Arabella Anastasia is definitely not an ordinary girl. And Indescribably Arabella isn’t an ordinary book, either.

Like the Arabella of the title, author/illustrator Jane Gilbert had many dreams as a girl. She loved dancing, acting, poems and stories. And, of course, movie stars. In 1947, after rereading her childhood diaries, Gilbert was inspired to write and illustrate a book about a girl called Arabella Anastasia, named after her own rag doll.

Because of paper shortages during the Korean War, her book was never published. Gilbert set the project aside for 50 years then showed it to a writer friend. Eventually the story landed on the desk of Anne Schwartz, an editor at Atheneum Books for Young Readers. She loved it. And there’s a lot to love in this delightful, nostalgic story. The text is hand-lettered in an old-fashioned script. The gouache illustrations are simple and charming. But it’s Arabella herself who steals the limelight. For Arabella is a far cry from today’s cookie-cutter Disney heroines. She has personality! With her plump thighs, tiny feet and enormous hair bows, she’s sure to delight readers young and old.

The story begins on the day Arabella Anastasia decides to be famous. To start, she sets her sights on becoming a famous painter. But her colors run together and her lines go crooked. Arabella must choose another path to fame. So she decides to be an actress. Unfortunately, she has a few problems remembering her lines, to say nothing of her late entrances. Next, she takes up ballet. With her last few pennies she buys her tutu and dancing slippers. Alas, poor Arabella. The "people in the Big Offices" just laugh at her short legs. Fortunately, in the end, Arabella finds that while her gifts may not bring her fame, they can bring her satisfaction. Even more important, they can bring happiness to others. This simple, endearing story has a happy ending in more ways than one. When author Gilbert, now in her 80s, first saw a copy of the finished book, she cried with joy.

Deborah Hopkinson’s newest book, Girl Wonder, A Baseball Story in Nine Innings, was recently recognized with a 2003 Parents Choice Gold Award.

Plum is a peach of a poetry collection, a thoroughly engaging potpourri set off by magnificently rich illustrations. Everyone including very young children, older elementary students, even adults will find words to savor here. The pieces range from short ditties to longer story-poems and cover a broad range of topics. A simple poem called "flightpath" is a perfect starter poem for preschoolers. It reads: "The reason why the fly annoys me, as it does, is that, however hard I try, I can’t ignore its BUZZ." The illustration shows a wacky dog, obviously driven bug-eyed by the pest, with the text zigzagging its way across his forehead, representing the fly’s zooming path. Artist Mary GrandPré is best known for illustrating the U.S. editions of the Harry Potter books. Several spreads invoke the magical qualities of Harry Potter, but others, like the one showing the Queen of England and the president of Zarnia in a long romp of a poem called "Mrs. Bhattacharya’s Chapati Machine," display her talent for zany action and expression.

"Mrs. Rummage’s Muddle-Up Shop," a longer poem, tells about a girl who wants a lollipop in a crazy shop belonging to a very mixed-up lady. The shopkeeper can’t find the confection, which is all the while sticking in her hair, so she tears apart her store in a frenzied search. The mood reminds me of Willy Wonka &and the Chocolate Factory, and once again, the illustrations bring all of the fun to a fever pitch. A simple page of notes at the back of the book provides a wealth of information about various poems. Plum ends on a serenely sweet note, with a graceful poem called "Instructions for Growing Poetry," which begins, "Shut your eyes. Open your mind. Look inside. What do you find?" and ends, "Now those little words are sprouting poetry inside your head." Plum is a richly ripe book just waiting to be picked and added to any child’s library.

Alice Cary writes from Groton, Massachusetts.

Children’s author Shana Corey was inspired to research the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League that was founded during World War II after she saw the movie A League of Their Own. To deliver this tale to young readers, she created a fictitious character named Katie Casey a name borrowed from the original lyrics to the classic song, "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" who is the star of Players in Pigtails, a super new picture book combining a good story with wonderful illustrations and a well-told, exciting little history lesson.

Players in Pigtails offers an unusual heroine: "Katie Casey wasn’t good at being a girl . . . at least not the kind of girl everyone thought she should be. Her clothing was crumpled. Her knitting was knotted. Her dancing was a disaster." Of course, the thing that Katie lives for is baseball, and she becomes the hero of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, created by Chicago Cubs owner Phillip Wrigley when many male professional players were off fighting in World War II. Corey tells the story simply, so little readers can understand the details. Older readers will be dismayed by the many prejudices that existed against women athletes during the World War II era. "What good is baseball to a girl?" newspaper headlines read at one point. But the story concludes with a grand-slam home run by Katie, and a cheering crowd "all too busy talking about how good GIRLS were for baseball."

Corey, who also wrote Milly and the Macy’s Parade, rounds out the book with an essay about the league and its history. Rebecca Gibbon’s watercolor and colored pencil illustrations are lively and fun, presenting historically accurate details while still managing to look modern. We see posters with war references, and the clothing styles of the day are on display. This creative duo has produced a story that will inspire and enlighten both young girls and boys. A winning team, indeed!

