THE TOY BROTHER,<i> By William Steig...

“Stay out of my lab,” medieval alchemist Magnus Bede warns his apprentice son, Yorick, in William Steig’s The Toy Brother. But, of course, the lad can’t resist the lure of that old black magic and before you can say “Orknis-borknis, foofle-kedoofle,” he accidentally shrinks himself to the size of a sausage! Alas, poor Yorick! Alackaday and Gadzooks! Can a happy ending be conjured up? Caldecott medalist Steig has wonderful fun mixing this soupcon of suspense with the medievalisms and sly anachronisms of his text and when you add his wonderfully droll drawings to the formula, it’s obvious that the real alchemist is not Bede but Steig, who effortlessly turns his 26th book for children into solid-gold fun.

Alas also for poor, lonely Aunt Hetta. She’s had no mail for a dog’s age. “I’d better write her a long, long letter,” her sister sighs, “one she will not forget.” Readers won’t forget this sprightly, rhyming, rollicking story by Elizabeth Spurr, either. The cheerful nonsensicalities of The Long, Long Letter are perfectly augmented by David Catrow’s rambunctiously witty watercolor illustrations. Catrow, who doubles as a political cartoonist, is a master of caricature and humorous exaggeration and is quickly emerging as one of the most original talents working in the picture book field.

A gentler spirit informs local author Tony Johnston’s latest book, Fishing Sunday. A Japanese American boy hates the day his grandfather calls “Fishing Sunday,” because he is ashamed of being seen on the fishing boat with his grandfather--ashamed of the old man’s foreignness, of his missing teeth, and--worst--of the fact that he talks to the fish. But the grandfather respects what he catches and, gradually and believably, the boy comes to respect his grandfather, too, to understand that “my grandfather is the sea itself.” Johnston’s language is rich in simile and metaphor and illustrator Barry Root’s watercolor and gouache pictures are equally rich in color and emotional depth. A lovely book.

The introduction to Eve Bunting’s Train to Somewhere tells us that “from the mid-1850s till the late 1920s, an estimated 100,000 homeless children were sent by train from New York City to small towns and farms in the Midwest.” This book is the moving story of 14 such children going west on an orphan train in the year 1878. Bunting does a beautiful job of observing historical reality while writing a moving story that focuses on Marianne, a plain girl who will be the last to be chosen for adoption. Ronald Himler’s watercolor and gouache illustrations are not only wonderfully evocative of another time but are emotionally affecting without being sentimental.