If your goose is laying golden eggs, it makes sense to keep her straw fresh and her pen clean.
          The several producers of the musical comedy "Annie" obviously subscribe to this concept, since the touring company of that show, back for another month at the Fox Theatre starting yesterday, still sparkles.
          Oh, some of the performances are becoming a bit mannered and there's that certain corner-cutting by subsidiary players which manifests itself during long runs.But generally, this is an "Annie" as spiffy as the one that set records at the Fox in January.
          Partly this is because the company is virtually the same one. Reid Shelton has expanded his avoirdupois playing Daddy Warbucks, the role he created on Broadway three years ago, but he continues to give full measure at every performance, obviously appreciating the part of a lifetime.
          And Jane Connell continues to hone her eccentric reading of the villainous orphan-keeper, now employing a new subtlety. As her equally larcenous brother, Tom Offt is more relaxed, good news for dance fans, and Edie Cowan of the original production has checked in as the third baddie, thus preserving the integrity of "Easy Street," the show's best and nearly only dance number.
          Young Marisa Morell continues to charm in the title role but she's picked up a few tricks to pad the part, not all of which serve the greater glory of the production. Her coltish grace and phenomenal musicality make up any difference.
          Tom Hatten's President Roosevelt is as slick and complete as before. It's Lisa Robinson, as Warbuck's glamorous and efficient private secretary, who's grown the most in her role and the role, about which director-lyricist Martin Charnin confessed to confusion, has changed with her. Robinson is such a very vivid presence on any stage -- tall, blonde, striking, a hearty singer -- that she's hard to ignore. So, this production features a certain enhanced air of romance in Warbuck's life.
          "Annie" is no "Hamlet," though, and detailed analysis is silly. The show works because it's got terrific theatre songs by Charnin and Charles Strouse ("Tomorrow," "Maybe" and the title song as good as any musical comedy stuff in years), a book by Thomas Meehan which manages to be both witty and simple and a bright, tricky decor.
          The last is where the golden egg goose analogy fits in. David Mitchell's lovely, intricate settings look as fresh as they did on opening night, except for a few nicks on the automobiles, and Theoni V. Aldredge's costumes likewise show not only superior design but also high quality maintenance.
          Milton Greene conducted the sprightly Philip J. Lang arrangements with care and the large cast -- certainly including Annie's sextet of pint-sized chums -- handled their musical and dance chores cheerfully and to good effect.
          The play is no masterpiece but it is a phenomenon. Like "The Music Man" and "West Side Story," to name equally successful predecessors, it has defined itself and produced no workable imitations. It's hard to beat in the contemporary theatre for raising a satisfied glow.