I found that children’s books, which, in addition to being shorter than books written for adults, also had larger print, were relatively accessible to me, and I read over and over again the classics of childhood—Peter Pan, Mary Poppins, Charlotte’s Web, Huckleberry Finn, the Oz books, Doctor Dolittle—that had once, so many years earlier, opened up such unforgettable worlds to me. Now they gave me a second chance, a second wind of pleasure and beauty. But of all the children’s books, I returned most often to The Wind in the Willows. I found myself occasionally totally overwhelmed by it.
