I may have told this story before so I apologize if you've already read it.
In the 1940s when I was a girl Halloween was a night when kids went out in two's and three's and knocked on every door in the neighborhood. Well, except that one house where the scary old lady wouldn't answer the door. My friend Phyllis and I loved the candy, but I hated to wear a costume (still do). Hence, I would throw an old sheet over my head with two holes to see through and out we went. This was before people thought to put dangerous stuff in your bag, when it was actually safe to prowl through the neighborhood, giggling all the way.
We already had lots of candy in our bags when we reached the corner. Across the street was "the" house. The people who lived there loved to see kids in costume. They always invited us in and made us do a trick before we got our treat. We dreaded it, but they gave the best candy ever, so we were deciding what to do as our trick before we crossed the street.
About that time here came the neighborhood bully, Harold. He was in our class but he had older friends and they were with him. Phyllis froze, knowing they would take her whole bag of goodies. As they approached, I suddenly grew a spine, spun around and ran as fast as I could - right into a tree! The holes in my sheet hadn't turned with me. They were now on the back of my head.
I came to with Phyllis kneeling over me crying, thinking I was dead, candy strewn all over the corner, and no bullies in sight. They thought I was dead too, I guess, because they abandoned their plans and took off. Poor Phyllis - until she realized I was okay (except for a bump on my head of course) and not only that, we had all of our candy. It was a great victory!