"Don't pick me. Don't choose me," thought the pumpkin, as he lay there in his pumpkin patch, all nice and plump, so plump he might even be called a plumpkin. How pumpkins like him hated this time of year--the same thing each year, a good many of them being picked, carved, and then a candle placed inside them, while they had to sit out all night long just when the weather was beginning to get chilly.

He hoped he would be passed over. No such luck. He soon felt four cold, unmittened hands hoist him up and remove him from his vine.

"Hey," he thought, "that vine is how I get my food and water!" His tummy started to growl and he started to get thirsty.

Then the two children who had picked him up followed their mom back to their car and plunked him in the trunk and drove away. "It's dark in here," thought the plump pumpkin. After a little while the car stopped. The children got him out of the trunk and carried him into the house and out to the back patio, where he slept the night away and thought of his friends, all the other pumpkins.

He awoke the next morning and was glad when he heard the two kids clatter off to school, the mother to her work. Hours passed. He sat there, rolled around a little when he felt like it.

All too soon the mother and her noisy children were back. They carried him into the kitchen and set him up on the counter. Then the mother took a carving knife from a drawer and began to cut an opening in the top of the plump pumpkin.

It wasn't long before Mom was removing all the pumpkin's insides.

"Hey, that's me in there!" thought the pumpkin. "Watch what you're doing!"

Then the mother began to carve some eyes. "Hey, I can see!" thought the pumpkin. "Isn't this lady pretty!"

Next she carved a nose. "Hey, I can smell!" thought the pumpkin. "This lady carving on me sure does have on some nice perfume."

Then she carved a big frown for a mouth. "Hey," thought the pumpkin, "I can smile!" And he did, changing his frown into a big grin.

Last of all the mother put a lit candle inside the pumpkin. "Hey," thought the pumpkin, "that feels nice and warm, kind of snug on a chilly night like this. Maybe Halloween isn't so bad for us pumpkins after all."
"The Pumpkin Carving Book"
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