The Harriet Bean 3-Book Omnibus: The Five Lost Aunts of Harriet Bean; Harriet Bean and the League of Cheats; The Cowgirl Aunt of Harriet Bean

The Harriet Bean 3-Book Omnibus: The Five Lost Aunts of Harriet Bean; Harriet Bean and the League of Cheats; The Cowgirl Aunt of Harriet Bean

Language: English

Pages: 296

ISBN: 0345808762

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


From bestselling novelist Alexander McCall Smith comes a charming set of mysteries that will keep young readers guessing--and laughing--from the first clue to the last.
     Harriet Bean loves nothing more than a good mystery, and is always ready to take on a new case. When Harriet Bean's father mentions that he has five sisters--whom Harriet has never met--she is immediately intrigued. Harriet is determined to uncover the whereabouts of her five lost aunts, but with nothing more than an unfinished family portrait and a few outdated clues, will she be able to locate them? In The Five Lost Aunts of Harriet Bean, join Harriet in her search to reunite her father with his five lost sisters--Veronica, Harmonica, Majolica, Japonica, and Thessalonika.
In Harriet Bean and the League of Cheats, Harriet doesn't think twice when her mind-reading detective aunts Japonica and Thessalonika enlist her help to catch a cheat at the racetrack. After all, Harriet is just the right size to go undercover as a jockey. But when the plan takes an unexpected turn, Harriet finds herself in the saddle!
In The Cowgirl Aunt of Harriet Bean, when Harriet discovers that she has yet one more lost aunt--a cowgirl named Formica--she jumps at the chance to join her two detective aunts on a visit. Aunt Formica's ranch is being plagued by devious cattle rustlers, and she needs Harriet's help to track down the bandits and save the ranch. But the Wild West carries dangers all its own. . .

Curious George and the Firefighters

The Mystery of the Burnt Cottage (The Five Find-Outers, Book 1)

SpongeBob's Easter Parade (SpongeBob SquarePants)

Dora's Sleepover (Dora the Explorer)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

they were satisfied that a mistake had indeed been made, they turned on the painter and began to scold him severely. “You’ve painted Thessalonika’s head on my shoulders!” protested Aunt Japonica. “Look. That’s definitely my body and that’s undoubtedly her head!” The painter’s jaw dropped and his mustache seemed to wiggle like the tail of a rabbit caught in a trap. There was really very little he could say to excuse himself, and he just had to stand there and accept his scolding. “Well!” said

things out. That’s what made them good detectives, I imagined. We sat down for tea, and while Aunt Thessalonika cut the cake, Aunt Japonica explained why they wanted to see me. “We could tell that you were interested in detective work,” she explained. “We could tell that from the moment we met you,” chipped in Aunt Thessalonika. “Yes,” said Aunt Japonica, and then, from the side of her mouth, “please concentrate on what you’re doing, Thessalonika. Cutting cake is not an easy task.” Aunt

suited her name, of course. They had no musical instruments then, but Harmonica had the most enchanting voice anybody could imagine. She sounded like a nightingale, and visitors to the farm would stand in wonder if they heard her singing. And she could do something else too. She was a ventriloquist, which meant that she could throw her voice. She could throw her voice into a trunk and make it sound as if there were somebody inside. She could throw it behind a curtain and make you quite positive

just as angry as my aunts. But at the same time, I knew that if there was anybody who could solve the mystery and deal with the rustlers, it would be my two detective aunts. “Don’t worry,” I said to Aunt Formica. “Aunt Japonica and Aunt Thessalonika can deal with this for you. If I were a rustler now, I’d be very, very worried.” Aunt Formica looked doubtful. “I hope you’re right, Harriet,” she said. “But these people must be very clever and very dangerous. I’m afraid it won’t be easy.” Aunt

“There it is!” I peered through the darkness. At first I saw nothing, but then I saw it in the distance, a tiny point of flickering yellow light. “That’s their campfire,” said Aunt Formica in a low voice. “Cowboys are often afraid of the dark. Campfires make them feel safer.” I was astonished to hear this. “And cowgirls?” I asked. “Do they make campfires too?” “Hush,” said Aunt Formica. “No, they don’t. Cowgirls aren’t afraid of the dark, you see.” I felt much better when I heard this. I

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