The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4Poe, Edgar Allan
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The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American; Short stories
“Ha! ha! ha!” said that gentleman—“he! he! he!—hi! hi! hi!—ho!
ho! ho!—hu! hu! hu!—very good indeed! You must not be astonished,
_mon ami;_ our friend here is a wit—a _drôle_—you must not
understand him to the letter.”
“And then,” said some other one of the party,—“then there was
Bouffon Le Grand—another extraordinary personage in his way. He
grew deranged through love, and fancied himself possessed of two
heads. One of these he maintained to be the head of Cicero; the
other he imagined a composite one, being Demosthenes’ from the
top of the forehead to the mouth, and Lord Brougham’s from the
mouth to the chin. It is not impossible that he was wrong; but he
would have convinced you of his being in the right; for he was a
man of great eloquence. He had an absolute passion for oratory,
and could not refrain from display. For example, he used to leap
upon the dinner-table thus, and—and—”
Here a friend, at the side of the speaker, put a hand upon his
shoulder and whispered a few words in his ear; upon which he
ceased talking with great suddenness, and sank back within his
chair.
“And then,” said the friend who had whispered, “there was
Boullard, the tee-totum. I call him the tee-totum because, in
fact, he was seized with the droll, but not altogether
irrational, crotchet, that he had been converted into a
tee-totum. You would have roared with laughter to see him spin.
He would turn round upon one heel by the hour, in this
manner—so—”
Here the friend whom he had just interrupted by a whisper,
performed an exactly similar office for himself.
“But then,” cried the old lady, at the top of her voice, “your
Monsieur Boullard was a madman, and a very silly madman at best;
for who, allow me to ask you, ever heard of a human tee-totum?
The thing is absurd. Madame Joyeuse was a more sensible person,
as you know. She had a crotchet, but it was instinct with common
sense, and gave pleasure to all who had the honor of her
acquaintance. She found, upon mature deliberation, that, by some
accident, she had been turned into a chicken-cock; but, as such,
she behaved with propriety. She flapped her wings with prodigious
effect—so—so—so—and, as for her crow, it was delicious!
Cock-a-doodle-doo!—cock-a-doodle-doo!—cock-a-doodle-de-doo
dooo-do-o-o-o-o-o-o!”
“Madame Joyeuse, I will thank you to behave yourself!” here
interrupted our host, very angrily. “You can either conduct
yourself as a lady should do, or you can quit the table
forthwith—take your choice.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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