One of the things that being a father to a four-year-old has facilitated is an increasing acquaintance with the corpus of children’s literature, including the works of Beatrix Potter, best known for her “Tale of Peter Rabbit.” In recent evenings I’ve been reading to Theresa from a volume containing fourteen of her stories, Peter Rabbit’s Storytime Collection. All but two are unfamiliar to me. I recall “The Tale of Peter Rabbit” itself and “The Tale of Benjamin Bunny,” the former far better than the latter.



As I’ve read through these stories, it’s become painfully evident to me that most of them have weak plot lines. But people read them because of the beautiful ink and watercolour illustrations, lovingly executed by the author herself. These are what make the series such a classic of children’s literature.

Incidentally, I understand that it’s unusual nowadays for a children’s book to have the same author and illustrator. There are exceptions, but most of these are from a previous generation, such as Doctor Seuss and Virginia Lee Burton, famous for Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel and, my personal favourite, The Little House.

Theresa likes these stories well enough. But the only one she asked to hear again was "The Tale of Samuel Whiskers, Or, The Roly-poly Pudding,” in which little Tom Kitten is kidnapped by two exceedingly argumentative rats who wrap him in pastry dough, intending to bake and eat him–the feline equivalent, I suppose, of a corn dog! I had thought this story would scare my daughter, but, no, she wanted to hear it again. I’ve given up trying to predict her likes and dislikes.