Adventure tales aren’t often as quiet as this item, which takes a low-key approach. Thirsting to see what lies over the horizon, little Tom Mouse, of the house mouse variety, hops a train headed for points west. He manages to secret himself in a sleeper, which he has all to himself for the first night, bedazzled by the countryside rolling along beside him and by the stars that appear to be traveling with him. But the next day, a human enters the sleeping cabin—an inconvenience, since Tom is relegated to hiding in the closet, but on the other hand she does leave a paper bag full of goodies for him to snack upon. Tom dares leave the sanctuary of the closet only when the woman goes to dinner and late at night, when he thinks she is asleep. Then, once more, he heads to the window to marvel at the passing world, even to break out in a jig at the sheer glory of it all. Turns out the woman was not so ignorant of Tom’s existence—and the next day she confronts him. His fears are soon allayed when she reveals herself to be a friend of wild creatures—it is suggested that she is perhaps a wildlife biologist—and she invites him to join her on her travels: to Chicago, San Francisco, and Tokyo. This celebration of the open road and the kindness of strangers comes as particularly salubrious at a time when the prevailing mood is to batten down the hatches. And the soft colors and somewhat misty look of the art are in keeping with the mood: daring yet protected. (Picture book. 4-8)
