Half-Past Seven Stories Part 22

It was October, and the cornfield was deserted and bare. Jehosophat and Marmaduke could remember it as a more beautiful picture. For there, in the Summer, an army had camped, the great army of the corn, with ta.s.sels and tall yellow spears, and bright green banners waving and tossing in the wind. But when Fall had come, Father and the Toyman had come, too, with their sickles like swords, to attack and cut down that brave army. And now the corn soldiers were all laid away, stiff and cold, in the barn, or else in the silo--to be pickled in juice!

Marmaduke and Jehosophat looked over the field. It was covered with little hills, and there the feet of the corn soldiers still stood, all that was left of them, for they had been "swished by those swords,"

just at the ankles.

Between the hills shone the last of the pumpkins, big, round and yellow--red-yellow like an orange. Most of them had gone in the wagon, long ago, but the largest of all had been left. My, but he was a big fellow! "The biggest in the world!" they declared.

He had been saved for the great day--or night, we should say--Hallowe'en.

But let's hurry the clock--over three days--to the morning before the celebration.

The three children were watching Mother in the kitchen. She was busy with the big pumpkin, but the Toyman had to help her with it--it was so huge. He lifted it on the table--then--what do you think?

He took a sharp knife and scalped that Pumpkin--just like an Indian--cut a great hole in his head. Then Mother scooped out his insides and chopped them up fine. Ole Man Pumpkin was very brave, just stood it and said never a word.

"Why, he doesn't holler a bit!" exclaimed Marmaduke. "_I_ would, if anybody scalped _me_ and took _my_ insides out!"

Next, Mother brought out the big pot, filling it part with water, and part with Ole Man Pumpkin's yellow insides. And the fire roared angrily and boiled them, boiled them all up. It took quite a long time, but the children didn't grow tired--it was such a mysterious, such an interesting process.

At last Mother decided it had been cooked long enough, and she poured the water into the sink, the nice yellow stuff into a bowl. Then she mashed the lumps till it looked like golden mush.

Now the flour was sifted on the pastry board, and the dough rolled until it was as smooth and flat as a sheet or counterpane. Then quickly and neatly the dough counterpanes were placed in the pans, hanging over the edges like covers overlapping a bed. Taking a knife, Mother cut off these edges even with the pan, then, for decoration, made little marks in the dough all around, like the flutings of the Fairy Lamp.

Of course, the insides of Ole Man Pumpkin wouldn't taste quite right as they were, so Mother broke some eggs over them, adding some milk and a pinch of spice for seasoning, and the delicious mess was stirred till all was thoroughly mixed.

Soon it was ready, a fine filling for pies and pans or little boys or kings, for that matter, and she sc.r.a.ped it into the pans until the white crust was covered up, all but the fluted edges. Then into the oven went the pies, on the top shelf, and the door was closed to keep the heat in.

Meanwhile the children had been so busy watching Mother and those pies; and their mouths had watered so as they watched, that they hadn't noticed the Toyman at all--until they heard him say,--

"Good mornin', Jack!"

Jack Who? Not Jack Holmes or Jack Frost--no, it was someone much handsomer, although he had a hole in the top of his head, a fat face, big round eyes, a large flat nose, and a wide, wide mouth with lots of square teeth in it.

"Mr. Jehosophat Green," said the Toyman very politely, "let me make you acquainted with Jack, or, as he is sometimes called, 'Ole Man Pumpkin.'"

Jehosophat bowed low.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, just like grownup folks.

Then Marmaduke piped up,--

"Make me acquainted, too."

"To be sure," said the Toyman, "Mr. Marmaduke Green meet Mr. Jack Lantern."

"_Very_ glad to know you," said Marmaduke, bowing even lower than had Jehosophat, while Hepzebiah, dancing in her eagerness, shouted,--

"Make me 'quainted, make me 'quainted!"

The Toyman took her by the arm, and he in turn made a grand bow.

"Now, Jack, old fellow, this is an honor. Here's a lady expressin' a desire to make your acquaintance. Miss Hepzebiah Green, let me present Mr. Jack O. Lantern, otherwise known as 'Ole Man Pumpkin.'"

Then he turned to Jack.

"You don't mind my calling you so familiarly, do you?"

Apparently Jack didn't mind, for he just squatted there, lazy-like, and grinned with all his big square teeth.

Hepzebiah giggled back at him. She was having a glorious time. So were they all.

So, through that long--no, very _short_--afternoon, the kitchen was filled with pleasant smells and the air of fun and a pleasant surprise to come. They almost thought they could _smell_ the surprise as well as the pies.

It came at last, that is the surprise did, for, just after supper, the Toyman disappeared, probably to do some of his ch.o.r.es.

A little while later there came a tap at the window.

Marmaduke turned.

Jehosophat turned.

Hepzebiah turned.

"Ooh, ooh!" said she;

"Golly!" said Marmaduke; and

"Gee whiz!", Jehosophat.

Great yellow eyes looked in through the window, and a nose, and a great grinning mouth with big teeth in it.

The visitor nodded, needing no introduction, for they had made his acquaintance already.

He came into the house, helped a little by the Toyman, and still nodding his great yellow head.

They gave him a seat of honor, not _by_ the table, but _on_ it, right in the centre. Marmaduke climbed up and looked down into the big hole in the top of his head. In it was a thick candle, dancing inside his old yellow skull, and he seemed a good comrade, that Ole Man Pumpkin.

But what was the Toyman doing now?

He had a tub in his arms. He set it down, filled it with water, then popped three red apples in it.

And the children got down on their knees around the tub and tried to take the apples in their teeth. But round and round they bobbed, so fast that it was difficult to catch them.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Jehosophat;

"Kerchoo!" sneezed Marmaduke;

"Guhuh!" coughed Hepzebiah, all their eyes and their mouths, noses and tummies, too, full of water. And always those little red apples bobbed out of reach. Once Jehosophat thought he had caught one, but his teeth slipped on its smooth round cheek and all he got was a piece of skin.

It was fun just the same.