No relation to Trixie Belden's group of friends, here is the original Hallowe'en celebration, complete with pranks and fortune-telling. Today we would call what the boys were planning "vandalism" and they would surely be arrested, but back then it was just part of the "fun" of Hallowe'en night. Like the establishment of the later trick-or-treat custom, our protagonist finds a way to curb the holiday's excessesMischief was brewing! You could fairly sniff it in the frosty air.
For days before Hallowe'en, groups of boys were seen in close conference, and occasional shouts of laughter floated down the village street.
Early one Saturday morning the girls of the village were in the woods gathering nuts. As they filled their baskets to the accompaniment of the usual chatter, they were suddenly interrupted by wild bursts of laughter and snatches of talk.
"Oh, Miss Ellen—we 'll scare her stiff as usual with a tick-tack. And old man Johnson—he 'll wish he 'd never been born when he finds his woodshed empty! And the bake-shop ladies! Oh my! we won't do a thing to them!"
"We 'll have a picnic in the barn with their apple pie and gingerbread; and incidentally, let 's carry their bakery stuff in next door to S'manthy Green's, and put her notions in for the bake ladies; let them keep a thread-and-needle shop for a change. We can get in easy as anything."
"I 'd like to see their faces when they come in the next morning!"
"Then we 'll write on all the windows with candles. It's awful hard to get off, and every body 'll be mad as anything!"
"We 'll throw every gate into the hollow, and change the doctors' signs."
"Wo n't Abigail Smith gasp when she finds the veterinary surgeon's sign at her door! She 's even skeered of a mouse. Let's catch some, and knock at her door, and, when she opens it, throw 'em in."
"Ha! ha! That will be our busy night!"
And as the boys passed on, they sang lustily:
"Needles and pins, needles and pins !
When Hallowe'en comes, your trouble begins!"
The girls, well screened by the underbrush, stood staring after them, appalled and speechless.
As the chorus died away, the clear sweet notes of "Bob White" twittered and chirped, and the girls clapped their hands in great relief, crying, "The Story Lady! Good! Good!"
"My, what a warm welcome!" exclaimed the adored one, as she stood before them clad in her khaki suit, her clear eyes twinkling merrily under the brown hat-brim. A perky red feather, nestling close to the crown, gave a needed touch of color to the close-fitting suit, and the girls gazed at her with admiring eyes.
"Holloa, wood-nymphs!" she cried. "Have the squirrels stolen your nuts, that you look so glum? Come, tell me your troubles and see if we can't banish them."
Seated at her feet, the girls breathlessly related all they had heard, and ended mournfully:
"Why do boys always want to do such horrid things? Miss Ellen is a sweet little old lady. She lives all alone and is so afraid at night!"
"Old Mr. Johnson just got in his winter wood. He never could get it back from the hollow."
"The bakc-shop ladies are so bright and cheery: though they 're so poor, they always give us one over when we ask for a dozen. They just laugh and say it's for good measure."
"It 'll just ruin S'manthy Green's notions the way they'll tumble them about; and the candle-writing—it's just terrible to scour off, and no one has time. Every one has finished house-cleaning, and they 're doing fall work—drying apples and making apple-butter and cider."
As this doleful chorus closed, the Story Lady threw back her head, and her merry laughter echoed and reechoed through the woods.
"Oh, my dearies!" she finally said, "the hobgoblins seems to have got hold of you long before the night. Don't you know Hallowe'en is the jolliest night of all the year—a night to remember for its good fun, not for bad; to look forward to with joy, not dread? Has it always been celebrated this way here?"
"Oh, yes; it is always scary and dreadful."
"Why don't you girls start out and have the right kind of fun?"
"We tried to once; but the boys are so strong they tossed us about like bean-bags, and carried us to our homes and told us they 'd lock us in a barn if they found us out again."
"What were you going to do?"
"Oh, we were undoing their bad work. We washed the windows, and put the gates back, and comforted Miss Ellen."
"Bless your little hearts! That was surely good work, but of course not what the boys wanted. Some one should have made them do that. It would have been a picture to see them washing windows! Why did n't you try it?"
