I KNEW TWO WHO SAID MOO

Barrett wrestles six to twelve words that rhyme with a number between one and ten into more or less (usually less) meaningful verses, each of which is computer-illustrated with a frenzied scene of countable objects and pop-eyed animals doing silly things. The rhyming word in each line is printed in a contrasting color, and read aloud, the poems will elicit guffaws—“There are just three / Sitting in a tree / All drinking tea / And eating macaroni / While playing a symphony.” Though that doesn’t seem to have been the intent, the very badness of the rhyming may tempt children to add their own lines, but the joke does wear thin—and so does Barrett’s inspiration, particularly with “Seven,” where she lamely resorts to names and repetition: i.e., “seven . . . eleven . . . heaven . . . Evan . . . Kevin . . . Devon . . . Evan . . . seven.” For children just learning to count, stick with old reliables, such as Keith Baker’s Big Fat Hen (1994). (Picture book. 2-4)