Halloween is here again
And ghost stories are told,
So here is an addition to
A tale that’s very old.
 
You’ve heard of Sleepy Hollow,
And the Headless Horseman’s fame—
He scared a lanky school teacher,
Young Ichabod, by name.
 
Well, Ichabod left in disgrace
He never did return,
But someone did—his little sis
And she was in slow-burn!

She vowed that she’d get even
With that bully, Brom van Brunt
Who’d scared her brother, Ichy, with
That headless horseman stunt.
 
Two can play that game, she said;
She got a pumpkin, too
But this pumpkin was rotten—
All its insides, slimy goo.
 
And smell? The stench was awful,
But if luck and aim were good,
Old Brom would smell for quite a while,
And by all rights, he should!
 
She watched him ride away to see 
 Miss Katrina van Tassel,
He’d had a bath and slicked his hair—
The cold lake was a hassle.
 
Sis, Wicki followed on her horse
As quiet as a mouse
She stopped before the clearing
At Miss Van Tassel’s house.
 
Dismounting, Brom knocked on her door,
Katrina stepped outside;
Brom was grinning ear to ear
But her eyes opened wide
 
And as Brom turned around to see
The object of her stare
Sis, Wicki threw the pumpkin
Which went sailing through the air.
 
His arm reached to deflect it
But the rotten pumpkin burst
And splattered over both of them
And Brom yelled out a curse!
 
The horror on his face, along
With drenched Katrina’s scream
Filled Wicki with delight;
It was a most successful scheme!
 
And so she lit out fast, for home,
A’cacklin’ all the while;
She’d have to write her brother
That she’d got ol Brom with style!
 
And though this story had no ghost,
Brom suffered more, I bet
Because Katrina heard him curse
And got most vilely wet!