FIRSTBRANCH——MYSELF
　　Ihavekeptonesecretinthecourseofmylife。Iamabashfulman。Nobodywouldsupposeit，nobodyeverdoessupposeit，nobodyeverdidsupposeit，butIamnaturallyabashfulman。ThisisthesecretwhichIhaveneverbreatheduntilnow。
　　ImightgreatlymovethereaderbysomeaccountoftheinnumerableplacesIhavenotbeento，theinnumerablepeopleIhavenotcalleduponorreceived，theinnumerablesocialevasionsIhavebeenguiltyof，solelybecauseIambyoriginalconstitutionandcharacterabashfulman。ButIwillleavethereaderunmoved，andproceedwiththeobjectbeforeme。
　　ThatobjectistogiveaplainaccountofmytravelsanddiscoveriesintheHolly—TreeInn；inwhichplaceofgoodentertainmentformanandbeastIwasoncesnowedup。
　　IthappenedinthememorableyearwhenIpartedforeverfromAngelaLeath，whomIwasshortlytohavemarried，onmakingthediscoverythatshepreferredmybosomfriend。Fromourschool—daysIhadfreelyadmittedEdwin，inmyownmind，tobefarsuperiortomyself；
　　and，thoughIwasgrievouslywoundedatheart，Ifeltthepreferencetobenatural，andtriedtoforgivethemboth。ItwasunderthesecircumstancesthatIresolvedtogotoAmerica——onmywaytotheDevil。
　　CommunicatingmydiscoveryneithertoAngelanortoEdwin，butresolvingtowriteeachofthemanaffectingletterconveyingmyblessingandforgiveness，whichthesteam—tenderforshoreshouldcarrytothepostwhenImyselfshouldbeboundfortheNewWorld，farbeyondrecall，——Isay，lockingupmygriefinmyownbreast，andconsolingmyselfasIcouldwiththeprospectofbeinggenerous，I
　　quietlyleftallIhelddear，andstartedonthedesolatejourneyI
　　havementioned。
　　Thedeadwinter—timewasinfulldrearinesswhenIleftmychambersforever，atfiveo’clockinthemorning。Ihadshavedbycandle—
　　light，ofcourse，andwasmiserablycold，andexperiencedthatgeneralall—pervadingsensationofgettinguptobehangedwhichI
　　haveusuallyfoundinseparablefromuntimelyrisingundersuchcircumstances。
　　HowwellIremembertheforlornaspectofFleetStreetwhenIcameoutoftheTemple！Thestreet—lampsflickeringinthegustynorth—
　　eastwind，asiftheverygaswerecontortedwithcold；thewhite—
　　toppedhouses；thebleak，star—lightedsky；themarketpeopleandotherearlystragglers，trottingtocirculatetheiralmostfrozenblood；thehospitablelightandwarmthofthefewcoffee—shopsandpublic—housesthatwereopenforsuchcustomers；thehard，dry，frostyrimewithwhichtheairwascharged（thewindhadalreadybeatenitintoeverycrevice），andwhichlashedmyfacelikeasteelwhip。
　　Itwantedninedaystotheendofthemonth，andendoftheyear。
　　ThePost—officepacketfortheUnitedStateswastodepartfromLiverpool，weatherpermitting，onthefirstoftheensuingmonth，andIhadtheinterveningtimeonmyhands。Ihadtakenthisintoconsideration，andhadresolvedtomakeavisittoacertainspot（whichIneednotname）onthefartherbordersofYorkshire。ItwasendearedtomebymyhavingfirstseenAngelaatafarmhouseinthatplace，andmymelancholywasgratifiedbytheideaoftakingawintryleaveofitbeforemyexpatriation。Ioughttoexplain，that，toavoidbeingsoughtoutbeforemyresolutionshouldhavebeenrenderedirrevocablebybeingcarriedintofulleffect，IhadwrittentoAngelaovernight，inmyusualmanner，lamentingthaturgentbusiness，ofwhichsheshouldknowallparticularsby—and—by—
　　—tookmeunexpectedlyawayfromherforaweekortendays。
　　TherewasnoNorthernRailwayatthattime，andinitsplacetherewerestage—coaches；whichIoccasionallyfindmyself，incommonwithsomeotherpeople，affectingtolamentnow，butwhicheverybodydreadedasaveryseriouspenancethen。Ihadsecuredthebox—seatonthefastestofthese，andmybusinessinFleetStreetwastogetintoacabwithmyportmanteau，sotomakethebestofmywaytothePeacockatIslington，whereIwastojointhiscoach。ButwhenoneofourTemplewatchmen，whocarriedmyportmanteauintoFleetStreetforme，toldmeaboutthehugeblocksoficethathadforsomedayspastbeenfloatingintheriver，havingclosedupinthenight，andmadeawalkfromtheTempleGardensovertotheSurreyshore，I
　　begantoaskmyselfthequestion，whetherthebox—seatwouldnotbelikelytoputasuddenandafrostyendtomyunhappiness。Iwasheart—broken，itistrue，andyetIwasnotquitesofargoneastowishtobefrozentodeath。
　　WhenIgotuptothePeacock，——whereIfoundeverybodydrinkinghotpurl，inself—preservation，——Iaskediftherewereaninsideseattospare。Ithendiscoveredthat，insideorout，Iwastheonlypassenger。Thisgavemeastilllivelierideaofthegreatinclemencyoftheweather，sincethatcoachalwaysloadedparticularlywell。However，Itookalittlepurl（whichIfounduncommonlygood），andgotintothecoach。WhenIwasseated，theybuiltmeupwithstrawtothewaist，and，consciousofmakingaratherridiculousappearance，Ibeganmyjourney。
