Whitefish Will Rides Again!

With no rustlers left, the townsfolk lay off Sheriff Whitefish Will, but when outlaws show up, Will returns to prove that a harmonica tooting is mightier than a pistol shooting

Kindergarten-Grade 3-Whitefish Will was "just about the best danged sheriff that ever lived." He loses his job, though, after there are "no more rustlers left to rassle." In his later years, he takes up the harmonica, and when he plays it sounds "worse than a bobcat caught on a cactus." When an awful troublemaker named Bart shows up in town, the people finally get their old sheriff to come back and save them. Without overdoing it, Yorinks sprinkles tongue-in-cheek Old West expressions into his lively story and goes a step beyond the predictable in his plot. When Bart steals all of the horses, the townsfolk gladly walk. He robs the bank and they cheerfully give up their money. When he takes everyone's clothes, they just wear barrels ("'Nice breeze,' said the tailor. 'And one size fits all.'"). Mad Magazine readers will recognize Drucker's humorous cartoons, and they fit this tall tale just right. All of the people (and the animals, too) are drawn as caricatures, so everyone looks equally silly. Little touches like the happy-face button on Bart's hat and the safety pin holding big-bellied Will's shirt together add extra humor.
Steven Engelfried, West Lynn Library,
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Yorinks, author of the Caldecott-winning Hey, Al , and veteran Mad magazine illustrator Drucker (who here makes his children's book debut) are just the right fellas to relate this rollicking tale set in the Wild West. The book opens with three mighty tall (the type is 214 high) words: "WHO'S WHITEFISH WILL?" The answer, set in ordinary-size type: "Why, he's just about the best danged sheriff that ever lived. That's who." That pretty much sets the tone for the folksy-tongued narrator's tale, which uncoils as smoothly as a rodeo rope. Sure-firing Will has proven "so good at rassling rustlers that soon there were no more rustlers left to rassle." So he is put out to pasture, left to raise roosters and blow on his harmonica (his "stinkweed serenades" sound "worse than a bobcat caught on a cactus"). But what happens when bad Bart (who was "so mean rattlesnakes would line up and try to kiss his feet") and his gang ride into town and threaten to burn the place down? The townsfolk go fetch Will, of course, who runs the varmint out of town--by playing his harmonica (" ' Ay yi yi yi yi! ' Bart cried, 'Have mercy!' "). And the West is safe for honest (earplug-wearing) folks once again. Drucker's droll, hyperbolic art--featuring a passel of comical cowboy caricatures--is smack on target. No question 'bout it: kids gonna love this one. All ages.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Ages 5-9. With his hairy chest, cleft chin, and bulging biceps, sheriff Whitefish Will merely had to look at varmints and they'd scramble out of his way. Why, Will was so good at keeping order that he made his job obsolete and retired to the hills, where he took up the harmonica. It's said that his playing provoked coyotes to learn to howl just to drown him out. After a while, peaceful Whitefish, Montana, was invaded by the evil villain Bart, who stole the townspeople's horses, money, and even their clothes. Reduced to walking instead of riding and to wearing barrels instead of clothes, the citizens finally sent for Whitefish Will to rescue them. But it was a pot-bellied, thin-haired Will who returned to challenge Bart. When the snickering villain went for his pistol, Will whipped out his harmonica and serenaded Bart and his gang right out of town. Having honed his talent on the pages and covers of Mad magazine, Drucker exaggerates Yorinks' text with rollicking, bright-colored caricatures, ably helping to stretch this tall tale to the heights of hilarity. Ellen Mandel