Reminiscences of Halloween on the Farm

Is ’cause you can’t see when they call.

(Poems for Pale People, by Edwin C. Ranck, 1906)

All Hallows Eve, more popularly known as Halloween, has become nearly as big a holiday as Christmas, at least as far as decorations go. When I was a boy, my younger sister and I would cut pumpkin shapes from orange construction paper and witches from black paper and tape these silhouettes to the windows. Dad always planted pumpkins, so we’d choose one and carve a jack-o-lantern — I can still smell the odor of the candle flame burning the inside of the pumpkin’s lid. Mom would make some fudge and that was it. In the country, with farms spread out, there was no door-to-door trick-or-treating.

The first Halloween of which I have a still vivid memory occurred when I was in 3^rd grade and my sister in first. We came home from school and came in the kitchen door as usual. Oddly, the blinds were pulled, and it was dark, except for a lit jack-o-lantern beside a plate of fudge on the table. And no Mom! Suddenly, from behind the tall old coal kitchen range, we heard a moan and a white and shapeless apparition appeared. Scared to death, we started crying and ran into the living room to hide from that fearful monster. Of course, it was Mom in a bed sheet. She hadn’t meant to frighten us so, thinking that the fudge and pumpkin would tip us off that it was just a harmless prank.

Ghosts, goblins and such, however, were long used by adults to frighten children into good behavior, as in this poem by James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916).

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

                         Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay,

                        An’ wash the cups and saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,

                        An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep,

                        An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board an’ keep;

                        An’ all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,

                        We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun

                        A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ‘at Annie tells about,

                        An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you – Ef you – Don’t – Watch – Out!

                        Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn’t say his prayers,

                        An’ when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,

                        His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him bawl,

                        An’ when they turned the kivvers down, he wuzn’t there at all!

                        An’ they seeked him in the rafter-room, an’ cubby-hole, an’ press,

                        An’ seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an’ ever’-wheres, I guess;

                        But all they ever found wuz thist his pants and roundabout:

                        An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you – Ef you -Don’t – Watch – Out!

                        An’ one time a little girl ‘ud allus laugh an’ grin,

                        An’ make fun of ever’ one, an’ all her blood-an’-kin;

                        An’ wunst, when they wuz “company,” an’ ole folks wuz there,

                        She mocked ’em an’ shocked ’em, an’ said she didn’t care!

                        An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide,

                        They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side,

                        An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ‘fore she knowed what she’s about!

                        An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you – Ef you -Don’t – Watch – Out!

                        An’ little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,

                        An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo!!

                        An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray,

                        An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched away –

                        You better mind yer parunts, an’ yer teachers fond an’ dear,

                        An’ churish them ‘at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear,

                        An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ‘at clusters all about,

                        Er the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you – Ef you – Don’t – Watch – Out!

Today, it’s, “Don’t climb that tree, you’ll fall and get hurt;” “Don’t speak to a stranger, he, or she, might snatch you;” “Don’t ride your bike in the street, or without a helmet;” and on and on. The worst one is, “Watch the kid in the back of the room at school, he may have a gun in his backpack!” I think I’d just as soon have “Gobble-uns” to worry about.

I hope everyone has a happy, safe, and candy-rich All Hallows Eve.

Sam Moore