Tuesday, 31 May 2011

One sunny morning Pookie woke up in Belinda's work-basket. A Pookie book by Ivy Wallace

and though, "this is just the sort of morning to fly to the end of the wood and back," and very quietly, so as not to wake Belinda (she was the woodcutter's daughter, and one winter night she had saved Pookie's life and he had lived with her ever sine), Pookie dressed, packed a small bundle of Something-to-Eat, and let himself out of the cottage and flew up into the sky.

I was just cataloging this (Pookie and the gypsies) and wondered how many of you remember Pookie the little white rabbit with soft, floppity ears, big blue eyes and the most loveable smile in the world?

Ivy Wallace became a publishing phenomenon in the 1950s and 1960s with this series of books chronicling the adventures of Pookie.

A keen amateur artist, Ivy Wallace created Pookie during the Second World War. The books, beautifully illustrated by their author became a worldwide success with the stories being translated into several languages.

This book is now sold, thank you for your interest.

Monday, 30 May 2011

Book of the week - Rupert Story Book

Every time a Rupert Bear book or annual comes into stock it brings back happy memories from my childhood. The adventures of Rupert and his friends are an integral part of my young life and maybe yours too.  Therefore this weeks book of the week is a lovely copy of  Rupert's Story Book containing four stories - Rupert at school, Rupert and Algernon, Rupert and the miser and Rupert's mysterious flight.

You may also like the cover artwork from the Rupert Adventure Series published between September 1948 and June 1963. Each of the 50 covers in the series can be viewed here

Rupert Story Book now sold thank you for your interest.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

The Colonel going for his morning Chuff-about

"Peasant!" roared the Colonel, backfiring with shock."Clumsy yokel, you shall hear more of this"

Colonel Crock p. 62
By Annette Mills

This book is now Sold thank you for your interest

Thursday, 26 May 2011

Searching for Ptarmigan Pie by Alastair Glegg

In the spring of 1939, as the storm clouds of war were gathering over Europe, a young couple celebrated their engagement by taking a climbing holiday on the Isle of Skye. Donal Lindsay Glegg was 28, and just beginning to make a name for himself as a landscape painter and illustrator. Mabel Glenny, a year older, was a medical doctor working at the Bristol Infirmary. Both were experienced mountaineers and loved the challenges set by the dark jagged peaks of the Cuillins, but in those days finding accommodation could be a problem. They had spent previous Highland holidays in tents and caravans, and there were always places which provided board and lodging for climbers, but they had a dream of finding a little place of their own to use as a base for what they hoped would be many years of visits to Scotland in their future together.

After much searching they came upon a ruined croft across the river from a tiny village. The tumbled-down pile of stones did not look like much, but the chimney was still standing, and the site had wonderful views of Sgurr Dearg and the sea. They paid a formal visit to Dame Flora Macleod in Dunvegan Castle and arranged a 'feu' (or lease) to allow them to restore the croft; this they did themselves, helped by local people, especially with the thatching of the roof with reeds. It was not very big, and it had no plumbing or water or electricity, but when the peat fire was lit it was warm and cosy after a day in the mountains and glens of Skye.

A few months later they had to move their wedding date forward as war was imminent, and other things became more important. Donal was ruled ineligible for active service because of his diabetes, and spent the next five years as a lecturer on camouflage and concealment for the War Office. Mabel spent the war in looking after Alastair and Fiona, born in 1940 and 1942, and bandaging firemen and ARP workers during the Blitz.

After the war was over and a semblance of normality had returned, the young couple, like so many others, tried to pick up the pieces and resume their interrupted lives. Donal held exhibitions of his oil paintings and water colours in London and New York, and illustrated articles and a book with his lively pen-and-ink sketches and cartoons.In 1946 they wrote and published a little book about their search for a croft, which they titled Ptarmigan Pie.Things seemed to be going well. Donal's reputation was growing, commissions were coming in, and their second daughter, Flora, had been born in 1948, but a year later a terrible blow fell. Donal was forced to cut short a painting trip to the Canadian Rockies and return to England the diabetes he had lived with since the age of 12 was taking its toll, and he was going blind. He never painted again.

