Pippalina skipped down the winding garden path. Then—soft thump! A giant golden pumpkin blocked the way from hedge to little wooden gate.
Pippalina tapped it with one wing. “Oh, no—you’re bigger than the path!”
So Pippalina hurried off to ask for help.
“Please help me move this pumpkin!” Pippalina called to the pig. But the pig was filling a trough.
Pippalina waited. Then Pippalina asked again, kindly. The pig nodded and came along.
“Please help me move this pumpkin!” Pippalina called to the goat. But the goat was carrying hay.
Dry leaves scratched along the path. The little wooden gate clicked in the breeze. At last, the goat followed Pippalina back.
“Please help me move this pumpkin!” Pippalina called to the hen. But the hen was chasing escaped peas rolling like green marbles.
Pippalina waited again. Then asked again, kindly. Soon the hen came too. Now everyone followed Pippalina to the pumpkin.
Pippalina braced webbed feet in the dust. “Pull!”
They tugged once, twice, three times. The pumpkin gave only a tiny wobble.
Boing! The vine snapped loose, and everyone tumbled into the cabbage leaves.
Pippalina popped up, spat out a leaf, and pointed at the pumpkin again.
This time, some pushed. Some pulled. Pippalina scooped dirt away with quick little scrapes.
The garden went quiet. Scrape. Creak. “Now!” cried Pippalina.
Suddenly the giant golden pumpkin rolled free! It bumped down the path like a runaway cart and stopped by the vegetable patch with a grand, squashy thud.
Soon the path was clear. Bowls, seeds, and bright slices covered a long table in the sun.
Pippalina heard chatter and clinking spoons. “We did it!” everyone cheered. A last fat seed plopped onto Pippalina’s plate, and Pippalina laughed and saved it for the garden.
