"WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock, | |
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock, | |
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, | |
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; | |
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best, | |
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest, | |
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock, | |
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock." |
James Whitcomb Riley.
Still no hard frost, but the pumpkins are carved and waiting for the Evil Night of dread and terror when the children take the streets in search of candy. |
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