The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4 Read online

  THE ANGEL OF THE ODD

  AN EXTRAVAGANZA.

  IT was a chilly November afternoon. I had just consummated an unusuallyhearty dinner, of which the dyspeptic _truffe_ formed not the leastimportant item, and was sitting alone in the dining-room, with my feetupon the fender, and at my elbow a small table which I had rolled upto the fire, and upon which were some apologies for dessert, with somemiscellaneous bottles of wine, spirit and _liqueur_. In the morning Ihad been reading Glover's "Leonidas," Wilkie's "Epigoniad," Lamartine's"Pilgrimage," Barlow's "Columbiad," Tuckermann's "Sicily," andGriswold's "Curiosities"; I am willing to confess, therefore, that I nowfelt a little stupid. I made effort to arouse myself by aid of frequentLafitte, and, all failing, I betook myself to a stray newspaper indespair. Having carefully perused the column of "houses to let," andthe column of "dogs lost," and then the two columns of "wives andapprentices runaway," I attacked with great resolution the editorialmatter, and, reading it from beginning to end without understanding asyllable, conceived the possibility of its being Chinese, and so re-readit from the end to the beginning, but with no more satisfactory result.I was about throwing away, in disgust,

  "This folio of four pages, happy work Which not even critics criticise,"

  when I felt my attention somewhat aroused by the paragraph whichfollows:

  "The avenues to death are numerous and strange. A London paper mentionsthe decease of a person from a singular cause. He was playing at 'puffthe dart,' which is played with a long needle inserted in some worsted,and blown at a target through a tin tube. He placed the needle at thewrong end of the tube, and drawing his breath strongly to puff the dartforward with force, drew the needle into his throat. It entered thelungs, and in a few days killed him."

  Upon seeing this I fell into a great rage, without exactly knowingwhy. "This thing," I exclaimed, "is a contemptible falsehood--a poorhoax--the lees of the invention of some pitiable penny-a-liner--of somewretched concoctor of accidents in Cocaigne. These fellows, knowingthe extravagant gullibility of the age, set their wits to work in theimagination of improbable possibilities---of odd accidents, as theyterm them; but to a reflecting intellect (like mine," I added, inparenthesis, putting my forefinger unconsciously to the side of mynose,) "to a contemplative understanding such as I myself possess, itseems evident at once that the marvelous increase of late in these 'oddaccidents' is by far the oddest accident of all. For my own part,I intend to believe nothing henceforward that has anything of the'singular' about it."

  "Mein Gott, den, vat a vool you bees for dat!" replied one of the mostremarkable voices I ever heard. At first I took it for a rumbling in myears--such as a man sometimes experiences when getting very drunk--but,upon second thought, I considered the sound as more nearly resemblingthat which proceeds from an empty barrel beaten with a big stick; and,in fact, this I should have concluded it to be, but for the articulationof the syllables and words. I am by no means naturally nervous, and thevery few glasses of Lafitte which I had sipped served to embolden me nolittle, so that I felt nothing of trepidation, but merely uplifted myeyes with a leisurely movement, and looked carefully around the room forthe intruder. I could not, however, perceive any one at all.

  "Humph!" resumed the voice, as I continued my survey, "you mus pe sodronk as de pig, den, for not zee me as I zit here at your zide."

  Hereupon I bethought me of looking immediately before my nose, andthere, sure enough, confronting me at the table sat a personagenondescript, although not altogether indescribable. His body was awine-pipe, or a rum-puncheon, or something of that character, and had atruly Falstaffian air. In its nether extremity were inserted two kegs,which seemed to answer all the purposes of legs. For arms there dangledfrom the upper portion of the carcass two tolerably long bottles,with the necks outward for hands. All the head that I saw the monsterpossessed of was one of those Hessian canteens which resemble a largesnuff-box with a hole in the middle of the lid. This canteen (with afunnel on its top, like a cavalier cap slouched over the eyes) was seton edge upon the puncheon, with the hole toward myself; and throughthis hole, which seemed puckered up like the mouth of a very precise oldmaid, the creature was emitting certain rumbling and grumbling noiseswhich he evidently intended for intelligible talk.

  "I zay," said he, "you mos pe dronk as de pig, vor zit dare and not zeeme zit ere; and I zay, doo, you mos pe pigger vool as de goose, vor todispelief vat iz print in de print. 'Tiz de troof---dat it iz--eberryvord ob it."

  "Who are you, pray?" said I, with much dignity, although somewhatpuzzled; "how did you get here? and what is it you are talking about?"

  "Az vor ow I com'd ere," replied the figure, "dat iz none of yourpizzness; and as vor vat I be talking apout, I be talk apout vat I tinkproper; and as vor who I be, vy dat is de very ting I com'd here for tolet you zee for yourzelf."

