THE WOODS IN OCTOBER

By Eloise Jarvis McGraw

Author of The Rundelstone of Oz, Merry Go Round in Oz, The Forbidden Fountain of Oz, The Moorchild, etc.

Originally published under her maiden name Eloise Jarvis in Literary Youth, November 1929, Oklahoma City Junior High Schools.

A keen, invigorating breeze sweeps the woods, resplendent in a myriad of gypsy colors, and some waxy, curled leaves swirl to the ground. They lie ankle-deep on the brown  earth, swirling and twirling upward with every gust of fresh October wind. The gentians add a tinge of royal purple to the scene. And in and out through the gaily bedecked trees dances October.

A gypsy maiden, black of hair, scarlet of lip, flings her brown arms up in glee, and laughs at the scolding squirrel above her.

Her black eyes dance and her feet seem to flit over the top of the carpet of golden and red autumn leaves. She spins and twirls and skips like a black and red autumn leaf among the trees, from which she has copied her gaudy scarlet and gold gown. A bunch of red berries are wreathed in her hair, and an aster tucked in her belt. She’s as carefree and beautiful as the splendid woods in which she plays, and the whole world seems to catch some of her gaiety and blytheness in the fall of the year. May it always be so!

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 29, 1918.

Sir Solomon on Skating

Sir Solomon approached the King

With sober face.

“There is a time for everything—

A time and place!

“Your Highness, and

I must admit—

A time and place

I find unfit.

“Take skating,

’Tis a worthy art

And full of thrills

That warm the heart.

“But ’tis unseemly

In some places

And times. Beau Sire,

Your kingdom faces

“A season when

The snow and ice

Forbid a gait

Safe and precise.

“The Highways turn

To skating rinks

Unfit for man

And beast—methinks!

“Skating’s a joyous thing,

Of course,

But unbecoming

In a horse.

“To keep four legs

In motion nice

Upon a highway

Full of ice

“Is quite impossible,

His load

And self oft tumble

In the road.

“Therefore, in time

Let us prepare.

I’ve fashioned shoes

For steeds to wear,

“And for our sundry

Selves and those

Whose gait with time

Unsteady grows!

“Therefore, O King!

I’ve brought them here.”

The King smiled on

His kindly seer.

“Adopted now

Upon the spot,

And let there be

No steed who’s not

“Equipped with safety

Shoes, and all

My subjects who’d

Avoid a fall

“Shall have them too.

Pray let this be

Made forthwith to

A High Decree!”

(So it was—and very sensible I call it.)

Copyright © 2026 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

OLIVER ELEPHANT'S GAME OF BALL

By Ruth Plumly Thompson

Author of The Wishing Horse of Oz, The Curious Cruise of Captain Santa, "The Wizard of Pumperdink," etc.

Originally published in the Hartford Courant, November 10, 1918.

 

 

“I do wish,” grumbled Oliver Elephant, “the other fellows had trunks so I could play cocoanut ball with some one besides the monkeys!”

Uncle Abner Elephant looked up from the Jungle Review and sighed. It was too bad that Oliver Elephant had no big little brothers or sisters to play with and that he was the only little elephant boy in the neighborhood.

“Can’t Tommy Tapir play with you?” he asked mournfully.

“He hasn’t any trunk,” complained Oliver bitterly. “He shoves the cocoanut around with his nose and misses every single throw.”

“Well, why not play with the monkeys?” Uncle Abner wanted to finish his paper in peace.

“The don’t play fair; they run up the trees when they miss and bang me on the head with cocoanuts!” Oliver swung his trunk to and fro in a grieved manner, and Uncle Abner sighed unhappily. As Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Elephant both declared, he spoiled their child to pieces.

Perhaps he did, but then an old bachelor elephant must have something to spoil. Now Uncle Abner reached in his pocket and took out a jungle dime.

“Here, go buy yourself a bag of nuts!”

Oliver brightened up a little at this and started off toward Mr. Brown Bear’s hollow tree shop.

“What makes you so solemn, Oliver?” asked old Uncle Ursus Brown Bear, as he measured out the nuts in a tin cup.

“Nobody to play with!” mumbled Oliver crunching the half dozen nuts in his trunk.

“I’ll play with you!” Johnny Bear bobbed up from behind the counter, but Oliver Elephant only shook his head.

“Too little!” he exclaimed gloomily. “If I’d throw a cocoanut at you it would bowl you over. How could you catch, it, I’d like to know, and then you’d run and tell your ma and she’d tell my ma and what fun would that be?”

So Oliver clumped along crossly chewing nuts and scolding to himself and acting in a way I am ashamed of. That’s the truth. For after all there are lots of things to play besides ball.

Meantime, Uncle Abner Elephant was still worrying.

“Too bad the poor child is so big and all! Too bad!” he muttered, knocking the ashes from his pipe.

Then all at once he gave a whistle and whipping out his penknife he disappeared in the direction of the forest.

