"Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 5 of 5" - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)

that a low grunt betrayed to their perception a hog of no common size.

"Now El Emanu!" slowly and with upturned eyes ejaculated the trio, as,
letting go their hold, the emancipated porker tumbled headlong among the
Philistines, "El Emanu!-God be with us---it is _the unutterable flesh!"_

~~~~~~ End of Text ~~~~~~

======

THE SPHINX

DURING the dread reign of the Cholera in New York, I had accepted the
invitation of a relative to spend a fortnight with him in the retirement
of his _cottage ornee_ on the banks of the Hudson. We had here around us
all the ordinary means of summer amusement; and what with rambling in the
woods, sketching, boating, fishing, bathing, music, and books, we should
have passed the time pleasantly enough, but for the fearful intelligence
which reached us every morning from the populous city. Not a day elapsed
which did not bring us news of the decease of some acquaintance. Then as
the fatality increased, we learned to expect daily the loss of some
friend. At length we trembled at the approach of every messenger. The very
air from the South seemed to us redolent with death. That palsying
thought, indeed, took entire possession of my soul. I could neither speak,
think, nor dream of any thing else. My host was of a less excitable
temperament, and, although greatly depressed in spirits, exerted himself
to sustain my own. His richly philosophical intellect was not at any time
affected by unrealities. To the substances of terror he was sufficiently
alive, but of its shadows he had no apprehension.

His endeavors to arouse me from the condition of abnormal gloom into which
I had fallen, were frustrated, in great measure, by certain volumes which
I had found in his library. These were of a character to force into
germination whatever seeds of hereditary superstition lay latent in my
bosom. I had been reading these books without his knowledge, and thus he
was often at a loss to account for the forcible impressions which had been
made upon my fancy.

A favorite topic with me was the popular belief in omens -- a belief
which, at this one epoch of my life, I was almost seriously disposed to
defend. On this subject we had long and animated discussions -- he
maintaining the utter groundlessness of faith in such matters, -- I
contending that a popular sentiment arising with absolute spontaneity-
that is to say, without apparent traces of suggestion -- had in itself the
unmistakable elements of truth, and was entitled to as much respect as
that intuition which is the idiosyncrasy of the individual man of genius.

The fact is, that soon after my arrival at the cottage there had occurred
to myself an incident so entirely inexplicable, and which had in it so
much of the portentous character, that I might well have been excused for