Herman Melville

“ By a curious coincidence, it strengthened with the strength of the sunlight.
‘But is it not miraculous,’ said Anna, ‘how a bug should come out of a table?’
‘Not at all, my daughter. It is a very common thing for bugs to come out of wood. You yourself must have seen them coming out of the ends of the billets on the hearth.’
‘Ah, but that wood is almost fresh from the woodland. But the table is at least a hundred years old.’
‘What of that?’ said I, gaily. ‘Have not live toads been found in the hearts of dead rocks, as old as creation?’
‘Say what you will, papa, I feel it is spirits,’ said Julia. ”

“ I was pleased by the discovery that the table was not of the ordinary mahogany, but of apple-tree wood, which age had darkened nearly to walnut. It struck me as being quite an appropriate piece of furniture for our cedar-parlour—so called, from its being, after the old fashion, wainscoted with that wood. The table’s round slab, or orb, was so contrived as to be readily changed from a horizontal to a perpendicular position, so that, when not in use, it could be placed snugly in a corner. For myself, wife and two daughters, I thought it would make a nice little breakfast and tea-table. ”

“ Spirits!—Holy Vargin!’
‘Now, husband,’ said my wife, ‘I am convinced that, whatever it is that causes this ticking, neither the ticking nor the table can hurt us; for we are all good Christians, I hope. I am determined to find out the cause of it, too, which time and patience will bring to light. I shall breakfast on no other table but this, so long as we live in this house. So, sit down, now that all things are ready again, and let us quietly breakfast. My dears,’ turning to Julia and Anna, ‘go to your room, and return composed. ”

“ I don’t believe in spirits, especially at breakfast-time. Biddy! Biddy! Here, carry these things back to the kitchen,’ handing the urn. Then, sweeping off the cloth, the little table lay bare to the eye.
‘It’s the table, the table!’ cried Julia.
‘Nonsense,’ said my wife. ‘Who ever heard of a ticking table? It’s on the floor. Biddy! Julia! Anna! move everything out of the room—table and all. Where are the tack-hammers?’
‘Heavens, mamma—you are not going to take up the carpet?’ screamed Julia.
‘Here’s the hammers, marm,’ said Biddy, advancing tremblingly. ”

“ To evince my hardihood the more signally, when tea was dismissed, and the three rubbers of whist had been played, and no ticking had been heard—which the more encouraged me—I took my pipe and, saying that bedtime had arrived for the rest, drew my chair towards the fire, and, removing my slippers, placed my feet on the fender, looking as calm and composed as old Democritus in the tombs of Abdera, when one midnight the mischievous little boys of the town tried to frighten that sturdy philosopher with spurious ghosts. ”

“ Consequently, my wife must still have ascribed my singular conduct to a mind disordered, not by ghosts, but by punch. For my own part as I lay in bed watching the sun in the panes, I began to think that much midnight reading of Cotton Mather was not good for man; that it had a morbid influence upon the nerves, and gave rise to hallucinations. I resolved to put Cotton Mather permanently aside. That done, I had no fear of any return of the ticking. Indeed, I began to think that what seemed the ticking in the room, was nothing but a sort of buzzing in my ear. ”

“ In my eagerness to get well into the chamber, I stumbled against a chair.
‘Do try and make less noise, my dear,’ said my wife from the bed. ‘You have been taking too much of that punch, I fear. That sad habit grows on you. Ah, that I should ever see you thus staggering at night into your chamber.’
‘Wife, wife,’ hoarsely whispered I, ‘there is—is something tick—ticking in the cedar-parlour.’
‘Poor old man—quite out of his mind—I knew it would be so. Come to bed ”

“ In these cobwebs swung, as in aerial catacombs, myriads of all tribes of mummied insects.
Climbing the stairs to the platform, and pausing there to recover my breath, a curious scene was presented. The sun was about halfway up. Piercing the little skylight, it slopingly bored a rainbowed tunnel clear across the darkness of the garret. Here, millions of butterfly moles were swarming. Against the skylight itself, with a cymbal-like buzzing, thousands of insects clustered in a golden mob.
Wishing to shed a clearer light through the place, I sought to withdraw the scuttle-slide. ”

“ Cotton Mather testified whereof he had seen. But, is it possible, I asked myself. Then I remembered that Dr Johnson, the matter-of-fact compiler of a dictionary, had been a believer in ghosts, besides many other sound, worthy men. Yielding to the fascination, I read deeper and deeper into the night. At last, I found myself starting at the least chance sound, and yet wishing that it were not so very still.
A tumbler of warm punch stood by my side, with which beverage, in a moderate way, I was accustomed to treat myself every Saturday night ”

“ During the evening, the ticking was again heard. About ten o’clock I clapped a tumbler over the spot, as near as I could judge of it by my ear. Then we all retired, and locking the door of the cedar-parlour, I put the key in my pocket.
In the morning, nothing was to be seen, but the ticking was heard. The trepidation of my daughters returned. They wanted to call in the neighbours. But to this my wife was vigorously opposed. We should be the laughing-stock of the whole town. So it was agreed that nothing should be disclosed. Biddy received strict charges ”

“ You will catch cold here.’ The philosophy of which words lies here: that they imply the foregone conclusion, that any possible investigation of any possible spiritual phenomena was absurd; that upon the first face of such things, the mind of a sane man instinctively affirmed them a humbug, unworthy the least attention; more especially if such phenomena appear in tombs, since tombs are peculiarly the place of silence, lifelessness and solitude; for which cause, by the way, the old man, as upon the occasion in question, made the tombs of Abdera his place of study. ”

“ It was advanced to an honourable position in the cedar-parlour.
But, as for my daughter Julia, she never got over her strange emotions upon first accidentally encountering the table. Unfortunately, it was just as I was in the act of bringing it down from the garret. Holding it by the slab, I was carrying it before me, one cob-webbed hoof thrust out, which weird object, at a turn of the stairs, suddenly touched my girl as she was ascending ”

“ I told Biddy to wire the bottles today.’
I shall here transcribe from memoranda kept during part of the night:
One o’clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking continues. Wife getting sleepy.
Two o’clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking intermittent. Wife fast asleep.
Three o’clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking pretty steady. Julia and Anna getting sleepy.
Four o’clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking regular, but not spirited. Wife, Julia and Anna, all fast asleep in their chairs.
Five o’clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking faint. Myself feeling drowsy. The rest still asleep. ”