As the best part of school was, when it occurred, Mom reading aloud, I shall try to recall some of the read-alouds that still stick in my mind. Even today if I read these books again I can hear the voices she gave the characters and even the faces she made to go along with the readings.
The Little House books, of course. Farmer Boy was the only one that didn't induce guilt for eating a good dinner afterward. The Long Winter was best read during a snowstorm, during which it was too cold to use the schoolroom and we nearly always lost power, so after we were done playing in the snow we would curl up around the stove with a kerosene lamp and hear a suitably snowy book. Another frequent choice for a snowstorm was Snow Treasure.
That reminds me of more books of WWII, and The Winged Watchman was the one Hilda Van Stockum book we owned, and we loved to hear it read. Fortunately many more of her books have been reprinted since then.
One that I never see on anyone's list, and it's probably out of print, was called, I believe, The Garden Under the Sea. I think it might have been one of Mom's old Junior Literary Guild books. It was about a collection of tidepool creatures who decided to construct their own garden of abandoned human objects in revenge for the objects swiped from the tidepools by some children. It was funny and included a good bit of information about the animals' real habits.
Carry on, Mr. Bowditch was one of our great favorites. One doesn't find that many exciting books about mathematicians. We never could settle on how to pronounce his name.
This was not a profound book, but it surely made us laugh hard: Max and Me and the Time Machine. Come to think of it, I can't think of any redeeming educational value at all. But I think memories of my whole family laughing themselves silly were a worthy end.
My father didn't do much reading aloud, except of the Bible. If we really wanted to laugh, we could give him a passage of B-grade Christian romance to read out loud. His voice would drip with mock sweetness. It would have made the cat laugh, had the cat been permitted out of the basement to listen.
These may have a special spot in my heart because they were the last books I heard read aloud before I left home: the Zoli's Legacy books. Hungary fascinates me, and these were surprisingly gritty and not-too-neatly-packaged for a Christian children's book.
This is barely scratching the surface of books I love and remember, but those are the ones I am most certain we read aloud and enjoyed together.