October 30, 2018 • 51 mins
It’s Halloween again and Chuck and Josh want to creep you out. Listen to two great classic horror stories, dripping with Jeri’s creeptastic audio stylings. Guaranteed to put you in the holiday spirit.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:03):
Hey, and welcome to the Spooky Halloween Podcast. I'm yeah
very nice. I'm Joshua Lander and Clark. There's Bride of
Chucky Bryant, and there's Jarifying Roland. Jerry said she has
no time for us this year, so we have to
make all our own sound effects with our own mouths.
That sounds good, that's cool, we can do that. Watch this.
(00:28):
That was terrifying. Yeah. All the spit, I think is
what made it so terrifying. Um so, chuck, this is
our annual Halloween episode. I don't know if anyone told
you this yet. Are spook tacular? Yes, it's right. And
uh for those of you who have just found the
podcast recently and this is your first time, every Christmas
(00:50):
and Halloween we present an ad free episode for your enjoyment.
This has nothing to do with explaining anything. It's just
some spooky stories that we like to read and then
Jerry adds a little sound design. But apparently this year
it's up to us. That's right, So do you want
to do it? Let's do it? Okay, So I say
that we start with my pick, the Algerin in Blackwood
(01:13):
um story ancient lights, great dim the lights? Everybody get
whatever you do to get into the spooky mood. Um.
I don't know how you play it in your houses,
but dim the lights you do. Maybe get a cat
let it stare at you for a little while. It's
pretty creepy. That's the sweetest thing ever, a cat staring
(01:37):
at you. Sure. Maybe take the your witch's broom out
of the closet. Oh yeah, then that'll set a mood. Um.
Put up your cobwebs. Don't clean those out and put
them up. Yeah, what are you doing cleaning them out?
You need spiders to keep pesky bugs away, that's right,
(02:00):
and then you keep lizards to eat the spiders. That's right. See,
you did learn something today. I did. Okay, you're ready,
allow me to start, please, Jerry, if you please, thank you, Jerry.
Jerry's already asleep. This is ancient lights by Elgin and Blackwood.
(02:25):
From South Water where he left the train. The road
led due west that he knew for the rest he
trusted to luck, being one of those born walkers who
dislikes asking the way. He had that instinct, and as
a rule it served him well. A mile or so
due west along the Sandy Road till you come to
(02:46):
a style on the right, then across the fields, you'll
see the red house straight before you. He glanced at
the postcard's instructions once again, and once again he tried
to decipher the scratched out sentence, without success. It had
been so elaborately inked over that no word was legible.
Inked Out sentences in a letter were always enticing. He
(03:10):
wondered what it was that had to be so very
carefully obliterated. The afternoon was boisterous, with a tearing, shouting
wind that blew from the sea across the Sussex wheeld
have no idea what a wield This massive clouds with
round had piled up edges cannoned across gaping spaces of
(03:31):
blue sky far away. The line of downs swept the
horizon like an arriving wave. Chuck, dumberry ring which I
looked up. It's an old hill fort from years ago
and a Celtic temple. Okay, bear that in mind. So
this old hill fort, he's saying, rode the crest of
(03:52):
the horizon like a wave. Okay, a scudding ship holed
down before the wind. He took his hat off and
walked rapidly, breathing great drafts of air with delight and exhilaration.
This guy really liked walking. Man, he's the opposite of me.
You would this would be chucking a segway this whole
(04:13):
time right the road was deserted, no horseman, bicycles or motors,
not even a tradesman's cart, no single walker. But anyhow,
he would never have asked the way, keeping a sharp
eye for the style. And by the way, chuck, his
style is like a little thing that humans can use
to get over, like a cattle fence, but like cattle
(04:35):
can't get through, so like maybe steps on either side
of a fence style. Okay, m hmm, stupid cows. I
know I can't walk up steps. Keeping a sharp eye
for the style, he pounded along while the wind tossed
the cloak against his face and made waves across the
blue puddles and the yellow road. The trees showed their
under leaves of white, the bracken and the high new
(04:58):
grass bent all one way. Great life was in the day,
high spirits and dancing everywhere, And for a Croydon surveyor's
clerk just out of an office, this was like a
holiday at the sea. It was a day for high adventure,
and his heart rose up to meet the mood of nature.
His umbrella with the silver ring ought to have been
a sword, and his brown shoes should have been top
(05:21):
boots with spurs on the heels. Where hid the enchanted
castle in the princess with the hair of sunny gold.
His horse, the Style, suddenly came into view and nipped
adventure in the bud. Everyday clothes took him prisoner again.
He was a surveyor's clerk, middle aged, earning three pounds
a week, coming from Croydon to see about a client's
(05:42):
proposed alterations in a wood, something to ensure a better
view from the dining room window. Across the fields, perhaps
a mile away. He saw the red house gleaming in
the sunshine, and resting on the Style a moment to
get his breath, he noticed the copes of oak and
horn beam on the right. Aha, he told himself, so
that must be the wood he wants to cut down
(06:03):
to improve the view. I'll have a look at it.
There were boards up, of course, but there was an
inviting little path as well. I'm not a trespasser, he said,
It's part of my business. This is he scrambled awkwardly
over the gate and entered the copes. A little round
would bring him to the field again. My turn, take
(06:23):
it away, chuckers. All right, here we go. Should we
catch people up? What's this guy doing? He's walking a lot,
he's walking. He's walking, and he's going to be a
client who wants to cut down some woods. And he
thinks he's just now found the woods. All but the
moment he passed among the trees, the wind ceased shouting,
and a stillness dropped upon the world. So dense was
the growth that the sunshine only came through and isolated patches.
(06:46):
The air was close. He mopped his forehead, but his
green felt hat on, but a low branch knocked it
off again at once, and as he stooped, an elastic
twig swung back and stung his face. There were flowers along, sorry,
there were flowers along both edges of the little path,
(07:07):
glades open on either side, Ferns curved about in damper corners,
and the smell of earth and foliage was rich and sweet.
It was cooler here. What an enchanting little wood, he thought,
turning down a small green glade where the sunshine flickered
like silver wings. How it danced and fluttered and moved about.
(07:28):
He put a dark blue flower in his button hole.
M whatever floats your boat foal again? His hat caught
by an oak branch as he rose, was knocked from
his head, falling across his eyes. This guy's a mess,
and this time he did not put it on again.
Swinging his umbrella, he walked on with uncovered head, whistling
(07:51):
rather loudly as he went. But the thickness of the
trees hardly encouraged whistling, and something of his gaiety and
high spirit seemed to leave him. He suddenly found himself
treading circumspectly and with caution. The stillness in the wood
was so peculiar. There was a rustle among the ferns
and leaves, and something shot across the path ten yards ahead.
(08:12):
Stopped abruptly. An instant with head cocked sideways to stare,
then dived again beneath the underbrush with the speed of
a shadow. He started like a frightened child, laughing the
next second that a mere pheasant could have made him jump.
In the distance, he heard wheels upon the road and
wondered why the sound was pleasant good Old Butcher's Cot,
(08:33):
he said to himself, his accent changed. I guess I
like it. I'm not. I'm not sure where he's from.
Good Old Butcher's Cot, he said to himself. Then realized
that he was going in the wrong direction and had
somehow got turned round, for the road should be behind him,
not in front, and he hurriedly took another narrow glade
(08:54):
that lost itself in greenness to the right. That's my direction,
of course, he said. How he's show connor. I think
so all right. The trees has mixed me up a bit,
it seems. Then found himself abruptly by the gate he
had first climbed over. He had merely made a circle.
Surprise became almost discomfiture. Then it's a new one for me.
(09:18):
And a man dressed like a gamekeeper in brownie green
leaned against the gate, hitting his legs with a switch.
I'm making for Mr Lumley's farm, explained the walker. This
is his wood, I believe, then stopped dead because it
was no man at all, but merely an effect of
light and shade and foliage. He stepped back to reconstruct
(09:40):
the singular illusion, but the wind shook the branches roughly
here on the edge of the wood. The foliage refused
to reconstruct the figure, leaves all rustled strangely. Just then
the sun went behind a cloud, making the whole would
look otherwise. Yet how the mind could be thus doubly
deceived was indeed remarkable, for it almost seemed to him
the man had sward spoken, or was this the shuffling
(10:03):
noise the branches made, and had pointed with this switch
to the notice board upon the nearest tree. The words
rang on in his head, but of course he had
imagined them. No, it's not his wood, it's ours. That's
good stuff. And some village wit moreover had changed the
(10:23):
lettering on the weather beaten board, for it read quite plainly,
trespassers will be persecuted. Teenagers no skateboarding either. And while
the astonished clerk read the words and chuckled, he said
to himself, thinking what a tale he'd have to tell
his wife and children later. The blooming wood has tried
to chuck me out. But I'll go in again. Why
(10:45):
it's only a matter of a square acre at most.
I'm bound to reach the fields on the other side
if I keep straight on here This guy's really all
over the place of ny. I feel like he's kind
of settled into a real weird accent. But I like it.
He remembered his position in the office. He had a
certain dignity to maintain. So he's he's freaking out a
(11:07):
little bit, like the woods are like playing tricks on him.
It seems like the lst is kicking in for sure.
He's like, I shouldn't have plucked that weird mushroom from
that cow poop, okay, m The cloud passed from below
the sun and light splashed suddenly in all manner of
unlikely places. The man went straight on. He felt a
(11:29):
touch of puzzling confusion somewhere this way the copes had
of shifting from sunshine into shadow doubtless troubled site a little.
To his relief, at last a new glade open through
the trees and just closed the fields with the glimpse
of the red house in the distance at the far end.
