Enter, if you dare, the Monster Museum, whose halls are crowded with the likes of Count Dracula, Bigfoot, poltergeists, Medusa, mummies, zombies, werewolves, and The Blob. Nine gawking children, dressed in itchy-looking green tweed school uniforms, are led through the spider-strewn museum by a sinister, leering docent, who introduces each ghastly monster in verse: Alas, King Kong, he sealed his fate When he climbed up the Empire State Oh, why'd he try this great escape? 'Cause they called him a monkey And he was an ape! While Marilyn Singer's rhymes are often forced, the humor and subtle edification compensates. (One myth debunked: Frankenstein is the name of the scientist, not the creature himself, who whines "No wonder I'm cranky-- / Stop calling me Frankie! / Won't somebody give me a name!"). Gris Grimly's weird illustrations are appropriately creepy--even the regular human beings (who systematically disappear throughout the tour) sport some grotesque body parts, including giant, gnarled hands. (Ages 4 to 7) --Emilie Coulter