The Aunts go Marching, by Maurie J. Manning, 2003

A minor twist on the well-known song produces Manning's hundred-plus aunts in raincoats and umbrellas marching to market, led by one very sweet-cheeked little aunt with red drum and yellow slicker. Less of a story, more of a showcase of Manning's illustrative talents, and a nostalgic tribute to the frumpy, endearing aunt-figures of days gone by, in their dresses and rainboots and caps and grocery satchels. A visual pleasure, and my children enjoyed chanting the words and drumbeats, even if I was impatient to get to ten and be done with it.

Cousin Ruth's Tooth, by Amy MacDonald, ill. Marjorie Priceman, 1996

A lost tooth and a houseful of exuberant relatives concoct a colorful mixup in this rhyming romp. Whimsy abounds in the very extended family's efforts to locate or replace Ruth's dental loss, however, the poem's play does run away with itself eventually, and this reader felt less might have been more. Still, lively and fun. Recommended.

Marshmallow, by Claire Turlay Newberry, 1942

What happens when a baby bunny invades a bachelor cat's Manhattan apartment sanctuary? Friendship, or lunch? Newberry's charcoal illustrations of cat and rabbit are delectable. Six decades of stylistic prose changes to the picturebook notwithstanding, the sweetness and warmth of "Marshmallow" come shining through. Strongly recommended.

The Awful Aardvarks Go to School, by Reeve Lindbergh, ill. Tracey Campbell Pearson, 1997

When a quartet of ADD aardvarks invade a multi-species elementary, it takes the whole alphabet to recount the damage. Surprise, whimsy, rhyme, meter, story, tension, and a clever ending all invite multiple rereadings. Phonetics alone are a pleasure. The dread I usually feel when faced with a) an alphabet book, and b) a rhyming book, were happily unnecessary here. Strongly recommended.

The Red Bird, by Astrid Lindgren, trans. by Patricia Crampton, ill. Marit Tornqvist, 2005 (text 1959)

Poor orphans Marit and Anna live drab grey lives of cold and sorrow, toiling to milk and muck the cows of the Myra farmer. They live only for the winter session of school, but there they are mocked for their poverty and hunger. When all reason to live on is gone, a red bird appears and leads them to a place of eternal spring. A haunting and melancholy storybook, offering hope, solace, and many possible interpretations. Delicate, evocative illustrations. Recommended.

Sally and the Some-Thing, by George O'Connor, 2006.

When home gets boring, Sally goes fishing, until something slithery comes out of the pond to meet her. Strong, concise characterization; subtle and sustained humor throughout on several levels; skilfull and richly-textured illustrations enhance its pleasures. Far from boring. Recommended.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch, by Trinka Hakes Noble, ill. Tony Ross, 1987

Nothing much ever happens to Farmer Hicks in the slow-movin' West. For his wife, Elna, there's never a dull moment, with kittens, puppies, piglets, colts, and calves born, prizes and inheritances won, and oil discovered. A tongue-in-cheek picture book with cartoonish illustrations. For this reader, the attempted humor fell as flat as the Western horizon. Not recommended.

The Time Hackers, by Gary Paulsen, 2005

Dorso's getting tired of holographic artifacts, such as rotting corpses, showing up in his locker. When Custer and Beethoven appear and seem to see Dorso, defying all the tenets of the grandfather rule of the paradox of time, he realizes something's wrong with his time travel circuitry, and so long as he has his laptop with him, he's liable to be swept into a critical juncture of history, and right in the line of fire. As with most time travel fiction, the attempt to explain the metaphysical premise grows convoluted and wearisome. However, this novel packs a lot of action and humor into remarkably few pages. Dorso's friend Frank singlehandedly justifies the paper the novel is printed on. A fun, quick read; recommended.

Taking Care of Moses, by Barbara O'Conor, 2004

Someone left a baby on the steps of the Rock of Ages Baptist Church, and the whole town of Foley, South Carolina, is in an uproar about it. Nobody knows whose baby it is -- not childless Pastor Jennings and his wife Charlotte, who quickly "adopt" the baby; not Miss Freida the foster mother who's got a license to care for him. Only Randall Mackey knows. But he can't tell. And it's pretty much tearing him and Foley in two. A strong sense of place infuse the dialogue and conflict; Jaybird and Althea are literary siblings not soon forgotten. Strongly recommended.

Midnight Magic, by Avi, 1999

Fabrizio, 12-yr old servant to ex-magician Mangus, accompanies his master when summoned to the castello to help the King by exorcising a ghost who haunts the princess Teresina. Mangus, who has sworn off magic trickery, believes in reason, not ghosts, and he despairs of his life, for if he does not find the ghost, King Claudio will kill him, and the king's evil advisor, Count Scarazoni, will kill him if he does. There's nothing left but for Fabrizio to take the mystery into his own hands. But is he a player or a pawn in a ghostly game of chess? Strongly recommended for fans of historical whodunnits.