But a little wicked gate that stood across the path
had to first be climbed, and as he scrambled heavily
(11:51):
over it for it would not open, he got the
astonishing feeling that it slid off sideways beneath his weight
toward the wood like the moving staircases at Herod's in
Earl's Court, and I think he's talking about escalators. It
began to glide off with him. It was quite horrible,
and he made a violent effort to get down before
(12:12):
it carried him into the trees. But his feet became
entangled with the bars and umbrella, so that he fell
heavily upon the farther side. Arms spread across the grass,
and nettles boots clutched between the first and second bars. Suddenly,
Benny Hill came around the corner. Maybe Jerry will add
yakety sacks to that part. Oh, that'd be great. He
(12:34):
lay there a moment like a man crucified upside down,
and while he struggled to get disentangled, feet, bars and
umbrella formed a regular net. He saw the little man
in Brownie Green go past him with extreme rapidity through
the wood. The man was laughing. He passed across the
glades some fifty yards away, and he was not alone
this time. A companion like himself went with him. The clerk,
(12:58):
now upon his feet again, watched them disappear into the
gloom of green beyond. You want to take this quote
that tramps not gamekeepers. He said to himself, half mortified,
half angry, apparently half deranged. But his heart was thumping dreadfully,
and he dared not utter all his thought. He examined
(13:19):
the wicket gate, convinced it was a trick gate somehow,
then went hurriedly on again, disturbed beyond belief to see
that the glade no longer opened into the fields, but
curved away to the right. What in the world had
happened to him? His sight was so utterly at fault again.
The sun flamed out abruptly and lit the floor of
woods with pools of silver, And at the same moment
(13:42):
a violent gust of wind passed, shouting overhead. Drops fell
clattering everywhere upon, the leaves making a sharp pattering as
of many footsteps. The whole coat shuddered and went moving
chuck brain by. George thought the clerk, and, feeling for
his umbrella, discovered he had lost it. He turned back
to the gate and found it lying on the farther side.
(14:04):
To his amazement, he saw the fields at the far
end of the glade. The red house too, shine in
the sunset. He laughed, then, for of course and his
struggles with the gate, he had somehow got turned around,
had fallen back instead of forwards. Climbing over this time
quite easily, he retraced his steps. The silver band he
saw had been torn off of the umbrella, no doubt,
(14:26):
his foot, a nail or something had caught in it
and ripped it off. The clerk began to run. He
felt extraordinarily dismayed. But while he ran, the entire wood
ran with him round him, to and fro, trees shifting
like living things, leaves folding and unfolding, trunks darting backwards
and forwards, and branches disclosing enormous empty spaces and then
(14:49):
closing up again before he could look into them. There
were footsteps everywhere, and laughing, crying voices, and crowds of
figures gathering just behind his back, till the glade he
knew was thick with moving life. The wind in his ears,
of course, produced the voices in the laughter, while the
sun and clouds plunging the copes alternately in shadow and
bright dazzling light, created the figures. But he did not
(15:12):
like it. And when as fast as ever his sturdy
legs could take it, he was frightened. Now this was
no story for his wife and children. He ran like
the wind, but his feet made no sound upon the soft,
mossy turf. Oh boy, it's getting real. It's getting surreal. Then,
to his horror, he saw that the glade grew narrow,
(15:35):
nettles and weeds stood thick across it. It dwindled down
into a tiny path, and twenty yards ahead it stopped
finally and melted off among the trees. What the trick
gate had failed to achieve, this twisting glade accomplished easily
carried him in bodily among the dense and crowding tree
(15:56):
You you wanna take his home? It s get freaky, Chuck.
There was only one thing to do. Turned sharply and
dash back again, run headlong into the life that followed
at his back, followed so closely too, that now it
almost touched him, pushing him in. And with reckless courage,
that was what he did. It seemed a fearful thing
(16:17):
to do. He turned with a sort of violent spring,
head down and shoulders forward, hands stretched before his face.
He made the plunge like a hunted creature. He charged
full tilt the other way, meeting the wind, and now
in his face. Good Lord, the glade behind him and
closed up as well. There was no longer any path
at all, Turning round and round like an animal at bay.
(16:38):
He searched for an opening, a way of escape, searched frantically, breathlessly,
terrified now in his bones. But foll leyad surrounded him.
Branches blocked the way. The tree stood close and still,
unshaken by a breath of wind, and the sun dipped
that moment behind a great black cloud. The entire wood
turned dark and silent, had watched him. Is not good
(17:01):
when the woods are watching you. That's bad news. It's
worse than a cat. That's like that Jodie Foster movie
from the seventies, The Watcher in the Woods. Was that
Jodie Foster? Yeah, I was so scary. I remember that one,
and Betty Davis I think too. That's right, we should
have just played that instead of doing this. I feel
like we just broke all the tension we'd built over
the last ten minutes. Okay, here we go, Everyone al right,
(17:23):
the woods are watching. Perhaps it was this final touch
of sudden blackness that made him act so foolishly, as
though he had really lost his head at any rate.
Without pausing to think, he dashed headlong in among the trees. Again,
there was a sensation of being stifling lye surrounded and entangled,
and that he must break out at all costs, out
in a way into the open of the blessed fields
(17:44):
and air. He did this ill considered thing, and apparently
charged straight into an oak that deliberately moved into his
path to stop him. He saw it shift across a
good full yard, and being a measuring man accustomed to
theodolite and chain, he ought to know, do you know
what that is? No? Do you the chain? I think
I mean he's a surveyor, says gut has something to
(18:05):
do with that. But who knows what the light is?
And I think it's a measuring compound. Sure he fell,
saw stars and felt a thousand tiny fingers tugging and
pulling in his hands and neck and ankles. The stinging nettles,
no doubt, were responsible for this, he thought of it later.
At the moment it felt diabolically calculated. But another remarkable
(18:26):
illusion was not so easily explained. For all, in a moment,
it seemed the entire wood went sliding past him with
a thick, deep rustling of leaves and laughter, myriad footsteps
and tiny little active energetic shapes. Two men in brownie
green gave him a mighty hoist, and he opened his
eyes to find himself lying in the meadow beside the
style where first his incredible adventure had begun. The wood
(18:50):
stood in its usual place and stared down upon him
in the sunlight. There was the red house in the
distance as before above him grinned the weather beaten noticeable
word trespassers will be prosecuted, disheveled in mind and body,
and a good deal shaken in his official soul. The
clerk walked slowly across the fields, but on the way
he glanced once more at the postcard of instructions and
(19:14):
saw with dull amazement that the inked out sentence was
quite legible after all. Beneath the scratches made across it,
there is a shortcut through the wood. The would I
want to cut down if you care to take it?
Only care was so badly written it looked more like
another word. The sea was uncommonly like d. That's the
(19:35):
copes that spoils my view of the downs. You see,
His client explained, to him, later, pointing across the fields
and referring to the ordinance map beside him. I want
to cut down in a path made so and so
it's precise. His finger indicated direction on the map. The
fairy Wood, it's still called, and it's far older than
(19:56):
this house. Come now, if you're ready, Mr Thomas, we
might go out and have a look at it. Oh boy.
So basically the shot, Oh yeah, there you got the end.
So basically the upshot of this one, Chuck, is that
this guy is very lucky that the possessed would spit
him out and didn't keep him in there forever like
(20:19):
that island did it too, Amelia Earhart, that's right? And
Rowse Beers man bringing the civil engineering horror that was
Algernon Blackwood. Would I say, Ambrose Beers, that's a common mistake,
it really. I like I like the I like Algernon Blackwood. Yeah,
he's great. He did the Empty House, which we read
(20:40):
once a few years back. So there you go. How
scared is everybody? Raise your hand if you're scared me.
That's not bad, not bad. Two out of three people
isn't bad. All right, So we're gonna move on to
Ed Garland Poe and uh, because it's in the public
don't main, dude, there's there. It's true, it is true,
(21:06):
it's in the public domain. I'm gonna get started in
my searching earlier next year. Yeah, or we could just
start saving up um and just like buy the rights
to read one. Yeah, I mean there are there are stories.
It's about getting in touch with the authors that are
still living. Sure, it's like I found a good Joyce
Carol oateswin and all she all she writes is the
(21:29):
best horror ever. For my money, I would say that
she's probably my favorite author in general, but I would
say she's probably the greatest horror writer of all time. Too. Well,
I'm gonna get in touch with her. We're gonna buddy
up over the next year. Oh good, we'll loot me
into that. Yeah, for sure, we're gonna bring the oats
next year. Okay, Yeah. I tweeted to her wants to
ask her, and she just ignored it. Really Yeah that
(21:52):
was before your big shot. No, this is like last year,
which I guess that that's the hole's true. So yes,
you're right. All right. Here we go with a story
by Edgar Allen Poe. Uh, noted drunk and drug addict
died in the street. Really, Oh yeah, Baltimore, right in
(22:13):
front of Powers Station Live. Yeah, is there a marker? Yes,
it's actually not right in front of it. It's like
a street or so over. And I don't remember if
it's this house or if it is the place where
he died. I think it is the spot where he died.
It's like a street or two over in Baltimore. Yeah,
it's worth visiting for sure. All right. So this is
a post short story called hop Frog silly name, ghoulish content.
(22:41):
Yes you ready? Do you want to start? You go ahead? No?
I finished that one. Don't you start this one? Okay? Uh, okay,
I don't have my imparstell either. We'll just wing it. Okay,
just uh just go coco cocoa or wink or something.
I don't know. All right, you're ready. H I never
(23:08):
knew anyone so keenly alive to a joke as the
King was. He seemed to live only for joking. To
tell a good story of the joke kind, and to
tell it well, was the surest road to his favor.
Thus it happened that his seven ministers were all noted
for their accomplishments as jokers. They all took after the
(23:29):
King too, in being large, corpulent, oily men, as well
as inimitable jokers. Whether people grow fat by joking, or
whether there is something in fat itself which p disposes
to joke, I've never been quite able to determine, But
certainly it is that a lean joker is a rara
avis in terrorists, said the heroin addict about the refinements, or,
(23:53):
as he called them, the ghost of wit. The King
troubled himself very little. He had an especial admiration for
breadth in a jest, and would often put up with
length for the sake of it. Over niceties wearied him.
He would have preferred, Man, this is gonna make zero
sense to anybody, but here we go. He would have
(24:14):
preferred Rabelais Gargantua to the Zadig of Voltaire, and upon
the whole, practical jokes suited his taste far better than
verbal ones. Getting a bit of a picture of this king,
he's a pull finger guy. Yeah, oh man, that's a
good one. At the date of my narrative, professing jesters
(24:35):
had not altogether gone out of fashion at court several
of the great continental powers still retain their fools, who
were motley with caps and bells, and who were expected
to be always ready with sharp witticisms at a moment's notice.
In consideration of the crumbs that fell from the royal table.
Our king, as a matter of course, retained his fool.
