of others.
A while ago I started downloading books from Gutenberg to read to them. I read them Gulliver's Travels, and was surprised when Morgan followed the whole story all the way through. I read some of Tarzan and Sherlock Holmes. I tried reading them Treasure Island, which I loved, but Morgan begged me to stop about halfway through because he found the language too difficult.
Recently they were asking for science fiction stories, so I looked and found Realtime. This is a schlocky old story that I loved all to pieces when it ran in IAsfm when I was in middle school. It's a yarn about a future without books, in which an old woman who teaches her personal computer to love the old stories finds that it has adopted the identity of d'Artagnan and thinks of her as Queen Anne. The author, Daniel Keys Moran, put the whole text on the web, and I read it to the boys.
After we got through Realtime, Morgan asked if we could read The Three Musketeers.
I warned him that the language might be a little difficult but he insisted. We've been reading it for the last week or so and have finished ten chapters, with no sign of his enthusiasm flagging. (Quinn is less devoted to it, but listens to it and asks intelligent questions.)
How did I end up on this crazy train? I'm still not sure, but this is why. These moments. When your kid begs you to read more of The Three Musketeers and asks if he can have a rapier for his birthday. When he kneels before you with a Nerf sword and calls you "my liege." When he curls up next to you with a cold and says, can you read some more, dad. Read some more. More. More. More.