　　ItwasstilldarkwhenweleftthePeacock。Foralittlewhile，pale，uncertainghostsofhousesandtreesappearedandvanished，andthenitwashard，black，frozenday。Peoplewerelightingtheirfires；smokewasmountingstraightuphighintotherarifiedair；
　　andwewererattlingforHighgateArchwayoverthehardestgroundI
　　haveeverheardtheringofironshoeson。Aswegotintothecountry，everythingseemedtohavegrownoldandgray。Theroads，thetrees，thatchedroofsofcottagesandhomesteads，thericksinfarmers’yards。Out—doorworkwasabandoned，horse—troughsatroad—
　　sideinnswerefrozenhard，nostragglersloungedabout，doorswerecloseshut，littleturnpikehouseshadblazingfiresinside，andchildren（eventurnpikepeoplehavechildren，andseemtolikethem）
　　rubbedthefrostfromthelittlepanesofglasswiththeirchubbyarms，thattheirbrighteyesmightcatchaglimpseofthesolitarycoachgoingby。Idon’tknowwhenthesnowbegintosetin；butI
　　knowthatwewerechanginghorsessomewherewhenIheardtheguardremark，"Thattheoldladyupintheskywaspickinghergeeseprettyhardto—day。"Then，indeed，Ifoundthewhitedownfallingfastandthick。
　　Thelonelydayworeon，andIdozeditout，asalonelytravellerdoes。Iwaswarmandvaliantaftereatinganddrinking，——
　　particularlyafterdinner；coldanddepressedatallothertimes。I
　　wasalwaysbewilderedastotimeandplace，andalwaysmoreorlessoutofmysenses。ThecoachandhorsesseemedtoexecuteinchorusAuldLangSyne，withoutamoment’sintermission。Theykeptthetimeandtunewiththegreatestregularity，androseintotheswellatthebeginningoftheRefrain，withaprecisionthatworriedmetodeath。Whilewechangedhorses，theguardandcoachmanwentstumpingupanddowntheroad，printingofftheirshoesinthesnow，andpouredsomuchliquidconsolationintothemselveswithoutbeinganytheworseforit，thatIbegantoconfoundthem，asitdarkenedagain，withtwogreatwhitecasksstandingonend。Ourhorsestumbleddowninsolitaryplaces，andwegotthemup，——whichwasthepleasantestvarietyIhad，foritwarmedme。Anditsnowedandsnowed，andstillitsnowed，andneverleftoffsnowing。Allnightlongwewentoninthismanner。Thuswecameroundtheclock，upontheGreatNorthRoad，totheperformanceofAuldLangSynebydayagain。Anditsnowedandsnowed，andstillitsnowed，andneverleftoffsnowing。
　　Iforgetnowwherewewereatnoononthesecondday，andwhereweoughttohavebeen；butIknowthatwewerescoresofmilesbehindhand，andthatourcasewasgrowingworseeveryhour。Thedriftwasbecomingprodigiouslydeep；landmarksweregettingsnowedout；theroadandthefieldswereallone；insteadofhavingfencesandhedge—rowstoguideus，wewentcrunchingonoveranunbrokensurfaceofghastlywhitethatmightsinkbeneathusatanymomentanddropusdownawholehillside。Stillthecoachmanandguard——
　　whokepttogetheronthebox，alwaysincouncil，andlookingwellaboutthem——madeoutthetrackwithastonishingsagacity。
　　Whenwecameinsightofatown，itlooked，tomyfancy，likealargedrawingonaslate，withabundanceofslate—pencilexpendedonthechurchesandhouseswherethesnowlaythickest。Whenwecamewithinatown，andfoundthechurchclocksallstopped，thedial—
　　faceschokedwithsnow，andtheinn—signsblottedout，itseemedasifthewholeplacewereovergrownwithwhitemoss。Astothecoach，itwasameresnowball；similarly，themenandboyswhoranalongbesideustothetown’send，turningourcloggedwheelsandencouragingourhorses，weremenandboysofsnow；andthebleakwildsolitudetowhichtheyatlastdismisseduswasasnowySahara。
　　Onewouldhavethoughtthisenough：notwithstandingwhich，Ipledgemywordthatitsnowedandsnowed，andstillitsnowed，andneverleftoffsnowing。
　　WeperformedAuldLangSynethewholeday；seeingnothing，outoftownsandvillages，butthetrackofstoats，hares，andfoxes，andsometimesofbirds。Atnineo’clockatnight，onaYorkshiremoor，acheerfulburstfromourhorn，andawelcomesoundoftalking，withaglimmeringandmovingaboutoflanterns，rousedmefrommydrowsystate。Ifoundthatweweregoingtochange。
　　Theyhelpedmeout，andIsaidtoawaiter，whosebareheadbecameaswhiteasKingLear’sinasingleminute，"WhatInnisthis？"
　　"TheHolly—Tree，sir，"saidhe。
　　"Uponmyword，Ibelieve，"saidI，apologetically，totheguardandcoachman，"thatImuststophere。"
　　Nowthelandlord，andthelandlady，andtheostler，andthepost—
　　boy，andallthestableauthorities，hadalreadyaskedthecoachman，tothewide—eyedinterestofalltherestoftheestablishment，ifhemeanttogoon。Thecoachmanhadalreadyreplied，"Yes，he’dtakeherthroughit，"——meaningbyHerthecoach，——"ifsobeasGeorgewouldstandbyhim。"Georgewastheguard，andhehadalreadyswornthathewouldstandbyhim。Sothehelperswerealreadygettingthehorsesout。
