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!"
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 cock crowed suddenly.