From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:
Tonight is Halloween. That is a spooky night. All the dead people get out of their graves and walk around the city in sheets but the live ones are supposed to run around ringing doorbells and running away when people answer them. I am not allowed on the street even though I begged Grandfather to take me, but he wouldn’t. He said that he had no intention of ringing people’s doorbells and then running away. Tonight when he came home, he gave me a lovely chocolate witch sitting on a broomstick with a black cat.