This exuberantly rendered Yiddish folktale is bright in hue and spirit. In Breslov lives a prince who has “more than he wanted. When he was hungry for a scrap of bread, he got a slice of cake dripping with honey.” One day, he’s simply done: He rips off his clothing, squats down and crows like a rooster. He won’t speak or eat meals at table. Doctors and magicians fail at cures. Then a bent old man arrives and joins the prince as fellow rooster—also clucking, also naked, sleeping on the cold floor. Step by step, he enlists the boy’s previously untapped thoughtfulness (“maybe a nice old rooster could sleep on [a mattress]”) to carry them together from rooster habits to a very human Sabbath supper with candles and blessings. Gouache primary colors dominate, given depth by watery pinks, dark greens and black graphite outlines. Yelchin’s half-satiric figures pitch exaggeratedly forward, the rooster postures comically extreme. Stampler’s touching note demonstrates this layered tale’s openness to multiple interpretations. (author’s note) (Picture book/folktale. 4-7)