  "You are a drunken vagabond," said I, "and I shall ring the bell andorder my footman to kick you into the street."

  "He! he! he!" said the fellow, "hu! hu! hu! dat you can't do."

  "Can't do!" said I, "what do you mean?--I can't do what?"

  "Ring de pell;" he replied, attempting a grin with his little villanousmouth.

  Upon this I made an effort to get up, in order to put my threatinto execution; but the ruffian just reached across the table verydeliberately, and hitting me a tap on the forehead with the neck of oneof the long bottles, knocked me back into the arm-chair from which I hadhalf arisen. I was utterly astounded; and, for a moment, was quite at aloss what to do. In the meantime, he continued his talk.

  "You zee," said he, "it iz te bess vor zit still; and now you shall knowwho I pe. Look at me! zee! I am te _Angel ov te Odd_."

  "And odd enough, too," I ventured to reply; "but I was always under theimpression that an angel had wings."

  "Te wing!" he cried, highly incensed, "vat I pe do mit te wing? MeinGott! do you take me vor a shicken?"

  "No--oh no!" I replied, much alarmed, "you are no chicken--certainlynot."

  "Well, den, zit still and pehabe yourself, or I'll rap you again mid mevist. It iz te shicken ab te wing, und te owl ab te wing, und te imp abte wing, und te head-teuffel ab te wing. Te angel ab _not_ te wing, andI am te _Angel ov te Odd_."

  "And your business with me at present is--is"--

  "My pizzness!" ejaculated the thing, "vy vat a low bred buppy you mos pevor to ask a gentleman und an angel apout his pizziness!"

  This language was rather more than I could bear, even from an angel; so,plucking up courage, I seized a salt-cellar which lay within reach, andhurled it at the head of the intruder. Either he dodged, however, ormy aim was inaccurate; for all I accomplished was the demolition of thecrystal which protected the dial of the clock upon the mantel-piece. Asfor the Angel, he evinced his sense of my assault by giving me two orthree hard consecutive raps upon the forehead as before. These reducedme at once to submission, and I am almost ashamed to confess that eitherthrough pain or vexation, there came a few tears into my eyes.

  "Mein Gott!" said the Angel of the Odd, apparently much softened at mydistress; "mein Gott, te man is eder ferry dronk or ferry zorry. Youmos not trink it so strong--you mos put te water in te wine. Here, trinkdis, like a goot veller, und don't gry now--don't!"

  Hereupon the Angel of the Odd replenished my goblet (which was about athird full of Port) with a colorless fluid that he poured from one ofhis hand bottles. I observed that these bottles had labels about theirnecks, and that these labels were inscribed "Kirschenwasser."

  The considerate kindness of the Angel mollified me in no little measure;and, aided by the water with which he diluted my Port more than once, Iat length regained sufficient temper to listen to his very extraordinarydiscourse. I cannot pretend to recount all that he told me, but Igleaned from what he said that he was the genius who presided over the_contretemps_ of mankind, and whose business it was to bring about the_odd accidents_ which are continually astonishing the skeptic. Once ortwice, upon my venturing to express my total incredulity in
respectto his pretensions, he grew very angry indeed, so that at length Iconsidered it the wiser policy to say nothing at all, and let him havehis own way. He talked on, therefore, at great length, while I merelyleaned back in my chair with my eyes shut, and amused myself withmunching raisins and filliping the stems about the room. But, by-and-by,the Angel suddenly construed this behavior of mine into contempt. Hearose in a terrible passion, slouched his funnel down over his eyes,swore a vast oath, uttered a threat of some character which I didnot precisely comprehend, and finally made me a low bow and departed,wishing me, in the language of the archbishop in Gil-Blas, "_beaucoup debonheur et un peu plus de bon sens_."

  His departure afforded me relief. The _very_ few glasses of Lafitte thatI had sipped had the effect of rendering me drowsy, and I felt inclinedto take a nap of some fifteen or twenty minutes, as is my custom afterdinner. At six I had an appointment of consequence, which it wasquite indispensable that I should keep. The policy of insurance formy dwelling house had expired the day before; and, some dispute havingarisen, it was agreed that, at six, I should meet the board of directorsof the company and settle the terms of a renewal. Glancing upward at theclock on the mantel-piece, (for I felt too drowsy to take out my watch),I had the pleasure to find that I had still twenty-five minutes tospare. It was half past five; I could easily walk to the insuranceoffice in five minutes; and my usual siestas had never been knownto exceed five and twenty. I felt sufficiently safe, therefore, andcomposed myself to my slumbers forthwith.