The adjustment must have been enormous.After a few years in which they tried their hands at farming in they decided to move to what was then Southern Rhodesia to open a hostel for the children of missionaries working in central Africa. They had always been involved in Christian youth work for organizations like the Crusaders and the Children's Special Service Mission, so this was an area in which they felt they could do something really worthwhile. Donal could still see enough to get around, although he could not read or drive and Mabel's medical training would obviously be a help. The only reminders of what might have been were the paintings of Scotland, the Alps, and the Rockies hanging on the walls of their African home. Donal and Mabel remained there until the political climate of Zimbabwe made it advisable to leave, and they joined me (their son Alastair) in VictoriaBritish Columbiawhere they lived until their deaths some fifteen years later.

They never talked much about the days before Donal lost his sight, and we never heard the full story of the croft on Skye. The wonderful paintings were still there, of course, and some old photograph albums. Most of those just contained the typical pictures of family and friends, but one recounted their travels in Scotland, and was clearly the main source of the photographs and drawings published in Ptarmigan Pie. Ten years later my wife Peggy and I were planning a trip to Britain, and arranged to meet up with my sister Fiona who was travelling from Botswana to see her son and his family. We had all visited Skye previously, and wanted to go back, so an idea was born. Would it be possible to find the croft described in our parents' little book written sixty years earlier? Donal had added captions to some of the photographs, and occasionally a compass rose to give the orientation. There was a map of Skye with an arrow, and another photograph with an arrow pointing to a white dot which must have been the croft. From this evidence it could be deduced that their croft was somewhere due west of Sgurr Dearg, set back in a low hillside, near a river with a steep bank, and close to the sea. The hamlet of Glenbrittle was the obvious place, especially as it is known as one of the main bases for climbers of the Cuillins.Of course, the croft might not even be still there, but the site should be identifiable.

We arrived in Skye in October 2006 and found the caravan we had booked six months earlier on a farm near Broadford. The weather forecast was typically pessimistic for the time of year, but we planned to drive to Glenbrittle the next day anyway as our time was short. The morning brought driving rain which got steadily worse as the day went on, but we drove north to Sligachan, then west towards Merkdale where the little road leads steeply down south to Glenbrittle. The weather was really dreadful, and we arrived at our destination in a downpour. We had all agreed that the croft must have been on the west side of the river, above a steep river bank, fairly near the sea, and facing east towards Sgurr Dearg. The mountains were hidden in cloud, mist, and driving rain, but we could make out the ruins of one deserted croft across the estuary, along with three other small houses which were either occupied or holiday homes.  None of them seemed quite right, however.

We decided to go back to the tiny village to see if there was anyone who might help. Carefully avoiding some protective and vociferous Border Collies, we went round to the back of the Glenbrittle Memorial Climbing Hut where there were some signs of life.After shedding our soaking outer clothes and shoes we were allowed inside to talk to the Warden and three Lowland climbers who had wisely decided that it was not a day to be outside. We showed them the photographs and explained our mission, and the hikers were interested, but could not help. The Warden, however, did suggest that we should go and see Mrs. MacRae who had lived in Glenbrittle for many years and might remember something or be able to identify the location of the croft from the photographs. Fiona knocked on her door, and we were greeted by a charming white-haired lady who kindly invited us to come in out of the rain.

Once again we went over the whole long story and spread out the photographs on her kitchen table; she was interested and able to identify the general area, but was not sure about the croft. She did, however, say that the name 'Glegg' was familiar, and went to call her son who lived next door. He came in and a long discussion ensued about which croft it might be: there was one still inhabited called Rowan Cottage, which might be the one, but he also mentioned a ruin to the north of Rowan Cottage. At this point the name 'Glegg' again came up, and he was able to solve the problem of why it seemed so familiar. He went back to his house, and returned with an oil painting,Summer in the Cuillins. Written on the back of the canvas was "To Mrs. MacRae, August 1940, With best wishes, D. Lindsay Glegg". It had been given to Mrs. MacRae's mother-in-law when she and her husband used to provide accommodation for climbers and it had been hanging in their home for sixty-six years. Some of the paint is flaking off a little, but the colours are still vivid, and the composition of the painting with its dark foreground and a broad expanse of sky and clouds over the mountain peaks is typical of Donal's work.

Elated with this totally unexpected discovery, we set out again into the rain to try to identify the croft.Mrs. MacRae had by this time decided that we were harmless, if a little odd, and insisted in lending Fiona her green Wellington boots. We sloshed down the road to a little gate, skidded down a muddy track towards the river, and immediately recognized the site of the croft by its position - above a steep river bank and set well back into the hill. We crossed the river on a swaying suspension foot bridge, and squelched our way up hill for a few hundred yards, following what might have been laughingly called a path.

