A murmur went over the barn, but it wasn’t a murmur of objection; it sounded more like admiration.

“That’s a fine costume!” said the ghost in Elizabeth Ann’s ear. “I’m glad he gets the prize. Roger Calendar is a mighty nice fellow.”

But Catherine was talking in a low tone to her aunt and her face was an angry red. Elizabeth Ann couldn’t hear what was said, but Doris, who was much nearer, could and she told her after they were in bed that night.

“Catherine’s Aunt Nan told her that if she made a scene before the others at the party, she would make her go in the house and stay there,” reported Doris. “She said that Roger had won the prize fairly, and that he was Catherine’s guest and she had to be polite to him. And she told her that if she didn’t take the prize to him and congratulate him on winning it, she would have to go in the house, anyway.”

So a few minutes later, the boys and girls saw Catherine, her face still red, walking up to Roger and hold out the box he had won.

“I congratulate you on winning first prize,” said Catherine jerkily, “and I hope you like your prize.”

Roger did not offer to take the box.

“Are you willing for me to have it?” he asked in a low voice.

Catherine nodded and Aunt Nan spoke up briskly.

“Take it, Roger,” she directed. “We haven’t voted for the funniest costume yet—children, who wins the prize for the funniest costume, girl or boy?”

Then Elizabeth Ann was surprised again. For all the children shouted—and the ghost most loudly of all—“Give it to the two black cats!”

Aunt Nan laughed and asked the two black cats to please come forward. “You’ll have to share your prize,” she said, “We didn’t expect to have two winners.”

Doris was too shy to stir, so Elizabeth Ann had to go forward. She made a funny little curtsey as she took the box and everyone clapped for her. And the minute she took her place in the line, the ghost whispered—“Take off your mask—you’re not Mattie Harrison. I never saw Mattie make a curtsey.”

“Yes, take off your masks—all of you now,” said Aunt Nan. “We’re going to play games.”

Elizabeth Ann had to laugh when the ghost saw her face. He stared—he was Jim Bennett, one of the boys in her class.

“And I was so sure you were Mattie Harrison!” he ejaculated. “You’re about as tall as she is—there’s Mattie over there; she came as a gypsy girl.”

Elizabeth Ann opened the prize—it was a beautiful box of candy and she and Doris agreed that there couldn’t be a nicer box for two prize winners to share.

Roger had won a writing set—pen and pencil that matched. They were black and gold, and Roger—who had never had anything as nice in his life—was so pleased Elizabeth Ann thought surely Catherine would be glad he had won them.

But Catherine continued to be cross. She was so cross that her Aunt Nan was afraid she would spoil the party, and so allowed her to keep the prize she had won—a pen and pencil set, too—but for a girl. Aunt Nan said no hostess should win the prize at her own party, but Catherine was quite capable of sitting down and crying if she didn’t get her way, and that, of course, would be worse than letting her have the prize. If you can think of anything worse than a hostess crying at her own party, why we can not.

They played all the good old Hallowe’en games—ducking for apples, and trying to find the ring in a plate of flour and sailing walnut shell boats in the tub of water to see which sank and which stayed up. They threw apple peelings over their shoulders to see what initials were formed and they walked backwards with mirrors to see what they could see—and it must be admitted that most of them didn’t see anything at all.

Then, just as Mattie Harrison suggested they might have another Virginia Reel—she said she wanted to hear Roger Calendar play again—there was a noise and clatter at the barn door that drew their attention to something just coming in.

“A witch!” shrieked the children. “It’s a witch.”

Goodness, it was a witch. She came in on her broomstick, her long wisps of white hair floating out from under her tall black hat. There was a light on the end of her broomstick and one of the boys whispered he supposed that was in case the traffic was heavy in the sky as she rode along.

“That’s exactly what I use that light for, young man,” croaked the witch, who certainly sounded as though she needed a cough drop. “On Hallowe’en, the sky is so full of witches it’s all we can do to find our way around without a collision. What are you doing here? Having a party?”

The children nodded. They weren’t quite sure how to talk to a witch, and it seemed safer just to nod their heads.

“A party, eh?” said the witch. “Well—well. How would you like to come to my cave? I’ll have a party for you there, if you’ll come.”

“We don’t know where you live,” said Elizabeth Ann, as no one answered.

“Oh, I can tell you how to get to my cave,” the witch croaked.

“Shall we go?” whispered Elizabeth Ann to Catherine.

“Might as well,” Catherine said, who was evidently as surprised to see a witch at her party as the other children were.

“I can’t go with you, because I ride through the sky, and will get there ahead of you,” said the witch. “But you take these little rolls of silk I give you—one roll for each boy and girl—and follow them. You’ll find my cave without a bit of trouble.”

She brushed aside a few corn stalks and there, in a little mound lay a heap of what looked like bobbins of silk. They were each a different color. “Stand in two lines,” said the witch, picking up the bobbins, “girls in one line, boys in the other. That’s right.”

Roger Calendar slipped into place beside Elizabeth Ann.

“Let me wind the silk for you,” he said in a low voice. “It’s something like the old game of spider web, I think. If you look along the floor you can see threads going in different directions.”

Elizabeth Ann looked, while the witch was passing down the line, handing each boy a bobbin.

“Yes,” whispered Elizabeth Ann. “I see the threads. Isn’t this fun!”

“Now then, each of you count eleven as loudly as you can,” said the witch, picking up her broomstick. “When you have counted to eleven, start to wind your silk. I’ll be waiting for you in my cave.”

With a wave of her hand, she clattered out.

“One-two-three-four——” the counting began in the barn.

As they reached the number “ELEVEN!” the boys began to wind the silk. “All right, we’re ready,” said Roger to Elizabeth Ann. “I thought this was a spider web. See, we’re going under the wagon.”

Elizabeth Ann glanced back to see whether Doris was happy. She saw that Jim Bennett was her partner. Jim would talk so much that Doris wouldn’t have to say many words, and that would make her happy. Doris liked to talk to Elizabeth Ann, but she didn’t have much to say when she was at a party.

The silk cord Roger was winding led him and Elizabeth Ann under the heavy farm wagon, standing in one corner of the barn. It led them through an empty box stall. It took them across the barn yard and around a tree—a beautiful silver moon was shining in the sky and Elizabeth Ann found herself wishing that she could ride a broomstick—just once—across the sky and see how the moon looks when one is near it.

On all sides of them they heard laughing and talking, for the cords were wound in and out, and some of them crossed. At about the same time everyone reached the farmhouse door—the kitchen door Elizabeth Ann knew it was, because she had often been in the Gould kitchen.

But when the kitchen door opened for them—someone must have seen them coming—lo and behold the kitchen was a cave. It looked just like a cave, and there was a great iron pot over the fire in the fire place and the witch sat there, waiting for them.

The fathers and mothers and aunts and uncles were there, too, and everyone sat down at a long table and drank the hot cocoa the witch had ready for them and ate brown bread sandwiches and sugary doughnuts. There was a toy pumpkin filled with salted peanuts for each guest and after they had finished eating Uncle Hiram said it was high time mortals went to bed so the bats and the owls and the black cats could have their parties.

“We’ll take you home, Roger,” Elizabeth Ann heard him say, and when she climbed sleepily into the car a few minutes later, Roger was on the front seat with Uncle Hiram.

“I’m glad to-morrow is Saturday,” murmured Elizabeth Ann. “We won’t have to get up in time to go to school.”