Antone chose a pair of steel skates in the village shop and bought an armful of books for which he had longed. Babette, however, with her usual perverse ways, would have none of the dollies in the village toy shop. They were ugly, she declared, and their cheeks were not pink and beautiful as were the turnip dollies Antone made for her.
And ever after that the woodcutter and his wife were no longer poor folk. They had white bread and even butter every day of their lives, and on Sundays and holidays they had roasted fowl for their dinner. Antone went to school, and Babette had an embroidered frock which was the envy of every child in the village. Their mother no longer sighed as she went about her household tasks, and neither did she strain her eyes making fine laces for market. Instead she rode proudly on the seat of her husband's ox cart when he delivered wood in the village; sometimes she even drank tea with the mayor's wife! Visitors from far and near went to see the famous spot where Antone's vegetables all ran away one Halloween night; and to this day there lives not a man who can make grow on that land cabbages or turnips or any other vegetable, although in a spot in the forest, not far off, cabbages and pumpkins and all such vegetables grow wild.
Each year, as regularly as Halloween came to mark the harvest time, Antone and Babette mounted the broomstick with the witch and rode off to the Halloween frolic. There they always found Pumpkin grown rounder and jollier than the year before, and they always rode home across the sky just as the dawn was breaking. The black cat became so fond of Babette that it never again rejoined its rightful mistress, but remained with the woodcutter and his family and brought them good luck for the rest of their days.