  Having completed them to my satisfaction, I again looked toward thetime-piece and was half inclined to believe in the possibility of oddaccidents when I found that, instead of my ordinary fifteen or twentyminutes, I had been dozing only three; for it still wanted seven andtwenty of the appointed hour. I betook myself again to my nap, and atlength a second time awoke, when, to my utter amazement, it _still_wanted twenty-seven minutes of six. I jumped up to examine the clock,and found that it had ceased running. My watch informed me that it washalf past seven; and, of course, having slept two hours, I was too latefor my appointment. "It will make no difference," I said: "I can call atthe office in the morning and apologize; in the meantime what can be thematter with the clock?" Upon examining it I discovered that one ofthe raisin stems which I had been filliping about the room during thediscourse of the Angel of the Odd, had flown through the fracturedcrystal, and lodging, singularly enough, in the key-hole, with an endprojecting outward, had thus arrested the revolution of the minute hand.

  "Ah!" said I, "I see how it is. This thing speaks for itself. A naturalaccident, such as _will_ happen now and then!"

  I gave the matter no further consideration, and at my usual hour retiredto bed. Here, having placed a candle upon a reading stand at thebed head, and having made an attempt to peruse some pages of the"Omnipresence of the Deity," I unfortunately fell asleep in less thantwenty seconds, leaving the light burning as it was.

  My dreams were terrifically disturbed by visions of the Angel ofthe Odd. Methought he stood at the foot of the couch, drew aside thecurtains, and, in the hollow, detestable tones of a rum puncheon,menaced me with the bitterest vengeance for the contempt with whichI had treated him. He concluded a long harangue by taking off hisfunnel-cap, inserting the tube into my gullet, and thus deluging me withan ocean of Kirschenwaesser, which he poured, in a continuous flood,from one of the long necked bottles that stood him instead of an arm. Myagony was at length insufferable, and I awoke just in time to perceivethat a rat had ran off with the lighted candle from the stand, but _not_in season to prevent his making his escape with it through the hole.Very soon, a strong suffocating odor assailed my nostrils; the house, Iclearly perceived, was on fire. In a few minutes the blaze broke forthwith violence, and in an incredibly brief period the entire building waswrapped in flames. All egress from my chamber, except through a window,was cut off. The crowd, however, quickly procured and raised a longladder. By means of this I was descending rapidly, and in apparentsafety, when a huge hog, about whose rotund stomach, and indeed aboutwhose whole air and physiognomy, there was something which reminded meof the Angel of the Odd,--when this hog, I say, which hitherto had beenquietly slumbering in the mud, took it suddenly into his head thathis left shoulder needed scratching, and could find no more convenientrubbing-post than that afforded by the foot of the ladder. In an instantI was precipitated and had the misfortune to fracture my arm.

  This accident, with the loss of my insurance, and with the more seriousloss of my hair, the whole of which had been singed off by the fire,predisposed me to serious impressions, so that, finally, I made up mymind to take a wife. There was a rich widow disconsolate for the loss ofher seventh husband, and to her wounded spirit I offered the balm of myvows. She yielded a reluctant consent to my prayers. I knelt at her feetin gratitude and adoration. She blushed and bowed her luxuriant tressesinto close contact with those supplied me, temporarily, by Grandjean. Iknow not how the entanglement took place, but so it was. I arose witha shining pate, wigless; she in disdain and wrath, half buried in alienhair. Thus ended my hopes of the widow by an accident which could nothave been anticipated, to be sure, but which the natural sequence ofevents had brought about.

  Without despairing, however, I undertook the siege of a less implacableheart. The fates were again propitious for a brief period; but again atrivial incident interfered. Meeting my betrothed in an avenue throngedwith the _elite_ of the city, I was hastening to greet her with one ofmy best considered bows, when a small particle of some foreign matter,lodging in the corner of my eye, rendered me, for the moment, completelyblind. Before I could recover my sight, the lady of my love haddisappeared--irreparably affronted at what she chose to considermy premeditated rudeness in passing her by ungreeted. While I stoodbewildered at the suddenness of this accident, (which might havehappened, nevertheless, to any one under the sun), and while I stillcontinued incapable of sight, I was accosted by the Angel of the Odd,who proffered me his aid with a civility which I had no reason toexpect. He examined my disordered eye with much gentleness and skill,informed me that I had a drop in it, and (whatever a "drop" was) took itout, and afforded me relief.

  I now considered it high time to die, (since fortune had so determinedto persecute me,) and accordingly made my way to the nearest river.Here, divesting myself of my clothes, (for there is no reason why wecannot die as we were born), I threw myself headlong into the current;the sole witness of my fate being a solitary crow that had been seducedinto the eating of brandy-saturated corn, and so had staggered away fromhis fellows. No sooner had I entered the water than this bird took itinto its head to fly away with the most indispensable portion of myapparel. Postponing, therefore, for the present, my suicidal design,I just slipped my nether extremities into the sleeves of my coat, andbetook myself to a pursuit of the felon with all the nimbleness whichthe case required and its circumstances would admit. But my evil destinyattended me still. As I ran at full speed, with my nose up in theatmosphere, and intent only upon the purloiner of my property, Isuddenly perceived that my feet rested no longer upon _terra-firma_;the fact is, I had thrown myself over a precipice, and should inevitablyhave been dashed to pieces but for my good fortune in grasping the endof a long guide-rope, which depended from a passing balloon.

