One of my very favorite children's books is and was The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster. I've read that Juster wrote numerous other books, but I've never read any of these other books. It's not only that I haven't come across them, but even more that I'm sort of afraid to. I doubt that he could ever write something as good as that book, so why spoil my respect for him. It's a classic, and is probably very well known, but still not well known enough for how great a book it is.

In one chapter Milo, the hero, is given the responsibility of watching over the orchestra that plays the colors of the world. He's to keep an eye on the orchestra during the night while the conductor sleeps, and to wake him up in time to conduct the sunrise. Before waking Chroma, the conductor, Milo decides to try his hand at the job. At first Milo successfully conducts the orchestra, and the awakening dawn is filled with beautiful colors. To his dismay, things don't continue quite so successfully.
 
 

He tried to do everything just the way Chroma had done, but nothing worked. The musicians played on, faster and faster, and the purple sun raced quickly across the sky. In less than a minute it had set once more in the west and then, without any pause, risen again in the east. The sky was now quite yellow and the grass a charming shade of lavender. Seven times the sun rose and almost as quickly disappeared as the colors kept changing. In just a few minutes a whole week had gone by. At last the exhausted Milo, afraid to call for help and on the verge of tears, dropped his hands to his sides. The orchestra stopped. The colors disappeared, and once again it was night. The time was 5:27 A.M. "Wake up, everybody! Time for the sunrise!" he shouted with relief, and quickly jumped from the music stand. "What a marvelous rest," said Chroma, striding to the podium. "I feel as though I'd slept for a week. My, my, I see we're a little late this morning. I'll have to cut my lunch hour short by four minutes." He tapped for attention, and this time the dawn proceeded perfectly. "You did a fine job," he said, patting Milo on the head. "Someday I'll let you conduct the orchestra yourself." Tock wagged his tail proudly, but Milo didn't say a word, and to this day no one knows of the lost week but the few people who happened to be awake at 5:23 on that very strange morning.

Go to: oh, how I'm glad he went away, or
Go to: Only a pawn in their game