Laura Lee Hope

The Blythe sisters return in this fifth volume devoted to their adventures, this time embarking on a two-week holiday to the country. Their initial destination, Crag House, turns out to be a dismal, rundown boarding house, run by a surly man and his 'slatternly' wife. The Blythe girls' fellow guests, who appear "poorly dressed, and had swarthy, foreign-looking faces," seem vaguely threatening, and speak to the proprietors in a language that 'sounds' Italian. When Rose overhears two of them show more (now speaking English, apparently) plotting to rob the girls' trunk, the sisters realize they have fallen into a den of thieves. Extracting themselves proves difficult however, until the advent of their friend Joe Morris, who masquerades as a sheriff in order to rescue them. Soon installed at nearby Peach Farm, whose proprietress and guests are as different as can be (both in terms of hygiene and also, apparently, ethnicity), the Blythe girls soon realize that the local woods are being used by the very group of men whom they encountered abusing a child on their train journey north, and whose red car they saw at Crag House. When Joe, whose job involves acting as an armed guard for his moving company's shipments of valuable goods, is shot, the girls are instrumental in bringing those responsible to justice, helping to catch a ring of thieves, and rescue the aforementioned abused child. Mrs. Butterworth, the owner of Peach Farm, is in the meantime reunited with her missing niece, who has an unexpected connection to the Blythe girls...

Many of the themes and tropes seen in the previous four volumes of The Blythe Girls series can be seen also in Three on a Vacation, from the reassuring appearance of male friends and rescuers, just at the opportune time, to the interconnected nature of seemingly disparate challenges and puzzles that the girls encounter. There is nothing here to surprise - it went without saying that the girls would resolve the issue of Laura Small, and as soon as Mrs. Butterworth appeared in the tale, I knew just how it would be done! - but the story will still have appeal for readers of vintage girls' series. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy this installment as much as the previous ones, as the latent xenophobia glimpsed in those earlier titles becomes more pronounced here. Clearly, for the author penning this 1925 tome, Italian-Americans were still considered 'foreigners,' and potentially dangerous foreigners at that. Quite by accident, I happened to be reading another vintage children's title from this period - a boys' sports novel from 1923 - that took a very different perspective, so the prejudice displayed here, although perhaps more common in the early decades of the twentieth century, was by no means ubiquitous, even then. However that may be, with the proviso that they be aware of the outdated views it contains, I would recommend this book to readers of vintage girls' fare. Having now exhausted the volumes of this series that I myself own, I plan to read the remaining seven titles at the NYPL. show less

I know I read some Bobbsey Twins books as a child, but the stories stick with me as, for example, the Boxcar Children or Little House series. Reading this as an adult, I can see why. This story is best defined as saccharine and, like that chemical, is a sickly sweet that is toxic. Subliminal racism, sexism, classism, and materialism are rampant.
While Dinah's race is never mentioned, it is obvious in the illustrations. As a servant it is just assumed that she'd be going on an extended trip, show more leaving her husband & any family (never mentioned) behind. When a twin knocks her over or contradicts her statement, she has to respond with a grin and 'never mind honey child'. Freddie's distress over a broken toy boat is solved by promising to buy him a new one. The children pretend to be 'wild Indians' and give war whoops.
The girls & women take care of the housekeeping and cooking while the males learn how to sail the boat and work a ham radio. Flossie mainly cares about her dolls and Freddie practices being a fireman. Their cousin Dorothy is the only female who shows any spunk, and is admired for diving to rescue the inflatable boat.
Mr Bobbsey is rich enough to buy a houseboat on a whim, and throws his weight around like he is in charge of everybody's business. Even so it is not enough in the confrontation with Mr Hardman, so another professional magically appears to really cower the man. And how does the banker think Mr Hardman is going to hire another worker when he can't even pay his mortgage? I get the impression the farmer will have a local reputation for not being a good place to work. show less