Cattle tracks, bog, tufts of rank grass, and all the time the same determined, drenching deluge. Fiona and Peggy had pink and black umbrellas, and our progress was watched with disbelief by a gentleman in the window of Rowan Cottage - not really a day for a country stroll. The remains of the croft were another hundred yards north: it was in worse repair than when Donal and Mabel had found it, and the chimney was no longer there. However, the site and the position of the door and windows made it quite clear that this was what we had been looking for. The existing walls were only a few feet high, some stones had obviously been removed, and three rowan trees were growing out of the ruins. It was smaller than it appeared in the pictures, only about ten by twenty feet, and set well back into the hillside which made it appear even smaller. Having taken some photos from the shelter of the umbrellas, we squelched our soggy way back, still watched by the suspicious gentleman in the window of Rowan Cottage.

Back at Mrs. MacRae's we found that she had dug out an old guest book and a climbers' log and there were several relevant entries: April 21-23, 1940 had the signature 'D. Lindsay Glegg', and in May 1940 there was the entry 'Mr. and Mrs. D. Lindsay Glegg'. Furthermore, there was in the climbers' log a poem headed Being a last tribute to a famous pair of trousers appertaining to a certain lady doctor, by H.M.N., dated May 22, 1940. Surely there could not have been two lady doctors climbing in Skye at the same time in the early days of the War, just a few months before the Battle of Britain. Mrs. MacRae displayed true Highland hospitality: she had set her dining room table with tea, coffee, cream scones, oatcakes, and cake, and we spread our wet clothes in front of the fire to dry a little as we gratefully ate the delicious meal and talked about our discoveries and what had led to them. We took some photographs and made a copy of the poem before saying goodbye to our charming hostess.

So that was apparently the wonderfully successful conclusion to our quest. We drove home to our little caravan in high spirits, gaily fording the numerous flooded patches of road as the downpour continued, and celebrated our discoveries with a game of Scrabble and a jug of red wine. We had hoped to return the next day to get some better photographs, but the weather was still too cloudy and that will have to wait for another day. The last words of the book Donal and Mabel wrote about their adventures on Skye are appropriate here:

"Night comes slowly in the Northern lands, but at last the golden path fades from the sea and a grey mist creeps up the glen and makes us shiver.
The time has come to close the door and light the oil lamp and to leave the mountains to the hill foxes and the stars to whom this land belongs".

But that of course is not really the end of the story, just the end of a chapter. The croft had been found, but more questions had arisen, especially about the poem. Was it really about Mabel? Who was the author, 'HMN' - H. Masterman Neave, of Macclesfield, Essex? Mabel was a doctor and a climber, and the poem seemed to describe her exploits, but it also suggested that the Famous Trousers came from Alberta which was puzzling as neither she nor Donal had visited the Rockies before the War. The signatures in the guest book are adjacent, and show that they were there at the same rather unlikely time, May 1940, so they must have known each other. On our return to Canada we searched the Internet for clues, and immediately met with success. From 1966 to 1968 the President of the Alpine Club of Canada was a gentleman called Roger Neave, who was born in Macclesfield in 1906 and moved to Canada in 1928. He died in 1991. There clearly must be a connection, and it seemed likely that 'HMN' was a brother or perhaps a cousin. I contacted the Alpine Club of Canada and learned from a Past President that Roger Neave did indeed have a brother called Hugh, and that he was noted for writing and reciting poetry. This seemed to be the end of the search, but there was to be one more twist to the tale - Hugh Neave had himself married a doctor. At this stage I decided that we had gone far enough: there is no record of a Mrs. Neave on Skye in 1940, and perhaps it is better to leave the story with this question still unanswered than to dig further into the provenance of the Famous Trousers.

The trip was far more successful than we could ever have imagined, and just as importantly, perhaps, we met and talked to many people, all of whom were interested and helpful, and some of whom have become friends. The story has taken on life of its own, as Mrs. MacRae pointed out in a letter we received after we had sent her a copy of the original Ptarmigan Pie:
We enjoyed your visit very much and have spoken a lot about the picture to various family and friends. . . We appreciate it all the more now we have met you and re-discovered the history behind it. . . [the story] will be of interest to all our family as they get older. History is all the more precious the older one gets.

