The five young Dalfreys - fifteen-year-old Anne, fourteen-year-old Roddy, thirteen-year-old Barbara, eleven-year-old Chrissy, and six-year-old Toby - spend a summer at Sandy Point, on the Canadian side of Lake Eerie, in this holiday adventure story from Jane Abbott. Left in the care of Ol'Phemia, their family's faithful black servant, when their father's job unexpectedly takes him and their mother to Norway, the children start out the season amicably enough. A close-knit and loving group, who had always played imaginative games together, they soon found that the friendships they made - Anne with the wild young heiress Alix Baird, Roddy with local boy Derek Wheeler, and Barbara and Chrissy with the snobby young daughters of some "summer people" - were tearing them apart. Anne in particular, who had promised her mother to look out for her younger siblings, and who had mixed feelings about growing up, found it a trying season, getting into many scrapes with Alix, and alienating Roddy in the process. It was only when Toby went missing, and the children became involved with the mysterious "smuggler" hiding out on the derelict ship in the lake, that these issues - Anne's neglect of the younger children, her willingness to ignore Alix's shortcomings, and (most importantly) her conflicted feelings about Derek Wheeler - were resolved. The book concludes as Anne reflects back on the season, and on the changes she has undergone, and ponders the nature of becoming a grownup...

The second children's novel I have read from Jane D. Abbot, following upon her 1920 school-story, Highacres , The Young Dalfreys (published in 1932) is an interesting mixture of family story and coming-of-age novel. Not quite what I expected, going in - somehow, I had the idea that it would be more of a light-hearted holiday adventure story, with plenty of mystery and hi-jinx, and little soul-searching - it was neverthless engaging. The conflicts between the eponymous young Dalfreys are well-drawn by Abbott, and feel believable and natural. Anne, from whose perspective the story is told, is a flawed but likable character, and the reader enters into her feelings, even when exasperated at her seeming inability to stand up to Alix, or to acknowledge her failings. There is some content here that is decidely dated - Ol'Phemia speaks in the southern dialect assigned to African-American characters in so many children's books of this era, and was sent to the Dalfrey family (almost like a possession?) by Mrs. Dalfrey's mother, as an act of reconciliation; there is also one use of the n-word (p. 168) - so readers should bear that in mind, when considering whether to give this one a try. This was a low three-star read for me. What saved it from demotion to a two-star title was Anne's ruminations on the idea of life being made up of patterns and doors, and her realization that maturity entails learning to recognize those patterns and doors. Recommended primarily to readers who have (like me) an interest in this author, or in vintage American children's literature in general. ( )