short, scary Ghost Stories home | Classic Ghost Stories WANTED short, scary ghost stories - fiction or factual - for publication on this site.If published, we will be happy to list author's biographical details and a link back to your Web site.Copyright will remain with authors. Send submissions/outlines to abracad. The Works of Edgar Allan Poe Raven Edition Volume 4THE MAN THAT WAS USED UP.page 1 of 5 | Table of Contents
A TALE OF THE LATE BUGABOO AND KICKAPOO CAMPAIGN. _Pleurez, pleurez, mes yeux, et fondez vous en eau!_ _La moitié; de ma vie a mis l' autre au tombeau._ CORNEILLE. I CANNOT just now remember when or where I first made the acquaintance of that truly fine-looking fellow, Brevet Brigadier General John A. B. C. Smith. Some one _did_ introduce me to the gentleman, I am sure - at some public meeting, I know very well - held about something of great importance, no doubt - at some place or other, I feel convinced, - whose name I have unaccountably forgotten. The truth is - that the introduction was attended, upon my part, with a degree of anxious embarrassment which operated to prevent any definite impressions of either time or place. I am constitutionally nervous - this, with me, is a family failing, and I can't help it. In especial, the slightest appearance of mystery - of any point I cannot exactly comprehend - puts me at once into a pitiable state of agitation. There was something, as it were, remarkable - yes, _remarkable_, although this is but a feeble term to express my full meaning - about the entire individuality of the personage in question. He was, perhaps, six feet in height, and of a presence singularly commanding. There was an _air distingué_ pervading the whole man, which spoke of high breeding, and hinted at high birth. Upon this topic - the topic of Smith's personal appearance - I have a kind of melancholy satisfaction in being minute. His head of hair would have done honor to a Brutus; - nothing could be more richly flowing, or possess a brighter gloss. It was of a jetty black; - which was also the color, or more properly the no color of his unimaginable whiskers. You perceive I cannot speak of these latter without enthusiasm; it is not too much to say that they were the handsomest pair of whiskers under the sun. At all events, they encircled, and at times partially overshadowed, a mouth utterly unequalled. Here were the most entirely even, and the most brilliantly white of all conceivable teeth. From between them, upon every proper occasion, issued a voice of surpassing clearness, melody, and strength. In the matter of eyes, also, my acquaintance was pre-eminently endowed. Either one of such a pair was worth a couple of the ordinary ocular organs. They were of a deep hazel, exceedingly large and lustrous; and there was perceptible about them, ever and anon, just that amount of interesting obliquity which gives pregnancy to expression. The bust of the General was unquestionably the finest bust I ever saw. For your life you could not have found a fault with its wonderful proportion. This rare peculiarity set off to great advantage a pair of shoulders which would have called up a blush of conscious inferiority into the countenance of the marble Apollo. I have a passion for fine shoulders, and may say that I never beheld them in perfection before. The arms altogether were admirably modelled. Nor were the lower limbs less superb. These were, indeed, the _ne plus ultra_ of good legs. Every connoisseur in such matters admitted the legs to be good. There was neither too much flesh, nor too little, - neither rudeness nor fragility. I could not imagine a more graceful curve than that of the _os femoris_, and there was just that due gentle prominence in the rear of the _fibula_ which goes to the conformation of a properly proportioned calf. I wish to God my young and talented friend Chiponchipino, the sculptor, had but seen the legs of Brevet Brigadier General John A. B. C. Smith. But although men so absolutely fine-looking are neither as plenty as reasons or blackberries, still I could not bring myself to believe that _the remarkable_ something to which I alluded just now, - that the odd air of _je ne sais quoi_ which hung about my new acquaintance, - lay altogether, or indeed at all, in the supreme excellence of his bodily endowments. Perhaps it might be traced to the _manner_; - yet here again I could not pretend to be positive. There _was_ a primness, not to say stiffness, in his carriage - a degree of measured, and, if I may so express it, of rectangular precision, attending his every movement, which, observed in a more diminutive figure, would have had the least little savor in the world, of affectation, pomposity or constraint, but which noticed in a gentleman of his undoubted dimensions, was readily placed to the account of reserve, _hauteur_ - of a commendable sense, in short, of what is due to the dignity of colossal proportion. |