Do you, or did you…ever have a friend like this?




Well, it wasn’t my turn to go out that night,
But the call came, clarion clear.
I couldn’t really put up a fight…
Thank God the place was so near.

He always sat in the very same spot,
And there in the darkened gloom
I saw him slumped, in his usual chair…
In that smoky, gin filled room.

The bar was crowded with the usual folks,
Who drank many pints and told raucous jokes.
He shrank out of sight in his rickety chair,
And I knew that I was not welcome there.

His silver hair and weathered face
Was not a countenance I’d embrace.
But years ago, ah that was then…
And he was a handsome man among men.

I knew him then, but he’d not recall,
The years have passed since I watched him fall.
I bade my time, since he was not met,
With memories he’d best forget.

I heaved a sigh, and sauntered there,
Removed a black, adjoining chair.
And smiled (a task it seemed to me)
I spoke…Hello again, my good McFee!

He growled! Oh, yes, I knew he would…
And stared me down, as only he could.
Leave, he snarled, get up and go!
But I would not, as well you should know.

Oh, Angus, dear Angus, my Angus McFee!
What a mean, mean old codger, you’re turned out to be!
Why, how I remember, and how I recall…
McFee, you dear, once did capture them all!

Your spirit was lively, your humor sublime!
The lassies enchanted by you, all the time!
Your work was professional, you slouched not a bit!
Your speech it was tempered with humor and wit!

You picked up that phone,
And, YOU made the call…I’m here,
You’re not alone at all!
The band is playing, come, come…let’s dance!

His face got red,
His ears were burning…
And every head in the place was turning.
I can’t…played strip poker
and lost my pants!
Have two ending and two beginnings…but I’m choosy. Still in the ‘tweaking stage".




the mysteries of Udolpho!! helpme please!!?




hi, i’m italian…who can help to make me a summary about this chapter of "the mysteries of Udolpho" by Ann Radcliffe….not very long, thanks! kisses:

chapter 26: ‘Up this stair-case the Signora lies,’ said Barnardine.

‘Lies!’ repeated Emily faintly, as she began to ascend.

‘She lies in the upper chamber,’ said Barnardine.

As they passed up, the wind, which poured through the narrow cavities in the wall, made the torch flare, and it threw a stronger gleam upon the grim and sallow countenance of Barnardine, and discovered more fully the desolation of the place—the rough stone walls, the spiral stairs, black with age, and a suit of antient armour, with an iron visor, that hung upon the walls, and appeared a trophy of some former victory.

Having reached a landing-place, ‘You may wait here, lady,’ said he, applying a key to the door of a chamber, ‘while I go up, and tell the Signora you are coming.’

‘That ceremony is unnecessary,’ replied Emily, ‘my aunt will rejoice to see me.’

‘I am not so sure of that,’ said Barnardine, pointing to the room he had opened: ‘Come in here, lady, while I step up.’

Emily, surprised and somewhat shocked, did not dare to oppose him further, but, as he was turning away with the torch, desired he would not leave her in darkness. He looked around, and, observing a tripod lamp, that stood on the stairs, lighted and gave it to Emily, who stepped forward into a large old chamber, and he closed the door. As she listened anxiously to his departing steps, she thought he descended, instead of ascending, the stairs; but the gusts of wind, that whistled round the portal, would not allow her to hear distinctly any other sound. Still, however, she listened, and, perceiving no step in the room above, where he had affirmed Madame Montoni to be, her anxiety increased, though she considered, that the thickness of the floor in this strong building might prevent any sound reaching her from the upper chamber. The next moment, in a pause of the wind, she distinguished Barnardine’s step descending to the court, and then thought she heard his voice; but, the rising gust again overcoming other sounds, Emily, to be certain on this point, moved softly to the door, which, on attempting to open it, she discovered was fastened. All the horrid apprehensions, that had lately assailed her, returned at this instant with redoubled force, and no longer appeared like the exaggerations of a timid spirit, but seemed to have been sent to warn her of her fate. She now did not doubt, that Madame Montoni had been murdered, perhaps in this very chamber; or that she herself was brought hither for the same purpose. The countenance, the manners and the recollected words of Barnardine, when he had spoken of her aunt, confirmed her worst fears. For some moments, she was incapable of considering of any means, by which she might attempt an escape. Still she listened, but heard footsteps neither on the stairs, or in the room above; she thought, however, that she again distinguished Barnardine’s voice below, and went to a grated window, that opened upon the court, to enquire further. Here, she plainly heard his hoarse accents, mingling with the blast, that swept by, but they were lost again so quickly, that their meaning could not be interpreted; and then the light of a torch, which seemed to issue from the portal below, flashed across the court, and the long shadow of a man, who was under the arch-way, appeared upon the pavement. Emily, from the hugeness of this sudden portrait, concluded it to be that of Barnardine; but other deep tones, which passed in the wind, soon convinced her he was not alone, and that his companion was not a person very liable to pity.

When her spirits had overcome the first shock of her situation, she held up the lamp to examine, if the chamber afforded a possibility of an escape. It was a spacious room, whose walls, wainscoted with rough oak, shewed no casement but the grated one, which Emily had left, and no other door than that, by which she had entered. The feeble rays of the lamp, however, did not allow her to see at once its full extent; she perceived no furniture, except, indeed, an iron chair, fastened in the centre of the chamber, immediately over which, depending on a chain from the ceiling, hung an iron ring. Having gazed upon these, for some time, with wonder and horror, she next observed iron bars below, made for the purpose of confining the feet, and on the arms of the chair were rings of the same metal. As she continued to survey them, she concluded, that they were instruments of torture, and it struck her, that some poor wretch had once been fastened in this chair, and had there been starved to death. She was chilled by the thought; but, what was her agony, when, in the next moment, it occurred to her, that her aunt might have been one of these victims, and that she herself might be the next! An acute pain seized her head, she was scarcely able to h




  
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