　　Mydeclaringmyselfbeaten，afterthisparley，wasnotanannouncementwithoutpreparation。Indeed，butforthewaytotheannouncementbeingsmoothedbytheparley，Imorethandoubtwhether，asaninnatelybashfulman，Ishouldhavehadtheconfidencetomakeit。Asitwas，itreceivedtheapprovalevenoftheguardandcoachman。Therefore，withmanyconfirmationsofmyinclining，andmanyremarksfromonebystandertoanother，thatthegentlemancouldgofor’ardbythemailto—morrow，whereasto—nighthewouldonlybefroze，andwherewasthegoodofagentlemanbeingfroze——ah，letaloneburiedalive（whichlatterclausewasaddedbyahumoroushelperasajokeatmyexpense，andwasextremelywellreceived），Isawmyportmanteaugotoutstiff，likeafrozenbody；
　　didthehandsomethingbytheguardandcoachman；wishedthemgood—
　　nightandaprosperousjourney；and，alittleashamedofmyself，afterall，forleavingthemtofightitoutalone，followedthelandlord，landlady，andwaiteroftheHolly—Treeup—stairs。
　　IthoughtIhadneverseensuchalargeroomasthatintowhichtheyshowedme。Ithadfivewindows，withdarkredcurtainsthatwouldhaveabsorbedthelightofageneralillumination；andtherewerecomplicationsofdraperyatthetopofthecurtains，thatwentwanderingaboutthewallinamostextraordinarymanner。Iaskedforasmallerroom，andtheytoldmetherewasnosmallerroom。
　　Theycouldscreenmein，however，thelandlordsaid。Theybroughtagreatoldjapannedscreen，withnatives（Japanese，Isuppose）
　　engagedinavarietyofidioticpursuitsalloverit；andleftmeroastingwholebeforeanimmensefire。
　　Mybedroomwassomequarterofamileoff，upagreatstaircaseattheendofalonggallery；andnobodyknowswhatamiserythisistoabashfulmanwhowouldrathernotmeetpeopleonthestairs。ItwasthegrimmestroomIhaveeverhadthenightmarein；andallthefurniture，fromthefourpostsofthebedtothetwooldsilvercandle—sticks，wastall，high—shouldered，andspindle—waisted。
　　Below，inmysitting—room，ifIlookedroundmyscreen，thewindrushedatmelikeamadbull；ifIstucktomyarm—chair，thefirescorchedmetothecolourofanewbrick。Thechimney—piecewasveryhigh，andtherewasabadglass——whatImaycallawavyglass——
　　aboveit，which，whenIstoodup，justshowedmemyanteriorphrenologicaldevelopments，——andtheseneverlookwell，inanysubject，cutshortoffattheeyebrow。IfIstoodwithmybacktothefire，agloomyvaultofdarknessaboveandbeyondthescreeninsistedonbeinglookedat；and，initsdimremoteness，thedraperyofthetencurtainsofthefivewindowswenttwistingandcreepingabout，likeanestofgiganticworms。
　　IsupposethatwhatIobserveinmyselfmustbeobservedbysomeothermenofsimilarcharacterinthemselves；thereforeIamemboldenedtomention，that，whenItravel，IneverarriveataplacebutIimmediatelywanttogoawayfromit。BeforeIhadfinishedmysupperofbroiledfowlandmulledport，Ihadimpresseduponthewaiterindetailmyarrangementsfordepartureinthemorning。Breakfastandbillateight。Flyatnine。Twohorses，or，ifneedful，evenfour。
　　TiredthoughIwas，thenightappearedaboutaweeklong。Incasesofnightmare，IthoughtofAngela，andfeltmoredepressedthaneverbythereflectionthatIwasontheshortestroadtoGretnaGreen。
　　WhathadItodowithGretnaGreen？IwasnotgoingthatwaytotheDevil，butbytheAmericanroute，Iremarkedinmybitterness。
　　InthemorningIfoundthatitwassnowingstill，thatithadsnowedallnight，andthatIwassnowedup。Nothingcouldgetoutofthatspotonthemoor，orcouldcomeatit，untiltheroadhadbeencutoutbylabourersfromthemarket—town。WhentheymightcuttheirwaytotheHolly—Treenobodycouldtellme。
　　ItwasnowChristmas—eve。IshouldhavehadadismalChristmas—timeofitanywhere，andconsequentlythatdidnotsomuchmatter；still，beingsnowedupwaslikedyingoffrost，athingIhadnotbargainedfor。Ifeltverylonely。YetIcouldnomorehaveproposedtothelandlordandlandladytoadmitmetotheirsociety（thoughIshouldhavelikedit——verymuch）thanIcouldhaveaskedthemtopresentmewithapieceofplate。Heremygreatsecret，therealbashfulnessofmycharacter，istobeobserved。Likemostbashfulmen，Ijudgeofotherpeopleasiftheywerebashfultoo。Besidesbeingfartooshamefacedtomaketheproposalmyself，Ireallyhadadelicatemisgivingthatitwouldbeinthelastdegreedisconcertingtothem。
　　Tryingtosettledown，therefore，inmysolitude，Ifirstofallaskedwhatbookstherewereinthehouse。ThewaiterbroughtmeaBookofRoads，twoorthreeoldNewspapers，alittleSong—Book，terminatinginacollectionofToastsandSentiments，alittleJest—