(24:56):
The fact is he required something in the way of folly,
if only to counterbalance the heavy wisdom of the seven
wise men, who were as ministers. Not to mention himself
his fool or professional jester. Was not only a fool, however,
his value was trebled in the eyes of the king
by the fact of his also being a dwarf and
(25:16):
a cripple. And it's about here they wanted to just
apologize on behalf of Beggar Allan Poe for some of
the descriptive terms that he uses throughout the short story.
But please bear with him and us. Yes, what he
meant to say was he was also a little person
who was handy, capable. That's right, nice nicely put again. Sorry,
(25:37):
Dwarfs were as common at court in those days as fools,
and many monarchs would have found it difficult to get
through their days. Days are rather long at court than elsewhere,
without both the jester to laugh with and a dwarf
to laugh at. But as I have already observed, your jesters,
in cases out of a hundred, are fat, round and unwieldy,
(25:57):
so that it was no small source of self congratulation
with our King that in hop Frog this was the
fool's name. He possessed a triplicate treasure in one person.
All right, me, let's do it, all right. I believe
the name hop Frog was not that given to the
doroth by his sponsors of baptism. That's probably a good guess.
I think that's a weird way to put parents. But
(26:20):
it was conferred upon him by general consent of the
several ministers on account of his inability to walk as
other men do. In fact, hop Frog could only get
along by a sort of interjectional gait, something between a
leap and a wriggle, a movement that afforded man that
word illimitable. I think he nailed it illimitable. Amusement, and
(26:46):
of course consolation to the king, for notwithstanding the protuberance
of his stomach and a constitutional swelling of the head,
the King, by his whole court was accounted a capital figure,
and galant Poe is super judge. Oh yeah, he had
so great looking he didn't Oh no, that's true. No
(27:06):
he wasn't, but he wasn't oily, I don't think. Okay,
But although hop Frog, through the distortion of his legs,
could move only with great pain and difficulty along a
road or floor, the prodigious muscular power which nature seemed
to have bestowed upon his arms by way of compensation
for deficiency in the lower limbs, enabled him to perform
(27:28):
many feats of wonderful dexterity where trees or ropes were
in question, or anything else to climb. At such exercises,
he certainly much more resembled a squirrel or a small
monkey than a frog. Alright, so this this guy uh
is h His legs don't work as well, but he's
(27:49):
got super strong upper body. Is that right? That's what
I'm getting, And he's a great climber as a result.
That's right. Here we go. I am not able to
say with precision from what country hop Frog originally came.
It was from some barbarous region. However, that no person
ever heard of a vast distance from the court of
our king, hop Frog and a young girl very little
(28:11):
less dwarfish than himself, although of exquisite proportions and a
marvelous dancer, had been forcibly carried off from their respective
homes in adjoining provinces and sent as presents to the
King by one of his ever victorious generals. Boy, this
is terrible. It's pretty dark. But I mean again, we're
(28:32):
talking Poe here. Yeah, that's right, and just wait, just
wait for it, everyone, just just wait. Under these circumstances,
it is not to be wondered at that a close
intimacy arose between the two little captives. Indeed, they soon
became sworn friends. Hop Frog, who, although he made a
great deal of sport, was by no means popular, had
(28:53):
it not in his power to render Trippetta many services.
Is that is that the lady Trippetta? Yeah, that's that's
the lady Okay. But she, on account of her grace
and exquisite beauty, although a dwarf, don't forget, just completely unnecessary. Oh,
(29:13):
her grace and exquisite was universally admired and petted. So
she possessed much influence and never failed to use it
whenever she could for the benefit of hop Frog. So
she's still a good friend. I like that. Oh yeah,
And and he to her even though he didn't really
have any power, that's right, which is surprising because a
lot of jesters were very powerful in the court. Yeah,
(29:34):
that's true. Didn't we do one on jesters? I think? So? Okay,
all right, on some grand state occasion, I forget what
the king determined to have a masquerade, And whenever a
masquerade or anything of that kind occurred at our court,
then the talents both of hop Frog and Trippetta were
sure to be called into play. Hot Frog, in a
special was so inventive in the way of getting up pageants,
(29:57):
suggesting novel characters and ray costumes for masked balls that
nothing could be done, it seems, without his assistance. So
hot Bro can throw a great party, he can't, and
apparently so cantrapet it too. All right, let me, I'll
do this one more. Ohh, I see. The night appointed
for the fete had arrived, A gorgeous hall had been
(30:18):
fitted up, under Trepetta's eye with every kind of device
which could possibly give eclat to a masquerade. The whole
court was in a fever of expectation, for costumes and characters.
Might well be supposed that everybody had come to a
decision on such points. Many had made up their minds
as to what roles they should assume a week or
(30:38):
even a month in advance. And in fact there was
not a particle of indecision anywhere except in the case
of the King and his seven ministers. Why they hesitated
I could never tell, unless they did it by way
of a joke. More probably, they found it difficult, on
account of being so fat to make up their minds
at all events. Time flew and as a last resort
(31:01):
they sent for Trippetta and hop Frog. Oh boy, all right,
so the deal is they're throwing this big ball. Everyone's
dressed up, everyone put a lot into it, except for
the King's seven ministers and his seven ministers, right right.
So they sent for Trippetta and hop Frog to say,
what should we do? Guys? We need some help here,
(31:22):
So can I start again? Okay? Mm hmmm mm hmm.
When the two little friends obeyed the summons of the King,
they found him sitting at his wine with the seven
members of his cabinet council. But the monarch appeared to
be in very ill humor. He knew that hop Frog
was not fond of wine, for it excited the poor
(31:44):
cripple almost to madness, and madness is no comfortable feeling.
But the King loved his practical jokes and took pleasure
in forcing hop Frog to drink. And as the King
called it to be merry and I just made air quotes. Everybody,
come here, hop Frog, said he as the jester and
his friend entered the room. Swallow this bumper to the
(32:06):
health of your abs and friends here hop Frog's side,
and then let us have the benefit of your invention.
We want characters, characters, man something novel out of the way.
We are wearied with this everlasting sameness. Come drink the
wine will brighten your wits. How's that for a king?
I mean, I'm no Chuck Bryant. That's okay. Hop Frog endeavored,
(32:29):
as usual to get up a jest in reply to
these advances from the king, but the effort was too much.
It happened to be the poor dwarf's birthday, and the
command to drink to his absent friends forced tears to
his eyes. Many large bitter drops fell into the goblet
as he took it humbly from the hand of the tyrant.
(32:50):
Ha ha ha, roared the ladder, as the dwarf reluctantly
drained the beaker. See what a glass of good wine
can do while your eyes are shining already, poor fellow,
his large eyes gleamed rather than shown, for the effective
wine on his excitable brain was not more powerful than instantaneous.
(33:11):
He placed the goblet nervously on the table and looked
around upon the company with a half insane stare. They
all seemed highly amused at the success of the King's joke.
You want me keep going, keep going? And now to business,
said the prime Minister of very fat man. Yes, said
the King, Come lend us your assistants characters, My fine fellow,
(33:34):
we stand in need of characters, all of us. Ha
ha ha. And as this was seriously meant for a joke,
his laugh was coursed by the seven nice hot frog
also laughed, although feebly and somewhat vacantly. I think he
did that, calm calm, said the king impatiently. Are you
(33:55):
nothing to suggest? I am endeavoring to think of something novel,
replied the dwarf abstractedly, for he was quite bewildered by
the wine. I know how I know what that's about. Yeah, alright,
go King Endeavoring, cried the tyrant fiercely, What do you
mean by that? I perceive your sulky and one more wine? Here,
(34:20):
drink this, And he poured out another gobletful and offered
it to the cripple, who merely gazed at it, gasping
for breath. Drink, I say, shouted the monster. Or by
the fiends, The dwarf hesitated. The king grew purple with rage.
The courtier smirked. Trippetta, pale as a corpse, advanced to
the monarch seat, and, falling on her knees before him,
(34:42):
implored and to spare her friend. The tyrant regarded her
for some moments, and evident wonder at her audacity. He
seemed quite at a loss what to do or say,
how most becomingly to express his indignation. At last, without
uttering a syllable, he pushed her violently from him, and
through the contents of the rimming goblet in her face.
The poor girl got up best she could, and, not
(35:04):
even daring to sigh, resumed her position at the foot
of the table. Man, I know it's hard out there
for a court minster. There was a dead silence for
about a half minute, during which the falling of a
leaf or of a feather might have been heard. It
was interrupted by a low, but harsh and protracted, grating sound,
which seemed to come out at once from every corner
(35:26):
of the room. What what what are you making that noise?
For the king? Michael Scott doing his weird voice. I
just realized that's great, demanded the King, turning furiously to
the dwarf. The latter seemed to have recovered in great
measure from his intoxication. That was quick and looking fixedly
(35:49):
but quietly into the tyrant's face, merely ejaculated. I I
how could it have been me? The sound appeared to
come from without, observed one of the courtiers. I fancy
it was the parrot at the window, whetting his bill
upon his cage wires. True, replied the monarch, as if
(36:10):
much relieved by the suggestion. But on the honor of
a night, I could have sworn that it was the
gritting of this vagabond's cheek. Here upon the dwarf laughed
the king. The king was too confirmed a joker to
object to anyone's laughing, and displayed a set of large, powerful,
(36:30):
and very repulsive teeth. Moreover, he avowed his perfect willingness
to swallow as much wine as desired. The monarch was pacified,
and having drained another bumper with no very perceptible ill effect,
hop Frog entered at once, and with spirit, and too
the plans for the masquerade. Take it away. Okay, well
(36:51):
this is a Hopfrog quote. Okay, you've been nailing it.
I cannot tell what the association of idea. More observed,
he very tranquil, and as if he had never tasted
wine in his life. But just after your majesty had
struck the girl and thrown the wine in her face,
just after your majesty had done this, and while the
parrot was making that odd noise out the window, there
(37:12):
came into my mind a capital diversion, one of my
own country frolics, often enacted among us at our masquerades.
