Monday, February 28, 2011

funny short story - read stories online

Hi with new short funny story named easy to swallow ?
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Easy to Swallow?


Helen..... and her husband, Tony, had just finished tucking their young ones into bed one evening when they heard crying coming from the children's room. Rushing in, they found Tommy crying hysterically.
He had accidentally swallowed a 5p piece and was sure he was going to die. No amount of talking could change his mind. Trying to calm him, Chris palmed a 5p coin that he happened to have in his pocket and pretended to remove it from Tommy's ear.  Tommy, naturally, was delighted. In a flash, he snatched it from his father's hand, swallowed it and demanded cheerfully - 'Do it again, Dad!'


Police Officer - short funny stories - free funny stories

Hi friends this new funny short story .... read more funny short stories in our blog
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Police Officer
Police Officer Bryant found a perfect hiding place for watching for speeding motorists.
One day, the officer was amazed when everyone was under the speed limit, so Bryant investigated and found the problem.  10 year old Dennis was standing on the side of the road with a huge hand painted sign which said "Radar Trap Ahead." A little more investigative work led the officer to the boy's accomplice, another boy about 100 yards beyond the radar trap with a sign reading "Tips" and a bucket at his feet, full of change.


funny high school story - free short stories

This new short funny story in high school , read more stories ( high school stories , funny stories , love stories , free short stories , kids short stories .... etc )

When I was in high school, worked in a pizza delivery place,, it was every month, not weekly...........
 I remember that our class T-shirt my senior year was supposed to be "Absolut seniors" (Yea, I know, hush). Well that apparently didn't go over too well with the PTA, ya know, having a Vodka bottle on a high school shirt and all. So we changed the shirt to plain black and white with all text talking about how we were "being kept down by the man" and that school authorities were "an oppressive force that are unable to be reckoned with"

I still laugh my ass off to this day about some of the things we did as a class in high school.


Monday, February 21, 2011

taking a chance - short stories about love

 This new love short story ( read with us more short love stories , funny short love stories , sad love stories , online short love stories... etc)
taking a chance - short love story


I started using my space of about two years, in fact, did not agree to the all demands of friendship  ... But there is a closer friend to me
One evening when I was logged on, a chat request came through from a very cute looking guy and we started talking. At first, I thought nothing of it as I was involved with another guy and I was hoping to meet him.
Anyway, I had a great time with this guy who was from Africa and we chatted most evenings on msn. I knew he felt something more than friends and I did think maybe I could feel something for him too as we were becoming very close. We had a few lovely conversations on the phone too, but it was too expensive for me and him. I did wish we could take our relationship to another level but the distance and lack of money to travel made it all seem hopeless.
During that period, I had to work long hours and I didnt get to go online as much and we lost touch even though I still very much liked him and cared deeply about him. One evening about 6 months later he informed me that we wouldnt be able to chat anymore because he had found a girl and they had been chatting for some months. I was very upset but I wished him well. I never forgot him and would always ask how it was going with her if we were both online.
Then facebook came along and I spent more time on that than myspace. He requested me on there and about a year later, we start communicating again. The girl had found another boyfriend, but by then, I also had a boyfriend!
I don't remember exactly when we got so close again, but it was when my boyfriend proposed to me that I suddenly realised that I couldnt marry anyone due to my feelings for M. I had to call him and tell him. He said how jealous he had been when he saw my relationship status, he said he still loved me and that he wanted us to meet to see if there would ever be any way that we could be together.
This was a month ago. I am torn between him and my boyfriend of a year. M has a great job there and is ready to settle down and start a family. I am not happy where I am or with my boyfriend. I love M even though we have never met. Our phone bills are huge. I have to fight everyday not to just pick up the phone and call him. An hour on the phone is so expensive and anything less, its impossible to hang up. He calls me when he cant stand it any longer. We sms many times a day. I'm willing to take a chance on him even though we have never met. My friends think I'm crazy.