　　Book，anoddvolumeofPeregrinePickle，andtheSentimentalJourney。Ikneweverywordofthetwolastalready，butIreadthemthroughagain，thentriedtohumallthesongs（AuldLangSynewasamongthem）；wententirelythroughthejokes，——inwhichIfoundafundofmelancholyadaptedtomystateofmind；proposedallthetoasts，enunciatedallthesentiments，andmasteredthepapers。Thelatterhadnothinginthembutstockadvertisements，ameetingaboutacountyrate，andahighwayrobbery。AsIamagreedyreader，I
　　couldnotmakethissupplyholdoutuntilnight；itwasexhaustedbytea—time。Beingthenentirelycastuponmyownresources，Igotthroughanhourinconsideringwhattodonext。Ultimately，itcameintomyhead（fromwhichIwasanxiousbyanymeanstoexcludeAngelaandEdwin），thatIwouldendeavourtorecallmyexperienceofInns，andwouldtryhowlongitlastedme。Istirredthefire，movedmychairalittletoonesideofthescreen，——notdaringtogofar，forIknewthewindwaswaitingtomakearushatme，Icouldhearitgrowling，——andbegan。
　　MyfirstimpressionsofanInndatedfromtheNursery；consequentlyIwentbacktotheNurseryforastarting—point，andfoundmyselfatthekneeofasallowwomanwithafishyeye，anaquilinenose，andagreengown，whosespeciallywasadismalnarrativeofalandlordbytheroadside，whosevisitorsunaccountablydisappearedformanyyears，untilitwasdiscoveredthatthepursuitofhislifehadbeentoconvertthemintopies。Forthebetterdevotionofhimselftothisbranchofindustry，hehadconstructedasecretdoorbehindtheheadofthebed；andwhenthevisitor（oppressedwithpie）hadfallenasleep，thiswickedlandlordwouldlooksoftlyinwithalampinonehandandaknifeintheother，wouldcuthisthroat，andwouldmakehimintopies；forwhichpurposehehadcoppers，underneathatrap—door，alwaysboiling；androlledouthispastryinthedeadofthenight。Yetevenhewasnotinsensibletothestingsofconscience，forheneverwenttosleepwithoutbeingheardtomutter，"Toomuchpepper！"whichwaseventuallythecauseofhisbeingbroughttojustice。Ihadnosoonerdisposedofthiscriminalthantherestartedupanotherofthesameperiod，whoseprofessionwasoriginallyhouse—breaking；inthepursuitofwhicharthehadhadhisrightearchoppedoffonenight，ashewasburglariouslygettinginatawindow，byabraveandlovelyservant—maid（whomtheaquiline—nosedwoman，thoughnotatallansweringthedescription，alwaysmysteriouslyimpliedtobeherself）。Afterseveralyears，thisbraveandlovelyservant—maidwasmarriedtothelandlordofacountryInn；whichlandlordhadthisremarkablecharacteristic，thathealwaysworeasilknightcap，andneverwouldonanyconsiderationtakeitoff。Atlast，onenight，whenhewasfastasleep，thebraveandlovelywomanlifteduphissilknightcapontherightside，andfoundthathehadnoearthere；uponwhichshesagaciouslyperceivedthathewastheclippedhousebreaker，whohadmarriedherwiththeintentionofputtinghertodeath。Sheimmediatelyheatedthepokerandterminatedhiscareer，forwhichshewastakentoKingGeorgeuponhisthrone，andreceivedthecomplimentsofroyaltyonhergreatdiscretionandvalour。Thissamenarrator，whohadaGhoulishpleasure，Ihavelongbeenpersuaded，interrifyingmetotheutmostconfinesofmyreason，hadanotherauthenticanecdotewithinherownexperience，founded，Inowbelieve，uponRaymondandAgnes，ortheBleedingNun。Shesaidithappenedtoherbrother—in—law，whowasimmenselyrich，——whichmyfatherwasnot；andimmenselytall，——whichmyfatherwasnot。ItwasalwaysapointwiththisGhoultopresentmyclearestrelationsandfriendstomyyouthfulmindundercircumstancesofdisparagingcontrast。Thebrother—in—lawwasridingoncethroughaforestonamagnificenthorse（wehadnomagnificenthorseatourhouse），attendedbyafavouriteandvaluableNewfoundlanddog（wehadnodog），whenhefoundhimselfbenighted，andcametoanInn。Adarkwomanopenedthedoor，andheaskedherifhecouldhaveabedthere。Sheansweredyes，andputhishorseinthestable，andtookhimintoaroomwherethereweretwodarkmen。Whilehewasatsupper，aparrotintheroombegantotalk，saying，"Blood，blood！Wipeuptheblood！"Uponwhichoneofthedarkmenwrungtheparrot’sneck，andsaidhewasfondofroastedparrots，andhemeanttohavethisoneforbreakfastinthemorning。Aftereatinganddrinkingheartily，theimmenselyrich，tallbrother—in—lawwentuptobed；buthewasrathervexed，becausetheyhadshuthisdoginthestable，sayingthattheyneveralloweddogsinthehouse。Hesatveryquietformorethananhour，thinkingandthinking，when，justashiscandlewasburningout，heheardascratchatthedoor。Heopenedthedoor，andtherewastheNewfoundlanddog！Thedogcamesoftlyin，smeltabouthim，wentstraighttosomestrawinthecornerwhichthedarkmenhadsaidcoveredapples，torethestrawaway，anddisclosedtwosheetssteepedinblood。Justatthatmomentthecandlewentout，andthebrother—in—law，lookingthroughachinkinthedoor，sawthetwodarkmenstealingup—stairs；onearmedwithadaggerthatlong（aboutfivefeet）；theothercarryingachopper，asack，andaspade。Havingnoremembranceofthecloseofthisadventure，I
