Beaumont the cat flicked his tail as he paced back and forth on the window sill. Cool air blew in through the open panes, making the curtains dance around. He shivered a bit, but the chill was inviting. It was the chill of an autumn night. A warmth came from behind, drifting with the smell of wood fire from the hearth in the parlor room behind where Beaumont sat. Soft crackling from the fire joined the symphony of the night, the song of rustling leaves from the great oak that sat outside the window. 

“Sigmund,” Beaumont called, seeing his spider friend swinging down from a branch. “Miss Sally isn’t feeling too well.”

“Oh no,” Sigmund said with a gasp. “But that means that Miss Sally can’t be gettin’ her pun’kins from Mr. Thomas’s pun’kin patch. She’ll be so sad without ‘em!”

“I know. Halloween is surely ruined,” said Beaumont with a sigh. “I hate to see Miss Sally sad.”

Sigmund put his arm to his mandible as he pondered this dilemma. Then he exclaimed, “I know, by golly gee I know! We’ll go get them pun’kins for Miss Sally.”

Beaumont grinned, then grabbed his pointed hat, festive for Halloween, and tossed it up onto his head with a chime of the bell that hung on the end of it. 

“You’re wonderful, my friend. Let’s go save Halloween!” Beaumont cheered as he leapt from the window and scurried down the tree. Sigmund rode on his back as he sprinted down the lane toward Mr. Thomas’s house. 

Under the cover of the night, Beaumont slipped into the pumpkin patch, careful not to make the bell on his hat chime. He hurried to where the biggest, most orange pumpkins he could see were. Sigmund climbed up into a tree to scout out the patch, and Beaumont found a perch atop a rather round pumpkin. 

“Howsabout that one over there, Beaumont?” Sigmund asked as he pointed toward a pristine, practically perfect pumpkin a little distance away. Beaumont looked, then grinned happily. 

“That’s it,” He chimed, looking up at his friend. ‘That’s the one.”

Sigmund swung down from the tree, landing on Beaumont’s hat brim. 

“Then away we go,” said Sigmund.

Beaumont flicked his tail excitedly then took off running. In no time, they had arrived. It was even nicer up close. Beaumont ran in a circle and then jumped in place from his excitement.

“Oh Miss Sally will simply love this one. We’ll save Halloween for sure,” he said as he began to gnaw through the vine. “I’ll just roll this back to Miss Sally’s and surprise her.”

And he did just that. Down the path he went, rolling the pumpkin along until they reached home. By that time, the sun had begun to come up. Beaumont stopped outside the window to Miss Sally’s bedroom, then climbed up with a chiming of his hat and began to meow loudly outside it to get her attention. Sniffling, with her handkerchief clutched in hand, she came to the window and opened it. She was startled to see Beaumont outside, but she laughed and gave him a scratch under the chin when she saw the great pumpkin down on the ground below. She scooped him up, hugging him. He purred, content with the fact that they had accomplished their mission. From Miss Sally’s smiles, they had indeed saved Halloween.