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

Page 650 of 1087
Table of Contents

The Gold-Bug

“Never mind,” said he at length, “this will answer;” and he drew from his waistcoat pocket a scrap of what I took to be very dirty foolscap, and made upon it a rough drawing with the pen. While he did this, I retained my seat by the fire, for I was still chilly. When the design was complete, he handed it to me without rising. As I received it, a loud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door. Jupiter opened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in, leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shown him much attention during previous visits. When his gambols were over, I looked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a little puzzled at what my friend had depicted.

“Well!” I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, “this is a strange scarabaeus, I must confess; new to me; never saw anything like it before⁠—unless it was a skull, or a death’s-head⁠—which it more nearly resembles than anything else that has come under my observation.”

“A death’s-head!” echoed Legrand. “Oh⁠—yes⁠—well, it has something

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