Donal and Mabel would have been pleased with that. And that really is the end of this story - except, of course, that I am sure that some day soon we will again be taking the Road to the Isles.

We are indebted to Alastair Glegg for the use of this article.

© Alastair Glegg. Not to be reproduced in whole or in part without the author's permission. 

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Next came the refreshments,

all kinds of delicious bits of vegetables and green stuff, freshly picked.

Lucy and the little red horse p.18
By Nora S Unwin

This book is now sold, thank you for your interest

Monday, 23 May 2011

Book of the week - Ladybird Telling The Time

Our book of the week this week is a Ladybird 'learning to read' book first published in 1962 our copy is a nice early edition (c1963) with its original dust jacket. This is just one of the nine titles from series 563 published between 1940 and 1980. Intended to be used by young children who were learning to tell the time.

Telling the time is now sold, thank you for your interest.

Sunday, 22 May 2011

The Enchanted Forest Ida Rentoul Outhwaite and Grenbry Outhwaite published 1925

A magical fairy story with a profusion of fairies, pixies and elves

Annabel Beatrice Lucinda wakes up one morning to find Peter Pottifer’s hutch empty. She is distraught at the loss of her pet rabbit and sets off for her morning ride with a very heavy heart.

Annabel is supposed to stay in the paddock but catching a glimpse of Peter Pottifer in the trees she and her pony Dandy set off at full gallop straight towards a ditch and the forest beyond. As they near the ditch Dandy suddenly comes to a complete halt (just as though he has run into an invisible brick wall) and Annabel goes sailing over the ditch and on into the trees. She shuts her eyes expecting to land with a terrible bump but instead finds herself skimming through the tree-trunks before coming gently down to rest. 

Annabel finds Peter Pottifer (magically transformed into a little boy) and together they explore the forest and meet all kinds of fairies, elves, pixies, frogs and even Koala bears.

The Enchanted Forest is now sold, thank you for your interest. 

Arabian Nights

Images from a couple of my books were used in the recent television programme “Secrets of the Arabian nights” narrated by Russell E Grant. Photograph via Terry Fisher Photography
More details and images at Terry Fisher Photography

This book is now sold, thank you for your interest.

Friday, 20 May 2011

An annual event - the Great British Fete

The first of many annual village fetes was advertised in our local paper last weekend and I can hardly wait!  My favourite kind always include a second hand book stall (of course), a tombola, cream teas, a dog show, and a brass band or two. Sometimes the organisers include other attractions like chariot racing, tug-of-war, fancy dress, plate smashing and even welly whanging. Two memorable fetes last year included a visit from the Sealed Knot re-enactment society and ferret racing!

These are just a few 'photos from last year.  The cup-cakes were delicious!

I will be posting more pictures of this years fetes soon

I was looking around a local book fair yesterday and couldn't resist buying this - the Puffin Picture book of Fireworks & Fetes  

This book is now sold, thank you for your interest

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Book of the week - The church Cat Abroad - Graham Oakley

Our featured book this week is the Church Cat Abroad one of the books from the much loved Church Mice series written and illustrated by Graham Oakley.

In this story Arthur, Humphrey and Sampson become film stars to help pay for repairs to the vestry roof. This leads them to be stranded on a South-Sea island from which they can only escape by masquerading as exotic animals.

The church cat abroad is now sold, thank you for your interest.

Monday, 16 May 2011

Aren't we lucky to have an island and a castle of our own!

They gazed through a big broken-down archway, to old steps beyond. The castle had once had two fine towers, but now one was almost gone. The other rose high in the air, half-ruined.

Five run away together p.89
Enid Blyton
This book is now sold, thank you for your interest

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Souvenirs from the 1951 Festival of Britain

It's sixty years since The Festival of Britain and this year the South Bank Centre is to mark the anniversary with a summer of celebrations.

The original event was devised by the then Labour deputy leader Herbert Morrison as “a tonic for the nation”. After the austerity of the war years the Festival aimed to raise the spirits of the people whilst promoting the very best in British art, design and industry.

We have several original souvenirs from the 1951 Festival in stock including a superb copy of the Sphere magazine packed with photographs and Festival related articles.

