This is a very strange book, and I suspect that a good portion of that for me is due to more than a century of distance in reading it. However, that is not completely it. First of all, the book is laid out in almost a series of connected short stories. These stories somewhat build on each other, and there are common themes among them. I think the strangest parts to me were understanding the emotions between people conversing, as they were often portrayed contrary to what I expected.

I think the best part for me what the opening poem:

Where the slanting forest eaves,
Shingled tight with greenest leaves,
Sweep the scented meadow-sedge,
Let us snoop along the edge;
Let us pry in hidden nooks,
Laden with our nature books,
Scaring birds with happy cries,
Chloroforming butterflies,
Rooting up each woodland plant,
Pinning beetle, fly, and ant,
so we may identify,
What we've ruined, by-and-by.

That poem seemed to suggest some irony and suspense to look forward to, and there was some, but not nearly as much as I expected. ( )

Just love the silly humour in this book ( )