PIGGIES

``I've got two/fat little piggies''—thumb-sized porkers perched, on opposing pages, on the thumbs of a pair of chubby hands, ``two smart/little piggies''—the index fingers are now extended and two more tiny pigs are added, one orating and one with his nose in a book. The long little piggies on the middle fingers are a basketball player and a ballerina; the ring fingers get ``silly'' piggies, the little ones, ``wee'' babies—and, meanwhile, the other pigs continue to cavort. Once the whole crew is established, new circumstances are explored: it's hot or cold, clean or delightfully dirty. Each pig has a character and exploits to follow; the two hands, in the meantime, do childlike things but never meet until the last bedtime page—where fingers and pigs kiss goodnight. Not since King Bidgood's in the Bathtub (1986, Caldecott Honor) has this talented duo produced such a delightfully ebullient extravaganza. These exuberant, plumb little pigs are real charmers. (Picture book. 3-7)