Part 19 (1/2)

”There, now, you see we mean no harm,” declared Pumpkin, ”so let Potato go. Then you can both join us in our Halloween frolic.”

At the magic words ”Halloween frolic,” Babette put Potato down at once.

She was bound to have her fun, and, after all, the vegetables seemed to be a jolly lot. So peace was made, and the children followed the bobbing Turnips and Onions. Then shouts were heard, and Pumpkin ordered a halt.

Presently they were joined by a dozen or more Cabbages.

”You're nice ones!” panted the Cabbages. ”There we sat in the storeroom waiting for you to call us, and the first thing we knew we saw you pelting off down the hill like mad things.”

”My gracious!” said a very stout Cabbage, who was terribly out of breath, ”I'll have to take off my outer leaves before I go another step.

I feel as though I were boiled.”

Antone recognized the Cabbages at once. ”You are Father Minette's cabbages, are you not?” he inquired politely as they marched along.

”Why, if it isn't little Antone, the woodcutter's son!” exclaimed the very stout Cabbage. ”Yes, we come from Minette's farm. Mother Minette saved us for pickle, but we fooled her and slipped out of the storeroom when she was not looking. Oh, we Cabbages are not so green as we look!”

The Cabbages all laughed, and Antone was surprised to find that he laughed too.

As they went marching on, Pumpkin sang and danced in the lead, and Onions and Carrots echoed his hearty songs. Presently great black cats with s.h.i.+ning yellow eyes stepped from behind the trees, and each cat was soon joined by its mistress, who was no other than a real witch in tall peaked hat and carrying a broomstick. The Cabbages, who were a friendly lot, introduced Antone and Babette to these witches, and the witches seemed pleased to meet the children.

”They do not seem to be wicked witches, do they, Antone?” whispered Babette.

”Oh, my dear,” replied a witch who overheard, ”we are not a bit wicked on Halloween, you know. Any other night, I would probably do you a mischief. It is my nature, you know.” She reached in her bag and handed Babette a peppermint. Babette, who was very fond of peppermint, ate it up with all haste.

”You shouldn't do that, my dear,” reproved the witch. ”It is seldom witches give peppermints, and when they do the peppermints should be treasured. Here is another to keep for your pocket, and then you will never be without a peppermint when you want one.” And she handed Babette another. Babette curtseyed so prettily that the witch was charmed and took her to ride on her broomstick.

It was the gayest company one ever could imagine, as they marched along.

Every vegetable was singing a different Halloween song in a different key, and they all had voices that sang out of tune by nature. Babette, her little white nightdress flying in the breeze, was riding on the witch's broomstick and singing loudly as the rest. When they reached the dancing-floor it was lighted with millions and millions of glowworms, and an orchestra of ten thousand frogs hummed lively tunes in their throats. Pumpkin seized a handful of glowworms and put them in his head.

Then with his features all aglow he cried out:

”Ready for the dance!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: It was the gayest company one ever could imagine, as they marched along.--_Page 262._]

Instead of taking partners, the vegetables just plunged on to the floor and began to jump about like mad. If they fell down they did not jump up at once but rolled around the floor most good-naturedly. They looked so like vegetables boiling about in a great soup kettle that Antone thought he should die of laughing. The witches took their brooms and began a sort of ”ladies-change” figure while they chased their cats around the edge of the circle. Babette danced hardest of all. She knew no more of dancing than any Carrot or Parsnip, but she capered wildly, singing at the top of her voice.

”Come and dance too, Antone,” called Babette, as she went jumping past her brother, but he shook his head and laughed.

”I am too big for such nonsense,” said he. ”I am ten, you know.”

”What nonsense!” cried a witch who was chasing her cat close by. ”Ten is exactly the right age to have fun.” She raised her broom playfully, and before he knew it, she swept Antone into the middle of the dance.

Pumpkin, his grinning features all aglow, went flying past and made Antone feel proud. Pumpkin was certainly the handsomest vegetable of the lot. As the night grew later, the frogs hummed faster, but hum as fast as they would, they could not keep up with the frisky vegetables. Beets and Cauliflowers continued to bob up and down like mad; Cabbages from Minette's farm lost leaf after leaf; Carrots and Onions grew battered from much tumbling about, and the merry din of song and laughter grew louder and louder.

”Let's play Blind Man's Buff,” called Antone. ”I'll be 'it' and show you how to play.” He tied the handkerchief over his eyes, and the witches and their black cats went darting hither and thither. The vegetables were so pleased with this new game that they would play nothing else.

They might have been playing it yet had not a c.o.c.k crowed suddenly.

”Good gracious me!” cried a witch. ”The glowworms are all gone out. It's nearly morning. All who are going back to the vegetable patch had best be on their way.”