And because of that girth, he thought rather highly of the shadow itself. There are a medley of reasons why Goober could be special, but it ends up the thing he's most proud of is the wide girth of his shadow. But that wasn't why Goober thought he was special. Goober lived on an island with a moat around it. All the other animals lived in cages or behind bars. Goober was an elephant who lived at the zoo. Even the later books like this one, and I have to say, the plot here is ingeniously funny. As you know, we love all things Jack Kent in this house.

It's the little things that make me proud. my son can pick out the Jack Kent books from a lineup.

And if you were lucky, you had microfiche to tell you if the distributor at least carried it! But as usual, I digress.) So yes. I am raising a future librarian or bookseller! (Like many a tiny bookstore now, I remember back to the days of bookselling before computers when the stock was all in your head. And he knows lots of the writers names too so whenever we start a new book he reels off whatever else that person has written. The cool thing about having a four-year-old who gets read to a lot is that when we get a new book, if the illustrator has been on our shelf in some other form before, he can basically tell you who illustrated it just by looking at it. It seems as if every time I turn around another Kent (happily) pops up.

Great Monday Give: Mystery Give Extended.Jack Kent ~ Parent's Magazine Press, 1981.

The Strange Disappearance of Arthur Cluck.

Read along on Facebook, tumblr, Twitter and Etsy Love love love love all things Jack Kent, including this book and the very air the man breathed. Just when the man thinks he might spend the winter in his half-birthday suit, the miracle of re-gifting occurs and all is right with the world. When the two get a hankering for the milk - and ultimately, the cheese products - produced by a cow down the lane, they, quite literally, sell the shirts off their backs to get some.

One day, he said to his wife, 'One can get tired of eating nothing but turnips.' All they had was a tumble-down house and a tiny turnip garden. In a faraway place in a long-ago time there lived an old man and his wife. It's a wee bit like The Gift of the Mag, but with way more piss and vinegar. Here, we have a somewhat-Christmas story. The slapstick fun.Īlways a good time to be had in his pages. Haven't featured Jack Kent since February, and as those who've read here for a while know, he's a hometown boy and one of my faves. Jack Kent ~ Parents' Magazine Press, 1978

Socks for Supper by Jack Kent