"Oh, the boys say no one can stop them Hallowe'en. They say there 's a law about it. Everybody 's afraid of them that night."
Again the Story Lady's merry laugh bubbled up into the trees. Then she queried: "A Fraid? What is A Fraid, anyhow? Did you ever see one? I think we 'll have to down this creature, whatever it is. S'pose we celebrate.
"Let me tell you a little bit about Hallowe'en:
"In olden times it was the night when magic powers were supposed to swarm abroad to help or injure. A hallowe'en fire was supposed to protest the people from all evil.
"The early inhabitants of Great Britain, Ireland, and France were known as Celts. Their religion was directed by strange priests, called Druids. Three times a year—the first of May, for sowing; June twenty-first for ripening at the turn of the year; and the eve of November first for harvesting—the Druids built fires on hilltops in France, Britain, and Ireland in honor of the sun. You see, the sun did the work and brought them crops. At the last festival, Druids of all regions, clad in white robes, gathered around the cairn of the hilltop. There stood an emblem of the sun. On the cairn was a sacred fire, which had been kept burning all the year. They formed about the fire and, at a signal, quenches it, while deep silence rested on mountain-top and valley.
"Then the new fire gleamed on the cairn, and the people in the valley raised a jouous shout, and from hilltop to hilltop other fires answered the sacred flame.
"On this night all hearth-fires had been put out and were kindled anew with brands from the sacred fire, which was supposed to guard the households through the year.
"There! I learned that by heart once, and I've never forgotten it! I love to know what those people thought.
"Now, children, from the hilltop where I live I can see many hilltops; and we, too, can have hilltop fires which mean something. I am so glad I did n't go home. I came only for the summer, but I loved it so I wanted to stay on. Best of all, I have reveled in our story-hour, and I shall be sorry to give it up. But don't let the shadows creep over your faces that way, dearies; you know I promised to send you a story every week, and I 'm coming early in the spring and help hunt violets and pick wild strawberries.
"Now, let's think a little more about Hallowe'en. You know on that night not a village in New England but has its circle of fairies. Hobgoblins run wild. It is a time of frolic with the brownies, who hide in the acorns and dried leaves. The sprites who dwell in pop-corn, and the pixies who live in the chestnuts. Let us, too, be fairies and have the grandest night of all the year!"
"But how can we?" queried the girls. "The boys go so fast and are so much bigger, they will pick us up again and lock us in the barn the instant they see us; we're afraid!"
"A Fraid! Dear, dear! A lot of little Fraids sitting in the woods all huddled up in a heap. The boys have much more fun on that account. If no one was afraid of them, it would spoil all their fun. Let's show them we 're not afraid. We, too, will have a busy night. If the boys go fast, we will go faster. If they are big, we'll be bigger. This seems to be 'Fraid' village on that night. Let's have a new order of things. Instead of the village being housed, peering out behind locked windows and doors, timid and frightened over what may happen, the boys will find open doors, signs already changed in a new way, and, mark my words, there won't be a word written on a window-pane."
At this glorious news the girls shouted and danced gaily about. Such a wonderful person was this Story Lady! Many times had she helped them out of trouble, but never in so splendid a way as this.
"Won't they be mad!" cried one.
"Indeed not," replied the Story Lady. "The boys do not really want to be bad; they want to have some fun. Let us give them the right kind. We have only a short time to prepare for this grand event, so we must begin at once. We 'll be a band of brownies or Bob Whites, whichever you choose. Meet me here at four this afternoon. Good-by." And as she disappeared, her merry whistle floated back, a veritable chorus of bird- notes, leaving the girls thrilled through and through over the joyful time to come.
Four o'clock found them ready and waiting as the Bob White notes again trilled in their ears, and in a moment, there stood their beloved, beaming upon them, crying:
"Oh, girls! it's even better than I thought it would be. I 've been to the sewing society. Every one was there, and all so mournful. The bake-shop ladies were almost in tears. Little Miss Ellen's nose was red from crying, and Samanthy Green just knows the boys have planned some awful pranks against her thread and needles. The men came in to dinner. They 'd been asked to come and see what could be done about this awful night! Suddenly I hopped on to a chair. I 'm so little I had to, to be seen. I made a speech. I had them all laughing, the first thing. They decided to take my advice and not bar windows nor chain gates. The Fraids have vanished, and the 'Non-fraids' closed the meeting by singing 'Hold the Fort!' They are so happy and want to help at the party, and a rollicking time we will have. The people at the Hill Farm, where I live, entered right in to it, and will let us do anything we want to in their lovely big house.
