A Gift

Recently my father was on a long weekend trip to London, something of which I in no way was even remotely jealous. Ok, fine. Maybe a tad jealous. It is such a nice city. Great for walking around in, just taking in the many sights. Especially the British Museum. An absolutely fantastic place. As you may have suspected already, I am most definitely an anglophile, and as any good anglophile I am quite the fan of Sherlock Holmes. Which of course is something that my father is aware of, so he bought me this little gift:

It is the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, the collection of the first 12 short stories that Arthur Conan Doyle wrote. It may be hard to tell from the picture, but it is not a regular sized book, but a large paperback version. That will indeed make a nice addition to my bookcase. 

Look at those lovely illustrations. Colorized versions of the original art of Sidney Paget. Just beautiful. The book even has small fact boxes interspersed throughout the book, explaining various things that comes up in the stories. An excellent feature, in my opinion. Reading this book is going to be an utter joy.