The works of Edgar Allan Poe; newly collected and edited, with a memoir, critical introductions, and notes, by Edmund Clarence Stedman and George Edward Woodberry; the illustrations by Albert Edward Sterner.

TALES OF PSEUDO-SCIENCE
four thousand years old at the least, was an idea, if
not very sage, still sufficiently original, and we all
caught it at once. About one-tenth in earnest and
nine-tenths in jest, we arranged a battery in? the
Doctor's study, and conveyed thither the Egyptian.
It was only after much trouble that we succeeded
in laying bare some portions of the temporal muscle
which appeared of less stony rigidity than other parts
of the frame, but which, as we had anticipated, of
course gave no indication of galvanic susceptibility
when brought in contact with the wire. This, the
first trial indeed, seemed decisive, and, with a hearty
laugh at our own absurdity, we were bidding each
other good-night, when my eyes, happening to fall
upon those of the Mummy, were there immediately
riveted in amazement. My brief glance, in fact, had
sufficed to assure me that the orbs which we had all
supposed to be glass, and which were originally noticeable for a certain wild stare, were now so far covered
by the lids, that only a small portion of the tunica
albuginca remained visible.
With a shout I called attention to the fact, and it
became immediately obvious to all.
I cannot say that I was alarmed at the phenomenon,
because "alarmed" is, in my case, not exactly the
word. It is possible, however, that, but for the Brown
Stout, I might have been a little nervous. As for the
rest of the company, they really made no attempt at
concealing the downright fright which possessed them.
Doctor Ponnonner was a man to be pitied. Mr.
Gliddon, by some peculiar process, rendered himself
invisible. Mr. Silk Buckingham, I fancy, will scarcely
be so bold as to deny that he made his way, upon all
fours, under the table.
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