They gave him a seat of honor, not _by_ the table, but _on_
it, right in the centre. Marmaduke climbed up and looked down into the
big hole in the top of his head. In it was a thick candle, dancing
inside his old yellow skull, and he seemed a good comrade, that Ole
Man Pumpkin.

But what was the Toyman doing now?

He had a tub in his arms. He set it down, filled it with water, then
popped three red apples in it.

And the children got down on their knees around the tub and tried to
take the apples in their teeth. But round and round they bobbed, so
fast that it was difficult to catch them.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Jehosophat;

"Kerchoo!" sneezed Marmaduke;

"Guhuh!" coughed Hepzebiah, all their eyes and their mouths, noses and
tummies, too, full of water. And always those little red apples bobbed
out of reach. Once Jehosophat thought he had caught one, but his teeth
slipped on its smooth round cheek and all he got was a piece of skin.
It was fun just the same.

A lot of other games they played, with flour, and candles, and rings,
and things, then the Toyman gathered them up on his knees and the arm
of his chair, and told them a story. A good one? Of course! He
_never_ told a poor one.