The Flamp was a monster who dwelt in a cave somewhere in the mountains
that surrounded the plain. Once every year, on Christmas night, the
Flamp came into the city and threw the population into a frenzy of
terror. That on this night of the year, a night set apart for joyfulness
and festivity, the Loathly Beast (for so he was called by orators in the
City Council when they had used the word Flamp often enough) should
invade their city, seeking his prey, seemed to the Ulians an act of the
grossest cruelty and injustice. Almost as soon as darkness had fallen on
Christmas Day, the noises in the city would cease, and the house-holders
and their families would sit within barred doors, with uplifted fingers,
holding their breath, and listening, listening. Then in the far distance
_flob! flob!_ faint, _FLOB!! FLOB!!_ less faint, _FLOB!!! FLOB!!!_
less faint, every moment louder, coming nearer and nearer, until the
earth shook, and the Flamp's flobbing, flamping feet filled the air with
deafening thuds.
All keys were turned, all bolts were drawn, all blinds were down, by the
time he entered the city. Not a light was visible. The Flamp was heard
sniffing at this door, fumbling at the handle of that, knocking at
another, while the _shuff! shuff!_ of his sides against the walls was
quite audible. Now and then he would sit down in the road and sigh
deeply, and the trembling listeners near by could hear the splashing of
his tears on the stones.
After passing through every street, the Flamp would turn out of the gate
once more, and swing off across the plain to his cave in the mountains,
the earth would cease to tremble, and fainter and fainter would sound
his footfalls: _FLOB!!! FLOB!!! FLOB!! FLOB!! flob!_ flob! until
at last all was still again. Then with white faces and shaking limbs the
citizens would crawl to bed, bemoaning their lot.
The next day the streets were examined to see if any damage had been
done, but nothing was ever found except pools of water where the Flamp
had sat down to sigh and weep. One strange thing was observed after
every visit of the Flamp: these pools were always opposite houses where
there were children.
'He comes for the children,' was the natural conclusion of the people.
'See how the Monster cries with rage and disappointment when he finds
all doors barred to him.'
Measures had of course been taken to keep the Flamp out of Ule. The
gates were barricaded: he broke them down as easily as you break new
toys; spring guns were placed in the roads: they went off, the bullets
struck his hide, and, rebounding, smashed several windows, while one
even ricochetted against the statue of the Liglid in the market-place
and chipped off a piece of his Excellency's nose; poisoned meat was
spread about temptingly: in the morning it was found all gathered
together on the doorstep of the Sanitary Inspector. Thus in time it
became clear that the Flamp was not to be checked, and for many years
before the time of our story no other attempts had been made.