Another interesting find is a copy of the Field magazine “Festival of Britain number” with lots of period advertisements. This one caught my eye, "property for sale in West Sussex, an attractive Georgian residence complete with outbuildings, stabling for 10 horses, paddocks, four cottages and 23 acres of land all for the princely sum of £12,500". Just imagine what that would be worth today.

There are also one or two Rowland Emett Far Tottering and Oystercreek railway postcards, a booklet on the design of the Festival, an official Festival guide and a "Festival of Britain cut-out paper doll" (sadly not complete).

The above items are now sold, thank you for your interest.

The commemoration of the Festival continues on the South Bank until September 2011.

Caught off-balance

Darbishire was sent reeling

The Jennings Report  p.86
By Anthony Buckeridge

This book is now sold thank you for your interest

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Book of the week - Alison Uttley

The Mouse Telegrams 

I really like the illustrations in this little book it's from the 'Brown Mouse' series by Alison Uttley with pictures by Katherine Wigglesworth. Alison Uttley is probably better known for her 'Little Grey Rabbit' books and I loke those too but this one really appeals to me.

The mouse telegrams by Alison Uttley is now sold, thank you for your interest.

Monday, 9 May 2011

Through the prickle hedge or Aunt Matilda’s child’en, Mr Peter Dog, an’ me.

A while back I received the following email

When I was a little boy my Mother used to read me a poem called "Through the Prickle Hedge" I found out after much searching that it was written by a lady called, Marion St. John Webb and that you are listed as someone who stocks her books so my question is this "How can I get the words to this poem" as I have forgotten all but the first line.

I thought the poem might be included in a book called ‘the littlest one’ by Marion St John (Adcock) Webb and by a stroke of luck it was and even luckier I had a copy in stock so it was an easy matter to send the words. A couple of weeks later I received this reply.

What a lovely person you are, you have certainly made an old man very happy. Just to read the poem again brings back so many happy childhood memories of my Mother saying this poem to me, I think I was only 5 or 6 years old. Thanks so much, it brought a tear to my eyes after all this time.

I added this story to the ‘feedback’ page on my website and received several requests for copies of the words but by then the book had sold, and so I could not oblige.  Anyway last week I found another copy.

So for anyone who is interested this is how the poem starts;

While all the grown-up people sat an’ talked upon the lawn, we scrambled through the prickle hedge – and one of us got torn – 
and out into the lane we went, an’ passed the willow tree, Aunt Matilda’s child’en, Mr Peter Dog, an’ me. 
We’d played about the garden all the kind of games we could, and so we went along the lane an’ down into the wood. But jus’ as we had got inside an’ one of us looked round – a little girl we didn't know had followed us, we found. 
Her hair was black an’ straggly, an’ her dress was old and worn, and she on’y had one stocking on, and that was very torn. And who she was, and where she came from, none of us could tell; and when we stopped and stared at her, she stopped and stared as well.

There are a further eight verses but space and time precludes me from including them all.

At the time of writing our copy of 'the littlest one' is still in stock. Some of the other poems are the nugly little man, the hole in the curtain, the creaking stair, the magic door, the squeaky shoes, and the goblins' lanterns. The illustrations are by Margaret Tarrant.

The Littlest one was first published in 1914 and the littlest one again with a further selection of poems in 1923.

Friday, 6 May 2011

Sunshine, dogs and walking shoes

The beautiful spring sunshine over the Easter weekend encouraged us to dig out our walking shoes and take up walking again. When Rosie our Cairn terrier was alive, a daily walk was just part of the routine, but now she is no longer with us laziness has set in.  There are certainly benefits to not having a dog - trips to Australia, Fiji and Beijing for a start, but as soon as we get back we start missing Rosie again. 
You are probably thinking why not stop moaning and get another dog and therein lies the crux of the matter. The trips to Australia are to visit our son, his wife, two grown up grandsons and a brand new baby granddaughter. So the choice is – new dog and no more visits to Australia (we don’t do kennels) or no dog and perhaps a trip every year or so to Australia.  The other alternative is to sell up and move to Australia where we could have a dog and see much more of the family but at 62 would that be a daft thing to do?  And would Australia want us?
Anyway, I digress - as far as Terry is concerned no walk is complete without his camera, so walking shoes on and camera over his shoulder, we set off.As anyone who is married to a photographer Terry Fisher Photography knows few steps are taken before the camera is in almost permanent use.  What used to happen was that Rosie and I would amble along so she could take in all the delicious smells and sooner or later Terry would catch up. What happens now is I stand and wait, and wait, and wait ……. So as the saying goes – if you can’t beat them -

Join them! Just some of the ‘photos I took over Easter – not technically brilliant but they do show ‘the place where we live’ - let me know what you think.

