The cares and responsibilities laid upon our brother's shoulders did not
quench his boyish spirits and love of fun. Not Buffalo Bill's! He gave
us a jack-o'-lantern scare once upon a time, which I don't believe any
of us will ever forget. We had never seen that weird species of pumpkin,
and Will embroidered a blood-and-thunder narrative.

"The pumpkins all rise up out of the ground," said he, "on fire, with
the devil's eyes, and their mouths open, like blood-red lions, and grab
you, and go under the earth. You better look out!"

"That ain't so!" all of us little girls cried; "you know it's a fib.
Ain't it, mother?" and we ran as usual to mother.

"Will, you mustn't tell the children such tales. Of course they're just
fibs," said mother.

"So there!" we cried, in triumph. But Will had a "so there" answer for
us a few nights later. We were coming home late one evening, and found
the gate guarded by mad-looking yellow things, all afire, and grinning
hideously like real live men in the moon dropped down from the sky.

"Jack-o'-lanterns!" screamed Eliza, grabbing May by the hand, and
starting to run. I began to say my prayers, of course, and cry for
mother. All at once the heads moved! Even Turk's tail shot between his
legs, and he howled in fright. We saw the devil's eyes, the blood-red
lion's mouths, and all the rest, and set up such a chorus of wild yells
that the whole household rushed to our rescue. While we were panting out
our story, we heard Will snickering behind the door.

"So there, smarties! You'll believe what I tell you next time. You