But here it will be new altogether. Unfortunately, however, it
requires a company of eight persons and war or here
we are, cried the king, laughing at his acute discovery
of the coincidence. Eight to a fraction, I and my
(37:36):
seven ministers, come, what is the diversion? We call it
the eight chained orangutangs, and it really is excellent sport
of well inactive work. We will enact it, remarked the King,
drawing himself up and lowering his eyelids. The beauty of
the game lies in the fright it occasions among the women,
(37:58):
capital roared in chorus. The monarch in his ministry, I
will equip you as a rangutangs, proceeded the dwarf. Leave
all that to me. The resemblance shall be so striking
that the company of masquerados will take you for real beasts,
and of course they will be as much terrified as astonished.
(38:19):
Boor Oh, this is exquisite, exclaimed the King hop Frog.
I will make a man of you. I don't know
what's going on with the king. This is just how
excited he is. He's speaking through me right now. It's
very interesting to see everyone. Josh's eyes roll back in
(38:39):
his head every time he does it. The change for
the purpose of increasing the confusion by their jangling. You
are supposed to have escaped on mass from your keepers, boys,
really setting us up. Your majesty cannot conceive the effect
produced at a masquerade by eight chang to rangutangs imagine
to be real ones by most of the company, and
rushing in with savage cries among the crowd of delicately
(39:02):
and gorgeously habited men and women. The contrast is inimitable,
it must be said. The King and the council arose hurriedly,
as it was growing late, to put in execution the
scheme of hop frog alright, my turn, your turn. His
mode of equipping the party as orangutanks was very simple,
(39:24):
but effective enough for his purposes. The animals in question had,
at the epoch of my story very rarely been seen
in any part of the civilized world, and as the
imitations made by the drawer force sufficiently beast like and
more than sufficiently hideous, their truthfulness to nature was thus
thought to be secured. The King and his ministers were
(39:45):
first encased in tight fitting stocking net, shirts and drawers
like um uh, what are those called onesies? They were
then saturated with tar. This is where it gets kind
of painful. Really. At this age of the process, someone
of the party suggested feathers, but the suggestion was at
once overruled by the dwarf, who soon convinced the eight
(40:08):
by ocular demonstration that the hair of such a brood
as the orangutank was much more efficiently represented by flax.
A thick coating of the ladder was accordingly plastered upon
the coating of tar. A long chain was now procured.
First it was passed about the waist of the king,
and tied then about another of the party, and also
tied then about all successively in the same manner. When
(40:32):
this chaining arrangement was complete, and the parties stood as
far apart from each other as possible, they formed a circle.
And to make all things appear natural, hot Frog passed
the residue of the chains in two diameters at right
angles across the circle, after the fashion adopted at the
present day by those who captured chimpanzees or other large
(40:53):
apes in borneo. The story just keeps on given, doesn't it.
He got weirdly specific there, like Captain that one time
should I keep going. The grand saloon in which the
masquerade was to take place was a circular room, very
lofty and receiving the light of the sun only through
(41:13):
a single window at top at night, the season for
which the apartment was especially designed. It was illuminated principally
by a large chandelier, depending by a chain from the
center of the skylight, and lowered or elevated by means
of a counterbalance as usual, but in order not to
look unsightly, this ladder passed outside the cupola and over
(41:36):
the roof. So he got that okay. The arrangement of
the room had been left to Treppeta's superintendence, but in
some particulars it seems she had been guided by the
calmer judgment of her friend the dwarf, at his suggestion.
It was that on this occasion the chandelier was removed
it's wax and drippings, which, in weather so warm it
(41:57):
was quite impossible to prevent, would have been seriously detrimental
to the rich dresses of the guests, who, on account
of the crowded state of the saloon, could not all
be expected to keep from out at center, that is
to say, from under the chandelier. Additional scouces were set
in various parts of the hall out of the war,
and a flambeaux emitting a sweet odor was placed in
(42:18):
the right hand of each of the caryatids carryat caryatids
Carrie car Caryatids. What do you think it is? Uh, Carriot, Caryatides, Caryatids. Okay,
there you go. That stood against the wall, some fifty
or sixty altogether. So they got rid of this giant
(42:41):
chandelier that hung from a chain in the center of
the place where the masquerade ball was going to be held.
And now there's basically just a hole in the center
of the roof where the chain that held up the
this chandelier would have been. Writing tells me the King
and his guys are in for a surprise. Yeah, think
you might be right? All right, I can take it
(43:02):
away here, please do. The eight orangutangs, taking hop Frog's advice,
waited patiently until midnight, when the room was thoroughly filled
with masqueraders, before making their appearance. No sooner had the
clock sea striking, however, than they rushed, or rather rolled
in all together, for the impediments of their chains caused
most of the party to fall and all to stumble
(43:24):
as they entered. The excitement among the masqueraders was prodigious
and filled the heart of the king with glee. As
had been anticipated, there were not a few of the
guests who supposed the ferocious looking creatures to be beast
of some kind in reality, if not precisely orangutangs. Many
of the women swooned with a fright, and had not
(43:45):
the king taken the precaution to exclude all weapons from
the saloon, his party might soon have expiated their frolic
in their blood. Wow, so they looked so much like
orangutang's he feared he would have been killed. People are
expiating their blood as it was. A general rush was
made for the doors, but the king had ordered them
(44:05):
to be locked immediately upon his entrance, and at the
dwarf suggestion, the keys had been deposited with him while
the tumult was at its height, and each masquerader attentive
only to his own safety, for in fact it was
much real danger from the pressure of the excited crowd.
The chain by which the chandelier ordinarily hung, and which
(44:25):
had been drawn up on its removal, might have been
seen very gradually to descend until his hooked extremity came
within three feet of the floor. So there's a hubbub
going on, and no one notices this chain's being lowered
from the ceiling, right, Yeah, and it sounds like not
a lot of chivalry either, just a lot of pushing
and shoving, and every person for themselves. Okay, here we go.
(44:47):
Soon after this, the king and his seven friends, having
reeled about the hall in all directions, found themselves at
length in its center, and of course, in immediate contact
with the chain. While they were thus situated, the door,
who had followed noiselessly at their heels, inciting them to
keep up the commotion, took hold of their own chain
at the intersection of the two portions which crossed the
(45:11):
circle diametrically and at right angles. Here, with a rapidity
of thought, he inserted the hook from which the chandelier
had been wont to depend, and in an instant, by
some unseen agency, the chandelier chain was drawn so far
upward as to take the hook out of reach, and
as an inevitable consequence, to drag the orangutangs together in
(45:33):
close connection and face to face. The masqueraders, by this
time had recovered in some measure from their alarm, and
beginning to regard the whole matter as a well contrived pleasantry,
set up a loud shout of laughter. Predicament of the
apes lead them to me. Now, screamed hop Frog, his
(45:55):
shrill voice making itself easily heard through all the din
lead them to me. I fancy I know them. If
I can only get a good look at them, I
can soon tell who they are. Broad take us home.
Oh jeez, I was not expecting us here. Scrambling over
the heads of the crowd, he managed to get to
(46:15):
the wall when seizing a flambeaux. I think a torch
from from one of the let's just say torchy sconce
on the wall. Okay, he returned, and as he went
to the center of the room, leaping with the agility
of a monkey, upon the king's head, and thence clambered
a few feet up the chain, because remember he's got
(46:36):
that upper body strength, holding down the torch to examine
the group of orangutangs and still screaming, I shall soon
find out who they are, brock And now, while the
whole assembly, the apes included, were convulsed with laughter, the
jester suddenly uttered a shrill whistle when the chain flew
(46:58):
violently up for about thirty heat, dragging with it the
dismayed and struggling orangutanks and leaving them suspended in mid
air between the skylight and the floor. Hop Frog, clinging
to the chain as it rose, still maintained his relative
position in respect to the eight maskers, and, still, as
if nothing were the matter, continued to thrust his torch
(47:18):
down toward them, as though endeavoring to discover who they were.
So thoroughly astonished was the whole company at this ascent
that a dead silence of about a minute's duration ensued.
It was broken by just such a low, harsh, grating
sound as had before attracted the attention of the King
and his counselors when the former threw the wine in
(47:40):
the face of Trippetta. But on the present occasion there
could be no question as to whence the sound issued.
It came from the fanglike teeth of the dwarf, who
ground them and gnashed them as he foamed at the
mouth and glared with an expression of maniacal rage into
the upturned countenances of the King and his seven companions,
(48:03):
said at length, the infuriated jester, ah, I begin to
see who these people are now Here, pretending to scrutinize
the king more closely, he held the flambeau to the
flaxen coat, which enveloped him, and which instantly burst into
a sheet of vivid flat. In less than half a minute,
the whole eight orangutans were blazing fiercely amid the shrieks
(48:26):
of the multitude, who gazed at them from below, horror stricken,
and without the power to render them the slightest assistance
At length. The flames, suddenly increasing in virulence, forced the
jester to climb higher up the chain to be out
of their reach. And as he made this movement, the
crowd sank again for a brief instant into silence. The
(48:47):
dwarf seized this opportunity, and once more he spoke, And
now she distinctly, He said, what manner of people these
maskers are? They are a great king and his seven
privy councilors, the king who not scruple to strike a
defenseless girl, and his seven councilors who will bet him
in the outrage. As for myself, I am simply hot
(49:08):
frog the jesta, and this is my last guest fur Mike, Yeah,
he did. He dropped the mic while the king was
on fire. Owing to the high combustibility of both the
flax and the tar, to which it adhered. The dwarf
(49:30):
had scarcely made an end of his brief speech. Before
the work of vengeance was complete, the eight corpses swung
in their chains of fetid, black and hideous and indistinguishable
mass and leave it to Poe. He hurled his torch
at them, clambered leisurely to the ceiling, and disappeared through
the skylight. It is supposed that Trippetta, stationed on the
(49:53):
roof of the saloon, had been the accomplice of her
friend and his fiery revenge, and that together they affected
their a gape to their own country, for neither was
seen again. What get them? Hop Frog? Somebody needs to
name something hop Frog in honor of hop Frog and Tripetta.
I agree, because, uh boy, the king was a jerk.
(50:18):
He uh it was cruel. Don't forget oily oily, and
he got his come up and yeah, I would say
being burned alive is come up. And for sure in
a as an orangutang to say yeah, to say the
least insults injury. I want to say you got anything else,
(50:38):
but that would imply that you have like another short
story up your sleeve, do not? Well, that's it, everybody,
We want to wish you all a safe and happy Halloween. UM,
get scared, but not too scared, you know what I mean,
Like Algrian and Blackwood scared. How about that? Agreed? Uh
and we will see you next time with our regular
type of episode. But until the um so long Halloween,
(51:02):
everybody m
Hey, and welcome to the Spooky Halloween Podcast. I'm yeah
very nice. I'm Joshua Lander and Clark. There's Bride of
Chucky Bryant, and there's Jarifying Roland. Jerry said she has
no time for us this year, so we have to
make all our own sound effects with our own mouths.
