Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself. Vol. 2 (of 2)Bird, Robert Montgomery
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Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself. Vol. 2 (of 2)
Bird, Robert Montgomery
American fiction -- 19th century; Satire
With a trembling hand I thrust into the pockets of the corse the money
and the silver spoons I had brought with me, being so far prudent that
I was resolved not to trust the transfer of such valuables to my new
body to accident. This being accomplished, I uttered the wish that had
thrice served my turn before.
I wished, however, in vain; I muttered the charm a dozen times over,
but with no more effect than if I had pronounced it to the lamp-post.
The body lay unmoved, and I remained unchanged.
I became horribly disconcerted; a fear seized me that my good angel, if
I had ever had one, had deserted me; or that the devil, if it was from
him I derived my power of passing from body to body, had suddenly left
me in the lurch;--in a word, that I had consumed all my privileges of
transformation, and was chained to the body of Abram Skinner for life.
I beat my breast in despair, and then, changing from that to wrath, I
began to belabour the ribs of the dead man with all the strength of my
foot, as if he were answerable for my disappointment. Perhaps, indeed,
the reader will think that he _was_; for at the third kick the corpse
became animated, and to my astonishment rose upon its feet, saying, in
accents tolerably articulate, though somewhat thick and tumultuous,
"I say, Charlie, odd rabbit it, none on your jokes now, and none on
your takin of folks up; 'cause how, folks is not half so drunk as you
suppose. And so good night, and let's have no more words about it, and
I'll consider you werry much of a gentleman."
With these words the corpse picked up that fragment of the jug that had
the handle to it, leaving the others, as well as his hat, behind him;
and staggering out of the shed, he began to walk away. I was petrified;
he was stalking off with my money, and a dozen of Mrs. Smith's silver
spoons!
"You villain!" said I, running after him, "give me back my property."
"I'm a free man," said the sot; "I'm no man's property. And so,
Charlie, don't go for to disturb me, for I knows my way home as well as
anybody."
"But the four hundred dollars and the silver spoons," said I, seizing
him by the shoulders, and endeavouring to empty the pockets I had but a
moment before filled. "If you resist, you rogue, I'll put you in jail."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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