Trumpet of the Swan

We're rereading E.B. White's Trumpet of the Swan this week. It might be Margaret's favorite book. She's very insistent that we plan a trip to Montana to see the Trumpeter swans, and I'm inclined to agree with her. There is something so very charming about the book, about a swan born mute who first learns to read and write, and then gets a trumpet to communicate. He has many adventures stemming from his need to pay for and keep his possessions. It's gorgeous, and sweet, and hilarious.

Favorite passage this week:

"This is real groovy!" cried a boy in the front seat. "That bird is as good as Louis Armstrong, the famous trumpet player. I'm going to call him Louis."

When Louis heard this, he swam alongside the boat, took his chalk pencil in his mouth, and wrote: "That's actually my name."

I have to keep reading that over and over again, because the line, "That's actually my name," results in many giggles in our house.