When supper time came he rushed in all out of breath with a big package done up in jungle leaves under his arm. No one noticed it. Mr. and Mrs. Oliver were too busy discussing the new Bear family who had just moved into the woods, and Oliver was still sulky.

No one noticed either when Uncle Abner disappeared right after supper nor heard him whistling away for dear life in his room.

Next morning Oliver woke up with the same grieved feeling and with his big cocoanut ball under his trunk came lounging down to breakfast.

He had just about made up his mind to run away to a place where there were more elephant boys and girls.

Breakfast wasn’t quite ready and, as he was determined to have one last meal at home before his big adventure, he went out on the porch to wait.

There in his rocking chair sat Uncle Abner surveying with great pride a set of the finest—well, what do you s’pose?

Tenpins! And each one had a monkey head carved on the top. Oliver had never seen tenpins in his life and he was so surprised that he dropped his ball, which went scurrying down the porch and knocked over eight.

“Fine!” said Uncle Abner.

“Doesn’t this beat playing with live monkeys!”

“See if you can knock ’em all down!”

And Oliver did. They became so interested that Mrs. Oliver Elephant had to drag them in to breakfast. And after that Oliver Elephant played ball by himself and had no end of fun.

But how Uncle Abner came to know about tenpins was this: His half brother had been captured and trained for a circus and one of his special stunts was playing tenpins. In a way which is quite remarkable, but really too long and roundabout to explain, he escaped and returned to the jungle, where he became an authority on many subjects.

I am glad Uncle Abner remembered this game, because I should not have liked Oliver to run away. Should you?

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 22, 1918.

Merrie Christmas in Supposyville

Over each snow-covered

Highway and hill

Goes the Crier of News

In Supposyville.

Sweet through the stillness

His bell tolls its way,

And his voice is as clear

As the chimes on a sleigh.

“Christmas morning! Awake!

Ye good people, awake!”

Then the bells in the towers

The sweet echo take

And toss it aloft—

Back and forth, to and fro,

And lights twinkle down

On the white sparkling snow.

And then in a breath

All the chimes cease their ringing,

And through the soft air

Comes a sudden sweet singing

Of stately old carols

By voices so young,

It seems that from Heaven

Itself they are flung.

Dear and old fashioned—

But that is the way

Supposyville wakens

On sweet Christmas Day.

Though later with stockings

And feastings and fun

They finish the day

They’ve so quaintly begun.

When I think of the carols,

The bells and the rest,

It seems the beginning

Is sweetest and best!

Copyright © 2026 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

DUSK

By Eloise Jarvis McGraw
Author of The Rundelstone of Oz, Merry Go Round in Oz, The Forbidden Fountain of Oz, The Moorchild, etc.

Originally published under her maiden name Eloise Jarvis in Literary Youth, Spring 1930, Oklahoma City Junior High Schools. An editorial note says of the work, “Eloise Jarvis really saw the ‘strange, weird denizens of the forest’ which she pictures here, while on a camping trip in Oregon last summer.”

Dusk! The time when all the strange, weird denizens

Of the shadowy forest

Come out to laugh and play.

The bats, like tiny, winged mice,

The owls, whose questioning “Who? Who? Who?”

Breaks the deepening silence of the calm summer night.

The fireflys, who light from time to time

Wee fairy circles, with their rosy glow.

All dear, friendly enemies

Whose carefree hearts know no foe.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 15, 1918.

Sir Solomon Makes His Christmas List

Sir Solomon Tremendous Wise

Beside his fire sat thinking;

Upon the hearth his faithful cat

All solemnly lay blinking.

The sage’s scientific brow

With furrows deep was knotted.

He held in hand a lengthy scroll

On which at times he jotted.

He’d several blots upon his robe;

His hair in disarray

Stood straight on end, and as he penned,

I heard the old dear say:

“Two peacocks and a pair of gloves,

Three puppies and a sled.

A chain and locket—no—I guess

I’ll get a watch instead!

“What shall I give my cook? Oh, my!

I almost had forgotten

Sir Hubert Herbert Harrington

And Madam Finley Wotten.

“There now, except their Majesties,

The Queen and King, that’s all.

Let’s see—ahem!—this choosing gifts

Is quite a ticklish call.

“They’ve golden chains and rings and cups

And dogs and silks and baskets;

They’ve rugs and jugs and silver mugs

And jewels in lovely caskets.”

The poor sage rubbed his head in vain—

’Tis hard to find a thing,

One must admit, both fine and fit

To please a Queen or King.

Then suddenly he gave a chuckle

And off upstairs he hurried,

And in his laboratory huge

Both back and forth he scurried.

And soon beneath his clever hands

There grew Supposyville,

With stages, pages, courtiers, tradesmen,

Blacksmith shop and mill.

“I’ve noticed,” laughed Sir Solomon,

“That when it comes to toys

The grownups like ’em just as well

As little girls and boys.

“And when the toy’s mechanical

The children stand around,

While dad and mother make ’em start

And stop!” Well, I’ll be bound.

(That is the truth.)

Copyright © 2026 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.