Overrated As Fantagraphics Books’ recent reprint of the complete run of the first two years of Peanuts proves, Charles Schulz’s comic strip was once funny, audacious, quirky, and inventive. These early strips first appeared well over a half-century ago, however, and in the last decades of its original run Peanuts was bland, repetitious, smug, and not particularly amusing.

Possibly Schulz was influenced by the nearly universal perception that he was a really sweet guy along the lines of your favorite uncle. Peanuts grew increasingly nice, cozy, and, too often, preachy.

With many comic strips, knowing when to quit isn’t a problem: The syndicate editors simply cancel a feature that is losing papers. Peanuts , though, has become a merchandising juggernaut, and its momentum has kept it going to this day, now in reruns. Bill Watterson, creator of the extremely popular Calvin and Hobbes , did know when to quit and closed up shop while Calvin and his tiger were just about as fresh and funny as they had been on their first day in newspapers.

Underrated Crockett Johnson’s Barnaby , lasting in its original newspaper run from 1942 to 1952, was also about life as seen from a kid’s point of view. It was in fact a favorite of Charles Schulz; he called it “one of the great comic strips of all time.” You can’t, though, buy a compilation of the strip today except from a secondhand book dealer. More restless, and quite probably less kindly, than Schulz, Johnson abandoned his strip after a decade. He later created Harold and the Purple Crayon and its popular sequels. These children’s books are still in print, and Johnson owes most of his posthumous fame to them.

Barnaby began in the spring of 1942 in the liberal New York tabloid PM. Its leading characters were Barnaby, a bright and articulate preschooler, and Mr. O’Malley, his windy and not completely effectual fairy godfather. Barnaby looked a great deal like Harold. O’Malley was a child-size, pudgy fellow who wore an overcoat that allowed his pink wings to flap freely. In the winter he added earmuffs to his ensemble. For a magic wand he used a Havana cigar. He never met a problem, big or small, that he wasn’t ready to deal with —or at least to discuss at great length. O’Malley really could work magic, and he could fly. But he was easily distracted and sidetracked, having a short attention span when it came to concentrating on working miracles.

He came into Barnaby’s life when the boy wished for a fairy godmother. That very night Jackeen J. O’Malley flew in through his bedroom window, crashlanding and bending his stogie. “Cushlamochree! Broke my magic wand!... Lucky boy! Your wish is granted! I’m your Fairy Godfather!” After promising, “M’boy, your