A Merry Christmas Eve

A  long time ago, a man named Bud lived in the 1100 block of East Second Street.  Bud was never very successful at anything.  At one time, he was the appointed dog warden of the county.  Various citizens accused Bud of picking up hunting dogs and selling them;  one of those people, T. T. Barnett, loved rabbit hunting and had a good beagle hound.  Mr. Barnett threatened to kill Bud over that dog and apparently was packing the means with which to get the job done.  The threat produced the dog, tied to a dog box in Bud's back yard.  Shortly thereafter, Bud was no longer the dog warden.

But, I digress. Bud stuttered badly! One Christmas Eve, there was a knock on Bud's door.  He answered and there stood Mr. Harold Willett, Bud's landlord. Perhpas you don't remember Harold Willett, but he was a very tall, slim man, with bushy eyebrows.  He was a mainstay in the Lions Club annual minstrel show.

C-c-c-come in, M-m-m-mr. Willett, Bud said.  Harold walked in and Bud offered him a seat in the living room.  Bud's wife, Bernice, who had a good job at Browning and wholly supported the couple, was off on Christmas Eve and was in the kitchen, cooking. 

Bud and Harold exhanged pleasantries and greetings of the season, whereupon Bud said,  B-b-b-b-bernice, get M-m-m-mr. Willett one of those c-c-c-chocolate-covered c-c-c-cherries.  Bernice did as she was instructed and Harold put the candy in his mouth.  It was tasty. 

Finally, Mr. Willett said that he had just come over to tell Bud that he was raising the rent.   Bud looked at Bernice and said, B-b-b-b-bernice, put the d-d-d-damned candy a-a-away!  Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!