Joyce did not take her usual walk that afternoon. She spent the time
behind locked doors busy with paste, scissors, and a big muff-box, the
best foundation she could find for a jack-o'-lantern. First she covered
the box with white paper and cut a hideous face in one side,--great
staring eyes, and a frightful grinning mouth. With a bit of wire she
fastened a candle inside and shut down the lid.

"Looks too much like a box yet," she said, after a critical examination.
"It needs some hair and a beard. Wonder what I can make it of." She
glanced all around the room for a suggestion, and then closed her eyes
to think. Finally she went over to her bed, and, turning the covers
back from one corner, began ripping a seam in the mattress. When the
opening was wide enough she put in her thumb and finger and pulled out a
handful of the curled hair. "I can easily put it back when I have used
it, and sew up the hole in the mattress," she said to her conscience.
"My! This is exactly what I needed." The hair was mixed, white and
black, coarse and curly as a negro's wool.

She covered the top of the pasteboard head with it, and was so pleased
that she added long beard and fierce mustache to the already hideous
mouth. When that was all done she took it into a dark closet and lighted
the candle. The monster's head glared at her from the depth of the
closet, and she skipped back and forth in front of it, wringing her
hands in delight.

"Oh, if Jack could only see it! If he could only see it!" she kept
exclaiming. "It is better than any pumpkin head we ever made, and scary
enough to throw old Brossard into a fit. I can hardly wait until it is
dark enough to go over."