We lived in a split-level house, and because it was warm in the upper part of the house, I had made myself a small nest of a double bed surrounded by curtains in the bottom of the four levels of our house. Every night during my l5th year, I would look forward to climbing down into my nest and becoming engrossed by the novel "Rags of Glory." I couldn't remember who wrote it but I shall never forget that it took me all summer, reading until about 2 a.m. every night to finish this novel. It was really "thick;" I'd say about 2 inches thick. I was in the thick of the civil war every night that summer. I loved it