Just so you know, this slim book has NOTHING to do with the Black Sox Scandal, in fact has nothing to do with Baseball OR Chicago, which is all good, at least to The Droning Voice. It is, in fact, about reindeer.
And, just so you know, this has nothing to do with any of the reindeer involved in pulling Santa’s sled full of toys. Nope. THIS book is sanctioned by the full backing of THE WORLD BOOK COMPANY, located in Yonkers-on-Hudson, NY, which is nowhere near the North Pole. All the action takes place kinda in that vicinity, though. The North Pole. Not Yonkers-on-Hudson. And, unlike many of the children’s books The Droning Voice has read, none of the critters in this book wear anything remotely resembling a monocule or top-hat or even spats. There is, however, a mention of a “seal-leather thong”, but The Droning Voice hastens to assure the listener that such a thong had a much different use back in the 1920s in Alaska than might be employed today, particularly in certain nightclubs in San Francisco.
This book teaches the listener probably more than they wanted to know about actual reindeer, and their caribou cousins up in the northern latitudes. It is the story of a wise Mother Reindeer teaching her young fawn, White Sox, all about being a reindeer. They manage, somehow – it is never explained how, exactly – to get away from their herd and hang with their caribou cousins for a while, where White Sox learns all about the hazards of living in the wild and being considered tasty to wolves. And he experiences “Antler Envy” when he notices his caribou cousins have larger antlers than he. The Droning Voice was glad his mother was able to assuage his youthful concerns in that area. Every good mother assures her son that size doesn’t really matter.
Also, at one point White Sox and his mom have to escape wolves by running into a marshy area that is basically a natural super-fund site, with oil just laying about the surface of the land and water. They slowly wade through it, knowing the wolves’ will have to turn back, and turning White Sox’s legs black in the process. Ick. It is a good (?) thing these oil lakes near Point Barrow were discovered by oil companies in the early 1920s, so that they could get to cleaning them up. So to speak.
If you simply MUST know where Point Barrow is, the author of this book, Mr. Lopp, tells the student to open up a map of Alaska and find the 71st parallel. The Droning Voice managed to find it on her ca. 1960’s era globe, which also has all kinds of countries on it that no longer technically exist.
Mother Reindeer then tells White Sox the history of how the reindeer came to be in the service of man (woman, humans, LGTBQLMNOP) involving a caribou fawn named “White Feet”, but given what he DID, should’ve been call “Brown Nose”. The Droning Voice will leave it at that.