Verla Kay (Gold Fever and Iron Horses) writes many of her books in what she calls "cryptic rhyme," which is her definition for stories composed in a sort of fill-in-the-gap verse, with lots of room for interpretation. There is little exposition and plenty of action, which, in the case of her new book, <B>Homespun Sarah</B>, is a good thing, since the story is all about getting a new dress.

Nah, it’s about much more than that. An author’s note details the hardships of life in early 1700s Pennsylvania, when children often slept in front of the fireplace, ate meals standing up, and worked alongside their parents to make almost everything they needed to survive, including their clothing: "A girl would wear her only dress every day for as long as it fit even if it was a year or more."

Enter Sarah and the days of quilts and candlelight, water buckets and wood boxes, cornmeal cakes and washtubs. Sarah tends the baby, dips candles, gathers berries . . . and grows up her ankles show beneath the hem of her dress, and the bodice will no longer lace as it should. What’s a girl to do? Father shears a sheep, the wool turns into linsey woolsey on the loom, then, "Homespun fabric/Measure, clip/Needles swing/Scissors snip." Mama measures and sews with Sarah, little sister grins as she becomes the proud owner of Sarah’s old dress, and "Spinning, twirling/Dancing toes/Homespun Sarah/All new clothes!" It’s a simple story that lends itself to conversation and education. What was it like to live with so little and work so much? What does it mean to live simply? Some of these questions are answered in Ted Rand’s watercolors, where we see little sister carrying wood, father furrowing the field, and mother cooking over the stove. Rand’s use of small details adds an emotional element the baby is always tethered, literally, to something (or someone) for safety, and the cow’s tail continually slaps brother on the head while he is milking. <B>Homespun Sarah</B> is a luminous little story about times gone by and the elemental necessities of living that today we take for granted.

Oh, I am so lucky I am reading a book by William Steig! I am in the hands of the master! I open the book and prepare to get lost in another world, another time, another place . . . and this story doesn’t disappoint. When Everybody Wore a Hat is a picture-book memoir, and it’s steady, snappy, snazzy and swell.

Whether he is writing about a donkey and a magic pebble or a monster who finds his one true love, Steig always succeeds in tapping into universal feelings of wanting to belong and to create community. In When Everybody Wore a Hat, he writes simply about his immigrant family in 1916, when he was 8 years old, growing up in the Bronx: "This is the story of when I was a boy, almost 100 years ago, when fire engines were pulled by horses, boys did not play with girls, kids went to libraries for books, there was no TV, you could see a movie for a nickel, and everybody wore a hat." He writes about everyday things: "We used to go shopping with Mom all the time. We went along to carry stuff." He writes about world events: "we all knew there was a big war going on in Europe." He writes with the trademark Steig humor: "Everyone wanted his picture on a horse . . . Cameras were very big then, and you had to stay very still. This was hard for the horse."

Drawn in that wonderfully wacky, child-friendly, slightly screwball style that give Steig’s New Yorker drawings such distinction, the illustrations add another layer of depth and richness. When he writes, "Mom said Esther Haberman had a big mouth," well, we see it, quite literally.

The book is beautifully structured as well, beginning with a photo of Steig as a boy and ending with a photo of him today. What a treat to be invited into this beloved author’s boyhood, to sink into that experience, to belong for a little while to Steig’s family, which is, of course, an extension of our larger family, our community, our world. When Everybody Wore a Hat is another tale to add to our collective memory.

Deborah Wiles writes from Frederick, Maryland.

The young narrator of The Perfect Puppy for Me! begins by saying: "I love dogs. I have posters of dogs all over my room, books and videos about dogs, a hat with floppy dog ears and a clock that barks every hour. The only thing I don’t have is a dog." The good news is that the unnamed narrator is going to get a pooch for his birthday; he simply needs to decide which type is best for him. Thus begins a colorful investigation of various breeds, a survey he takes by describing several neighborhood specimens, such as Duke, the German shepherd, Poker, the basset hound, Danish, the Great Dane, and Goulash, the mongrel.

Packed with plenty of information, this fun book is perfect for youngsters longing for some canine companionship. The narrator explains a few of the pros and cons of various breeds as the book progresses. What’s more, each page has additional illustrations and informational tidbits (dogs don’t sweat, they sleep about 16 hours a day, and chocolate, for them, is like poison.) Jessie Hartland’s illustrations provide just the right light-hearted accompaniment to the text. Her artwork has appeared in Target stores, Bloomingdale’s window displays and on murals at a Japanese amusement park, and here she has created a hip, energetic mood, with small tail-wagging critters and captions surrounding the main text (one sidebar provides an explanation of what moods various doggy tail positions indicate).

In the end, the perfect puppy is found. Our narrator picks a mixed breed that he dubs a "Labradoodle," a combination of Claudine, the poodle, and Jackpot, the yellow Labrador, he met earlier in the book. He names his new charge Doodle. The Perfect Puppy for Me! is an enjoyable romp through the animal world for young and old readers alike. Finding the perfect pet is never easy, but this doggone good story, with its wealth of information, can help with the quest.

Alice Cary writes from Groton, Massachusetts.

