The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 212

and which so confirmed
my impression of the youth of my mistress, were executed by Madame
Stephanie Lalande. The eyeglass was presented by way of adding a reproof
to the hoax--a sting to the epigram of the deception. Its presentation
afforded an opportunity for the lecture upon affectation with which
I was so especially edified. It is almost superfluous to add that the
glasses of the instrument, as worn by the old lady, had been exchanged
by her for a pair better adapted to my years. They suited me, in fact,
to a T.

The clergyman, who merely pretended to tie the fatal knot, was a boon
companion of Talbot’s, and no priest. He was an excellent “whip,”
however; and having doffed his cassock to put on a great-coat, he drove
the hack which conveyed the “happy couple” out of town. Talbot took a
seat at his side. The two scoundrels were thus “in at the death,”
and through a half-open window of the back parlor of the inn, amused
themselves in grinning at the denouement of the drama. I believe I shall
be forced to call them both out.

Nevertheless, I am not the husband of my great, great, grandmother; and
this is a reflection which affords me infinite relief,--but I am the
husband of Madame Lalande--of Madame Stephanie Lalande--with whom my
good old relative, besides making me her sole heir when she dies--if
she ever does--has been at the trouble of concocting me a match. In
conclusion: I am done forever with billets doux and am never to be met


A Tale Containing an Allegory.

The gods do bear and will allow in kings
The things which they abhor in rascal routes.

_Buckhurst’s Tragedy of Ferrex and Porrex._

ABOUT twelve o’clock, one night in the month of October, and during the
chivalrous reign of the third Edward, two seamen belonging to the crew
of the “Free and Easy,” a trading schooner plying between Sluys and the
Thames, and then at anchor in that river, were much astonished to find
themselves seated in the tap-room of an ale-house in the parish of St.
Andrews, London--which ale-house bore for sign the portraiture of a
“Jolly Tar.”

The room, although ill-contrived, smoke-blackened, low-pitched, and in
every other respect agreeing with the general character of such places
at the period--was, nevertheless, in the opinion of the grotesque groups
scattered here and there within it, sufficiently well adapted to its

Of these groups our two seamen formed, I

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