That sounds good, that's cool, we can do that. Watch this.
(00:28):
That was terrifying. Yeah. All the spit, I think is
what made it so terrifying. Um so, chuck, this is
our annual Halloween episode. I don't know if anyone told
you this yet. Are spook tacular? Yes, it's right. And
uh for those of you who have just found the
podcast recently and this is your first time, every Christmas
(00:50):
and Halloween we present an ad free episode for your enjoyment.
This has nothing to do with explaining anything. It's just
some spooky stories that we like to read and then
Jerry adds a little sound design. But apparently this year
it's up to us. That's right, So do you want
to do it? Let's do it? Okay, So I say
that we start with my pick, the Algerin in Blackwood
(01:13):
um story ancient lights, great dim the lights? Everybody get
whatever you do to get into the spooky mood. Um.
I don't know how you play it in your houses,
but dim the lights you do. Maybe get a cat
let it stare at you for a little while. It's
pretty creepy. That's the sweetest thing ever, a cat staring
(01:37):
at you. Sure. Maybe take the your witch's broom out
of the closet. Oh yeah, then that'll set a mood. Um.
Put up your cobwebs. Don't clean those out and put
them up. Yeah, what are you doing cleaning them out?
You need spiders to keep pesky bugs away, that's right,
(02:00):
and then you keep lizards to eat the spiders. That's right. See,
you did learn something today. I did. Okay, you're ready,
allow me to start, please, Jerry, if you please, thank you, Jerry.
Jerry's already asleep. This is ancient lights by Elgin and Blackwood.
(02:25):
From South Water where he left the train. The road
led due west that he knew for the rest he
trusted to luck, being one of those born walkers who
dislikes asking the way. He had that instinct, and as
a rule it served him well. A mile or so
due west along the Sandy Road till you come to
(02:46):
a style on the right, then across the fields, you'll
see the red house straight before you. He glanced at
the postcard's instructions once again, and once again he tried
to decipher the scratched out sentence, without success. It had
been so elaborately inked over that no word was legible.
Inked Out sentences in a letter were always enticing. He
(03:10):
wondered what it was that had to be so very
carefully obliterated. The afternoon was boisterous, with a tearing, shouting
wind that blew from the sea across the Sussex wheeld
have no idea what a wield This massive clouds with
round had piled up edges cannoned across gaping spaces of
(03:31):
blue sky far away. The line of downs swept the
horizon like an arriving wave. Chuck, dumberry ring which I
looked up. It's an old hill fort from years ago
and a Celtic temple. Okay, bear that in mind. So
this old hill fort, he's saying, rode the crest of
(03:52):
the horizon like a wave. Okay, a scudding ship holed
down before the wind. He took his hat off and
walked rapidly, breathing great drafts of air with delight and exhilaration.
This guy really liked walking. Man, he's the opposite of me.
You would this would be chucking a segway this whole
(04:13):
time right the road was deserted, no horseman, bicycles or motors,
not even a tradesman's cart, no single walker. But anyhow,
he would never have asked the way, keeping a sharp
eye for the style. And by the way, chuck, his
style is like a little thing that humans can use
to get over, like a cattle fence, but like cattle
(04:35):
can't get through, so like maybe steps on either side
of a fence style. Okay, m hmm, stupid cows. I
know I can't walk up steps. Keeping a sharp eye
for the style, he pounded along while the wind tossed
the cloak against his face and made waves across the
blue puddles and the yellow road. The trees showed their
under leaves of white, the bracken and the high new
(04:58):
grass bent all one way. Great life was in the day,
high spirits and dancing everywhere, And for a Croydon surveyor's
clerk just out of an office, this was like a
holiday at the sea. It was a day for high adventure,
and his heart rose up to meet the mood of nature.
His umbrella with the silver ring ought to have been
a sword, and his brown shoes should have been top
(05:21):
boots with spurs on the heels. Where hid the enchanted
castle in the princess with the hair of sunny gold.
His horse, the Style, suddenly came into view and nipped
adventure in the bud. Everyday clothes took him prisoner again.
He was a surveyor's clerk, middle aged, earning three pounds
a week, coming from Croydon to see about a client's
(05:42):
proposed alterations in a wood, something to ensure a better
view from the dining room window. Across the fields, perhaps
a mile away. He saw the red house gleaming in
the sunshine, and resting on the Style a moment to
get his breath, he noticed the copes of oak and
horn beam on the right. Aha, he told himself, so
that must be the wood he wants to cut down
(06:03):
to improve the view. I'll have a look at it.
There were boards up, of course, but there was an
inviting little path as well. I'm not a trespasser, he said,
It's part of my business. This is he scrambled awkwardly
over the gate and entered the copes. A little round
would bring him to the field again. My turn, take
(06:23):
it away, chuckers. All right, here we go. Should we
catch people up? What's this guy doing? He's walking a lot,
he's walking. He's walking, and he's going to be a
client who wants to cut down some woods. And he
thinks he's just now found the woods. All but the
moment he passed among the trees, the wind ceased shouting,
and a stillness dropped upon the world. So dense was
the growth that the sunshine only came through and isolated patches.
(06:46):
The air was close. He mopped his forehead, but his
green felt hat on, but a low branch knocked it
off again at once, and as he stooped, an elastic
twig swung back and stung his face. There were flowers along, sorry,
there were flowers along both edges of the little path,
(07:07):
glades open on either side, Ferns curved about in damper corners,
and the smell of earth and foliage was rich and sweet.
It was cooler here. What an enchanting little wood, he thought,
turning down a small green glade where the sunshine flickered
like silver wings. How it danced and fluttered and moved about.
(07:28):
He put a dark blue flower in his button hole.
M whatever floats your boat foal again? His hat caught
by an oak branch as he rose, was knocked from
his head, falling across his eyes. This guy's a mess,
and this time he did not put it on again.
Swinging his umbrella, he walked on with uncovered head, whistling
(07:51):
rather loudly as he went. But the thickness of the
trees hardly encouraged whistling, and something of his gaiety and
high spirit seemed to leave him. He suddenly found himself
treading circumspectly and with caution. The stillness in the wood
was so peculiar. There was a rustle among the ferns
and leaves, and something shot across the path ten yards ahead.
(08:12):
Stopped abruptly. An instant with head cocked sideways to stare,
then dived again beneath the underbrush with the speed of
a shadow. He started like a frightened child, laughing the
next second that a mere pheasant could have made him jump.
In the distance, he heard wheels upon the road and
wondered why the sound was pleasant good Old Butcher's Cot,
(08:33):
he said to himself, his accent changed. I guess I
like it. I'm not. I'm not sure where he's from.
Good Old Butcher's Cot, he said to himself. Then realized
that he was going in the wrong direction and had
somehow got turned round, for the road should be behind him,
not in front, and he hurriedly took another narrow glade
(08:54):
that lost itself in greenness to the right. That's my direction,
of course, he said. How he's show connor. I think
so all right. The trees has mixed me up a bit,
it seems. Then found himself abruptly by the gate he
had first climbed over. He had merely made a circle.
Surprise became almost discomfiture. Then it's a new one for me.
(09:18):
And a man dressed like a gamekeeper in brownie green
leaned against the gate, hitting his legs with a switch.
I'm making for Mr Lumley's farm, explained the walker. This
is his wood, I believe, then stopped dead because it
was no man at all, but merely an effect of
light and shade and foliage. He stepped back to reconstruct
(09:40):
the singular illusion, but the wind shook the branches roughly
here on the edge of the wood. The foliage refused
to reconstruct the figure, leaves all rustled strangely. Just then
the sun went behind a cloud, making the whole would
look otherwise. Yet how the mind could be thus doubly
deceived was indeed remarkable, for it almost seemed to him
the man had sward spoken, or was this the shuffling
(10:03):
noise the branches made, and had pointed with this switch
to the notice board upon the nearest tree. The words
rang on in his head, but of course he had
imagined them. No, it's not his wood, it's ours. That's
good stuff. And some village wit moreover had changed the
(10:23):
lettering on the weather beaten board, for it read quite plainly,
trespassers will be persecuted. Teenagers no skateboarding either. And while
the astonished clerk read the words and chuckled, he said
to himself, thinking what a tale he'd have to tell
his wife and children later. The blooming wood has tried
to chuck me out. But I'll go in again. Why
(10:45):
it's only a matter of a square acre at most.
I'm bound to reach the fields on the other side
if I keep straight on here This guy's really all
over the place of ny. I feel like he's kind
of settled into a real weird accent. But I like it.
He remembered his position in the office. He had a
certain dignity to maintain. So he's he's freaking out a
(11:07):
little bit, like the woods are like playing tricks on him.
It seems like the lst is kicking in for sure.
He's like, I shouldn't have plucked that weird mushroom from
that cow poop, okay, m The cloud passed from below
the sun and light splashed suddenly in all manner of
unlikely places. The man went straight on. He felt a
(11:29):
touch of puzzling confusion somewhere this way the copes had
of shifting from sunshine into shadow doubtless troubled site a little.
To his relief, at last a new glade open through
the trees and just closed the fields with the glimpse
of the red house in the distance at the far end.
But a little wicked gate that stood across the path
had to first be climbed, and as he scrambled heavily
(11:51):
over it for it would not open, he got the
astonishing feeling that it slid off sideways beneath his weight
toward the wood like the moving staircases at Herod's in
Earl's Court, and I think he's talking about escalators. It
began to glide off with him. It was quite horrible,
and he made a violent effort to get down before
(12:12):
it carried him into the trees. But his feet became
entangled with the bars and umbrella, so that he fell
heavily upon the farther side. Arms spread across the grass,
and nettles boots clutched between the first and second bars. Suddenly,
Benny Hill came around the corner. Maybe Jerry will add
yakety sacks to that part. Oh, that'd be great. He
(12:34):
lay there a moment like a man crucified upside down,
and while he struggled to get disentangled, feet, bars and
umbrella formed a regular net. He saw the little man
in Brownie Green go past him with extreme rapidity through
the wood. The man was laughing. He passed across the
glades some fifty yards away, and he was not alone
this time. A companion like himself went with him. The clerk,
(12:58):
now upon his feet again, watched them disappear into the
gloom of green beyond. You want to take this quote
that tramps not gamekeepers. He said to himself, half mortified,
half angry, apparently half deranged. But his heart was thumping dreadfully,
and he dared not utter all his thought. He examined
(13:19):
the wicket gate, convinced it was a trick gate somehow,
then went hurriedly on again, disturbed beyond belief to see
that the glade no longer opened into the fields, but
curved away to the right. What in the world had
happened to him? His sight was so utterly at fault again.