　　supposemyfacultiestohavebeenalwayssofrozenwithterroratthisstageofit，thatthepoweroflisteningstagnatedwithinmeforsomequarterofanhour。
　　Thesebarbarousstoriescarriedme，sittingthereontheHolly—Treehearth，totheRoadsideInn，renownedinmytimeinasixpennybookwithafoldingplate，representinginacentralcompartmentofovalformtheportraitofJonathanBradford，andinfourcornercompartmentsfourincidentsofthetragedywithwhichthenameisassociated，——colouredwithahandatoncesofreeandeconomical，thatthebloomofJonathan’scomplexionpassedwithoutanypauseintothebreechesoftheostler，and，smearingitselfoffintothenextdivision，becameruminabottle。ThenIrememberedhowthelandlordwasfoundatthemurderedtraveller’sbedside，withhisownknifeathisfeet，andblooduponhishand；howhewashangedforthemurder，notwithstandinghisprotestationthathehadindeedcometheretokillthetravellerforhissaddle—bags，buthadbeenstrickenmotionlessonfindinghimalreadyslain；andhowtheostler，yearsafterwards，ownedthedeed。BythistimeIhadmademyselfquiteuncomfortable。Istirredthefire，andstoodwithmybacktoitaslongasIcouldbeartheheat，lookingupatthedarknessbeyondthescreen，andatthewormycurtainscreepinginandcreepingout，likethewormsintheballadofAlonzotheBraveandtheFairImogene。
　　TherewasanInninthecathedraltownwhereIwenttoschool，whichhadpleasanterrecollectionsaboutitthananyofthese。Itookitnext。ItwastheInnwherefriendsusedtoputup，andwhereweusedtogotoseeparents，andtohavesalmonandfowls，andbetipped。Ithadanecclesiasticalsign，——theMitre，——andabarthatseemedtobethenextbestthingtoabishopric，itwassosnug。I
　　lovedthelandlord’syoungestdaughtertodistraction，——butletthatpass。ItwasinthisInnthatIwascriedoverbymyrosylittlesister，becauseIhadacquiredablackeyeinafight。Andthoughshehadbeen，thatHolly—Treenight，formanyalongyearwherealltearsaredried，theMitresoftenedmeyet。
　　"Tobecontinuedto—morrow，"saidI，whenItookmycandletogotobed。Butmybedtookituponitselftocontinuethetrainofthoughtthatnight。Itcarriedmeaway，liketheenchantedcarpet，toadistantplace（thoughstillinEngland），andthere，alightingfromastage—coachatanotherInninthesnow，asIhadactuallydonesomeyearsbefore，IrepeatedinmysleepacuriousexperienceIhadreallyhadthere。MorethanayearbeforeImadethejourneyinthecourseofwhichIputupatthatInn，Ihadlostaverynearanddearfriendbydeath。Everynightsince，athomeorawayfromhome，Ihaddreamedofthatfriend；sometimesasstillliving；
　　sometimesasreturningfromtheworldofshadowstocomfortme；
　　alwaysasbeingbeautiful，placid，andhappy，neverinassociationwithanyapproachtofearordistress。ItwasatalonelyInninawidemoorlandplace，thatIhaltedtopassthenight。WhenIhadlookedfrommybedroomwindowoverthewasteofsnowonwhichthemoonwasshining，Isatdownbymyfiretowritealetter。Ihadalways，untilthathour，keptitwithinmyownbreastthatIdreamedeverynightofthedearlostone。ButintheletterthatIwroteI
　　recordedthecircumstance，andaddedthatIfeltmuchinterestedinprovingwhetherthesubjectofmydreamwouldstillbefaithfultome，travel—tired，andinthatremoteplace。No。Ilostthebelovedfigureofmyvisioninpartingwiththesecret。Mysleephasneverlookeduponitsince，insixteenyears，butonce。IwasinItaly，andawoke（orseemedtoawake），thewell—rememberedvoicedistinctlyinmyears，conversingwithit。Ientreatedit，asitroseabovemybedandsoareduptothevaultedroofoftheoldroom，toanswermeaquestionIhadaskedtouchingtheFutureLife。Myhandswerestilloutstretchedtowardsitasitvanished，whenIheardabellringingbythegardenwall，andavoiceinthedeepstillnessofthenightcallingonallgoodChristianstoprayforthesoulsofthedead；itbeingAllSouls’Eve。
　　ToreturntotheHolly—Tree。WhenIawokenextday，itwasfreezinghard，andtheloweringskythreatenedmoresnow。Mybreakfastclearedaway，Idrewmychairintoitsformerplace，and，withthefiregettingsomuchthebetterofthelandscapethatIsatintwilight，resumedmyInnremembrances。
　　ThatwasagoodInndowninWiltshirewhereIputuponce，inthedaysofthehardWiltshireale，andbeforeallbeerwasbitterness。
