"Centerburg Tales" by Robert McCloskey (1951)

This is the 2^nd of the Homer Price books by Robert McCloskey. The book opens in Centerburg, the town which sits just a couple of miles from Homer’s home at the intersection of two highways. Mr. McCloskey has a way of getting right to the heart of the matter when it comes to children’s things, and he starts off with a chapter called "The Hide –A-Ride".

The kids in town all know and love Grandpa Hercules; whom they call Uncle Herc for short; and he is a big part of their lives as they go about their daily lives. He spins stories while they spin tops, and he manages to infuse all of his tales; true or not; with a bit of local history. In this chapter he spins an unlikely, though wonderful tale about a ride he helped to build for the Indian natives way back when.

That endeavor involved a barrel rolling down hill, which had an intoxicating effect on the Indians, but was bad for the barrels. So, Grandpa Herc invented the Hide-A Ride, which was a mechanized way for the barrel to be spun without destroying it each time. It’s kind of a Rube Goldberg contraption, with a wonderful illustration by the author for the more unimaginative. This story would probably be politically incorrect by today’s standard, illustrating just how “enlightened”; or thin skinned; we have become.

In "Sparrow Courthouse" the author spins the yarn about the time the town of Sparrow got their days and nights mixed up by following the time on the Courthouse clock without question. A stranger passing through realizes that the problem is being caused by the sparrows sitting on the hands of the clock, making time move slower in a sense. By the time the stranger is able to convince the town of the cause, they have been living night by day, and day by night. (This story was written at the beginning of the HUACC hearings and I can’t help but wonder if this is a sly poke at blind loyalty.)

Grandpa Herc has had many experiences, all of which he eagerly shares with the kids of Centerburg. Like the time he went hunting for gold in California. His adventures there with Hopper McThud are so enthralling that at one point Grandpa has the crowd so mesmerized that they are all looking at the luncheonette ceiling as he describes a cliff hundreds of feet in the air. This guy is some story teller!

One day Grandpa gets a package from Gravity-Bitties, a breakfast food for champion jumpers. This cereal is so potent that it comes with a chunk of lead to put inside your coat to keep you from jumping too far. But Grandpa is wiser than all of the advertisements and proves his wisdom by not eating the Gravity-Bitties and jumping far anyway. His point was proving that the advertising people don’t know what they are talking about. Heck, he fed the cereal to the chickens!

From Homers experiments at home to the goings on at the barbershop, these stories are emblematic of what life was like in the years after the Second World War. In so many ways we were at the acme of our strength and influence as a nation. Socially there were still kinks to be worked out in the areas of Civil Rights and poverty, but for the most part these was the best of times. And in Robert McCloskey’s books about Homer Price those times are palpable.

"Rascal" by Sterling North (1964 Newberry Honor Book)

I have reviewed this book here before. I read it for the first time in 5^th grade, and many times since. Mrs. Denslow, the most saintly woman who ever taught a class, was my teacher at the time. She wore her hair in a halo braid around her head, with white blouses that buttoned up to her neck. I only mention it because she reminded me so much of the era in which this book takes place. Mrs. Denslow was born about 1904, and would have been the same age as the author, and so I must have felt like I was getting a peek into her world.

“Rascal” is the story of author Sterling North’s 18 months caring for a raccoon whom he named “Rascal” for all of the mischief he got into. He was abandoned by his mother and adopted by the author, who lived with his father in a Victorian house on the edge of a lake in Wisconsin. His father having been widowed when the author was a boy, made for an adventurous childhood, one which included building a canoe in the parlor, much to the chagrin of Mr. North’s older sister Theo. Although she did not live at home any longer, she felt the need to come and visit, criticizing all that she could.

Mr. North bonds with his new friend and they spend the next year and a half getting to know one another. Eventually, as Rascal matures, he hears the call of another, female raccoon and the author is confronted with a dilemma – should he keep the pet that he loves, or love the pet that needs to be set free?

The story takes place in the closing days of the First World War, which is probably another reason this book has endeared itself to me. Along with classics such as “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn”, “Penrod-His Complete Story”, and many others, this book really takes the reader back to a much simpler time, one which you will want to re-visit again and again.

"The Land of Counterpane" by Robert Louis Stevenson

Whenever I have a nasty cold, or flu, like now, and I am forced to take to bed, I think of this poem by Robert Louis Stevenson. It is no coincidence that he is also one of my favorite childhood authors, having given me such memorable playmates as Long John Silver in "Treasure Island", and David Balfour in "Kidnapped." So, as I've said, it is not unusual for me to pick up that old poetry book my Mom gave me in 1962, "The Golden Book of Poetry", and flip to page 59 to read "The Land of Counterpane." It doesn't have any medicinal value at all, it's more like "Chicken Soup for The Soul."

The gift of a book to a child can be a wonderful thing. Think of it - this book, which was given to me so many years ago, has provided me with solace and comfort so often, that it would be impossible to put a price upon it.

"The Land of Counterpane"

When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay,
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.

Robert Louis Stevenson