Sidings and Suchlike - Rowland Emett

When a steam train called Nellie first appeared in the pages of Punch Magazine nobody could have foreseen how these cartoon creations would become working machines.

The cartoons were created by a young artist by the name of Rowland Emett, and many of them featured trains and railways. Nellie the steam train made her debut in the March 8th, 1944 issue of Punch, and a whole new world was created. The Branch Lines of Friars Crumbling radiated out to destinations such as Far Twittering, Buffers End, Long Suffering, Freezing in the Marrow and St. Torpid's Creek. The cartoons became extremely popular and in 1950 Emett was approached by the organizers of the Festival of Britain with a view to creating a full-size passenger carrying version of his railway system. Initially reluctant, he finally agreed and began creating the designs. Nellie was the first engine to emerge from the workshops. Two of his other trains (Neptune and Wild Goose) were also created for the renamed Far Tottering and Oyster Creek Branch Lines.  Nellie and the Far Tottering Railway carried over 2 million passengers at the 1951 Festival.

During the 1960s, Emett was commissioned to create the Honeywell-Emett Forget-Me-Not Computer and in 1968, he designed the car and other machines for the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. In 1970, work started on the Rhythmical Time Fountain, this machine with long spinning arms and four clock faces supported by a giant sunflower can still be seen in the Victoria Shopping Centre in Nottingham. These are just a few of the many machines or things as he preferred to call them designed by Rowland Emett. 

I have only a vague recollection of the Festival of Britain and Emett's cartoons but became interested in finding out more after buying a collection of books and other items from an auction. Among the many books were a dozen or so jig-saw puzzles and five of those featured trains from the Far Tottering Railway...

Rowland Emett was born in New Southgate, London, the son of a businessman and amateur inventor. His grandfather was Court Engraver to Queen Victoria. Educated at Waverley Grammar School in Birmingham Emett excelled at drawing. Although he had no mechanical or engineering training, he was already inventing devices as a child and registered his first patent at the age of thirteen for a Pneumatic Acoustic Control for a gramophone. His later studies took him to the Birmingham School of Arts where his ambition was to become a landscape painter and in 1931 his painting Cornish Harbour was exhibited at the Royal Academy.

In 1939, Emett submitted his first drawing to Punch magazine but this was promptly rejected by the Art Editor who advised him to try again. He did, sending in seven small drawings, five of which were retained and published. From the first-half page drawings, rapid success put his cartoons onto full-page and colour plates and into the Almanack Calendars. During the Second World War while still producing drawings for Punch, he worked as a draughtsman for the Air Ministry.

See also;

The wonderful, whimsical world of Rowland Emett here

Anthony and Antimacassar by Rowland and Mary Emett here

The Emett Festival Railway a Puffin cut-out book here

Souvenirs from the 1951 Festival of Britain here

Marjorie Torrey Illustrator of Alice in Wonderland

Amongst our newly acquired books is a beautiful edition of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland with illustrations by Marjorie Torrey.

We hadn't come across Marjorie Torrey before so decided to see what we could find out. It turns out there isn't a great deal of information available - she was born in New York in 1899 but sometime during the 1950s she seems to have quietly left the scene. During her lifetime she illustrated approximately eleven books for children and won Caldecott Honor medals for two books both written by Opal Wheeler, "Sing Mother Goose" (1946) and "Sing in Praise" (1947). She also wrote and illustrated four of her own books (titles unknown) and mystery novels for adults under the name of Torrey Chanslor. It may be that she is better remembered for her mystery novels than for her children's illustrations.

Another of our favourite "Alice" illustrators is G. M. Hudson

A comment left on this blog suggested the third right bottom image (as you look at the post) should be attributed to Margaret Tarrant.  Therefore, we have included this larger image showing the signature of Gwynedd M Hudson. Margaret Tarrant drew a very similar illustration of the white rabbit wearing a pink coat so that might be where the confusion arose.  We always appreciate all comments and will do our best to answer all of them.

Do you have a favourite Alice in Wonderland illustrator?

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