The sun flamed out abruptly and lit the floor of
woods with pools of silver, And at the same moment
(13:42):
a violent gust of wind passed, shouting overhead. Drops fell
clattering everywhere upon, the leaves making a sharp pattering as
of many footsteps. The whole coat shuddered and went moving
chuck brain by. George thought the clerk, and, feeling for
his umbrella, discovered he had lost it. He turned back
to the gate and found it lying on the farther side.
(14:04):
To his amazement, he saw the fields at the far
end of the glade. The red house too, shine in
the sunset. He laughed, then, for of course and his
struggles with the gate, he had somehow got turned around,
had fallen back instead of forwards. Climbing over this time
quite easily, he retraced his steps. The silver band he
saw had been torn off of the umbrella, no doubt,
(14:26):
his foot, a nail or something had caught in it
and ripped it off. The clerk began to run. He
felt extraordinarily dismayed. But while he ran, the entire wood
ran with him round him, to and fro, trees shifting
like living things, leaves folding and unfolding, trunks darting backwards
and forwards, and branches disclosing enormous empty spaces and then
(14:49):
closing up again before he could look into them. There
were footsteps everywhere, and laughing, crying voices, and crowds of
figures gathering just behind his back, till the glade he
knew was thick with moving life. The wind in his ears,
of course, produced the voices in the laughter, while the
sun and clouds plunging the copes alternately in shadow and
bright dazzling light, created the figures. But he did not
(15:12):
like it. And when as fast as ever his sturdy
legs could take it, he was frightened. Now this was
no story for his wife and children. He ran like
the wind, but his feet made no sound upon the soft,
mossy turf. Oh boy, it's getting real. It's getting surreal. Then,
to his horror, he saw that the glade grew narrow,
(15:35):
nettles and weeds stood thick across it. It dwindled down
into a tiny path, and twenty yards ahead it stopped
finally and melted off among the trees. What the trick
gate had failed to achieve, this twisting glade accomplished easily
carried him in bodily among the dense and crowding tree
(15:56):
You you wanna take his home? It s get freaky, Chuck.
There was only one thing to do. Turned sharply and
dash back again, run headlong into the life that followed
at his back, followed so closely too, that now it
almost touched him, pushing him in. And with reckless courage,
that was what he did. It seemed a fearful thing
(16:17):
to do. He turned with a sort of violent spring,
head down and shoulders forward, hands stretched before his face.
He made the plunge like a hunted creature. He charged
full tilt the other way, meeting the wind, and now
in his face. Good Lord, the glade behind him and
closed up as well. There was no longer any path
at all, Turning round and round like an animal at bay.
(16:38):
He searched for an opening, a way of escape, searched frantically, breathlessly,
terrified now in his bones. But foll leyad surrounded him.
Branches blocked the way. The tree stood close and still,
unshaken by a breath of wind, and the sun dipped
that moment behind a great black cloud. The entire wood
turned dark and silent, had watched him. Is not good
(17:01):
when the woods are watching you. That's bad news. It's
worse than a cat. That's like that Jodie Foster movie
from the seventies, The Watcher in the Woods. Was that
Jodie Foster? Yeah, I was so scary. I remember that one,
and Betty Davis I think too. That's right, we should
have just played that instead of doing this. I feel
like we just broke all the tension we'd built over
the last ten minutes. Okay, here we go, Everyone al right,
(17:23):
the woods are watching. Perhaps it was this final touch
of sudden blackness that made him act so foolishly, as
though he had really lost his head at any rate.
Without pausing to think, he dashed headlong in among the trees. Again,
there was a sensation of being stifling lye surrounded and entangled,
and that he must break out at all costs, out
in a way into the open of the blessed fields
(17:44):
and air. He did this ill considered thing, and apparently
charged straight into an oak that deliberately moved into his
path to stop him. He saw it shift across a
good full yard, and being a measuring man accustomed to
theodolite and chain, he ought to know, do you know
what that is? No? Do you the chain? I think
I mean he's a surveyor, says gut has something to
(18:05):
do with that. But who knows what the light is?
And I think it's a measuring compound. Sure he fell,
saw stars and felt a thousand tiny fingers tugging and
pulling in his hands and neck and ankles. The stinging nettles,
no doubt, were responsible for this, he thought of it later.
At the moment it felt diabolically calculated. But another remarkable
(18:26):
illusion was not so easily explained. For all, in a moment,
it seemed the entire wood went sliding past him with
a thick, deep rustling of leaves and laughter, myriad footsteps
and tiny little active energetic shapes. Two men in brownie
green gave him a mighty hoist, and he opened his
eyes to find himself lying in the meadow beside the
style where first his incredible adventure had begun. The wood
(18:50):
stood in its usual place and stared down upon him
in the sunlight. There was the red house in the
distance as before above him grinned the weather beaten noticeable
word trespassers will be prosecuted, disheveled in mind and body,
and a good deal shaken in his official soul. The
clerk walked slowly across the fields, but on the way
he glanced once more at the postcard of instructions and
(19:14):
saw with dull amazement that the inked out sentence was
quite legible after all. Beneath the scratches made across it,
there is a shortcut through the wood. The would I
want to cut down if you care to take it?
Only care was so badly written it looked more like
another word. The sea was uncommonly like d. That's the
(19:35):
copes that spoils my view of the downs. You see,
His client explained, to him, later, pointing across the fields
and referring to the ordinance map beside him. I want
to cut down in a path made so and so
it's precise. His finger indicated direction on the map. The
fairy Wood, it's still called, and it's far older than
(19:56):
this house. Come now, if you're ready, Mr Thomas, we
might go out and have a look at it. Oh boy.
So basically the shot, Oh yeah, there you got the end.
So basically the upshot of this one, Chuck, is that
this guy is very lucky that the possessed would spit
him out and didn't keep him in there forever like
(20:19):
that island did it too, Amelia Earhart, that's right? And
Rowse Beers man bringing the civil engineering horror that was
Algernon Blackwood. Would I say, Ambrose Beers, that's a common mistake,
it really. I like I like the I like Algernon Blackwood. Yeah,
he's great. He did the Empty House, which we read
(20:40):
once a few years back. So there you go. How
scared is everybody? Raise your hand if you're scared me.
That's not bad, not bad. Two out of three people
isn't bad. All right, So we're gonna move on to
Ed Garland Poe and uh, because it's in the public
don't main, dude, there's there. It's true, it is true,
(21:06):
it's in the public domain. I'm gonna get started in
my searching earlier next year. Yeah, or we could just
start saving up um and just like buy the rights
to read one. Yeah, I mean there are there are stories.
It's about getting in touch with the authors that are
still living. Sure, it's like I found a good Joyce
Carol oateswin and all she all she writes is the
(21:29):
best horror ever. For my money, I would say that
she's probably my favorite author in general, but I would
say she's probably the greatest horror writer of all time. Too. Well,
I'm gonna get in touch with her. We're gonna buddy
up over the next year. Oh good, we'll loot me
into that. Yeah, for sure, we're gonna bring the oats
next year. Okay, Yeah. I tweeted to her wants to
ask her, and she just ignored it. Really Yeah that
(21:52):
was before your big shot. No, this is like last year,
which I guess that that's the hole's true. So yes,
you're right. All right. Here we go with a story
by Edgar Allen Poe. Uh, noted drunk and drug addict
died in the street. Really, Oh yeah, Baltimore, right in
(22:13):
front of Powers Station Live. Yeah, is there a marker? Yes,
it's actually not right in front of it. It's like
a street or so over. And I don't remember if
it's this house or if it is the place where
he died. I think it is the spot where he died.
It's like a street or two over in Baltimore. Yeah,
it's worth visiting for sure. All right. So this is
a post short story called hop Frog silly name, ghoulish content.
(22:41):
Yes you ready? Do you want to start? You go ahead? No?
I finished that one. Don't you start this one? Okay? Uh, okay,
I don't have my imparstell either. We'll just wing it. Okay,
just uh just go coco cocoa or wink or something.
I don't know. All right, you're ready. H I never
(23:08):
knew anyone so keenly alive to a joke as the
King was. He seemed to live only for joking. To
tell a good story of the joke kind, and to
tell it well, was the surest road to his favor.
Thus it happened that his seven ministers were all noted
for their accomplishments as jokers. They all took after the
(23:29):
King too, in being large, corpulent, oily men, as well
as inimitable jokers. Whether people grow fat by joking, or
whether there is something in fat itself which p disposes
to joke, I've never been quite able to determine, But
certainly it is that a lean joker is a rara
avis in terrorists, said the heroin addict about the refinements, or,
(23:53):
as he called them, the ghost of wit. The King
troubled himself very little. He had an especial admiration for
breadth in a jest, and would often put up with
length for the sake of it. Over niceties wearied him.
He would have preferred, Man, this is gonna make zero
sense to anybody, but here we go. He would have
(24:14):
preferred Rabelais Gargantua to the Zadig of Voltaire, and upon
the whole, practical jokes suited his taste far better than
verbal ones. Getting a bit of a picture of this king,
he's a pull finger guy. Yeah, oh man, that's a
good one. At the date of my narrative, professing jesters
(24:35):
had not altogether gone out of fashion at court several
of the great continental powers still retain their fools, who
were motley with caps and bells, and who were expected
to be always ready with sharp witticisms at a moment's notice.
In consideration of the crumbs that fell from the royal table.
Our king, as a matter of course, retained his fool.
