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nydus/Short FictionPublic

A collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s short fiction, ordered by date of publication.

Page 392 of 1087
Table of Contents

Why the Little Frenchman Wears His Hand in a Sling

of his riverence to be afther the minding of a thrifle of a mistake. Ye may jist say, though (for it’s God’s thruth), that afore I left hould of the flipper of the spalpeen (which was not till afther her leddyship’s futman had kicked us both down the stairs), I giv’d it such a nate little broth of a squaze as made it all up into raspberry jam.

“Wouly-wou,” says he, “pully-wou,” says he⁠—“Cot tam!”

And that’s jist the thruth of the rason why he wears his lift hand in a sling.

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