"Enough!" It was the two Corn Soldiers who spoke, and Jehosophat was
dragged from the Pond. He was dripping wet and he felt pretty cold in
his pajamas.

"Now it's my turn," said Ole Man Pumpkin. "Take him to the workshop,
there's a lot of sharp tools there."

Tools! Whatever could they be going to do with him now! But he had no
time to think, for there they were, all bumping, or rolling, or
stalking along, to the workshop, and taking him with them. They had no
keys, but they managed to enter just the same.

"On the table--come, up with him!"

And immediately the two Corn Soldiers siezed him by the arms and
hoisted him on the table, where he sat in his little pajamas, like a
tailor, with his knees crossed under him. But what was the idea? What
was that Ole Man Pumpkin telling the Corn Soldiers?

"Just cut a little hole in the top of his head--just enough to scoop
out his insides. Quick work, or he'll spoil."

"Save the drumstick for me," gobbled Mr. Stuck-up, "they didn't bother
me much on Hallowe'en, but I'm going to get even for Thanksgiving."

And all the time the Little Red Apples rolled around the floor in high
glee; and the Shiny Pie Pans danced against each other, making a noise
like the cymbals of the Salvation Army parade; and Ole Man Pumpkin
kept sharpening and sharpening his knife.