(24:56):
The fact is he required something in the way of folly,
if only to counterbalance the heavy wisdom of the seven
wise men, who were as ministers. Not to mention himself
his fool or professional jester. Was not only a fool, however,
his value was trebled in the eyes of the king
by the fact of his also being a dwarf and
(25:16):
a cripple. And it's about here they wanted to just
apologize on behalf of Beggar Allan Poe for some of
the descriptive terms that he uses throughout the short story.
But please bear with him and us. Yes, what he
meant to say was he was also a little person
who was handy, capable. That's right, nice nicely put again. Sorry,
(25:37):
Dwarfs were as common at court in those days as fools,
and many monarchs would have found it difficult to get
through their days. Days are rather long at court than elsewhere,
without both the jester to laugh with and a dwarf
to laugh at. But as I have already observed, your jesters,
in cases out of a hundred, are fat, round and unwieldy,
(25:57):
so that it was no small source of self congratulation
with our King that in hop Frog this was the
fool's name. He possessed a triplicate treasure in one person.
All right, me, let's do it, all right. I believe
the name hop Frog was not that given to the
doroth by his sponsors of baptism. That's probably a good guess.
I think that's a weird way to put parents. But
(26:20):
it was conferred upon him by general consent of the
several ministers on account of his inability to walk as
other men do. In fact, hop Frog could only get
along by a sort of interjectional gait, something between a
leap and a wriggle, a movement that afforded man that
word illimitable. I think he nailed it illimitable. Amusement, and
(26:46):
of course consolation to the king, for notwithstanding the protuberance
of his stomach and a constitutional swelling of the head,
the King, by his whole court was accounted a capital figure,
and galant Poe is super judge. Oh yeah, he had
so great looking he didn't Oh no, that's true. No
(27:06):
he wasn't, but he wasn't oily, I don't think. Okay,
But although hop Frog, through the distortion of his legs,
could move only with great pain and difficulty along a
road or floor, the prodigious muscular power which nature seemed
to have bestowed upon his arms by way of compensation
for deficiency in the lower limbs, enabled him to perform
(27:28):
many feats of wonderful dexterity where trees or ropes were
in question, or anything else to climb. At such exercises,
he certainly much more resembled a squirrel or a small
monkey than a frog. Alright, so this this guy uh
is h His legs don't work as well, but he's
(27:49):
got super strong upper body. Is that right? That's what
I'm getting, And he's a great climber as a result.
That's right. Here we go. I am not able to
say with precision from what country hop Frog originally came.
It was from some barbarous region. However, that no person
ever heard of a vast distance from the court of
our king, hop Frog and a young girl very little
(28:11):
less dwarfish than himself, although of exquisite proportions and a
marvelous dancer, had been forcibly carried off from their respective
homes in adjoining provinces and sent as presents to the
King by one of his ever victorious generals. Boy, this
is terrible. It's pretty dark. But I mean again, we're
(28:32):
talking Poe here. Yeah, that's right, and just wait, just
wait for it, everyone, just just wait. Under these circumstances,
it is not to be wondered at that a close
intimacy arose between the two little captives. Indeed, they soon
became sworn friends. Hop Frog, who, although he made a
great deal of sport, was by no means popular, had
(28:53):
it not in his power to render Trippetta many services.
Is that is that the lady Trippetta? Yeah, that's that's
the lady Okay. But she, on account of her grace
and exquisite beauty, although a dwarf, don't forget, just completely unnecessary. Oh,
(29:13):
her grace and exquisite was universally admired and petted. So
she possessed much influence and never failed to use it
whenever she could for the benefit of hop Frog. So
she's still a good friend. I like that. Oh yeah,
And and he to her even though he didn't really
have any power, that's right, which is surprising because a
lot of jesters were very powerful in the court. Yeah,
(29:34):
that's true. Didn't we do one on jesters? I think? So? Okay,
all right, on some grand state occasion, I forget what
the king determined to have a masquerade, And whenever a
masquerade or anything of that kind occurred at our court,
then the talents both of hop Frog and Trippetta were
sure to be called into play. Hot Frog, in a
special was so inventive in the way of getting up pageants,
(29:57):
suggesting novel characters and ray costumes for masked balls that
nothing could be done, it seems, without his assistance. So
hot Bro can throw a great party, he can't, and
apparently so cantrapet it too. All right, let me, I'll
do this one more. Ohh, I see. The night appointed
for the fete had arrived, A gorgeous hall had been
(30:18):
fitted up, under Trepetta's eye with every kind of device
which could possibly give eclat to a masquerade. The whole
court was in a fever of expectation, for costumes and characters.
Might well be supposed that everybody had come to a
decision on such points. Many had made up their minds
as to what roles they should assume a week or
(30:38):
even a month in advance. And in fact there was
not a particle of indecision anywhere except in the case
of the King and his seven ministers. Why they hesitated
I could never tell, unless they did it by way
of a joke. More probably, they found it difficult, on
account of being so fat to make up their minds
at all events. Time flew and as a last resort
(31:01):
they sent for Trippetta and hop Frog. Oh boy, all right,
so the deal is they're throwing this big ball. Everyone's
dressed up, everyone put a lot into it, except for
the King's seven ministers and his seven ministers, right right.
So they sent for Trippetta and hop Frog to say,
what should we do? Guys? We need some help here,
(31:22):
So can I start again? Okay? Mm hmmm mm hmm.
When the two little friends obeyed the summons of the King,
they found him sitting at his wine with the seven
members of his cabinet council. But the monarch appeared to
be in very ill humor. He knew that hop Frog
was not fond of wine, for it excited the poor
(31:44):
cripple almost to madness, and madness is no comfortable feeling.
But the King loved his practical jokes and took pleasure
in forcing hop Frog to drink. And as the King
called it to be merry and I just made air quotes. Everybody,
come here, hop Frog, said he as the jester and
his friend entered the room. Swallow this bumper to the
(32:06):
health of your abs and friends here hop Frog's side,
and then let us have the benefit of your invention.
We want characters, characters, man something novel out of the way.
We are wearied with this everlasting sameness. Come drink the
wine will brighten your wits. How's that for a king?
I mean, I'm no Chuck Bryant. That's okay. Hop Frog endeavored,
(32:29):
as usual to get up a jest in reply to
these advances from the king, but the effort was too much.
It happened to be the poor dwarf's birthday, and the
command to drink to his absent friends forced tears to
his eyes. Many large bitter drops fell into the goblet
as he took it humbly from the hand of the tyrant.
(32:50):
Ha ha ha, roared the ladder, as the dwarf reluctantly
drained the beaker. See what a glass of good wine
can do while your eyes are shining already, poor fellow,
his large eyes gleamed rather than shown, for the effective
wine on his excitable brain was not more powerful than instantaneous.
(33:11):
He placed the goblet nervously on the table and looked
around upon the company with a half insane stare. They
all seemed highly amused at the success of the King's joke.
You want me keep going, keep going? And now to business,
said the prime Minister of very fat man. Yes, said
the King, Come lend us your assistants characters, My fine fellow,
(33:34):
we stand in need of characters, all of us. Ha
ha ha. And as this was seriously meant for a joke,
his laugh was coursed by the seven nice hot frog
also laughed, although feebly and somewhat vacantly. I think he
did that, calm calm, said the king impatiently. Are you
(33:55):
nothing to suggest? I am endeavoring to think of something novel,
replied the dwarf abstractedly, for he was quite bewildered by
the wine. I know how I know what that's about. Yeah, alright,
go King Endeavoring, cried the tyrant fiercely, What do you
mean by that? I perceive your sulky and one more wine? Here,
(34:20):
drink this, And he poured out another gobletful and offered
it to the cripple, who merely gazed at it, gasping
for breath. Drink, I say, shouted the monster. Or by
the fiends, The dwarf hesitated. The king grew purple with rage.
The courtier smirked. Trippetta, pale as a corpse, advanced to
the monarch seat, and, falling on her knees before him,
(34:42):
implored and to spare her friend. The tyrant regarded her
for some moments, and evident wonder at her audacity. He
seemed quite at a loss what to do or say,
how most becomingly to express his indignation. At last, without
uttering a syllable, he pushed her violently from him, and
through the contents of the rimming goblet in her face.
The poor girl got up best she could, and, not
(35:04):
even daring to sigh, resumed her position at the foot
of the table. Man, I know it's hard out there
for a court minster. There was a dead silence for
about a half minute, during which the falling of a
leaf or of a feather might have been heard. It
was interrupted by a low, but harsh and protracted, grating sound,
which seemed to come out at once from every corner
(35:26):
of the room. What what what are you making that noise?
For the king? Michael Scott doing his weird voice. I
just realized that's great, demanded the King, turning furiously to
the dwarf. The latter seemed to have recovered in great
measure from his intoxication. That was quick and looking fixedly
(35:49):
but quietly into the tyrant's face, merely ejaculated. I I
how could it have been me? The sound appeared to
come from without, observed one of the courtiers. I fancy
it was the parrot at the window, whetting his bill
upon his cage wires. True, replied the monarch, as if
(36:10):
much relieved by the suggestion. But on the honor of
a night, I could have sworn that it was the
gritting of this vagabond's cheek. Here upon the dwarf laughed
the king. The king was too confirmed a joker to
object to anyone's laughing, and displayed a set of large, powerful,
(36:30):
and very repulsive teeth. Moreover, he avowed his perfect willingness
to swallow as much wine as desired. The monarch was pacified,
and having drained another bumper with no very perceptible ill effect,
hop Frog entered at once, and with spirit, and too
the plans for the masquerade. Take it away. Okay, well
(36:51):
this is a Hopfrog quote. Okay, you've been nailing it.
I cannot tell what the association of idea. More observed,
he very tranquil, and as if he had never tasted
wine in his life. But just after your majesty had
struck the girl and thrown the wine in her face,
just after your majesty had done this, and while the
parrot was making that odd noise out the window, there
(37:12):
came into my mind a capital diversion, one of my
own country frolics, often enacted among us at our masquerades.
But here it will be new altogether. Unfortunately, however, it
requires a company of eight persons and war or here
we are, cried the king, laughing at his acute discovery
of the coincidence. Eight to a fraction, I and my
(37:36):
seven ministers, come, what is the diversion? We call it
the eight chained orangutangs, and it really is excellent sport
of well inactive work. We will enact it, remarked the King,
drawing himself up and lowering his eyelids. The beauty of
the game lies in the fright it occasions among the women,
(37:58):
capital roared in chorus. The monarch in his ministry, I
will equip you as a rangutangs, proceeded the dwarf. Leave
all that to me. The resemblance shall be so striking
that the company of masquerados will take you for real beasts,
and of course they will be as much terrified as astonished.
