There's not much more to Kraus' thirteen one-page non-stories than a few minijolts of domestic recognition. Zeb Zebra, driving his steam engine, finds his lost glasses under the hat he's wearing. Bertram Basset Hound's stomach wins out over his bad mood when he's lured from dangerous waters for biscuits on the boat. Father Hedgehog on a late-night walk tries to lecture Hilary and Hannah on the stars, but all they can say is ""I'm thirsty."" Really though the text is only here to provide a showcase for the Night-Lite kids, whom Bodecker depicts in their Doctor Dentons at an ice rink, on a fancy pink-and-gold merry-go-round, in a noisy neon-flooded traffic jam, at the dignified pillared Night-Lite library with its guardian stone basset hounds instead of the usual lions, and in holiday tableaux from a Fourth of July fireworks display to a jack-o-lanterned Halloween to Christmas outdoors around a candle-trimmed tree too beautiful to cut down. It's almost like a supplement to the Night-Lite Calendar, for old friends who find a month too long to wait between scenes.