The Green Bath by Margaret Mahy (review)

While it was a pea-green boat that carried Lear's "The Owl and the Pussycat," it's a giant, boxy, pea-green claw-foot bathtub that carries the protagonist in this fanciful picture-book tale. When young Sammy grudgingly gets into the tub (a new flea-market purchase), the bath springs into life, bounding across the yard and towards the ocean, taking Sammy along for the ride. The two meet mermaids, a friendly sea serpent, and a boatload of pirates who are quite taken with the porcelain implement and would like to have it for themselves. The boy and bath defend themselves valiantly with a barrage of bubbles, though, managing to make it home safely with a treasure chest filled with loot. Mahy has delivered a charming tale that hangs on the edge of reality (Sammy actually has gold in tow when his mom barges in, but did that bathtub really giggle when the water goes down the drain?), and her text reaches that level of alliteration that's delightful rather than tiresome, rolling off the tongue smoothly as the tale unfolds ("The buccaneers had swords, but Sammy bewildered them with bubbles and baffled them with soapsuds"). The illustrations, which alternate between full-spread/full-bleed scenes and panel art, are classic Kellogg—the sea serpent is reminiscent of Jerry and Jimmy's boa in The Day Jimmy's Boa Ate the Wash—and they're often strongly tinted with green from the delicately lined sea. The tub sports a cheerful grin under huge round eyes, making it a friendly companion for such swashbuckling adventures. Pull this one out for a storytime about bathtime adventures—just don't forget the soap.