Zoo duck Quackenstein longs for a family. He cares for an abandoned egg, and out pops what looks to him like a scary monster (actually a platypus). Quackenstein's grumpiness is a novelty in a book with a warm-and-fuzzy theme. Bardhan-Quallen's rhymes march in lockstep--think Dr. Seuss starring Oscar the Grouch--while Jones expertly juggles the book's tender, humorous, and spooky elements.

"In the darkest corner of the zoo / There stood a gloomy shack. / A nearby scrawl / Read: KEEP OUT ALL!! / JUST LEAVE ME BE! Signed QUACK.' " The misanthropic duck is crabby because he alone has no family, so when he sees a clutch of "ORPHANED EGGS: HOMES NEEDED," he decides to adopt. But what he hatches ("IT'S ALIVE!" he gloats) is no duck, and the panicked fowl takes off through a dark and stormy night, pursued by his mutant hatchling. Jones gleefully uses every cliche in the book, from lurid lettering and backgrounds to effective use of silhouettes and shadows. Bardhan-Quallen, too, takes advantage of horror-movie tropes, but she also mixes in some instruction in the form of cumulative nouns for animals. The surprise twist at the end happily resolves Quack's fatherless state. (Picture book. 5-8)

K-Gr 2 Quack the duck is grumpy. All the other animals in the zoo have someone to love and snuggle with, but Quack is alone. It doesn't seem to occur to him that the signs on his shack, "KEEP OUT ALL!! JUST LEAVE ME BE!" might account in part for his solitary status. One day he comes upon a basket of eggs with a sign that reads,"ORPHANED EGGS/HOMES NEEDED" and he decides to adopt one. He eagerly awaits its hatching, but when it does, he is horrified. What emerges is not the fuzzy duckling he had hoped for, but a red-eyed, sharp-clawed "monster." Quack runs away in terror, the "monster" in hot pursuit. Eventually it corners Quack in a cave and he fears the worst. When the monster says, "Hello, Dad," Quack's heart melts, and he and his sona platypuswalk off, wing in paw. The idea that prospective adoptive parents would not only abandon, but would also be horrified when the child is not what they expect, or has a birth defect, creates a potentially hurtful scenario. The acrylic illustrations with touches of Photoshop feature murky blues and purples and are not likely to have a great deal of child appeal. Keiko Kaza's A Mother for Choco (Putnam, 1992) is an excellent antidote for the message this book sends.— Grace Oliff, Ann Blanche Smith School, Hillsdale, NJ