A POCKET FOR CORDUROY

The overall-clad stuffed bear who in Corduroy (1968) was unmistakably in need of a shoulder-strap button is put in the position here of overhearing about pockets—the lack of which he hasn't noticed in the absence of a need. To that extent, and in that respect, this new book about Corduroy is less simple, assured, and satisfying than its predecessor. But what happens in the laundromat thereafter, just—horrors!—might. In search of the makings of a pocket, Corduroy crawls into a bag of damp laundry, and, taken for lost, is left behind overnight. He barely escapes a toasting in the dryer, enjoys a soap-flake mountainslide, and winds up "caged" in an empty laundry basket—where he's spotted when his worried girl Lisa returns the next morning. "Why did you wander away?" she asks; and, speaking freely, he tells her. So Corduroy acquires a pocket—where Lisa puts a card with his name. Children who appreciate Corduroy—and know their way around a laundromat—will be acritically pleased, as they should be.