There are some things you just can't get in the Square. The nearest Big Mac is at least a T-stop away; there are no pet stores supplying hamster exercise wheels; coloring books are simply not to be found.

Not normal coloring books, anyway. You can find a few in the children's section of Wordsworth Books. But these are not traditional, cheapo-newsprint coloring books featuring Mickey Mouse or Popeye or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. These are coloring books for the kiddie intelligentsia. They're geared towards the children who were drilled on German Philosopher Flashcards at age two, attended experimental elementary schools where all classes were taught in Esperanto, and grew up to apply to Harvard and be your roommate. Maybe you had one of these coloring books yourself.

If so, I am sorry.

These brainy coloring books are a sad commentary on the Square, but sadder still for the little ones who are expected to take Crayola to paper and stay in the lines--all in the name of educational enrichment and personal advancement.

Children who are presented with coloring books like A. G. Smith's Knights and Armor, for example, are supposed to check out the "glossary of terms" in the back. And you can bet that the author doesn't intend for artists to fill in the line drawings with Crayola's new, vibrant colors: "wild strawberry" or "jungle green." No, Smith wants colorists to learn: If that means using the same depressing gray crayon on page after page in order to maintain accuracy, then so be it.

With some of these books, one glance is enough to induce fidgeting in the average five-year old. Favorite Wildflowers Coloring Book, for instance, would be a pretty rotten gift if you were expecting a Barbie. On the first page, a table of contents tells colorists on what page they will find the Cow Vetch. Bonus: an Index of Scientific Names teaches the novice that the Cow Vetch is also called "Vicia cracca." Of course, every cool five-year-old already knows this.

The book's text indicates the colors of stems and foliage. If kids remain faithful to these instructions, they'll end up mostly using unthrilling "goldenrod" and "olive green." And they'll quit after three minutes to go watch T.V.

The pages of Tiffany Designs Stained Glass Coloring Book are copies of actual stained glass windows. The unlucky owners of this book are supposed to look at the examples in the front, "reproduced in full color," the book's back cover exclaims. This is a ploy to get kids into a career in architecture or design good and early; a ploy to get them to instantly recognize windows from such landmarks as the Reformed Church in Flushing, N.Y.

Other coloring books might seem more interesting at first. Mythical Beasts Coloring Book contains drawings of monsters, always a popular subject for the pre-pre-pubescent set. The author seems knowledgable about his subject; perhaps he's even spent one too many years researching mythical beasts, judging from his text concerning the dragon-like "Wyvern." "To see one," he says earnestly, "is a frightful experience."

But sadly, Mythical Beasts is just another sneaky coloring book whose purpose is to get kids to (yawn) learn. It offers a bibliography, for Pete's sake. And some of the literary allusions are a little bit esoteric for the ordinary five-year-old monster fan. Five-year-olds are made to feel like losers if they don't remember that the Hippogriff was, of course, the animal that Ruggiero rode in Ariosto's epic, "Orlando Furioso."

Animals are always exciting to kids--zoos make tons of money from children's admission every year. So Roger Tory Peterson's Field Guide to Tropical Forests Coloring Book should be fun, right? Well, a rather lengthy introduction is the first clue that there's something sinister going on here. Sure enough, a sub-heading to the introduction reads, "How to Use This Book." When a coloring book needs how-to instructions, times are truly bleak.

The book's front and back covers basically serve as an answer key, showing examples of the "real colors" of tropical birds and animals. Denying every child's Right to Free Choice of Crayon, the author declares that the examples are provided because "knowing how to recognize key field marks...can spell the difference between frustration and enjoyment." Just in case your five-year-old is planning to write a National Geographic piece on the Brazilian jungle.

Perhaps the company that publishes these coloring books, Dover Publications, intends for kids of all ages to enjoy hours of coloring enjoyment. "There are a lot of older children and even adults who enjoy coloring," says Paul T. Negri, Advertising Director at Dover.

Negri adds that feedback from these "non-traditional" crayon enthusiasts has been positive: "They don't feel childish coloring these because they're so sophisticated."

Okay, but what about the Cambridge-area youth who's not into sophistication? Does he or she have to labor over a line drawing of the prehistoric Doedicurus, with a stubby "raw sienna" crayon? Or is there hope for kids who want to savor their childhood--and their neon Crayolas--for a few more years?

Dover does publish some coloring books specifically for young children, according to Negri. These are books like Fun With Opposites and Make Your Own Teddy Bear Calendar.

Not even these books are free of hidden motives, however. The back cover of Fun With Opposites boasts that this book is a "stimulating learning tool" that educates little ones in the science of opposites, while improving "basic motor and cognitive skills." The Teddy Bear Calendar coloring book tells parents and teachers that kids will "learn seasonal events and pasttimes."

Yet the teddy bears have an even more devious aim. The book is organized into "large blocks, ready to be filled in with important dates, schedules, and plans." Kind of like the Daily Planners used by these kids' goal-oriented, power-hungry mommies and daddies.

The Square's coloring books prove that these days. Smart Coloring is the first rung of the corporate ladder. Any savvy child on the way to the top knows that to Scribble For Success, one has to stay in the lines. And by all means, to avoid "vivid tangerine."