Helen Davis Phelps, the mother of Vic Phelps, ran a millinery shop in the Proctor Block in Andover Village. She was a 1905 graduate of Proctor Academy and wrote many poems. A framed copy of this one hangs in Vic’s house to this day.

Halloween

by Helen D. Phelps

Four little pumpkins just off the vine,
Patiently waiting for Halloween time.
For some sculptor to carve it a face,
To put eyes and nose and a mouth in its place.

For his smile and his eyes must be shining and bright,
When he joins the children on Halloween night.
So, in place of the seeds that filled up his head,
They placed a light there instead.

Four Jack O’ Lanterns with eyes so bright
Are now ready for Halloween night.
They had a good time with goblins and bums,
Then came the end of their marvelous fun.

So day after day, they sit alone. Their eyes are dull and
Their cheeks sunk in. They wear a frown instead of a grin.
Their brows are furrowed and wrinkled with care.
There’s a hole in each head that shouldn’t be there.

One day a storm came and seeing their plight,
Gave each yellow head a wreath of snowy white.
They sit there alone
And dream of the days that have come and gone.
They argue and argue and the reason why:
He was a pumpkin instead of a pie.

Now it’s four yellow pumpkins feeling rotten.
Knowing well they are forgotten.
Realizing they are in a slump,
Welcome the chance to go to the dump.