Ten-year-old Lucinda lives in New York City, late 1800’s (or early 1900’s, I wasn’t sure). When her parents go abroad for a year, they leave her in the care of two women (teacher and seamstress) who share quarters in a boarding house. Lucinda is glad she doesn’t have to stay with her Aunt, who is quite strict and proper. Her guardians give her quite a bit of leeway, and she spends her time outside of school hours exploring the city on roller skates. She makes friends with all sorts of people from different walks of life- a cab driver, policeman, fruit vendor, an impoverished musician and his family, the daughter of an actress, a rag man who comes across her and a friend picnicking in a vacant lot, etc. All people whom her family would frown upon as not being fit company to associate with, but Lucinda is friendly to all. While not above a bit of mischief and occasional bad behavior, she does her best to be kind and thoughtful to others. She helps the fruit-stand boy fend off some bullies, brings a doctor to tend a poor family’s ill child, and creates a wonderful Christmas experience for a younger girl who never had one. She also puts on a performance of The Tempest, with the help of some friends, using puppets- after an uncle introduces her to Shakespeare. Love of books and new words is a constant, with references and quotes to many that are among my own favorites- The Water Babies, Alice in Wonderland, The Princess and Curdie, At the Back of the North Wind . . . While Lucinda is full of enthusiasm for new experiences and joy of life, her story is not without sorrow- there are two deaths in the narrative- one of strange and unsettling circumstances- which must have been rather shocking when this novel was first published (such things weren’t present in children’s books at the time). And there’s hints that Lucinda herself used to have flares of bad temper, that her family viewed her as a “difficult” child whose trials on them must be endured. One of my favorite parts in the story is when she spends a day outside skating with a bunch of other kids and dogs that join her in a throng, comes home breathless and rosy-cheeked from the exertion and says to her guardian: “I’m just too happy to live . . . . Isn’t it elegant not to have tantrums anymore? I guess half of it is because you don’t expect them, and the other half is roller skates. They use up a lot of energy and iron out a lot of feelings.”
This book should be better known! It was awarded a Newberry Medal, but I’d never heard of it before. Borrowed from the public library.