　　ItwasontheskirtsofSalisburyPlain，andthemidnightwindthatrattledmylatticewindowcamemoaningatmefromStonehenge。Therewasahanger—onatthatestablishment（asupernaturallypreservedDruidIbelievehimtohavebeen，andtobestill），withlongwhitehair，andaflintyblueeyealwayslookingafaroff；whoclaimedtohavebeenashepherd，andwhoseemedtobeeverwatchingforthereappearance，onthevergeofthehorizon，ofsomeghostlyflockofsheepthathadbeenmuttonformanyages。HewasamanwithaweirdbeliefinhimthatnoonecouldcountthestonesofStonehengetwice，andmakethesamenumberofthem；likewise，thatanyonewhocountedthemthreetimesninetimes，andthenstoodinthecentreandsaid，"Idare！"wouldbeholdatremendousapparition，andbestrickendead。Hepretendedtohaveseenabustard（Isuspecthimtohavebeenfamiliarwiththedodo），inmannerfollowing：Hewasoutupontheplainatthecloseofalateautumnday，whenhedimlydiscerned，goingonbeforehimatacuriousfitfullyboundingpace，whatheatfirstsupposedtobeagig—umbrellathathadbeenblownfromsomeconveyance，butwhathepresentlybelievedtobealeandwarfmanuponalittlepony。Havingfollowedthisobjectforsomedistancewithoutgainingonit，andhavingcalledtoitmanytimeswithoutreceivinganyanswer，hepursueditformilesandmiles，when，atlengthcomingupwithit，hediscoveredittobethelastbustardinGreatBritain，degeneratedintoawinglessstate，andrunningalongtheground。Resolvedtocapturehimorperishintheattempt，heclosedwiththebustard；butthebustard，whohadformedacounter—resolutionthatheshoulddoneither，threwhim，stunnedhim，andwaslastseenmakingoffduewest。Thisweirdmain，atthatstageofmetempsychosis，mayhavebeenasleep—walkeroranenthusiastorarobber；butIawokeonenighttofindhiminthedarkatmybedside，repeatingtheAthanasianCreedinaterrificvoice。Ipaidmybillnextday，andretiredfromthecountywithallpossibleprecipitation。
　　ThatwasnotacommonplacestorywhichworkeditselfoutatalittleInninSwitzerland，whileIwasstayingthere。Itwasaveryhomelyplace，inavillageofonenarrowzigzagstreet，amongmountains，andyouwentinatthemaindoorthroughthecow—house，andamongthemulesandthedogsandthefowls，beforeascendingagreatbarestaircasetotherooms；whichwereallofunpaintedwood，withoutplasteringorpapering，——likeroughpacking—cases。Outsidetherewasnothingbutthestragglingstreet，alittletoychurchwithacopper—colouredsteeple，apineforest，atorrent，mists，andmountain—sides。AyoungmanbelongingtothisInnhaddisappearedeightweeksbefore（itwaswinter—time），andwassupposedtohavehadsomeundiscoveredloveaffair，andtohavegoneforasoldier。
　　Hehadgotupinthenight，anddroppedintothevillagestreetfromtheloftinwhichhesleptwithanotherman；andhehaddoneitsoquietly，thathiscompanionandfellow—labourerhadheardnomovementwhenhewasawakenedinthemorning，andtheysaid，"Louis，whereisHenri？"Theylookedforhimhighandlow，invain，andgavehimup。Now，outsidethisInn，therestood，astherestoodoutsideeverydwellinginthevillage，astackoffirewood；butthestackbelongingtotheInnwashigherthananyoftherest，becausetheInnwastherichesthouse，andburntthemostfuel。Itbegantobenoticed，whiletheywerelookinghighandlow，thataBantamcock，partofthelivestockoftheInn，puthimselfwonderfullyoutofhiswaytogettothetopofthiswood—stack；andthathewouldstaythereforhoursandhours，crowing，untilheappearedindangerofsplittinghimself。Fiveweekswenton，——sixweeks，——andstillthisterribleBantam，neglectinghisdomesticaffairs，wasalwaysonthetopofthewood—stack，crowingtheveryeyesoutofhishead。
　　BythistimeitwasperceivedthatLouishadbecomeinspiredwithaviolentanimositytowardstheterribleBantam，andonemorninghewasseenbyawoman，whosatnursinghergoitreatalittlewindowinagleamofsun，tocatchuparoughbilletofwood，withagreatoath，hurlitattheterribleBantamcrowingonthewood—stack，andbringhimdowndead。Hereuponthewoman，withasuddenlightinhermind，stoleroundtothebackofthewood—stack，and，beingagoodclimber，asallthosewomenare，climbedup，andsoonwasseenuponthesummit，screaming，lookingdownthehollowwithin，andcrying，"SeizeLouis，themurderer！Ringthechurchbell！Hereisthebody！"Isawthemurdererthatday，andIsawhimasIsatbymyfireattheHolly—TreeInn，andIseehimnow，lyingshackledwithcordsonthestablelitter，amongthemildeyesandthesmokingbreathofthecows，waitingtobetakenawaybythepolice，andstaredatbythefearfulvillage。Aheavyanimal，——thedullestanimalinthestables，——withastupidhead，andalumpishfacedevoidofanytraceofinsensibility，whohadbeen，withintheknowledgeofthemurderedyouth，anembezzlerofcertainsmallmoneysbelongingtohismaster，andwhohadtakenthishopefulmodeofputtingapossibleaccuseroutofhisway。Allofwhichheconfessednextday，likeasulkywretchwhocouldn’tbetroubledanymore，nowthattheyhadgotholdofhim，andmeanttomakeanendofhim。Isawhimonceagain，onthedayofmydeparturefromtheInn。
