SCENE I

[_In the woods._]

OCTOBER:

I am October, my fruits are mellow, My autumn leaves are red and yellow? I am October, my voice you hear On Hallowe’en, the fall of the year.

WITCH:

Same old jokes on Hallowe’en, Same old pumpkins too are seen; October, with your skies so blue, Can’t you think up something _new_?

OCTOBER:

By my side old Witch please stay, And we’ll enact a little play; Pomona, goddess of fruits, I’ll call, And she will entertain us all. Vertumnus, too, I’ll conjure here, The god he is, of the turning year!

WITCH:

Ha, ha, the story I remember, He comes long before November; Though many shapes he takes to woo her, Nothing ever seems to do her Until he dons a gossip’s shoes, For truly, she is fond of news!

OCTOBER:

Her attendants we’ll call without delay, For Pomona now is on her way.

[_A Trumpeter appears and blows his horn, each time before a fruit or group of fruits enter._]

APPLES:

Apples rosy, Apples red, See us nodding overhead; Apples rosy, round and sweet, Everywhere are good to eat.

[_Dance around in couples, and line up at back of stage._]

PEARS:

We are Pears, so very shy, Scarcely nodding to passersby; As we heard Pomona call, We’ll do her honor one and all.

[_Dance in a circle, and line up beside Apples._]

BANANAS:

We’re Bananas, spick and spandy, And you always find us handy; Ripe Bananas are so sweet, You will find us quite a treat.

[_Bow to partners, circle round each other, and line up at back._]

GRAPES:

Purple Grapes, in early fall, We have heard Pomona’s call; And we come in late October, For the summer hours are over.

[_Join hands, skip forward and back, line up at back. Child enters with Horn of Plenty, they circle, around her, singing._]

Tune: “Coming Through the Rye.”

To the woodland we are going Late on Hallowe’en, We’ve no other way of knowing What strange sights are seen; But we bring the Horn of Plenty At this time of year, And a festival we’re keeping, For Pomona’s here.

[_Pomona enters, and is seated at right; the fruits in turn go to her and bow, and the child offers her the Horn of Plenty. Many suitors now come bowing to her in turn; they offer her fall fruits and flowers and gifts, carrying them in baskets or on trays; the Knave of Hearts even comes offering her his tarts, and Simple Simon offers her a pie. Last of all comes Vertumnus, he is larger and more powerful than the rest; he simply offers her an enormous red pasteboard heart._]

VERTUMNUS:

Vertumnus, the god of the turning year, I come, Pomona, behold me here; Offerings are made to me in Rome, Will you share my fortunes? Pomona, come.

[_Pomona waves him away with the rest of the company, and the curtain falls._]