I was reminded of this book by the recent J.K. Rowling pseudonym saga, not because Frances Hodgson Burnett wrote under a pseudonym but because she wrote a different style of book for adults and for children. In her case she was more prolific as a writer of books for adults but it is her children's books, like this one, that have survived for over a hundred years.
There is a sentimentality about her books that can be a little off putting but, if you take the time to read this book, there is also a powerful sense of the vitality of life that is breath taking. There is more depth here than one might expect.
I should add that Rowling shares none of Burnett's sentimentality and that history is yet to judge which of Rowling's books will stand the test of time. It is likely few of us will be around to know!