Timothy hurried on his way. After all, one piece of candy corn was hardly a full meal. Just a snack, really. Done gobbling it up, the snake might still be hungry.
Soon, Timothy came upon a second piece of candy corn.
"This is my lucky day!" he thought, and picked up the candy with his mouth and took it along with him. "Now I'll be ready in case the snake comes back."
As he hurried along, however, he began to taste the candy. He had read about candy corn in a book about Halloween, but never before had he tasted any. It was so much better than normal corn!
Sometimes, a real adventure is better than a book.
He nibbled it and nibbled it as he walked along.
"Better save some for the snake!" he thought.
But he ignored his thought. By the time the sun was very low on the horizon, he ate the last of his candy corn.
"I sure do hope the snake stays away," he thought, and looked behind him.
Coming up the sidewalk . . .
"Oh, dear!"
Not the snake but . . . ghosts and monsters and witches!
A mummy! A vampire!
Heart thudding, Timothy whirled around and ran.
"Oh why, oh why didn't I stay in the library? This was such a bad idea!"
No matter how fast Timothy ran, the horrible creatures were catching up to him. Closer and closer, talking and laughing. They all carried bags. Some of them even carried flashlights.
"If they light me up," thought Timothy, "they'll chase me down! They'll throw me in a bag with all the other mice they've caught tonight and take me home with them. The vampire will drink my blood. The witch will toss me into her brew! Oh, I'll be bashed and smashed and stirred and they'll fight over who gets to gobble me up first!"
The beam of a flashlight slid toward Timothy, so he leaped off the sidewalk and into the grass.
Though the grass was tall, the horrible creatures were even taller. They were the size of people . . . almost. As they came closer and closer, Timothy crawled under a large, crisp leaf.
"I'll be safe here," he thought.
But he shook with fear as he heard their footsteps and voices and laughter coming closer and closer.
"Oh, don't let them see me! Please don't let them see me! Oh, I should have stayed in the library! What was I thinking!"
Though Timothy had read about such creatures, he'd been pretty sure they were only make-believe. He had never expected to meet them in a nice little town like Elmwood.
"Well," he thought, "it just goes to show that books don't tell everything."
The creatures walked on by and approached a house in the distance. There came the sound of a ringing doorbell. Voices called out, "Trick or treat!"
"Of course!" thought Timothy. "This must be Halloween!"
He'd read books about Halloween. It came once a year, on the last day of October. Each Halloween, children put on costumes and went from door to door, calling "Trick or treat!"
Those horrible creatures hadn't been real. They'd been children dressed for Halloween. Human children, not monsters and ghosts and vampires and witches and mummies and snakes!
"How silly of me to be frightened of them."
And how wonderful that of all the many days and nights of the year Timothy had set out for his great adventure on Halloween!
He suddenly remembered the taste of the candy corn.
"I should go trick-or-treating!" he thought, crawling out from under the leaf.
At the edge of the sidewalk, he looked both ways. Nobody was nearby, so he hopped up and saw that he was not very far from a house. It looked old, dark and a bit creepy. The sight of it gave him mouse-bumps. Then he realized it was silly to be afraid. "I'm a mouse after all---not a chicken."
But then he saw lights glowing in the windows of the next house. Its big picture window was full of Halloween decorations: cardboard witches and black cats and ghosts. Best of all, a Jack-o'-lantern smiled down at Timothy from the porch.
"This is just the house for me," thought Timothy.
On his way to the porch, however, he heard voices and laughter. He glanced over his shoulder.
Here came the trick-or-treaters!
He leaped off the walkway. Hiding in the grass, he watched them.
Timothy got mouse-bumps all over again.
"I hope they are trick-or-treaters," he thought. "Oh, they must be. They have bags for their candy."
He hoped the bags were for candy.
The trick-or-treaters climbed the porch stairs. One lurched past the bright, smiling Jack-o'-lantern and rang the doorbell. Then all of them yelled, "Trick or treat!"
"I knew they were only children," Timothy thought. "I knew it all along."
The door was answered by a woman. Smiling, she said, "Oh, look at your cool costumes. How original!" Then came sounds that sounded very much like candy bumping into other candy . . . candy already at the bottoms of paper bags.
"Cool costumes?---Oh, dear," thought Timothy.
The children said "Thank you." After that, everyone seemed to be saying, "Happy Halloween," and "Thank you" and "Bye!"
Timothy stayed hidden in the grass until the trick-or-treaters were gone. Then he climbed onto the walkway and looked down at himself. All he saw was Timothy Maywood Usher Mouse.
"Oh, what shall I do? I can't go trick-or-treating without a costume! It just isn't done!"
But Timothy was a very smart mouse. He was also well-read and had a good imagination. So instead of giving up, he went to the porch and sat on the bottom stair. "I'll sit here," he decided, "and use my head. That's what it's for, after all. It's not just a hat-rack."
Scratching his head, he thought, "If only I had a hat!"
Any sort of hat would do nicely.
In a baseball cap, he could be a pitcher for the majors.
In a police hat, he could be a cop.
In a beret, an artist.
In a top hat, a magician.
In a fedora, a private eye.
In a ten-gallon hat, a cowpoke.
In a helmet, a soldier.
Sitting there on the stair, Timothy imagined himself in hat after hat after hat.
"But I don't have a hat," he reminded himself. "I don't have a cape, either."
Oh, but if he did have a cape . . . !
Perched on the stair, he pictured himself as a super hero.
as D'Artagnan,
as Zorro,
as Dracula.
"Oh," he thought, "the things you can do with a hat or a cape!"
But he had no hat or cape at all. He had only himself.
"I can't go trick-or-treating as myself. But perhaps I don't need to dress up."
He could simply tap-dance and pretend to be a dancer.
He could act sly and pretend to be a secret agent.
Or stand on his head and pretend to be an upside-down mouse.
"Wait" he thought. "I am a mouse. I don't need to dance or act sly or stand on my head. I'll go trick-or-treating as myself. . . No, wait. That's not done . . . But why not go as a different mouse?
"I'll trick-or-treat as Mickey or Mighty or Jerry or maybe as Stuart Little!"
It seemed like a wonderful idea until Timothy realized that all those mice wore outfits . . . and he had none.
"Ha! I'll say I lost my clothes. Or I borrowed the Emperor's new clothes!"