PreS-Gr 2 There is nothing as satisfying as a job well done, and this ogre is beyond satisfied. In fact, he doesn't have to do anything anymore to scare the villagers. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, he goes about his business of snacking on them whenever the mood strikes him. Until one day, that is, when he comes upon a beautiful girl in the forest, and she is not afraid of him in the slightest. She sees beyond his odor and hideous face and assumes he is a good person at heart. She offers him tea and muffins and extends every kindness that she can think of. Thrown off guard, the ogre tries every trick he knows to frighten her but nothing will rattle this optimistic young girl. The befuddled and frustrated ogre tromps off through the forest and, well, the odious ogre is no more. Juster's language and imagery are playful throughout. For example, he describes the villagers' unsuccessful attempt at hiding from the ogre by noting that they "stuffed their ears with stale cake." What child won't chuckle at that image? Later, the ogre complains that the girl is not "the docile dumpling he expected." The ogre is correct; she is no docile dumpling. Feiffer's loose, colorful sketches are as cartoony as this over-the-top story demands. The text is a bit long for storyhour but the clever repartee and fun illustrations make up for that in spades.— Joan Kindig, James Madison University, Harrisonburg, VA

Juster and Feiffer, the legendary team behind The Phantom Tollbooth (1961), join forces again, this time for a hairline-fractured-fairy-tale picture book. A terrible ogre is used to the status quo of being hysterically feared and gobbling up people whenever it fancies him. So you can imagine how surprised and upset the marauding giant is to encounter a young girl who hasn't ever heard of him, isn't the least bit scared of him, and invites him to tea. The ogre demurs. I can't be liked. It's bad for business! Juster's easygoing narrative displays a charming, kid-friendly sense of humor and the know-how to skewer conventions. Feiffer's scrawly watercolor compositions dominate the pages (and are themselves dominated by the lumbering ogre). They look terrific even from a distance, making this a natural read-aloud. The double-page spread of the ogre reasserting his bellowing, stomping, blustering, grimacing, twitching, snorting, belching, clawing, and drooling persona is a guaranteed giggler, and the girl's reaction to his histrionics is a fine example of how to kill 'em with kindness.

An ogre meets his match in a fearless girl who treats him as an honored visitor and offers some sensible advice: "I'll bet if you brushed your teeth...[and] changed your attitude you'd be quite nice." Feiffer draws the girl with a delicate pen and limns the clumsy oaf in broad strokes. Word-maven Juster employs the ogre's "impressive vocabulary" to colorful advantage.

Move over, Shrek, there's a new ogre in the picture-book section. This one is indeed odious—also violent, carnivorous and just generally unpleasant. He rampages through the countryside, terrorizing (and eating) the residents with impunity. Until, that is, he is utterly "confounded, overcome, and undone" by the unexpected kindness and friendly advice of a young woman who isn't cowed by his terrible reputation and repulsive appearance. Literally, if unintentionally, killed with kindness, once he turns up his toes the previously intimidated populace immediately downplays his malevolence and thus the girl's achievement. She doesn't care, though; she's too busy leading her life the way she thinks she should. Kids might not pick up on all of the philosophical overtones, but they're sure to enjoy Juster's rich wordplay and happily ridiculous story and Feiffer's wonderfully scratchy and energetic watercolors of the greedy ogre, the terrified townspeople and the utterly pleasant and otherwise unremarkable heroine. A delicious morsel with which to whet the palate for other works by these giants of children's literature. (Picture book. 6 & up)

After a nearly 50-year wait, Juster%E2%80%99s reunion with his Phantom Tollbooth collaborator Feiffer is squarely in keeping with their earlier fairy tale drollery. Feiffer%E2%80%99s ogre, scrawled in scribbly brown outline, snores on his back in a forest of Lilliputian trees in one spread, then strides off in search of a snack in the next. (Feiffer often draws him from the boots up, the better to convey his massive size.) The ogre%E2%80%99s victims usually cower hopelessly before him, but this time, the specimen he encounters%E2%80%94a slim, wide-eyed young woman in a long blue dress%E2%80%94undoes him with kindness. %E2%80%9COh, you%E2%80%99re not really so terrible,%E2%80%9D she says sweetly. %E2%80%9CI%E2%80%99ll bet if you brushed your teeth, combed your hair, found some new clothes, and totally changed your attitude you%E2%80%99d be quite nice.%E2%80%9D The ogre%E2%80%99s mighty tantrum shakes the forest, but she remains calm. %E2%80%9CWould you consider doing that for the orphans%E2%80%99 picnic next week? I know the children would love it.%E2%80%9D The ogre%E2%80%99s speedy exit%E2%80%94he drops dead%E2%80%94is a bit of a throwaway, but Juster%E2%80%99s narrative insouciance and Feiffer%E2%80%99s pen and brush haven%E2%80%99t lost their magic. All ages. (Sept.)