  As soon as I sufficiently recovered my senses to comprehend the terrificpredicament in which I stood or rather hung, I exerted all the power ofmy lungs to make that predicament known to the aeronaut overhead. But fora long time I exerted myself in vain. Either the fool could not, orthe villain would not perceive me. Meantime the machine rapidly soared,while my strength even more rapidly failed. I was soon upon the point ofresigning myself to my fate, and dropping quietly into the sea, whenmy spirits were suddenly revived by hearing a hollow voice from above,which seemed to be lazily humming an opera air. Looking up, I perceivedthe Angel of the Odd. He was leaning with his arms folded, over the rimof the car; and with a pipe in his mouth, at which he puffed leisurely,seemed to be upon excellent terms with
himself and the universe. I wastoo much exhausted to speak, so I merely regarded him with an imploringair.

  For several minutes, although he looked me full in the face, he saidnothing. At length removing carefully his meerschaum from the right tothe left corner of his mouth, he condescended to speak.

  "Who pe you," he asked, "und what der teuffel you pe do dare?"

  To this piece of impudence, cruelty and affectation, I could reply onlyby ejaculating the monosyllable "Help!"

  "Elp!" echoed the ruffian--"not I. Dare iz te pottle--elp yourself, undpe tam'd!"

  With these words he let fall a heavy bottle of Kirschenwasser which,dropping precisely upon the crown of my head, caused me to imagine thatmy brains were entirely knocked out. Impressed with this idea, I wasabout to relinquish my hold and give up the ghost with a good grace,when I was arrested by the cry of the Angel, who bade me hold on.

  "Old on!" he said; "don't pe in te urry--don't. Will you pe take deodder pottle, or ave you pe got zober yet and come to your zenzes?"

  I made haste, hereupon, to nod my head twice--once in the negative,meaning thereby that I would prefer not taking the other bottle atpresent--and once in the affirmative, intending thus to imply that I_was_ sober and _had_ positively come to my senses. By these means Isomewhat softened the Angel.

  "Und you pelief, ten," he inquired, "at te last? You pelief, ten, in tepossibilty of te odd?"

  I again nodded my head in assent.

  "Und you ave pelief in _me_, te Angel of te Odd?"

  I nodded again.

  "Und you acknowledge tat you pe te blind dronk and te vool?"

  I nodded once more.

  "Put your right hand into your left hand preeches pocket, ten, in tokenov your vull zubmizzion unto te Angel ov te Odd."

  This thing, for very obvious reasons, I found it quite impossible todo. In the first place, my left arm had been broken in my fall from theladder, and, therefore, had I let go my hold with the right hand, I musthave let go altogether. In the second place, I could have no breechesuntil I came across the crow. I was therefore obliged, much to myregret, to shake my head in the negative--intending thus to give theAngel to understand that I found it inconvenient, just at that moment,to comply with his very reasonable demand! No sooner, however, had Iceased shaking my head than--

  "Go to der teuffel, ten!" roared the Angel of the Odd.

  In pronouncing these words, he drew a sharp knife across the guide-ropeby which I was suspended, and as we then happened to be precisely overmy own house, (which, during my peregrinations, had been handsomelyrebuilt,) it so occurred that I tumbled headlong down the ample chimneyand alit upon the dining-room hearth.

  Upon coming to my senses, (for the fall had very thoroughly stunned me,)I found it about four o'clock in the morning. I lay outstretched whereI had fallen from the balloon. My head grovelled in the ashes of anextinguished fire, while my feet reposed upon the wreck of a smalltable, overthrown, and amid the fragments of a miscellaneous dessert,intermingled with a newspaper, some broken glass and shattered bottles,and an empty jug of the Schiedam Kirschenwasser. Thus revenged himselfthe Angel of the Odd.

  [Mabbott states that Griswold "obviously had a revised form" for usein the 1856 volume of Poe's works. Mabbott does not substantiatethis claim, but it is surely not unreasonable. An editor, and eventypographical errors, may have produced nearly all of the very minorchanges made in this version. (Indeed, two very necessary wordswere clearly dropped by accident.) An editor might have corrected"Wickliffe's 'Epigoniad'" to "Wilkie's 'Epigoniad'," but is unlikelyto have added "Tuckerman's 'Sicily'" to the list of books read by thenarrator. Griswold was not above forgery (in Poe's letters) when itsuited his purpose, but would have too little to gain by such an effortin this instance.]