Herckle Portrait

When we were out in Boston visiting Ed's father in June, we told him about Molly's fondness for mysteries and he asked if we'd considered starting her on the Classics yet. He meant Sherlock Holmes. I said that I thought Molly would be totally fascinated by the convoluted trails of deductive logic but that at this point the vocabulary and historical details would leave her too much at sea.

But we went to an out-of-town wedding the weekend before last, and stayed at a Country Inn & Suites; this hotel chain does a little lending library, and in addition to a couple of children's books that she finished while we were staying there, Molly picked up Murder on the Orient Express.

She was confused by the French that Poirot throws out, and at one point she wanted to know what a valet was, but she read the whole thing and was even trying to guess who did it when she was about 2/3rds of the way through.

We did tell her the correct pronunciation of the great detective's name, but I don't think she retained it.