Mrs. O'Leary's Cow Has a Bad Attitude

I'm a lifelong fan of folk music, so I'm familiar with a lot of old campfire tunes and legends put to rhyme and passed down through the years. But I don't recall that I ever heard of Mrs. O'Leary's cow, the subject of a book by acclaimed children's poet Mary Ann Hoberman. When I read on the jacket of Mrs. O'Leary's Cow that it had been adapted from a popular song, I sought out the song, and it looks like Hoberman wrote the bulk of the book, using just the opening verse as a jumping-off point.

For those as unfamiliar as I was, Mrs. O'Leary's Cow is the alleged cause of the Great Chicago Fire in the late 1800s that killed more than 100 people and left thousands without homes. The song contends that the cow kicked over a lantern left in the barn, and that's how the trouble all began. There's a hint of malice in the wording, as the cow "winked her eye and said, 'There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight!'"

Hoberman matches the cadence of this verse well in the ensuing pages as various members of the community react to the cow's predicament, with the fire department eventually coming to her rescue. There's no indication in the book of where this is taking place; it seems like a rural area with few houses, not the sort of place where a blaze would be likely to devastate thousands. Hoberman's book has nothing to do with the Great Chicago Fire. Instead, the entire focus of the book is rescuing the cow from the predicament of her own making.

Jenny Matheson's bold oil paintings convey the urgency of the situation, with lots of concerned faces peering out from the pages, wondering if a rescue is possible. My favorite illustration shows the ten firemen working together to get the cow off the roof, though it's rather inexplicable how she gets up there in the first place. The book doesn't go into the mechanics of her getting from the floor of the barn to the roof; readers are simply expected to accept that she manages it somehow. But if she can get up to the roof, why can't she just jump out the window to safety?

Throughout the book, printed in bold, black letters, is some variation on "There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight!" The book concludes as it began, with the cow winking as she reflects on the "hot time" she's made. In the context of the Great Chicago Fire, this seems very distasteful, but even lifted out of that context entirely, the cow doesn't seem to have any regrets for what has happened. Indeed, there's still the sense that she may have done it intentionally, just because she wanted to be the center of attention. If that was her desire, she got her wish, since the whole community rallies around her, and she winds up tucked into bed inside the O'Leary household, as cozy as a cow could ever be. Never mind that the barn burned down and that, if the firefighters hadn't gotten there as quickly as they did, the house could have gone up in flames as well.

Thus, while Mrs. O'Leary's Cow is a creative riff on an old folk song, it doesn't quite sit right with me. It seems to send the message that if you want people to pay attention to you, you should make some mischief, and this hardly seems like a very positive message to send, especially when the mischief is this dangerous.

Mary Ann Hoberman Branches Off Into Fiction With Strawberry Hill

"Do you remember the taste of strawberries?" asks Sam Gamgee in the film version of The Return of the King, hoping to rouse his exhausted companion from the depths of despair. As someone who has found great delight in picking strawberries and who invariably opts for a strawberry sundae when we go out for ice cream, I understand the connection those bright red berries have with thoughts of serenity and joy.

It's the same connection 10-year-old Allie feels in Strawberry Hill when her parents tell her that they will be living in a house on Strawberry Hill when they move from New Haven to Stamford. It's the Depression. Jobs are scarce, and her father has been living there for some time; now they are able to join him. Unfortunately, that means leaving behind friends and familiar surroundings. Forlorn Allie clings fiercely to the shining vision of a field full of strawberries. Reality doesn't quite measure up to her dreams, but that is an important first step in a long lesson about not relying too heavily upon first impressions.

Strawberry Hill was written by Mary Ann Hoberman, who has been penning children's poetry for decades, to much acclaim. In fact, she was named the second children's poet laureate last year. She has published many picture books, but this middle-grade book is her first novel and was inspired by her own growing-up years. The Depression-era setting makes it a novel of historical interest for youngsters, while it is especially timely because of the current Recession, reminding me of the Kit Kittredge movie that American Girl released last year.

While that film focuses on the time during which the young protagonist's father is away, searching for work out of town, Allie, having already experienced such a separation, now has a fairly normal, stable home life. However, one of her friends has a dad who visits only occasionally, while another friend hasn't seen her father in months. Another starts up a paper route in order to help his mother pay the bills. Hints of the difficult times are everywhere, with the most blatant example being the hobo who knocks on Allie's door, looking for a meal.

Aside from the backdrop of the Depression, there are other indications of the times. Allie uses coal from a neighbor's oven to draw a hopscotch board on her driveway. She plays with paper dolls, and she wears dresses. Hoberman doesn't specify the year in which this takes place, but with references to Shirley Temple and Mary Poppins, it must be sometime in the mid- to late 1930s. It's interesting to note the differences and similarities between Allie and modern children; I was struck by how often I forgot that this was not set in contemporary times. So many of the same things are present, from cars to pop, and Allie behaves pretty much the way I would expect a current-day child to behave in her situation. The fact that the country is in the midst of economic troubles again makes the story even more relatable. The main difference is that the children find ways of amusing themselves without the help of technology.

Allie is a kind, imaginative girl who has an especially close bond with her sweet little brother Danny. She sometimes comes across as rather whiny, and although she is the victim of prejudice, she has a few prejudices of her own. She reminds me a bit of Anne from Anne of Green Gables in that she is very hung up on the notion of a bosom friend and has very clear ideas about what qualities this mystical person should have. Her new home presents her with many opportunities for friendships, but none are without complications.

Her neighbor Martha, who is Catholic and attends private school, is pretty and fairly well-off. She has a warm, welcoming mother, and she's the first person Allie meets upon her arrival. But Martha also has a mean streak, and her best friend can be flat-out nasty, at one point directing a religiously motivated epithet at the Jewish Allie. Mimi, another neighbor, is Jewish and attends the same school as Allie does. Her mother is lazy and sarcastic, and Mimi is overweight and clingy. But she's unfailingly considerate and appreciative of the time Allie spends with her, and Danny adores her. At school, Allie meets Allie M., who is quiet and kind, and Dan, who develops a crush on her. But neither lives nearby, so after-school association with them is limited. I do think that Allie is too focused on the idea of having one friend to whom she is closer than all others; her obsession with exclusivity certainly causes problems. But her revelations about the nature of true friendship are worthwhile and applicable to modern children.

Strawberry Hill contains 44 short, unnamed chapters and features lovely pencil drawings by Wendy Anderson Halperin. I would recommend it to children, particularly around the ages of 9 to 12, who are interested in history or who have recently moved, or will soon move. It's an engaging tale, and its lessons about friendship and making the best of a disappointing situation are relevant and helpful. If Hoberman decides to write another novel, you can count me in.