Tales of a Traveller by Washington Irving
page 41 of 380 (10%)
page 41 of 380 (10%)
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"What for?" said the inquisitive gentleman.
"Why, to cool himself to be sure," replied the other, "or perhaps to find a more comfortable bed--or perhaps--but no matter what he went for--he never mentioned; and there's no use in taking up our time in conjecturing." Well, my grandfather had been for some time absent from his room, and was returning, perfectly cool, when just as he reached the door he heard a strange noise within. He paused and listened. It seemed as if some one was trying to hum a tune in defiance of the asthma. He recollected the report of the room's being haunted; but he was no believer in ghosts. So he pushed the door gently ajar, and peeped in. Egad, gentlemen, there was a gambol carrying on within enough to have astonished St. Anthony. By the light of the fire he saw a pale weazen-faced fellow in a long Flannel gown and a tall white night-cap with a tassel to it, who sat by the fire, with a bellows under his arm by way of bagpipe, from which he forced the asthmatical music that had bothered my grandfather. As he played, too, he kept twitching about with a thousand queer contortions; nodding his head and bobbing about his tasselled night-cap. My grandfather thought this very odd, and mighty presumptuous, and was about to demand what business he had to play his wind instruments in another gentleman's quarters, when a new cause of astonishment met his eye. From the opposite side of the room a long-backed, bandy-legged chair, covered with leather, and studded all over in a coxcomical fashion with little brass nails, got suddenly into motion; thrust out |
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