Pedagogiskt pumpaprat

 Från frö till paj.

Den här söta boken, som får mig att tänka på Pelles nya kläder, är ett samarbete mellan två vänner, konstnären Archibald MacNeal Willard och pastor William Eleazar Barton.  Strax före jul 1897 skickade Archibald 20 skisser på en pumpapajs tillkomst, till William, som skrev en historia om pajens tillblivelse, på vers.

This is the tale of a pumpkin pie.

And of Charlie and Fred. Just how and why

They labored with their sister Nell

And Towser helped, this book will tell.

All boys and girls who read it through

Will know what they themselves should do.

If they will work, and wait, and try,

They, too, may have a pumpkin pie.

Where shines the sun with mellow light,

And grass grows green and flowers are bright,

There live our girl and jolly boys,

In all the farm home's cares and joys.

They drive the cows down the lot

Where cool the creek, though days are hot;

In health and happiness the dwell,

And what they do I now will tell.

 Said Carl next day, "Now, Fred, we've found

That we can work. Let's plow the ground.

We'll make a garden all our own,

And have a pumpkin in it grown."

A forked stick they quickly got,

And started there to plow the lot.

Carl was a horse the dog another;

The plowman was the younger brother.

 Said Carl next day, "Now, Fred, we've found

That we can work. Let's plow the ground.

We'll make a garden all our own,

And have a pumpkin in it grown."

De väntar otåligt, men så en dag har fröna börjat gro, och upp kommer en gul blomma!

When autumn came, the children three,

With books and lunch and noisy glee,

Went off to school, their task to learn,

And Towser waited their return.

And then, so short had grown the day,

They had but little time for play,

But drow the cows, the chicken fed,

They supper ate and went to bed.

​

​But Saturday they viewed their prize,

And, lo, it grew to monstrous size!

And autumn sunbeams  shining down

Colored the pumpkin golden brown.

Pumpan växer, vädret blir kallare och barnen oroar sig för att frosten ska ta pumpan, men den klarar sig, skördas och transporteras hem med stort besvär.

 In golden crescents cut their prize

To make it into pumpkin pies;

yet saved the seeds to plant next spring,

That these might other pumpkin bring.

A smaller pumpkin had they still,

And carved it out with wondrous skill.

Made eyes and mouth, put in a light,

A funny lantern 'twas at night!

 Then mother cooked each golden slice,

And seasoned it with sweet and spice,

And rolled the crust so crisp and thin

To bake the precious pumpkin in.

 The children pressed the table nigh,

Unti the oven claimed the pie,

And then with appetites most keen

They scraped the pan and licked it clean.

Och äntligen, äntligen är det Thanksgiving, men innan de får smaka pajen sitter de stilla och sedesamt i kyrkbänken och bara väntar på att den långa predikan ska ta slut.

Vill du se alla bilderna och läsa alla verserna så hittar du klicka dig fram till The story of a pumpkin pie.