"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 chores.
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.
A lot of other games they played, with flour, and candles, and rings,
and things, then the Toyman gathered them up on his knees and the arm
of his chair, and told them a story. A good one? Of course! He
_never_ told a poor one.
By this time the children were sneezing and Mother said they'd have to
go to bed or they'd catch their "deathocold."
When they were at last undressed Jehosophat lay his head on the
pillow. But it wouldn't stay down. He could see Ole Man Pumpkin
sitting there on the dining-room table--so still! The Toyman had
forgotten to put out the candle in his head. It was a thick candle,
and it burned a long, long time. Ole Man Pumpkin seemed to be very
cheerful with it inside his hollow skull. It made him feel "all lit
up," he heard the Toyman say.
The big, round eyes never blinked. They just watched the little boy
all the time, and the big mouth was "just laughin' an' laughin' an'
laughin' at him."
Then all of a sudden Ole Man Pumpkin started to move. He didn't have
any legs, but he slid from the table to the floor, and somehow climbed
up on the window sill, and rolled out of the window. Jehosophat had to
get out of bed to see what his new friend was going to do. He followed
him across the dining room, over the window sill, and by the barn. And
all the little boy had on were his pajamas, but he didn't feel cold,
for Ole Man Pumpkin looked so bright and jolly and warm that
Jehosophat felt bright and jolly and warm, too.
Ole Man Pumpkin kept bumping his way along to the cornfield where Mr.
Scarecrow stood on guard, though his work for the year was done.
Now Mr. Scarecrow seemed to have a lot of friends around him, and he
was making a speech. There was Ole Man Pumpkin, of course; and
Jehosophat, who had just arrived; and Mr. Stuckup the Turkey, as usual
looking very grand and proud; and the Hippity-hop Bunnies, wiggling
their noses in their funny way; and Johnny Cottontail, their little
wild cousin, making his nose go, too. And there was Reddy Fox, with
one forepaw raised and his eyes as bright as beads; and a whole squad
of corn-soldiers with yellow tassels and green banners and tall
spears. My! but they looked bright and gay once more! And there were
lots of funny little folk besides,--three bright rosy-cheeked Apples,
talking and laughing and chattering away just like real people, and
two Pie-pans, only they didn't look flat and dull as when they were in
the kitchen, but had shiny intelligent faces, and they were chattering
away, too.
Mr. Scarecrow was making a speech to them in such a ridiculous
fashion. His arms stood out stiff and straight from the shoulder, but
he made queer floppy gestures with his wrists.
"I'm a Red," he was saying, "and I call upon you to rise upon the
cap'talists, who feed on your flesh and bones."
Jehosophat shuddered, for he thought he knew what was in Mr.
Scarecrow's mind. That very day in school they had had "Currantyvents,"
and Miss Prue Parsons had told them a lot about Reds, and Annarkisseds,
and Revolushions they wanted to start all over the world. Horrible,
shivery things they were that she had told them!
"Revolt--rebel. Rebel--revolt!" Old Mr. Scarecrow shouted, flapping
his wrists and swinging in the wind.
"Hear, hear!" cried the Little Red Apples;
"Hear, hear!" cried the Shiny Pie Pans; and
"Horrible, horrible!", Mr. Stuckup the Turkey.
Ole Man Pumpkin didn't say anything, but just grinned and grinned with
his big eyes and old yellow teeth.
"There is a cap'talist now, standing before you!" shouted Mr.
Scarecrow, and his wrists flapped right at Jehosophat, "away with
him!"
"Away with him!" shouted one and all--the Little Red Apples, the Shiny
Pie Pans, Mr. Stuckup the Turkey, and the Tall Corn Soldiers; and all
the time Ole Man Pumpkin kept grinning and grinning, as if he were
enjoying himself most cruelly.
Then Mr. Scarecrow said in a solemn voice:
"Soldiers, do your duty with the prisoner!"
And all at once two Tall Corn Soldiers stood on each side of him,
grabbed him by one arm, and growled:
"About face--forward march!"
