Daisy Asford is better known for her 'The Young Visiters' (sic)- a Victorian romance written while a child and hugely entertaining to the adult reader in terms of the child's innocence of the world and numerous inadvertent humorous moments. This volume contains three further short stories, also written before and during her very early teens.
I adored 'The Life of Father McSwiney' - the earliest work, and one obviously informed by the author's Catholic upbringing and her exposure to works on the lives of the saints.
"Even when a baby (he) seemed to have a saintly smile on his Jesuit-like face". When asked if he has made his confession, " 'No', said little James, 'but I should like to so much as I feel rather wicked.' "
The boy's piety naturally lead him into holy orders, and a meeting with the Pope, when the latter brings him a habit.
'"You have given me the wrong habit", said the good Jesuit.
"Have I? I thought you were going to be of the First Order of St Francis", said the mild and innocent Pius IX.
"Please give me the black habit, if your holiness does not mind," answered the most 'beautiful-in-his-words' Father McSwiney.'
As the Father advances in his calling ("you are the piousest of all...I'll make you a Jesuit if you like."), we have the wonderful scene of he and the Pope off sightseeing in London:
"I will now tell you where those two went. They went to Durrant's Hotel to spend a few nights with a favourite Catholic waiter of theirs. The first lark they had was to go to Drury Lane with this waiter. As the three walked together, the waiter said "There's a love scene in the play", and the Pope nudged Father McSwiney. "

The second tale, "Where Love Lies Deepest", opens with a poor girl refusing the proposal of a wealthy suitor. Real Victorian romantic fare; the poor girl actually doesnt seem too badly off at all, since an invite to spend the winter in Paris with a friend ("Oh Mother, do let me go...you know I am much stronger since I took to eating Mother Segul's Syrup.") is followed up by her meeting her farmer father in the fields and being plied with "£10 in ready gold" for a new wardrobe....

The longest, "The Hangman's Daughter" (some 170p) is quite a feat of writing. The hangman in question is a decent chap, a widower and devoted father to his daughter, Helen. But while called away to ply his trade, he meets a dreadful end at the hand of two dastardly family friends.
Moments of action ("With a cow-like jump, and with the fury of a lion, he sprang upon Lawrence"); wonderful descriptions ("a very tall, thin woman with reddy coloured hair done very high on her head and small winky blue eyes"); a heart-rending epistle, where Gladys sadly breaks with her Mother, the scene spoilt only by the girl's throwaway comment on completing it : "You will post this on the way home, won't you?" !
All most entertaining. ( )