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angelkisssedx

Who's gonna pay attention to the redheads of the world?

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urstrulyeva

Dangerously Yours 1937

roseannem88

I refuse to suffer alone

@/3ullsye on Tiktok

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trickstersmagic

the tv girl thing but with willmark

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Surprise Island

Gertrude Chandler Warner

1949

20th-century-personalities

Gertrude Chandler Warner in an undated photograph. She often said that she began writing as soon as she could hold a pencil / Penguin Random House

As a girl, Gertrude Chandler Warner would sit for hours outside her home marveling as trains chugged through her sleepy hill town, Putnam, Conn. One day, peering in through the window of a stalled caboose, she made out a stove, a small table, cracked cups and a tin coffee pot whistling steam. What might it be like to sit at the table, she thought, to live in such a place?

That fixation on railway cars and the prospect of adventure they offered would inspire her to write the Boxcar Children, a best-selling series of books about four orphaned siblings who live in an abandoned railroad car. The stories form one of literature’s most popular children’s mystery series, alongside the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books. The Boxcar books — 19 by Warner and more than 200 that have been ghostwritten since her death in 1979 — are still in print and have sold more than 80 million copies worldwide.

mrmousetolliver

The Boxcar Children (1924) written by Gertrude C. Warner

jamiemccrimmon

love these animated versions of l. kate deal's original boxcar children illustrations from the nyt's "overlooked" profile of the author, gertrude chandler warner

20th-century-scrapbook

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner

“Benny discovered his beloved ‘pink cup.’” This illustration appeared in color in the first edition of the original 1924 version of “The Boxcar Children.” / Dorothy Lake Gregory

The original book tells the story of the orphaned Alden siblings (Henry, Jessie, Violet and Benny), who strike out on their own and find refuge in an abandoned boxcar, which they gussy up with treasures (cups, hay beds, a pitcher with a small chip in its “nose”) from a nearby dump.

It’s an unassuming book depicting the delights of junior domesticity — playing “house” and concocting scrumptious meals. Food — along with cleaning (dishes, clothes, the interior of the boxcar, themselves) — is a constant theme: the procuring of it, the preparation of it, the eating of it, the squirreling away of it, the anticipation of it. And, in some cases (blueberries and cherries), the literal harvesting of it.