I ate up the first book this morning, and, gosh darn it, nearly misted up at the Lois Lenski illustrations (the ones that were in the editions I read when I was younger). Such simple pleasures, ones that can be enjoyed at any age:
They climbed and they climbed, and they came to the top of the hill.
The land was as flat as a plate, and there were oak trees scattered about, and the white house stood there ... the one the sun came up behind in the morning. They went to the white house and they peeked all around it. They almost expected to find the sun in a pocket behind that house. But there was only a deep ravine, with the sound of water gurgling, and another hill beyond.
"Goodness!" said Betsy. "The world is big."
They had thought they would be satisfied when once they had climbed the Big Hill. But now they wanted to go down in the ravine, and see this water which sounded so merry, and climb the next hill.
Mountains beyond mountains, they say ...