Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

more fun out of that mistletoe to-day! Occasionally while putting it up, or directing up to put up, Frances would remark mournfully:
    “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a tree – but then they’re such a nuisance!” Then we would make some trivial remark, agreeing with her.
     This done, I decided to take Bill’s present over to him, and as I folded up the brown and white cushion, I wished to myself that I had one. Then with plentiful admonition from Frances and Joe to hurry back, as we were going down to Aunt Em’s and several other places to make Christmas calls, I went over. Bill I know wasn’t expecting anything, for he looked kind of funny and said
“Why you rump-fed ronyon!” But he liked it I think. After we had chatted for a while I remarked.
“Come on over this afternoon, will you? And tell Jim.”
“All-right. What’s your hurry?”
“I’ve got to make Christmas calls with Frances, Joe and Louise.
“Well so –long. We’ll be over.”
    On the way over home I met them, wrathful over the