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Budlong closed his front door, a thread of crimson spun out along the East as if somebody were going to wrap the whole world up in a red string. He did not want it. He yawned at it. An hour or so later, Ulie awoke and sat up with a start. To his intense confusion, he bumped the top of his little skull on the bottom of his little bed.
Ulie was in bed at the time sleeping like an innocent cherub and smiling in his sleep. He was dreaming of a great invention: he would set a figure-4 trap near his fireplace and snare Santa Claus by the foot.
Then from a safe ambush under the bed, he would assail the old gentleman with his nigger-shooter till he laid him low, whereupon he could rifle the entire pack at his leisure, and select what he wanted. Ulie had not been attending Sabbath School in vain. The lesson of the week concerned David and Goliath.
Faesulae, Fiesoli, an ancient city of Italy, in the duchy of Florence, anciently one of the twelve considerable cities of Etruria. Flavum, anciently reckoned the eastern mouth of the Rhine, now called the Ulie, and is a passage out of the Zuyder Sea into the North Sea
He was so excited he actually kissed her and he hadn't finished his evening paper at that! This overjoyed her so far that she fairly glowed. "Oh, I'm so glad you approve, Ulie dear. And you'll help me, won't you?" "You bet I will, ducky dove." "That's glorious. Now which will you pretend to have, yellow fever or smallpox or " "Which will I pretend to have?
Their bed was empty. He ran through the house, stumbled down stairs and into the back parlor. His father was snoring on a mattress of Yuletide parcels. His mother was curled up on a divan under the smoking piano lamp. Her hands were clutching strands of gold cord and her hair was pillowed in pink tissue paper. She was burbling in her sleep. Little Ulie bent down to hear what she was saying.
He paced the floor in an effort to keep up with his temper. Eventually he stopped short. He remembered that his son had failed to help the family out in its distress. He said: "Let Ulie have something." Mrs. Budlong felt a certain superstitious uneasiness, but was finally won over, and Ulie was unanimously elected the scapegoat or in more modern form, the goat.
Then she fell panicky again and held the transmitter to him appealingly. He waved her away scornfully. She set her teeth hard and there was grimness in her eye and tone as she said: "Is this you, Mrs. Detwiller! Oh, yes, thank you, I'm very well. I wanted to tell you-m oh, yes, he's well, too. But what I started to say was Yes, so Ulie says!
Nowadays circuses have growed so big and so improper that nobody would dast take a child to one, or if you do, they get crazy notions. "When I was a boy, if I got a drum and a tin horn I was so happy I couldn't keep quiet. But last Christmas little Ulie Junior cried all day because he got a 'leven dollar automobile when he wanted a areaplane big enough to carry the cat over the barn.
Ulie had only a nightgown on, and owing to the heavy wind it wasn't much on. He dropped to the ground before Mr. Budlong could reach him, then darted away across lots barefooted through the snow towards the Detwillers'. Mr. Budlong treed him just before he reached the neighbors. But the boy would not come down till his father promised immunity both from punishment and from scarlet fever.
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