PARADE

Visually, one of Crews' snazziest creations—and pretty terrific at capturing the many moods and shadings of a parade too. The book begins in the gray dawn with a sanitation truck sweeping the street; food and souvenir vendors get ready; knots of people gather; we see "A crowd. Waiting"—faceless, but each differentiated. (The two lines of watchers, on either side of the street, have the abstract crackle-and-pop of Crews' first picture books.) Then: "Here it comes!" The color guard (a sea of national flags—for the observant to recognize) and, for three openings, the marching band ("clarinets, saxophones, cornets, trumpets, flutes, French horns, sousaphones, field drums, cymbals, and last the big bass drums"). Next: floats—comical ballyhoo floats; "Bicycles from bygone days, and antique automobiles." "And at the end of the parade"—with confetti flying—"the brand-new fire engine." Then the crowds disperse. "Nothing left to see, nothing left to do except. . . clean up." With less martial spirit than high-stepping, holiday hijinks—a parade to please even the dyspeptic.