The Blythe sisters - motherly artist Helen (at the ripe old age of eighteen!), practical private secretary Margy, and fun-loving shop-girl Rose (the baby, at sixteen) - continue to expand both professionally and personally in this third story devoted to their adventures in 1920s New York City. Rose, whose eponymous 'great problem' consists of an unexpected offer of a better-paid position in Buffalo, NY, almost four hundred miles away from home, struggles to decide whether to follow this show more promising job opportunity or stay close to her beloved sisters. She must also contend with an unexpected breach in her friendship with Birdie North, who refuses to speak to her after Rose is befriended by the new floorwalker, Chester Drew. Margy, in the meantime, discovers from her reporter friend, Dale Elton, that her eccentric employer's nephew, the playboy socialite Rex Pepper, has designs on his aunt's fortune, and is plotting to have her declared insane. Determined to shield Miss Pepper from harm, Margy draws the malevolent attention of that young man to herself. Helen too must face drama and uncertainty, as her good friend Hugh Draper is critically injured in a car accident, and threatened with life-long disability. As she works on a new, and far more emotionally meaningful painting, Helen must also face the prospect that this young man, for whom she clearly has deep feelings, might never walk again...

Although just as enjoyable as its two predecessors, when it comes to the period details, and the depiction of life in a bygone New York, Rose's Great Problem did have some rather off-putting elements, particularly as it concerns the issue of disability, raised after Hugh's accident. Helen's reflection that nothing could be worse than being a 'cripple,' that death itself would be preferable to being "half a man," felt conspicuously outdated, and left a sour taste in my mouth. Naturally, as is so often the case in stories such as these, there is a miraculous cure, and Hugh is walking again by the end of the story, but this outcome, although expected, is robbed of some of its happiness by occurring almost at the end of the tale, where it is included in almost an anti-climactic fashion, as just one of many loose plot-ends to be tied up. Another such tying up occurs with the character of Birdie North, a character who debuted in the first book, and is finally rewarded for her consistent virtue with the ultimate prize: matrimony! Readers of vintage fiction for girls will have seen that plot development coming from a mile off. Despite these and other criticisms, which are not entirely unexpected in children's fiction of a certain age, I did enjoy reading Rose's Great Problem. Recommended to those who enjoy vintage girls' fare, or who are interested in stories of girls making their own way in the big city. show less

The three Blythe sisters - artistic Helen, practical Margy, and ebullient Rose - continue to make their way through 1920s New York City in this second installment of the twelve-volume series devoted to their adventures, each one struggling in some different way to contribute to the family economy. Helen continues to work on her painting, branching out into more original work, while Rose once again confronts an unpleasant floorwalker whilst working at the Lossar-Martin department store. show more Margy, in the meantime, continues to work for eccentric Miss Pepper, whilst also confronting a mystery involving an inheritance left to her by a distant great aunt of the Blythe girls. Sent some antique furniture, as well as a massive can of flour, which she is instructed to use in baking - a process that will lead her to more information about the inheritance - Margy and her sisters eventually discover that they are not the only ones interested in these items. As a persistent burglar begins to break into the girls' apartment, often leaving chaos in his wake, they find that Margy's inheritance has exposed them to danger...

Like its predecessor, I enjoyed reading Margy's Queer Inheritance, particularly as it is set largely in Manhattan, where I currently live and work. The period details are charming - something I usually enjoy in vintage series of this sort - and although the solution to the 'mystery' of Margy's inheritance is glaringly obvious - I guessed immediately just why Margy had to work her way through the flour-can, and knew from the first that the intruder was no random burglar - it still made for an enjoyable read. The outdated ideas of gender to be found in the first book - the girls are often rescued by their male friends, who are also often conveniently on hand to hang pictures and uncrate furniture for them - are also evident here. Rose's friend Joe Morris, who helped expose the dishonest floorwalker in the first book, here takes a hand in defeating the mean-spirited man who replaced him, despite not working at the department store himself. Still, this is nothing unusual for stories of this period, and often struck me as more amusing than offensive. Mileage will vary, of course, but regular readers of vintage children's fare are unlikely to discover anything particularly egregious in this respect. I was far more struck by the description of the new floorwalker - hired after the harsh (and apparently corrupt) Mr. Goos was fired - as a "splendid, upstanding young American." A little strange - weren't the previous two floorwalkers American? - this throwaway remark seems indicative of a low-level xenophobia, particularly when one considers the characterization of the sneak-thief 'Frenchy' - so named because he is a Frenchman - who attempts to steal Joe Morris' car at one point. These are fairly minor elements in the story, and didn't ruin the reading experience for me, but they are definitely something for the reader to be mindful of. Recommended to readers of vintage girls' series, particularly if they have read the first installment featuring these characters. show less