The Young Man and the Sea, by Rodman Philbrick, 2004

Not since Skiff Beaman's mom dad has his dad, Big Skiff, gotten off the couch or off the bottle, and so it's up to 12-year old Skiff to run the house and rescue their sunken fishing boat, the Mary Rose. But fixing her waterlogged engine will cost at least five grand, and the Beamans, who live in the last house along the river with an outhouse, ("swampers" as rich kid Tyler Croft calls his folks), can't afford it. Lobstering doesn't earn money fast enough, so when a sportfisher harpoons a giant tuna that commands $6k from a sushi tuna buyer, Skiff hatches a plan. A strong, authentic voice carries a heroic yet believable plot all the way to its surprising close. Strongly recommended.

The Little Gentleman, by Phillippa Pearce, 2004

Bet doesn't know why Mr. Franklin has asked her to read a scientific book about worms while sitting on a log in a meadow, but she doesn't mind doing it anyway. Mr. Franklin isn't cracked in the head after all, she learns, when a mole pops his snout out of his hole and starts speaking with her about earthworms, Mr. Franklin, and the failed Jacobite plot of 1702 to place James of Scotland on the British throne. Contemporary fiction meets history by way of an underground twist, and "the little gentleman in the velvet coat" whose hole caused King William's horse to trip, comes to life in modernity and tells his story. A delicate hand makes this extraordinary premise believable and delightful. Recommended.

Jim's Lion, by Russell Hoban, ill. by Ian Andrew, 2001

Bami, Jim's African hospital nurse, understands exactly how frightened Jim feels of his illness, and of surgeries. She invites him to visit his quiet place and meet his finder, a frightening animal that can give him strength and find him and bring him back, should he ever get lost in the darkness that leads to death. A sober and lovely book, with dreamlike illustrations that expressively capture both Jim's hope and his pain. This reader cried. Strongly recommended.

The Game of Sunken Places, by M.T. Anderson, 2004

Gregory Buchanan and Brian Thatz think they're going to spend a leisurely October holiday in Vermont with Gregory's eccentric uncle Max and cousin Prudence in their rambling Victorian mansion. Instead, they find themselves plunged into a game of mythical stakes and origins, in which figures from Nordic legend are their hunters and allies, and a gruesome death awaits any slipup. Their enigmatic host is no help, but behaves suspiciously at every turn. Schoolboy adventure fantasy reminiscent of, and written in tribute to, a lurid style of fiction of yesteryear. Imaginative, a memorable troll and lots of spine-tingling danger. However, a confusing text that galloped too quickly leaving setting fuzzy and too many questions unanswered. Still, for those who throw caution to the wind, recommended.

Whistle for Willie, by Ezra Jack Keats, ill. by the author, 1964

Peter wants to whistle so he can summon his dog, Willie, but blow as he might, nothing comes out but air, until he wears his father's cap . . . Appealing urban illustrations, colorful style and visual design.

Long Night Moon, by Cynthia Rylant, ill. by Mark Siegel, 2004

Following the names given by Native Americans to each month's unique full moon, the text and pictures take readers through a circle of seasons and of nocturnal nature in a lovely bedtime book. Soft, luminous illustrations and poetry celebrate the moon and the creatures of the night. Recommended.

When I Was Young in the Mountains, by Cynthia Rylant, ill. by Diane Goode, 1982

Autobiographical recollections and vignettes from the author's Appalachian childhood paint a loving, nostalgic picture of a rich upbringing despite rural poverty. Muted, affectionate illustrations gently accompany the lyrical text. Strongly recommended.

Puppy Love, by Dick King-Smith, ill. by Anita Jeram, 1997

Nostalgic photo-album-like replay of the author's family's many puppies. Scrumptious illustrations and strong subject-matter appeal subdue the problem of a middle-aged first-person point of view and voice. The illustrations didn't make it clear to me who was speaking until several pages in, which I found disconcerning; I expected one of the three children often featured to be the focal character, and kept trying to figure out which one it was. Not a story but a celebration of puppy charms; kids and dogs lovers will lap it up.

Chicks and Salsa, by Aaron Reynolds, ill. by Paulette Bogan, 2005

The chickens at Nuthatcher Farm are tired of feed, so the rooster, who's been watching the farmer's wife's cooking TV shows, stages a raid of the tomato and onion patches, and whips up salsa, though no one knows where they got the chips. The ducks follow suit with Quackamole, then the pigs make nachos, and soon the barn's raring for a fiesta. Comical illustrations and a farcical plot; a fun premise (shades of Click, Clack, Moo), but the ending lacked that certain je ne sais quoi. Still, recommended.

Leon and Bob, by Simon James (ill. by author), 1997

When Leon's dad goes away with the Army, he and his mother move into a new house in town. He spends his solitude with Bob, a friend no one else can see, who likes listening to Dad's letters and eating breakfast cereal with Leon. But when a new boy moves in next door, Leon's courage and Bob's companionship nearly fail him. Expressive and engaging illustrations complement this sensitive, non-patronizing picture book. We need only two pages to love Leon -- and Bob. The simple ending is a gem -- at once both inevitable and magical. Strongly recommended.