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Chapter 18
IrememberatChristmaswhenIshouldbegayIusedtogettheWelshrats."
"What’sthat?"
"It’sthewayIhearditwhenGreat-AuntDeborahpronouncedWeltschmerz."
"What’sthat?"
"Agoosewalkingoveryourgrave."
"Oh!That!Well,don’tgetit.Iguessthisisthebestdayofourwholelives.Itwouldbe—ungratefulifwedidn’tknowit.NowyousmileandchaseoffthoseWelshrats.That’sfunny,Ethan,‘Welshrats.’Youpaythebill.I’llputourthingstogether."
Ipaidourbillwithmoneythathadbeenfoldedinatightlittlesquare.AndIaskedMr.Mole,"Doyouhaveanysparklersleftatthegiftcounter?"
"Ithinkso.I’llsee....Heretheyare.Howmanydoyouwant?"
"Allyouhave,"Isaid."Oursonhasbecomeacelebrity."
"Really?Whatkind?"
"There’sonlyonekind."
"YoumeanlikeDickClarkorlikethat?"
"OrChessmanorDillinger."
"You’rejoking."
"He’llbeontelevision."
"Whatstation?Whattime?"
"Idon’tknow—yet."
"I’llwatchforit.What’shisname?"
"Thesameasmine.EthanAllenHawley—calledAllen."
"Wellit’sbeenanhonortohaveyouandMrs.Allenwithus."
"Mrs.Hawley."
"Ofcourse.Ihopeyou’llcomeagain.Lotsofcelebritieshavestayedhere.Theycomefor—thequiet."
Marysatstraightandproudonthegoldenroadtowardhomeintheslowandglitteringsnakeofthetraffic.
"Igotawholeboxofsparklers.Overahundred."
"Nowthat’smorelikeyou,dear.IwonderiftheBakersarebackyet."
