"Follow me! Follow me!" sang Pumpkin, as he led the way to a tiny door that opened beneath the forest. Turnips and Carrots squeezed through, and Antone, fearing to be left behind, caught up Babette and ran faster. Just as he reached the little door, a rough Potato tried to slam it in his face. But Antone was too quick for him. He ran through and climbed down the hole into the underground forest. There he continued the chase, but the ground here was springy and elastic, and with each step Antone began to gain on the vegetables. Babette's fatigue left her, and she shook herself free of Antone's hand.
"We'll catch up to them," declared Antone as they ran along. Even as he spoke, Potato stubbed his toe, and Babette caught him. She held him firmly, although he squirmed and tried his best to get free.
"Help! Help!" bawled Potato, when he saw he was a prisoner. "Oh, Pumpkin, wait for me!" he cried. The tears streamed from every one of his eyes, and he looked truly sad. At his cries Pumpkin turned around, and all the vegetables followed their leader.
"Come now, Antone," began Pumpkin in a persuasive voice. "You might let us have one night off, you know. Halloween is our night." Somewhere on his run, Pumpkin had picked up two twigs, and on these he now balanced himself rather unsteadily and thrust his leaves in the place where his pockets would have been if he had had pockets. He looked so very jolly and his grin was so very broad that Antone was inclined to give up the prisoner; but just then he thought of the ruined vegetable garden and grew angry again.
"It is all very well for you to be polite, Pumpkin, and try to beg off your friend," said Antone, "but this is the very fellow that tried to slam the door in my face not two seconds ago."
"Oh, Antone," cried Potato, "that's wrong. It was three seconds ago as true as I live. I looked at my watch just as I was trying to pinch your nose in the underground door, and it's quite three seconds ago; maybe it's four."
"Oh, hush up!" cried Pumpkin. "That's no way to talk when you are trying to beg off. Let him off for my sake, Antone," he continued in a most winning voice. "You'd get everlastingly tired of being in bed yourself; you know you would. See if you wouldn't take the first chance to kick up your heels if you could get it."
"But, Pumpkin," replied Antone, "think of my vegetable garden; it is ruined. I was saving all my vegetable money to go to school, and now I cannot go for ever and ever so long. Besides, how could I know you got tired of being in a bed? You never spoke to me before."
"Well, I speak to you now," replied Pumpkin, "and as for your vegetable patch, we'll all make that up to you, won't we, boys?"
"We will! We will!" called the vegetables in chorus, and the Potato in Babette's little fist yelled the loudest of all.