QUENTIN FENTON HERTER III

MacDonald’s (No More Nasty, 2001, etc.) dazzling verse, clever as Scheherazade, is a beautiful choreography of words. Here we have Quentin Fenton Herter Third—wonderfully staid in Potter’s (Shrinking Violet, 2001, etc.) dotty artwork, all puckered puss, spray of freckles, and enough pomade to lube a Bentley—a boy righteous and well-mannered. “He always did what he should ought / and never did what he should not.” But QFH Third has a significant other, his shadow: Quentin Fenton Herter Three, a rude boy who never knew a glass that couldn’t be spilled or an aunt who couldn’t be appalled. “And—sad but true—he never flossed!” Both boys share a longing: to be a little bit like the other, just a splash. Which they get a chance to do when QFH Third commits an unfettered sneeze that fairly blows his aunts from the tea table; he gets his walking papers and QFH Three gets a chance to strut his politesse. It’s all very merry, with the illustrations providing an unending source of enjoyment while the verse positively scoots along: “The scene was like an atom blast. / The ladies stood (like you) aghast / amid remains of their repast.” Not to mention the laughter that readers will shower down upon them. (Picture book. 4-8)