And the first thing he knew, he was being hustled very swiftly over
towards the Pond.
The Little Red Apples and the Shiny Pie Pans rolled on ahead,
chattering gaily to each other; Mr. Stuckup marched on very pompously;
Ole Man Pumpkin bumped along just in front; the two Corn Soldiers
marched by his side; and a lot of others pricked him from behind with
their sharp, cruel spears.
What were they going to do with him? _That_ was the question.
He was soon to know, for they had reached the edge of the Pond.
"Duck him!" shouted the Little Red Apples in glee.
And the Tall Corn Soldiers seized Jehosophat by the hair on the top of
his head, and shoved him under the water, way under, oh, way, way
under.
"Give me a bite!" said the first Little Red Apple, snapping at their
prisoner's face when he came to the surface again.
"Me, too!" shouted the second.
"A big one for me!" yelled the third, and they all rolled in the water
and bobbed around, bumping up against his face and trying their best
to take a nip out of his cheeks.
He never had known before that apples had teeth, but, sure enough, he
felt them now--there was actually a little piece gone from each side
of his face.
"Great fun, Hallowe'en!" they called to one another as they bobbed
about, still snapping at his cheeks.
"Enough!" It was the two Corn Soldiers who spoke, and Jehosophat was
dragged from the Pond. He was dripping wet and he felt pretty cold in
his pajamas.
"Now it's my turn," said Ole Man Pumpkin. "Take him to the workshop,
there's a lot of sharp tools there."
Tools! Whatever could they be going to do with him now! But he had no
time to think, for there they were, all bumping, or rolling, or
stalking along, to the workshop, and taking him with them. They had no
keys, but they managed to enter just the same.
"On the table--come, up with him!"
And immediately the two Corn Soldiers siezed him by the arms and
hoisted him on the table, where he sat in his little pajamas, like a
tailor, with his knees crossed under him. But what was the idea? What
was that Ole Man Pumpkin telling the Corn Soldiers?
"Just cut a little hole in the top of his head--just enough to scoop
out his insides. Quick work, or he'll spoil."
"Save the drumstick for me," gobbled Mr. Stuck-up, "they didn't bother
me much on Hallowe'en, but I'm going to get even for Thanksgiving."
And all the time the Little Red Apples rolled around the floor in high
glee; and the Shiny Pie Pans danced against each other, making a noise
like the cymbals of the Salvation Army parade; and Ole Man Pumpkin
kept sharpening and sharpening his knife.
Then--then--but it was a new voice that was speaking to him.
"Get up!" it said.
It wasn't Ole Man Pumpkin that was telling him to get up on that
table, so he could scalp him. It was Mother telling him to sit up in
bed!
"I knew they had too much pie," she was saying, and, "come, dear, open
your mouth; take this and you'll feel better in the morning."
She was on one side of the bed, and Father was on the other, ready to
take a hand, as he always did under the circumstances.
They weren't pleasant, either, the circumstances, for they
were,--first Father's grip on his arm, then a tablespoon--not a
teaspoon, or a dessert spoon, but a tablespoon, such as a giant might
use--full of a thick yellow liquid from that bottle they hated so, and
pointed right at his tongue.
[Illustration: "'Cut a hole in the top of his head--just enough to
scoop out his insides,' said Ole Man Pumpkin."]
However, he took it pretty bravely, swallowed it, gulped, then choked
back the tears. But the orange-juice, which followed the yellow stuff,
almost made up for it. He always did like orange as a color better
than yellow, any day.
And _there_ was Ole Man Pumpkin again, on the dining room table,
grinning, not wickedly but cheerfully. He winked at Jehosophat, just
like the Ole Man in the Moon, whom he strangely resembled--as much as
to say:
"We'll have a good time yet in spite of that bottle."
After all, he wasn't an enemy of the children, who would cut holes in
their heads and scoop out their insides--he was their _friend_,
was Ole Man Pumpkin, and Jehosophat felt much relieved at that.