The Wide Window (A Series of Unfortunate Events, #3)

by Lemony Snicket

Mr. Poe was kindhearted, but it is not enough in this world to be kindhearted, particularly if you are responsible for keeping children out of danger.

And out beyond the dock was the inky blob of Lake Lachrymose, huge and dark as if a monster were standing over the three orphans, casting a giant shadow below them.

Aunt Josephine blushed again, and looked sharply at the three children. “The children seem to have forgotten their manners as well as their grammar,” she said.

Aunt Josephine’s eyes welled up, and she placed a hand on Captain Sham’s shoulder. “Oh, you poor man,” she said, and the children knew at once that they were doomed.

Business cards, of course, are not proof of anything. Anyone can go to a print shop and have cards made that say anything they like.

“And it sure worked,” Klaus said, sighing. “After he told her that sob story, she fell for his disguise hook, line, and sinker.”

The Baudelaire allergies are famous for being quick-acting, so the orphans did not have long to wait.

The Baudelaires knew that they had invented just a little bit of time for themselves, and they had to use every second of it.

They were so relieved that something had finally gone right that they laughed as if they were at the circus instead of in the middle of a lake, in the middle of a hurricane, in the middle of trouble.

“That means,” Klaus said, “that before long certain people will come to look at it. And some of those people”—he paused here dramatically—“will be realtors.”

“I tried to do the sensible thing,” Aunt Josephine said sourly. “But these children came and got me.”

The Baudelaires looked at their guardian in horror. “You’re supposed to be caring for us,” Violet told Aunt Josephine in astonishment, “not putting us up for grabs!”

“Oh come now,” Mr. Poe said yet again. “That won’t work. Anyone can go to a print shop and have cards made that say anything they like.”

“I said that’s enough,” Mr. Poe growled. Count Olaf, the Baudelaire orphans, and even the massive creature looked surprised that Mr. Poe had spoken so sternly. “You have preyed upon these children for the last time, and I am making absolutely sure that you are handed over to the proper authorities. Disguising yourself won’t work. Telling lies won’t work. In fact there’s nothing at all you can do about your situation.”

The moral of “The Three Bears,” for instance, is “Never break into someone else’s house.” The moral of “Snow White” is “Never eat apples.” The moral of World War One is “Never assassinate Archduke Ferdinand.”

They leaned up against one another appreciatively, and small smiles appeared on their damp and anxious faces. They had each other. I’m not sure that “The Baudelaires had each other” is the moral