“Tell us ’bout Bliaff,” suggested Toddie.

“Oh, no, Tod,” remonstrated Budge; “Joseph’s coat was just as bloody as Goliath’s head was.”  Then Budge turned to me and explained that “all Tod likes Goliath for is ’cause when his head was cut off it was all bloody.”  And then Toddie—­the airy sprite whom his mother described as being irresistibly drawn to whatever was beautiful—­Toddie glared upon me as a butcher’s apprentice might stare at a doomed lamb, and remarked:—­

“Bliaff’s head was all bluggy, an’ David’s sword was all bluggy—­ bluggy as everyfing.”

I hastily breathed a small prayer, opened the Bible, turned to the story of Joseph, and audibly condensed it as I read:—­

“Joseph was a good little boy whose papa loved him very dearly.  But his brothers didn’t like him.  And they sold him, to go to Egypt.  And he was very smart, and told the people what their dreams meant, and he got to be a great man.  And his brothers went to Egypt to buy corn, and Joseph sold them some, and then he let them know who he was.  And he sent them home to bring their papa to Egypt, and then they all lived there together.”

“That ain’t it,” remarked Toddie, with the air of a man who felt himself to be unjustly treated.  “Is it, Budge?”

“Oh, no,” said Budge, “you didn’t read it good a bit; I’ll tell you how it is.  Once there was a little boy named Joseph, an’ he had eleven budders—­they was awful eleven budders.  An’ his papa gave him a new coat, an’ his budders hadn’t nothin’ but their old jackets to wear.  An’ one day he was carryin’ ’em their dinner, an’ they put him in a deep, dark hole, but they didn’t put his nice new coat in—­they killed a kid, an’ dipped the coat—­just think of doin’ that to a nice new coat—­they dipped it in the kid’s blood, an’ made it all bloody.”

“All bluggy,” echoed Toddie, with ferocious emphasis.  Budge continued:—­

“But there were some Ishmalites comin’ along that way, and the awful eleven budders took him out of the deep dark hole, an’ sold him to the Ishmalites, an’ they sold him away down in Egypt.  An’ his poor old papa cried, an’ cried, ’cause he thought a big lion ate Joseph up; but he wasn’t ate up a bit; but there wasn’t no post-office nor choo-choos, [Footnote:  railway cars] nor stages in Egypt, an’ there wasn’t any telegraphs, so Joseph couldn’t let his papa know where he was; an’ he got so smart an’ so good that the king of Egypt let him sell all the corn an’ take care of the money; an’ one day some men came to buy some corn, an’ Joseph looked at ’em an’ there they was his own budders!  An’ he scared ’em like everything; I’d have slapped ’em all if I’d been Joseph, but he just scared ’em, an’ then he let ’em know who he was, an’ he kissed ’em an’ he didn’t whip ’em, or make ’em go without their breakfast, or stand in a corner, nor none of them things; an’ then he sent ’em back for their papa, an’ when he saw his papa comin’, he ran like everything, and gave him a great big hug and a kiss.  Joseph was too big to ask his papa if he’d brought him any candy, but he was awful glad to see him.  An’ the king gave Joseph’s papa a nice farm, an’ they all had real good times after that.”