No stars, but it deserves five cans of corn.
One of the funniest things I've read in years, outclasses any Wodehouse I've come across with the exception of The Clicking of Cuthbert, and even that takes second place.
English "gentleman's man" Ruggles is lost by The Honourable George in a game of drawing poker and transported Out West to rehabilitate the dress, manners, and so forth of a rough cowboy.
This was made into a movie starring Charles Laughton in the 30s but the book is far, far superior. Worth six stars if I were to give them.
Not every reader will like this book nor agree with me that Quiller is one of the best writers around, but at his best he can't be beaten.
This is wonderfully droll and ironic, featuring an impossibly bright and mature six-year-old and a bizarre group of religious paupers.
If you have some Latin, brush it up.
(stars mean nothing)
Possibly the worst short story collection I've ever read. As too often happens, the editoróJessup, finds it necessary to spout off at length about his vast knowledge and the idealized reasons for choosing these particular tales, wasting space which might have held two more stories.
It contains a one or two humorous stories, some droll efforts, a couple of decent anecdotes, one of the worst things Poe ever wrote, a weak example of Bret Harte, Twain's Jumping Frog, and at least one tale that no rational person would ever call humor.
If I gave stars (which I no longer do) it would rate minus 1.