A lively picture book adaptation of the well-known children's hand-clapping rhyme, perfect for the whole family. Everyone knows some version of this popular children's hand-clapping rhyme, but in this adaptation, the elephant's fateful jump over the fence is just the beginning of the fun. Popular children's author Mary Ann Hoberman has elaborated on this well known tale to create an absurdly funny story children will want to sing, chant, read, and clap to again and again.

Quick! What color was Miss Mary Mack wearing when she went upstairs to make her bed? And what did Miss Lucy name her baby boy? Discover the answers to these questions inside, along with more than one hundred fabulous handclaps and street rhymes. From "I'm a Pretty Little Dutch Girl" to "A, My Name Is Alice," every one of them is as much fun to read as it is to sing, chant, or recite.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack,All dressed in black, black, black,With silver buttons, buttons, buttons,All down her back, back, back¿Who exactly was Mary Mack and what are those silver buttons? Taking historical fiction to an all new level, Alexander G.J. plants you back in time to New York City in the early 19th century, to the world of Mary Elizabeth White, an eccentric, British-born, socialite, who rubbed elbows with some of the most powerful families in the world. Rumored to have lived in a lighthouse on Fifth Avenue, Mary White was also a suffragette, opera singer, pianist and a formable fencer.When the Germans sink the RMS Lusitania, it sets into motion a series of events connecting Mary's fate to both the oncoming war, as well as a tragic accident at a circus in 1892, involving elephants and a little American girl. What is Mary's connection to the American girl and how is she related to her father's tragic past?

Revisit the traditional rhyme and clapping game.

A year has passed since Stacey Brown saved her best friend from a horrible death. Now she’s having nightmares again, haunted by ghosts ... and by a crazed stalker. As she desperately casts healing spells, a new student named Jacob enters her world. To stop a killer, they must join together. But can Jacob be trusted?

Tyree Daye’s Cardinal is a generous atlas that serves as a poetic “Green Book”— the travel-cum-survival guide for black motorists negotiating racist America in the mid-twentieth century. Interspersed with images of Daye’s family and upbringing, which have been deliberately blurred, it also serves as an imperfect family album. Cardinal traces the South’s burdened interiors and the interiors of a black male protagonist attempting to navigate his many departures and returns home —a place that could both lovingly rear him and coolly annihilate him. With the language of elegy and praise, intoning regional dialect and a deliberately disruptive cadence, Daye carries the voices of ancestors and blues poets, while stretching the established zones of the black American vernacular. In tones at once laden and magically transforming, he self-consciously plots his own Great Migration: “if you see me dancing a twos step/I’m sending a starless code/we’re escaping everywhere.” These are poems to be read aloud.