　　InthatCantontheheadsmanstilldoeshisofficewithasword；andIcameuponthismurderersittingbound，toachair，withhiseyesbandaged，onascaffoldinalittlemarket—place。Inthatinstant，agreatsword（loadedwithquicksilverinthethickpartoftheblade）sweptroundhimlikeagustofwindorfire，andtherewasnosuchcreatureintheworld。Mywonderwas，notthathewassosuddenlydispatched，butthatanyheadwasleftunreaped，withinaradiusoffiftyyardsofthattremendoussickle。
　　ThatwasagoodInn，too，withthekind，cheerfullandladyandthehonestlandlord，whereIlivedintheshadowofMontBlanc，andwhereoneoftheapartmentshasazoologicalpaperingonthewalls，notsoaccuratelyjoinedbutthattheelephantoccasionallyrejoicesinatiger’shindlegsandtail，whilethelionputsonatrunkandtusks，andthebear，moultingasitwere，appearsastoportionsofhimselflikealeopard。ImadeseveralAmericanfriendsatthatInn，whoallcalledMontBlancMountBlank，——exceptonegood—
　　humouredgentleman，ofaverysociablenature，whobecameonsuchintimatetermswithitthathespokeofitfamiliarlyas"Blank；"
　　observing，atbreakfast，"Blanklooksprettytallthismorning；"orconsiderablydoubtinginthecourtyardintheevening，whethertherewarn’tsomego—aheadnatersinourcountry，sir，thatwouldmakeoutthetopofBlankinacoupleofhoursfromfirststart——now！
　　OnceIpassedafortnightatanInnintheNorthofEngland，whereI
　　washauntedbytheghostofatremendouspie。ItwasaYorkshirepie，likeafort，——anabandonedfortwithnothinginit；butthewaiterhadafixedideathatitwasapointofceremonyateverymealtoputthepieonthetable。AftersomedaysItriedtohint，inseveraldelicateways，thatIconsideredthepiedonewith；as，forexample，byemptyingfag—endsofglassesofwineintoit；
　　puttingcheese—platesandspoonsintoit，asintoabasket；puttingwine—bottlesintoit，asintoacooler；butalwaysinvain，thepiebeinginvariablycleanedoutagainandbroughtupasbefore。Atlast，beginningtobedoubtfulwhetherIwasnotthevictimofaspectralillusion，andwhethermyhealthandspiritsmightnotsinkunderthehorrorsofanimaginarypie，Icutatriangleoutofit，fullyaslargeasthemusicalinstrumentofthatnameinapowerfulorchestra。Humanprovisioncouldnothaveforeseentheresult——butthewaitermendedthepie。Withsomeeffectualspeciesofcement，headroitlyfittedthetriangleinagain，andIpaidmyreckoningandfled。
　　TheHolly—Treewasgettingratherdismal。Imadeanoverlandexpeditionbeyondthescreen，andpenetratedasfarasthefourthwindow。HereIwasdrivenbackbystressofweather。Arrivedatmywinter—quartersoncemore，Imadeupthefire，andtookanotherInn。
　　ItwasintheremotestpartofCornwall。AgreatannualMiners’
　　FeastwasbeingholdenattheInn，whenIandmytravellingcompanionspresentedourselvesatnightamongthewildcrowdthatweredancingbeforeitbytorchlight。Wehadhadabreak—downinthedark，onastonymorasssomemilesaway；andIhadthehonourofleadingoneoftheunharnessedpost—horses。Ifanyladyorgentleman，onperusalofthepresentlines，willtakeanyverytallpost—horsewithhistraceshangingabouthislegs，andwillconducthimbythebearing—reinintotheheartofacountrydanceofahundredandfiftycouples，thatladyorgentlemanwillthen，andonlythen，formanadequateideaoftheextenttowhichthatpost—
　　horsewilltreadonhisconductor’stoes。Overandabovewhich，thepost—horse，findingthreehundredpeoplewhirlingabouthim，willprobablyrear，andalsolashoutwithhishindlegs，inamannerincompatiblewithdignityorself—respectonhisconductor’spart。
　　Withsuchlittledrawbacksonmyusuallyimpressiveaspect，I
　　appearedatthisCornishInn，totheunutterablewonderoftheCornishMiners。Itwasfull，andtwentytimesfull，andnobodycouldbereceivedbutthepost—horse，——thoughtogetridofthatnobleanimalwassomething。Whilemyfellow—travellersandIwerediscussinghowtopassthenightandsomuchofthenextdayasmustintervenebeforethejovialblacksmithandthejovialwheelwrightwouldbeinaconditiontogooutonthemorassandmendthecoach，anhonestmansteppedforthfromthecrowdandproposedhisunletflooroftworooms，withsupperofeggsandbacon，aleandpunch。
　　Wejoyfullyaccompaniedhimhometothestrangestofcleanhouses，wherewewerewellentertainedtothesatisfactionofallparties。
　　Butthenovelfeatureoftheentertainmentwas，thatourhostwasachair—maker，andthatthechairsassignedtousweremereframes，altogetherwithoutbottomsofanysort；sothatwepassedtheeveningonperches。Norwasthistheabsurdestconsequence；forwhenweunbentatsupper，andanyoneofusgavewaytolaughter，heforgotthepeculiarityofhisposition，andinstantlydisappeared。
