The original edition of The Little Red Caboose was written and illustrated for Golden Books, which at the time was a children's program started by Simon and Schuster, the original copyright holder. Simon and Schuster is the name that appears on the title page, below those of the author, Marian Potter, and artist, Tibor Gergely, on the edition published and printed in 1953. At that time, Western Printing Company was the lithographer and printer, and another partner, Artists and Writers Guild, Inc. was also mentioned on the copyright page. All were in New York, except for Western Printing, which was in Racine, Wisconsin. In later printings we see that Simon and Schuster apparently spun off Golden Books to Western, which had become Western Publishing, still in Racine, while Golden Books remained in New York. The back cover (original edition) has pictures of other books for young people by Simon and Schuster, not the cartoon characters associated with Golden Books.Whew! The reason I mention all of this is because this review is for the first edition of The Little Red Caboose. It's hard to identify these if you do not know what to look for. Western Publishing was not the original copyright holder in 1953.Now for the book itself. Anyone who is familiar with children's books from the 1950s will be familiar with the artwork of Tibor Gergely, who painted worlds behind the story, worlds that young, curious eyes can never get enough of. Every aspect of life you can think of that might be seen from the railroad tracks of the book's subject, a caboose on a freight train, is visible through the course of the story in Gergely's paintings. Cityscapes, country life, school busses, fruit stands, gas stations, boats, circuses and their animals, Native American tribes with tepees, and people on horseback, in cars, on bicycles, hiking, climbing, paddling, flying kites, hay wagons, going to school, fishing, and much more, are all represented on the pages. Many pages are filled with animals instead of people. But the center of attraction in this story is the freight train.The freight trains of the 1940s and early 1950s were quite different from what we see today. They were pulled by giant, steel locomotives puffing clouds of steam and smoke, and the watch-works of rods, pistons, levers, wheels, and counterweights were all visible, all moving in incredible synchrony, seeming alive and friendly at slow speeds and quite terrifying at high speeds. This was the lore of the steam locomotive, which holds the people's attention and imagination at it passes. the freight cars each had their own appeal, too. Colorful and interestingly shaped, their contents dictated their form, pregnant with stories about the industries that depended on them. But the last car on the train was always the little red caboose, and by the time it came along people were turning away, going about their day, or ready to get on across the road. The caboose was sad, because nobody seemed to stay to say hello to it. We all feel that way from time to time; ignored, rejected, lonely and sad, and rare is the child who doesn't know those feelings first-hand.This is the story of what happened one day when the mountain was too great, the locomotive failed, and the little red caboose saved the train until help could come. The help came in the form of two big black locomotives that steamed up from behind and helped push the train over the mountains. That's exactly the way real railroads work: in mountainous regions they [still, even today] have helper locomotives that push the train over the top, then they part ways. The helpers go back to the bottom and wait for the next train. This story looks very much like the railroads of Pennsylvania, whose namesake railroad had massive engines that kept the trains moving briskly over the Allegheny summit at Gallitzin.So, there's a lot of interesting knowledge for young eyes to glean from the pages of this book. The book functions as a subconscious teacher about the world; that's what you get from Tibor Gergely's paintings while the story itself goes by in parallel, but not necessarily dominating the scene. Oh, the climactical moments are there in the paintings, too. You see the astonishment in the faces of the watchers, and somehow you see fear in the train and determination in the little red caboose. Such is the Gergely's magic, bringing inanimate objects to life without the need for faces and anthropomorphizing, but instead with implied action. Never mind that the world of 1953 looked different. It's still a world we recognize, and we relate to everything in it, because the activities and actions are familiar.Thus as we see the caboose hard at work, we instinctively know what it's doing as the story goes:"And he slammed on his brakes.And he held tight to the tracks.And he kept that trainfrom sliding down the mountain."And in the background we see the big engines coming up the mountain to take over from the struggling caboose still holding the train tightly to the rails. The Caboose is now a hero, and the people (and animals) stay and wave when it passes.It was one of my favorites as a child, and when I read it to children who are close enough to see the pictures, they love it, too. The story is over 60 years old, and yet it's as fresh as the day Simon and Schuster decided to create a line of children's books, with guidance from Columbia University, and called it Golden Books.