Anyone who can read through the first link below without feeling nauseous is much stronger than I.

The story's the furthest thing from profane--it's just proof that people wrote stupidly even 100 years ago and gives hope maybe we all haven't been getting dumber. Behold, the Arabella and Araminta stories.

I would never have found them if not for the internet--surprisingly, worldcat doesn't list them in any nearby libraries except U of C, which claims not to have a copy. I don't blame them.

The shaggy dog story for how I found these was

1. I read the Guardian top 10 book lists, noticing that the Adrian Mole series popped up a lot in people's favorites.
2. I read the Wikipedia page on Adrian Mole, who would've been Nigel but for Nigel Molesworth. Read the Adrian Mole books. The early ones are very good--the later ones, okay.
3. I read all about St. Custard's in the Compleet Molesworth.
4. Read Molesworth 3 times while I had it out on interlibrary loan.
5. Found there were two sequels--a grown up Molesworth--and bought the one I couldn't get on interlibrary loan.
6. Found Basil Fotherington-Thomas's sister and wife, Arabella and Araminta, funny. Internally applauded the author's creativity.
7. Somehow by accident found "Arabella and Araminta" was an actual book.

It's certainly no Young Visiters.

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