　　Imyself，doubledupintoanattitudefromwhichself—extricationwasimpossible，wastakenoutofmyframe，likeaclowninacomicpantomimewhohastumbledintoatub，fivetimesbythetaper’slightduringtheeggsandbacon。
　　TheHolly—Treewasfastrevivingwithinmeasenseofloneliness。I
　　begantofeelconsciousthatmysubjectwouldnevercarryonuntilI
　　wasdugout。Imightbeaweekhere，——weeks！
　　Therewasastorywithasingularideainit，connectedwithanInnIoncepassedanightatinapicturesqueoldtownontheWelshborder。Inalargedouble—beddedroomofthisInntherehadbeenasuicidecommittedbypoison，inonebed，whileatiredtravellersleptunconsciousintheother。Afterthattime，thesuicidebedwasneverused，buttheotherconstantlywas；thedisusedbedsteadremainingintheroomempty，thoughastoallotherrespectsinitsoldstate。Thestoryran，thatwhosoeversleptinthisroom，thoughneversoentireastranger，fromneversofaroff，wasinvariablyobservedtocomedowninthemorningwithanimpressionthathesmeltLaudanum，andthathismindalwaysturneduponthesubjectofsuicide；towhich，whateverkindofmanhemightbe，hewascertaintomakesomereferenceifheconversedwithanyone。Thiswentonforyears，untilitatlengthinducedthelandlordtotakethedisusedbedsteaddown，andbodilyburnit，——bed，hangings，andall。
　　Thestrangeinfluence（thiswasthestory）nowchangedtoafainterone，butneverchangedafterwards。Theoccupantofthatroom，withoccasionalbutveryrareexceptions，wouldcomedowninthemorning，tryingtorecallaforgottendreamhehadhadinthenight。Thelandlord，onhismentioninghisperplexity，wouldsuggestvariouscommonplacesubjects，notoneofwhich，asheverywellknew，wasthetruesubject。Butthemomentthelandlordsuggested"Poison，"
　　thetravellerstarted，andcried，"Yes！"Heneverfailedtoacceptthatsuggestion，andheneverrecalledanymoreofthedream。
　　ThisreminiscencebroughttheWelshInnsingeneralbeforeme；withthewomenintheirroundhats，andtheharperswiththeirwhitebeards（venerable，buthumbugs，Iamafraid），playingoutsidethedoorwhileItookmydinner。ThetransitionwasnaturaltotheHighlandInns，withtheoatmealbannocks，thehoney，thevenisonsteaks，thetroutfromtheloch，thewhisky，andperhaps（havingthematerialssotemptinglyathand）theAtholbrose。OncewasIcomingsouthfromtheScottishHighlandsinhothaste，hopingtochangequicklyatthestationatthebottomofacertainwildhistoricalglen，whentheseeyesdidwithmortificationseethelandlordcomeoutwithatelescopeandsweepthewholeprospectforthehorses；
　　whichhorseswereawaypickinguptheirownliving，anddidnotheaveinsightunderfourhours。Havingthoughtoftheloch—trout，IwastakenbyquickassociationtotheAnglers’InnsofEngland（I
　　haveassistedatinnumerablefeatsofanglingbylyinginthebottomoftheboat，wholesummerdays，doingnothingwiththegreatestperseverance；whichIhavegenerallyfoundtobeaseffectualtowardsthetakingoffishasthefinesttackleandtheutmostscience），andtothepleasantwhite，clean，flower—pot—decoratedbedroomsofthoseinns，overlookingtheriver，andtheferry，andthegreenait，andthechurch—spire，andthecountrybridge；andtothepearlessEmmawiththebrighteyesandtheprettysmile，whowaited，blessher！withanaturalgracethatwouldhaveconvertedBlue—Beard。CastingmyeyesuponmyHolly—Treefire，InextdiscernedamongtheglowingcoalsthepicturesofascoreormoreofthosewonderfulEnglishposting—innswhichweareallsosorrytohavelost，whichweresolargeandsocomfortable，andwhichweresuchmonumentsofBritishsubmissiontorapacityandextortion。Hewhowouldseethesehousespiningaway，lethimwalkfromBasingstoke，orevenWindsor，toLondon，bywayofHounslow，andmoraliseontheirperishingremains；thestablescrumblingtodust；
　　unsettledlabourersandwanderersbivouackingintheouthouses；
　　grassgrowingintheyards；therooms，whereerstsomanyhundredbedsofdownweremadeup，letofftoIrishlodgersateighteenpenceaweek；alittleill—lookingbeer—shopshrinkinginthetapofformerdays，burningcoach—housegatesforfirewood，havingoneofitstwowindowsbungedup，asifithadreceivedpunishmentinafightwiththeRailroad；alow，bandy—legged，brick—makingbulldogstandinginthedoorway。WhatcouldInextseeinmyfiresonaturallyasthenewrailway—houseofthesetimesnearthedismalcountrystation；withnothingparticularondraughtbutcoldairanddamp，nothingworthmentioninginthelarderbutnewmortar，andnobusinessdoingbeyondaconceitedaffectationofluggageinthehall？ThenIcametotheInnsofParis，withtheprettyapartmentoffourpiecesuponehundredandseventy—fivewaxedstairs，theprivilegeofringingthebellalldaylongwithoutinfluencinganybody’smindorbodybutyourown，andthenot—too—much—for—