The Celestial Bodies Are Beautiful, But the Real Stars Here Are Mr. Putter and Tabby

The first hints of winter are in the air here in Erie, Pennsylvania. As the weather grows chillier, I grow more inclined to hunker down under a fleece blanket, bundled up in robes given to me by my grandparents, who, like the titular characters in Mr. Putter and Tabby See the Stars, appreciate the value of a good snooze. They also love to sit out and stare up at the stars from around a crackling fire at the camp they visit each summer, so I think of them as I read this latest tale in Cynthia Rylant's charming series about an amiable, elderly bachelor and his creaky, devoted cat, who spring to endearing life through the squiggly illustrations of Arthur Howard.

While Mr. Putter and Tabby's lives are generally serene, they occasionally run into comical complications, often because of kindly Mrs. Teaberry, who lives next door with her dog Zeke. Like my grandma, she dotes on her dog and delights in preparing tasty treats for visitors. Most often, Mrs. Teaberry's visitors are Mr. Putter and Tabby, who enjoy the neighborly company and the delectable delicacies. But on this particular occasion, Mr. Putter lets his fondness for her pineapple jelly rolls get the better of him, leaving him with a nasty case of indigestion-induced insomnia. But rather than add his grumbling to that of his stomach, he takes the inconvenience as an invitation. It's a perfect night for a star-gazing stroll.

Like the other books in this series, Mr. Putter and Tabby See the Stars is divided into three sections. In this case, the first two sections, entitled Logs and Grumble, are extremely short in comparison with the third, Stars, in which most of the action is contained. They provide some basic background, but the duo's nocturnal perambulation doesn't occur until Stars. The only real conflict in the story is the upset stomach, which is a source of mild annoyance rather than anguish, so this is one of the most sedate installments in the series, but that just makes it especially ideal for bedtime reading, perhaps during a campout when stars are likely to be in full view.

As always, Howard's pictures are wonderfully whimsical, perfectly complementing Rylant's short but artful sentences, like these: "Mr. Putter plumped his pillow. Tabby squished hers. And then they slept like logs. But one night, one of the logs could not sleep." While I love the details in the characters' facial expressions, I think my favorite picture in this book is the one in which Mr. Putter and Tabby, their backs to the reader, gaze up at the Big Dipper from beneath a gently drooping tree. It's a lovely image, full of fanciful possibilities, to which the text alludes.

Whether or not they have previously encountered pudgy, pleasant Mr. Putter, with his overlarge glasses, bristly mustache and childlike expressions, and orange-and-white Tabby, with her twitchy tail and contented grin, children could scarcely wish on a star for a more quietly gentle tale.