Its two
bead-like eyes seemed to gleam at me with positively human intelligence.
The pipe fascinated me to such an extent that I actually resolved
to--smoke it!
I filled it with Perique. Ordinarily I use Birdseye, but on those very
rare occasions on which I use a specimen I smoke Perique. I lit up with
quite a small sensation of excitement. As I did so I kept my eyes perforce
fixed upon the beast. The beast pointed its upraised tentacle directly at
me. As I inhaled the pungent tobacco that tentacle impressed me with a
feeling of actual uncanniness. It was broad daylight, and I was smoking in
front of the window, yet to such an extent was I affected that it seemed
to me that the tentacle was not only vibrating, which, owing to the
peculiarity of its position, was quite within the range of probability,
but actually moving, elongating--stretching forward, that is, farther
toward me, and toward the tip of my nose. So impressed was I by this idea
that I took the pipe out of my mouth and minutely examined the beast.
Really, the delusion was excusable. So cunningly had the artist wrought
that he succeeded in producing a creature which, such was its uncanniness,
I could only hope had no original in nature.
Replacing the pipe between my lips I took several whiffs. Never had
smoking had such an effect on me before.
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