“Oh, goody!” exclaimed the boy named Billy. Hallowe’en “What are you going to do with that monstrous pumpkin, Billy Boy,” asked Big Sister, one crisp autumn day. “Going to make a Jack O’Lantern of it,” said the boy named Billy. “Somebody, why do we dress up and make believe we’re a lot of witches on Hallowe’en when we know there is nothing like that in the world?” “All Hallow Eve,” said Somebody, “is the name given to the vigil of Hallowmas, which falls on the night before the Feast of All Saints Day. The Ancients lighted bonfires on that night to scare away ghosts and witches. “The Romans had a festival in honor of Pomona, the goddess of fruits, in which apples featured, which accounts for the custom of bobbing for apples in tubs of water, which to this day the young folks think is so much fun.” “That’s all right for girls,” said the boy named Billy, “but regular fellows can find something better to do.” “What, for instance?” asked Big Sister. “Oh, making Jack O’ Lanterns, and playing tricks on other fellows,” said Billy. “I know a fine trick that a lot of husky chaps like you and Bob White and your gang could play on another fellow,” said Somebody. “What is it?” asked Billy. “We’re game for almost anything that you could suggest.” “Old Grandsire Johnson, who lives all alone in that little house at the edge of town, has just had his winter’s coal delivered,” said Somebody. “I think it would be fine if the Hallowe’en spirits would go up there while he is at prayer meeting tonight and put it all in the shed for him.” “Oh, fine,” said the boy named Billy. “I know a bunch of healthy spooks that would just love a little job like that.” About Wolves “Look at this funny old pair of curly-toed skates that I found in that funny old horse-hair trunk in the attic,” said the boy named Billy. “They look like toys, and seem about big enough for little sister. Nobody ever could have really used them to skate with, could they?” “Those skates were your great-grandmother Ellen’s racing skates,” said Somebody, “and if they had not been rather practical and not at all the toys they look, in comparison with the ones in use now, you would not be here this afternoon.” “Why?” demanded the boy named Billy, sensing a story. “Your great-grandmother Ellen,” said Somebody, “was considered to have been the most expert skater, the most fearless rider, and the most popular young lady in the section of the country where she grew up, and on the day of which I am speaking, she had one of the most thrilling adventures ever staged anywhere, not excepting the movies.” [Illustration: TIMBER-WOLF!] “A _really-so story_!” exclaimed the boy named Billy, “and in the family, too!” “It was many, many years ago,” said Somebody, “and happened away up in the wilds of Maine, where your great-great-grandfather lived with his family on the farm which he had taken away from the forest.