"Now, girlies, 'mum' is the password of this Bob White band. Let it be a secret from the boys, and it will be a perfect success."
Early in the evening of the thirty-first of October the boys gathered in Billy Brown's barn. They seemed in an odd state of excitement. One cried uneasily:
"It's queer how the people act to-night! The gates are creaking in the wind, instead of being padlocked and chained; and that woman we were going to tick-tack has one all fixed and was working it like mad as I came by; and old Johnson's woodshed is empty. Nothing much left to do but dress up the bake-shop windows in S'manthy Green's book-muslin. Come on!"
And singing lustily,
"Needles and pins, needles and pins!
When Hallowe'en comes, your trouble begins,"
away they went.
Usually this well-known chorus, sung to the tread of many feet, struck terror to all hearts; and the boys gloried in the fact.
As they paused at the needle shop, they looked amazed to find cookies and pies sparkling in the soft glow of a lamp.
A glance at the sign showed them the one word "Welcome," instead of "Samanthy Green, Notions."
Next door the same warm greeting awaited them; and in that window reposed needles and pins daintily arranged.
"The dickens!" cried one. "I'll settle them!" and he started to write on the window; when suddenly against the pane was thrust a rifle.
They scampered on, and to their great chagrin found the villagers were all in various windows, fondling guns.
"Well!" cried the leader, "let's muffle the fire-bell."
That was a new and daring thing to do, but nothing was too bad, now that they seemed balked at every turn.
As they marched away from the engine-house, such a din arose all about them they surely were the "Fraids" for a moment, for they seemed surrounded by dozens of tall beings, gowned in black, waving plumes of fires. At once the boys were encircles and forced to march to the outskirts of the town, where they saw, to their horror, the hilltop ablaze.
The Hill Far, the price of the village, on fire, and the fire-bell muffled!
With a wild cry all started up the hill, all but one who raced back, and soon the fire-bell was madly clanging; but strange to say, there was no response.
"Oh! They think it 's a Hallowe'en prank!" wailed the boy, as he sped up the hill crying, "Fire! Fire!"
He caught up to the weird crowd as they paused and pointed off to many hilltop fires, then marched on to the rousing chorus of:
"Needles and pins, needles and pins!
When Hallowe'en comes, the fun begins."
As they reached the top of the hill they saw Jack-o'-lanterns grinning at them from every window of the farm-house, while the bonfire crackled merrily at a point far away. On the broad piazza the weird figures fell to the floor as the various villagers emerged from dressed-up brooms.
Then followed a rollicking dance to the music of the village fiddlers. The boys found themselves paired off with the bake-shop ladies, Miss Ellen, and many others. Abigail Smith wildly waved by the tail a chocolate mouse, which she nibbled as she danced.
After this came refreshments; and then, around the bonfire, some cracked nuts and popped corn, while others peered into the future pouring melted lead through a wedding-ring, watching nuts burn in hot ashes, and doing many other odd tricks. Then, when the fun died down the Story Lady clapped her hands for attention.
Mounting a box, standing in the gleam of the firelight, she told them of the olden-time thought of Hallowe'en, of the superstitions, and the hilltop fires which were supposed to give protection through the year. Then she went on:
"The Scotch say it is the jolliest, fearsomest night of all the year; and we, the Bob White Band, decided to have hilltop fires, too, and celebrate Hallowe'en each year as we have to-night. All who want to belong to this band may let us know by whistling our Bob White signal; one, two, three, pucker!" And the shrill notes that followed settled the question.
The Bob White Band was, and always would be; and with a shout of delight they joined hands and circled about the fire, singing joyfully:
Needles and pins, needles and pins!
When Hallowe'en comes, the fun begins."
No comments:
Post a Comment