One of my favorite oddities is Chris Raschka's Arlene Sardine.

Yes that's a nice one, thanks Ed!

There is something special about old children's books, which I peruse lovingly, at specialty stores. My niece recently sent me some volumes of the "My Book House" series, which were handed down to me from my sister, then t her daughter, now back to me. One of my favorite volumes. was "Through Fairy Halls." I curl up with it on cold, Winter nights.

I’d like to preface this post by acknowledging that, while many of the children’s books written about on this blog were published in the current century (with the exception of Amy’s Eyes and Mouse Bird Snake Wolf), a story I would consider to be particularly praiseworthy is Nathaniel Hawthorne’s 1830’s short story, Little Annie’s Ramble. Because Little Annie’s Ramble is able to capture children’s interest and parents’ interest in such disparate ways, and may make contrasting impressions upon the two, it qualifies as an odd, but well-crafted and enjoyable children’s book. An unlikely choice to be sure – Hawthorne is not generally associated with lighthearted children’s stories, and has a reputation that leans more towards bleak morbidity than levity and cheer. This isn’t entirely surprising, since his most famous work, The Scarlet Letter, discusses a woman that was shunned from Puritan society and forced to raise her bastard child on the outskirts of society. But, Little Annie’s Ramble is entirely different. I consider it on two separate levels of understanding – the children’s level of cognizance and the parents’ level. To begin with the children’s level of understanding, Little Annie’s Ramble is a reflection upon the joy and innocence of childhood. It is a brief story about a curious young girl. The tale is sure to pique children’s interest because it constantly relates back to the senses. Especially when it is being read aloud, children are aware of the sounds, sights, tastes, smells, and feelings described. For instance, Hawthorne chooses to start out with “DING-DONG! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!,” the sound of a bell. “…An elephant, and a lion, and a royal tiger, and a horse with horns, and other strange beasts from foreign countries, have come to town,” the town crier announces (1). The child reader can almost hear the crier shouting about the animals in the town center and see the exotic creatures parading around. Little Annie heads out on a walk with the narrator to the town center. They pass by the confectioner’s, and the description of the sweets in the window would make even the pickiest child’s mouth water: “…those pies, with such white and flaky paste, their contents being a mystery, whether rich mince, with whole plums intermixed, or piquant apple, delicately rose-flavored; those cakes, heart-shaped or round, piled in a lofty pyramid; those sweet little circlets, sweetly named kisses; those dark majestic masses, fit to be bridal loaves at the wedding of an heiress, mountains in size, their summits deeply snow-covered with sugar” (2). The music of the organ-grinder catches Annie’s attention, too. Her “…feet begin to move in unison with the lively tune,” indicating her enjoyment (2). Consider reading this to your child at night, while you are tucking her into her bed. The thought of music might cause her to bounce her feet or hum a little tune, just as the thought of the exotic animals or the sugary pastries might excite her. On the other hand, think about this tale from your own point of view as a parent. As a mother or a father, part of the story should be seen as a learning lesson for children; Annie wanders off with this strange man, whom she presumably knows. As a parent, this would make me extraordinarily nervous to hear. We don’t understand until the end that Annie’s family is unaware of her companion. “Strayed from her home, a LITTLE GIRL, of five years old, in a blue frock and white pantalettes, with brown curling hair and hazel eyes. Whoever will bring her back to her afflicted mother—” says the town crier on the last page of the short story. It is then that we realize (with parental concern) that the narrator had not informed Annie’s mother of their walk. Take this as a moment through which you can teach your children the perils of walking off with a stranger. Although Hawthorne’s short story indicates that Annie enjoyed her walk and was not in any danger, the 1830’s were very different than 2013 is; the outcome of the story could have been drastically different today. Little Annie’s Ramble gives us such an innocent notion of childhood bravery. While the pair walks to the town center, they turn the corner and confront a busy street full of horses and carriages and trucks and carts. “Is not little Annie afraid of such a tumult? No; she does not even shrink closer to my side, but passes on with fearless confidence,” says the narrator (1). This is a perfect example of childish unawareness. Most young children have no ability to comprehend danger. As a result, they usually do not react to crowds by clutching their parents’ hands or panicking. Hawthorne does a wonderful job of displaying childlike behaviors in this piece – as such, it is important to use these examples of certain behaviors as teaching moments, and talk with our children about the appropriate ways to behave in certain (potentially dangerous) situations. Although it is easy to pass over these teaching opportunities by looking at Little Annie’s Ramble as a simple, old-fashioned children’s short story, recognize the wisdom behind the text. Even though your children may only enjoy this odd story for its lively imagery and storyline, use Little Annie’s Ramble as an entrance to talking to them about real-life scenarios they may encounter.

Cool post. I definitely want to read the one about the smuggled-in third penguin.