n all such
occasions the spirit of "Free-night" of which George von Hartwig
speaks so enthusiastically in _St. John's Fire_ (page 141).

Hallowe'en parties are the real survival of the ancient merrymakings.
They are prepared for in secret. Guests are not to divulge the fact
that they are invited. Often they come masked, as ghosts or witches.

The decorations make plain the two elements of the festival.
For the centerpiece of the table there may be a hollowed pumpkin,
filled with apples and nuts and other fruits of harvest, or
a pumpkin-chariot drawn by field-mice. So it is clear that this
is a harvest-party, like Pomona's feast. In the coach rides a
witch, representing the other element, of magic and prophecy.
Jack-o'-lanterns, with which the room is lighted, are hollowed
pumpkins with candles inside. The candle-light shines through holes
cut like features. So the lantern becomes a bogy, and is held up at
a window to frighten those inside. Corn-stalks from the garden
stand in clumps about the room. A frieze of witches on broomsticks,
with cats, bats, and owls surmounts the fireplace, perhaps. A full
moon shines over all, and a caldron on a tripod holds fortunes
tied in nut-shells. The prevailing colors are yellow and black: a
deep yellow is the color of most ripe grain and fruit; black stands
for black magic and demoniac influence. Ghosts and skulls and
cross-bones, symbols of death, startle the beholder. Since
Hallowe'en is a time for lovers to learn their fate, hearts and
other sentimental tokens are used to good effect, as the Scotch
lads of Burns's time wore love-knots.

Having marched to the dining-room to the time of a dirge, the
guests find before them plain, hearty fare; doughnuts, gingerbread,
cider, popcorn, apples, and nuts honored by time. The Hallowe'en
cake has held the place of honor since the beginning here in
America. A ring, key, thimble, penny, and button baked in it
foretell respectively speedy marriage, a journey, spinsterhood,
wealth, and bachelorhood.

"Polly was going to be married, Jennie was going on a long
journey, and you--down went the knife against something hard. The
girls crowded round. You had a hurt in your throat, and there,
there, in your slice, was the horrid, hateful, big brass thimble.
It was more than you could bear--soaking, dripping wet, and an
old maid!"

BRADLEY: _Different Party._

[Illustration: A WITCH TABLE.

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