The look and spirit of a book may be more important than any story--or, the lack of a story. And so it is here: in sunny crayon drawings, with some of John Burningham's airiness, small, curly-mopped Hilda puts down the garden hose (""I'm exhausted""), and sets out for ""my restful chair"" in the weathered farm shed. First to join her is Osbert the wombat: ""It's a hard life,"" he sighs when a drop of water wakes him up. Cadbury the cat has to be shifted to one side; Cream and Smiles the inseparable bunnies ask ""politely"" to be seated too; Chester the badger climbs up without waiting for an answer; Ivan the duck doesn't so much as ask. And when Lightfoot the field mouse curls up on top, ""THAT WAS THE LAST STRAW FOR THE CHAIR!"" With amusing illogic, ""it overturned and everybody tumbled out!"" Hilda and Osbert will console themselves with watermelon in the kitchen. . . ""where, by some magic, they found two slices. . . all ready for them."" A country summer and a congeries of animals disarmingly encapsulated.