The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4 by Edgar Allan Poe


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Page 67

I knocked off, however, the lid of my coffin, and stepped out. The
place was dreadfully dreary and damp, and I became troubled with
ennui. By way of amusement, I felt my way among the numerous coffins
ranged in order around. I lifted them down, one by one, and breaking
open their lids, busied myself in speculations about the mortality
within.

"This," I soliloquized, tumbling over a carcass, puffy, bloated, and
rotund -- "this has been, no doubt, in every sense of the word, an
unhappy -- an unfortunate man. It has been his terrible lot not to
walk but to waddle -- to pass through life not like a human being,
but like an elephant -- not like a man, but like a rhinoceros.

"His attempts at getting on have been mere abortions, and his
circumgyratory proceedings a palpable failure. Taking a step forward,
it has been his misfortune to take two toward the right, and three
toward the left. His studies have been confined to the poetry of
Crabbe. He can have no idea of the wonder of a pirouette. To him a
pas de papillon has been an abstract conception. He has never
ascended the summit of a hill. He has never viewed from any steeple
the glories of a metropolis. Heat has been his mortal enemy. In the
dog-days his days have been the days of a dog. Therein, he has
dreamed of flames and suffocation -- of mountains upon mountains --
of Pelion upon Ossa. He was short of breath -- to say all in a word,
he was short of breath. He thought it extravagant to play upon wind
instruments. He was the inventor of self-moving fans, wind-sails, and
ventilators. He patronized Du Pont the bellows-maker, and he died
miserably in attempting to smoke a cigar. His was a case in which I
feel a deep interest -- a lot in which I sincerely sympathize.

"But here," -- said I -- "here" -- and I dragged spitefully from its
receptacle a gaunt, tall and peculiar-looking form, whose remarkable
appearance struck me with a sense of unwelcome familiarity -- "here
is a wretch entitled to no earthly commiseration." Thus saying, in
order to obtain a more distinct view of my subject, I applied my
thumb and forefinger to its nose, and causing it to assume a sitting
position upon the ground, held it thus, at the length of my arm,
while I continued my soliloquy.

-"Entitled," I repeated, "to no earthly commiseration. Who indeed
would think of compassioning a shadow? Besides, has he not had his
full share of the blessings of mortality? He was the originator of
tall monuments -- shot-towers -- lightning-rods -- Lombardy poplars.
His treatise upon "Shades and Shadows" has immortalized him. He
edited with distinguished ability the last edition of "South on the
Bones." He went early to college and studied pneumatics. He then came
home, talked eternally, and played upon the French-horn. He
patronized the bagpipes. Captain Barclay, who walked against Time,
would not walk against him. Windham and Allbreath were his favorite
writers, -- his favorite artist, Phiz. He died gloriously while
inhaling gas -- levique flatu corrupitur, like the fama pudicitae in
Hieronymus. {*1} He was indubitably a"--

"How can you? -- how -- can -- you?" -- interrupted the object of my
animadversions, gasping for breath, and tearing off, with a desperate
exertion, the bandage around its jaws -- "how can you, Mr.
Lackobreath, be so infernally cruel as to pinch me in that manner by
the nose? Did you not see how they had fastened up my mouth -- and
you must know -- if you know any thing -- how vast a superfluity of
breath I have to dispose of! If you do not know, however, sit down
and you shall see. In my situation it is really a great relief to be
able to open ones mouth -- to be able to expatiate -- to be able to
communicate with a person like yourself, who do not think yourself
called upon at every period to interrupt the thread of a gentleman's
discourse. Interruptions are annoying and should undoubtedly be
abolished -- don't you think so? -- no reply, I beg you, -- one
person is enough to be speaking at a time. -- I shall be done by and
by, and then you may begin. -- How the devil sir, did you get into
this place? -- not a word I beseech you -- been here some time myself
-- terrible accident! -- heard of it, I suppose? -- awful calamity!
-- walking under your windows -- some short while ago -- about the
time you were stage-struck -- horrible occurrence! -- heard of
"catching one's breath," eh? -- hold your tongue I tell you! -- I
caught somebody elses! -- had always too much of my own -- met Blab
at the corner of the street -- wouldn't give me a chance for a word
-- couldn't get in a syllable edgeways -- attacked, consequently,
with epilepsis -- Blab made his escape -- damn all fools! -- they
took me up for dead, and put me in this place -- pretty doings all of
them! -- heard all you said about me -- every word a lie -- horrible!
-- wonderful -- outrageous! -- hideous! -- incomprehensible! -- et
cetera -- et cetera -- et cetera -- et cetera-"

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 21st Jan 2026, 3:53