(38:19):
Boor Oh, this is exquisite, exclaimed the King hop Frog.
I will make a man of you. I don't know
what's going on with the king. This is just how
excited he is. He's speaking through me right now. It's
very interesting to see everyone. Josh's eyes roll back in
(38:39):
his head every time he does it. The change for
the purpose of increasing the confusion by their jangling. You
are supposed to have escaped on mass from your keepers, boys,
really setting us up. Your majesty cannot conceive the effect
produced at a masquerade by eight chang to rangutangs imagine
to be real ones by most of the company, and
rushing in with savage cries among the crowd of delicately
(39:02):
and gorgeously habited men and women. The contrast is inimitable,
it must be said. The King and the council arose hurriedly,
as it was growing late, to put in execution the
scheme of hop frog alright, my turn, your turn. His
mode of equipping the party as orangutanks was very simple,
(39:24):
but effective enough for his purposes. The animals in question had,
at the epoch of my story very rarely been seen
in any part of the civilized world, and as the
imitations made by the drawer force sufficiently beast like and
more than sufficiently hideous, their truthfulness to nature was thus
thought to be secured. The King and his ministers were
(39:45):
first encased in tight fitting stocking net, shirts and drawers
like um uh, what are those called onesies? They were
then saturated with tar. This is where it gets kind
of painful. Really. At this age of the process, someone
of the party suggested feathers, but the suggestion was at
once overruled by the dwarf, who soon convinced the eight
(40:08):
by ocular demonstration that the hair of such a brood
as the orangutank was much more efficiently represented by flax.
A thick coating of the ladder was accordingly plastered upon
the coating of tar. A long chain was now procured.
First it was passed about the waist of the king,
and tied then about another of the party, and also
tied then about all successively in the same manner. When
(40:32):
this chaining arrangement was complete, and the parties stood as
far apart from each other as possible, they formed a circle.
And to make all things appear natural, hot Frog passed
the residue of the chains in two diameters at right
angles across the circle, after the fashion adopted at the
present day by those who captured chimpanzees or other large
(40:53):
apes in borneo. The story just keeps on given, doesn't it.
He got weirdly specific there, like Captain that one time
should I keep going. The grand saloon in which the
masquerade was to take place was a circular room, very
lofty and receiving the light of the sun only through
(41:13):
a single window at top at night, the season for
which the apartment was especially designed. It was illuminated principally
by a large chandelier, depending by a chain from the
center of the skylight, and lowered or elevated by means
of a counterbalance as usual, but in order not to
look unsightly, this ladder passed outside the cupola and over
(41:36):
the roof. So he got that okay. The arrangement of
the room had been left to Treppeta's superintendence, but in
some particulars it seems she had been guided by the
calmer judgment of her friend the dwarf, at his suggestion.
It was that on this occasion the chandelier was removed
it's wax and drippings, which, in weather so warm it
(41:57):
was quite impossible to prevent, would have been seriously detrimental
to the rich dresses of the guests, who, on account
of the crowded state of the saloon, could not all
be expected to keep from out at center, that is
to say, from under the chandelier. Additional scouces were set
in various parts of the hall out of the war,
and a flambeaux emitting a sweet odor was placed in
(42:18):
the right hand of each of the caryatids carryat caryatids
Carrie car Caryatids. What do you think it is? Uh, Carriot, Caryatides, Caryatids. Okay,
there you go. That stood against the wall, some fifty
or sixty altogether. So they got rid of this giant
(42:41):
chandelier that hung from a chain in the center of
the place where the masquerade ball was going to be held.
And now there's basically just a hole in the center
of the roof where the chain that held up the
this chandelier would have been. Writing tells me the King
and his guys are in for a surprise. Yeah, think
you might be right? All right, I can take it
(43:02):
away here, please do. The eight orangutangs, taking hop Frog's advice,
waited patiently until midnight, when the room was thoroughly filled
with masqueraders, before making their appearance. No sooner had the
clock sea striking, however, than they rushed, or rather rolled
in all together, for the impediments of their chains caused
most of the party to fall and all to stumble
(43:24):
as they entered. The excitement among the masqueraders was prodigious
and filled the heart of the king with glee. As
had been anticipated, there were not a few of the
guests who supposed the ferocious looking creatures to be beast
of some kind in reality, if not precisely orangutangs. Many
of the women swooned with a fright, and had not
(43:45):
the king taken the precaution to exclude all weapons from
the saloon, his party might soon have expiated their frolic
in their blood. Wow, so they looked so much like
orangutang's he feared he would have been killed. People are
expiating their blood as it was. A general rush was
made for the doors, but the king had ordered them
(44:05):
to be locked immediately upon his entrance, and at the
dwarf suggestion, the keys had been deposited with him while
the tumult was at its height, and each masquerader attentive
only to his own safety, for in fact it was
much real danger from the pressure of the excited crowd.
The chain by which the chandelier ordinarily hung, and which
(44:25):
had been drawn up on its removal, might have been
seen very gradually to descend until his hooked extremity came
within three feet of the floor. So there's a hubbub
going on, and no one notices this chain's being lowered
from the ceiling, right, Yeah, and it sounds like not
a lot of chivalry either, just a lot of pushing
and shoving, and every person for themselves. Okay, here we go.
(44:47):
Soon after this, the king and his seven friends, having
reeled about the hall in all directions, found themselves at
length in its center, and of course, in immediate contact
with the chain. While they were thus situated, the door,
who had followed noiselessly at their heels, inciting them to
keep up the commotion, took hold of their own chain
at the intersection of the two portions which crossed the
(45:11):
circle diametrically and at right angles. Here, with a rapidity
of thought, he inserted the hook from which the chandelier
had been wont to depend, and in an instant, by
some unseen agency, the chandelier chain was drawn so far
upward as to take the hook out of reach, and
as an inevitable consequence, to drag the orangutangs together in
(45:33):
close connection and face to face. The masqueraders, by this
time had recovered in some measure from their alarm, and
beginning to regard the whole matter as a well contrived pleasantry,
set up a loud shout of laughter. Predicament of the
apes lead them to me. Now, screamed hop Frog, his
(45:55):
shrill voice making itself easily heard through all the din
lead them to me. I fancy I know them. If
I can only get a good look at them, I
can soon tell who they are. Broad take us home.
Oh jeez, I was not expecting us here. Scrambling over
the heads of the crowd, he managed to get to
(46:15):
the wall when seizing a flambeaux. I think a torch
from from one of the let's just say torchy sconce
on the wall. Okay, he returned, and as he went
to the center of the room, leaping with the agility
of a monkey, upon the king's head, and thence clambered
a few feet up the chain, because remember he's got
(46:36):
that upper body strength, holding down the torch to examine
the group of orangutangs and still screaming, I shall soon
find out who they are, brock And now, while the
whole assembly, the apes included, were convulsed with laughter, the
jester suddenly uttered a shrill whistle when the chain flew
(46:58):
violently up for about thirty heat, dragging with it the
dismayed and struggling orangutanks and leaving them suspended in mid
air between the skylight and the floor. Hop Frog, clinging
to the chain as it rose, still maintained his relative
position in respect to the eight maskers, and, still, as
if nothing were the matter, continued to thrust his torch
(47:18):
down toward them, as though endeavoring to discover who they were.
So thoroughly astonished was the whole company at this ascent
that a dead silence of about a minute's duration ensued.
It was broken by just such a low, harsh, grating
sound as had before attracted the attention of the King
and his counselors when the former threw the wine in
(47:40):
the face of Trippetta. But on the present occasion there
could be no question as to whence the sound issued.
It came from the fanglike teeth of the dwarf, who
ground them and gnashed them as he foamed at the
mouth and glared with an expression of maniacal rage into
the upturned countenances of the King and his seven companions,
(48:03):
said at length, the infuriated jester, ah, I begin to
see who these people are now Here, pretending to scrutinize
the king more closely, he held the flambeau to the
flaxen coat, which enveloped him, and which instantly burst into
a sheet of vivid flat. In less than half a minute,
the whole eight orangutans were blazing fiercely amid the shrieks
(48:26):
of the multitude, who gazed at them from below, horror stricken,
and without the power to render them the slightest assistance
At length. The flames, suddenly increasing in virulence, forced the
jester to climb higher up the chain to be out
of their reach. And as he made this movement, the
crowd sank again for a brief instant into silence. The
(48:47):
dwarf seized this opportunity, and once more he spoke, And
now she distinctly, He said, what manner of people these
maskers are? They are a great king and his seven
privy councilors, the king who not scruple to strike a
defenseless girl, and his seven councilors who will bet him
in the outrage. As for myself, I am simply hot
(49:08):
frog the jesta, and this is my last guest fur Mike, Yeah,
he did. He dropped the mic while the king was
on fire. Owing to the high combustibility of both the
flax and the tar, to which it adhered. The dwarf
(49:30):
had scarcely made an end of his brief speech. Before
the work of vengeance was complete, the eight corpses swung
in their chains of fetid, black and hideous and indistinguishable
mass and leave it to Poe. He hurled his torch
at them, clambered leisurely to the ceiling, and disappeared through
the skylight. It is supposed that Trippetta, stationed on the
(49:53):
roof of the saloon, had been the accomplice of her
friend and his fiery revenge, and that together they affected
their a gape to their own country, for neither was
seen again. What get them? Hop Frog? Somebody needs to
name something hop Frog in honor of hop Frog and Tripetta.
I agree, because, uh boy, the king was a jerk.
(50:18):
He uh it was cruel. Don't forget oily oily, and
he got his come up and yeah, I would say
being burned alive is come up. And for sure in
a as an orangutang to say yeah, to say the
least insults injury. I want to say you got anything else,
(50:38):
but that would imply that you have like another short
story up your sleeve, do not? Well, that's it, everybody,
We want to wish you all a safe and happy Halloween. UM,
get scared, but not too scared, you know what I mean,
Like Algrian and Blackwood scared. How about that? Agreed? Uh
and we will see you next time with our regular
type of episode. But until the um so long Halloween,
(51:02):
everybody m
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Josh Clark
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