Pirican Pic and Pirican Mor is a retelling of a Scottish folktale, a charming story about sharing, quarrels and forgiveness that kids are sure to enjoy. The title refers to the names of two boys who are at first happily engaged in a partnership: one is perched high in a tree picking walnuts, while the other is on the ground, cracking the nuts open and popping them in his mouth. All goes well until one comes down from the tree and realizes the other has eaten all of the nuts.

Thus begins a cumulative rhyme perfect for reading aloud in the manner of "The House that Jack Built." This rhyme begins with Pirican Mor announcing: "I need a stick both hard and straight/To whack and thwack poor Pirican Pic/Who ate all of my walnuts!" Each time Pirican Mor tries to accomplish one task, he is diverted and sent on yet another. For instance, he tells the tree he needs a stick, and the tree replies that he needs an axe. Once he finds an axe, however, he is told he needs a sharpening stone, and so on. Pirican Mor doggedly pursues each and every goal that comes his way, and young readers will no doubt enjoy the building anticipation of his eventual mission: namely, the whacking and thwacking. But if, like me, you fret about the prospect of violence, lay your fears to rest. Happily, it never comes to pass. Yes, Pirican Mor eventually overcomes his obstacles and returns to the scene with his stick, ready to reap revenge. Pirican Pic, however, has long since departed, but a pile of cracked walnuts sits ready to be eaten. This little snack diverts Pirican Mor from his mission, and all ends well.

Lupton’s ongoing rhyme is enlivened by a variety of typefaces, in addition to Yumi Heo’s snazzy oil illustrations, which are done in a primitive, yet contemporary two-dimensional style. Her muted colors and innovative perspectives make for eye-appealing action on every page. Pirican Pic and Pirican Mor are indeed a lively pair, a duo that will bring smiles to young readers time after time.

Ruler of the Courtyard is a riveting tale about confronting and ultimately overcoming fears, a universal theme for young readers. Refreshingly enough, this is truly a book about facing terror. It’s not the kind of timid picture book that focuses on preschool nervousness or a case of the jitters.

Sabo, the book’s young heroine, lives in what seems to be a hot, foreign country, most likely the native Pakistan of author Rukhsana Kahn. Sabo explains that she has always been afraid of chickens "They’ve been the very terror of my life." Every day she must confront them, however, and on this day she darts from her home to the nearby bathhouse. Sabo makes a wild run across the yard and slams the bathhouse door in the face of those terrifying cluckers, then leisurely washes her hair. Eventually, however, she notices a snake in the corner, right by the door, her only escape route. Paralyzed with fright, she contemplates killing the snake, then decides to trap it instead, using her bucket. Finally, after many terrifying moments, she succeeds. Next, she realizes that she hasn’t captured a snake at all. Instead, she has trapped her grandmother’s belt, which lay coiled in the corner. Once Sabo realizes the silliness of her error and terror she begins to laugh. Released from her fear of chickens, she returns to the courtyard and roars at them, proclaiming, "I AM MIGHTY SABO! RULER OF THE COURTYARD!"

R. Gregory Christie’s illustrations heighten every element of the story. Each page is framed by a background of hot oranges, yellows and reds, the color of heat and desert. The chickens are black and white splotches that convey movement, while the "snake" is appropriately coiled and colorful.

This visit to Sabo’s world is an interesting excursion to foreign soil. Readers may also enjoy more books by Rukhsana Khan, such as Muslim Child: Understanding Islam through Stories and Poems. Her latest offering is a book with which every young child can identify.

Alice Cary writes from Groton, Massachusetts.

History has layers, like an onion: peel one off, and you suddenly have a slightly different perspective. Teaching young people about events in the past that shaped our world requires the exploration of various layers simply recounting an event isn’t enough. Jim Murphy’s <B>Inside the Alamo</B> does just that, going well beyond the average junior high textbook explanation of events that had broader implications for this country than were immediately obvious.

In the 1830s, the United States was straining at its boundaries. All but two of the 24 states were east of the Mississippi River, and people were flocking to the territories beyond. South and west, towards the Rio Grande, was an area claimed by Mexico, but under-populated at least until Americans began to immigrate. The expansion was rapid, and within a few years Americans outnumbered the Mexican residents of the area, thus setting in motion the events that culminated at the Alamo.

Murphy’s book opens with the arrival of the army of Mexican general Santa Anna at the outskirts of the Alamo as he lays siege to its small band of defenders. Murphy details the personalities inside and outside the Alamo walls, the events that brought them there, and as the final battle begins, their eventual fates. He covers the major players: David Crockett, Jim Bowie and William Travis, all of whom died defending the fort, as well as Santa Anna, the general who was also Mexico’s dictator, and Sam Houston, who would eventually defeat Santa Anna through a combination of luck and hubris. Murphy doesn’t neglect the lesser-known actors in this drama either, from the woman who nursed Bowie to the black man who was Travis’ slave. Thanks to these details, a full-bodied profile of the battle and its participants emerges.

Murphy’s book is a treasure trove of illustrations, diagrams, maps and photos, and his direct prose is enlightening and entertaining. <B>Inside the Alamo</B> is a children’s book that adult history buffs will enjoy even those who aren’t from Texas.