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Bierce, Ambrose, 1842-1914?

"Black Beetles in Amber"


Now what's the hour?
_(Distant clock strikes thirteen_.)
Enough--hale forth the stiff!
_(Grimghast by means of a boat-hook stands the coffin on end
in the excavation; the lid crumbles, exposing the remains of a
man.)_
Ha! Master Mouldybones, how fare you, sir?
THE BODY:
Poorly, I thank your ladyship; I miss
Some certain fingers and an ear or two.
There's something, too, gone wrong with my inside,
And my periphery's not what it was.
How can we serve each other, you and I?
NELLIBRAC:
O what a personable man!
_(Blushes bashfully, drops her eyes and twists the corner of
her apron_.)
SARALTHIA:
Yes, dear,
A very proper and alluring male,
And quite superior to Lubin Rroyd,
Who has, however, this distinct advantage--
He is alive.
GRIMGHAST:
Missus, these yer remains
Was the boss singer back in '72,
And used to allers git invites to go
Down to Swellmont and sing at every feed.
In t'other Villiam's time, that was, afore
The gent that you've hooked onto bought the place.
THE BODY _(singing):_
Down among the sainted dead
Many years I lay;
Beetles occupied my head,
Moles explored my clay.
There we feasted day and night--
I and bug and beast;
They provided appetite
And I supplied the feast.


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