A Small Bone to Pick with Charles Dickens

11 December 2017: From what I’ve read, the prairie was lost on Charles Dickens. When the old Englander was there (1841), he didn’t praise the tallgrass. He didn’t throw his hands up in adulation. He didn’t once stumble in his boots and mumble: My God. The prairie, to Charles Dickens, was not a scene to … Continue reading A Small Bone to Pick with Charles Dickens