Silent Love - short love story - free short stories

Hi friends in new short story about love we meet in our blog 
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 Silent Love
She was not thinking of love, not something important in her life, but love that comes at a time. May come silently .
She was so stout……..with stout persons, sometimes she became so sensitive, as all the characters were immersed in her……she was decent and never brought sadness in anyone’s face, but happiness. She never ever endeavored for those which were of others. Always was appearing with a sweet smile on her face, whether how much dismal she was……she sacrificed her whole likenesses for others………………and probably for this even she lost her love. Whether her destiny brought her to her valentine but also adversity took her away from her love and from this world.
The story begins from here;
“Oh mum we’re getting late, hurry up” she shouted
“Yeah, just coming don’t impassionate” Mum said…..
Actually, she was going in another city for attending the wedding of her cousin.
At last they set out for attending wedding.
By the next dawn she arrived in that city, where some one was waiting for her……..
After arriving there, all persons turned busy in the chore and some in the practice for dace.
All cousins decided to for buying CDs of their favourite songs. In evening they set out for shopping and outing. After shopping they turned so hungry and tired. They went in a restaurant for dinner.
“Oh no, I’ve forgotten my CDs in that restaurant and I’ve also written my address and contact no: in that CDs” She said.
“Shit! If anyone would’ve picked your CDs, so….” Her 1 cousin said with exasperation.
“So, lets go for picking them” her cousins said.
When they entered in restaurant, so she saw………….and stared and he also.
They both lost in their eyes. He came toward her, simultaneously when she saw her CDs in his hand, she snatched and ran away…..
She did not want to arouse her feelings of love, but his love was wishing her.
Perhaps they both were avoiding from, and that’s why couldn’t express their feelings about each other. When she returned, she intended to forget him but all in vain. She again thought and thought, his condition was also such like her. Whether they did not want to show their love to each other, but they couldn’t stop their selves from missing and loving each other.
Next day she again went at the same restaurant and had forgotten some thing their,
But when she went again for picking she found that same guy, as he was waiting for her.
This case remained continue for four days. The things which she used to forget there in restaurant for seeing only a blink of him, she remained them unopened and marked them safe in her closet. On the fifth day, when she was setting out for the same restaurant, there a misfortunate came between both of them, which brought her far from his world.
During crossing the road a red big container hitted she and she died in the victim of that accident. On one side she was eagering to say only one word and also hearing from him that I LOVE YOU. On other hand he was awaiting for her. For three days she continuously used to come in that restaurant but she couldn’t. Next day, she reminded her address which was written in her CD and set out for her house. After arriving there when he got a wind about her so he offed her wits. She went to her room and when he opened her closet so he found her all things unopened which she used to forget there in restaurant. Actually he had kept his lo in inside those things, but she couldn’t read them. He cried and cried and burst into tears. Their silent love remained silent.



Tuesday, February 15, 2011

funny short story about a blonde - short stories online


This is funny short story  about a blonde - read more short funny stories with 7 short - stories blog .
A Blonde visited Washington for the first time, she wanted to visit the Capitol Building, but she did not find the building,she asked the police officer on the right track

"Excuse me, officer, how do I get to the Capitol building?"

The officer replied, "Wait here at this bus stop for the number 54 bus. It'll take you right there." She thanked the officer and he drives off.

Three hours later the police officer returned to the same area and, sure enough, the blonde is still waiting at the same bus stop. The officer got out of his car and said, "Excuse me, but to get to the Capitol building, I said to wait here for the number 54 bus. That was three hours ago. Why are you still waiting?"

The blonde replied, "Don't worry, officer, it won't be long now. The 45th bus just went by
!"


Old lady short funny story - free short stories

Funny short story about an old woman his husband died and she want to put the announcement in the Gazette for his funeral - read more funny stories with us and also short stories about ( high school - short funny love stories and short child funny stories). 


A local newspaper funeral notice telephone operator received a phone call. A woman on the other end asked, "How much do funeral notices cost? 
$5.00 per word, Ma'am," came the response.

"Good, do you have a paper and pencil handy?
"Yes, Ma'am."

OK, write this: 'Fred dead.'

I'm sorry, Ma'am; I forgot to tell you there's a five-word minimum."

"Hmmph," came the reply, "You certainly did forget to tell me that." A moment of silence. "Got your pencil and paper?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"OK, print this: 'Fred dead, Cadillac for sale.' "


sad love story - The Love Letter Part 1- free online short stories

Again we meet with our blog readers to give them a new story, of love stories entitled the love Letter, let you read the story, be with us always and short stories about love, short stories with tragic endings to Eriks ... ETC
part 1 - the love letter

Iwas always a little in awe of Great-aunt Stephina Roos. Indeed, as children we were all frankly terrified of her. The fact that she did not live with the family, preferring her tiny cottage and solitude to the comfortable but rather noisy household where we were brought up-added to the respectful fear in which she was held. We used to take it in turn to carry small delicacies which my mother had made down from the big house to the little cottage where Aunt Stephia and an old colored maid spent their days. Old Tnate Sanna would open the door to the rather frightened little messenger and would usher him-or her - into the dark voor-kamer, where the shutters were always closed to keep out the heat and the flies. There we would wait, in trembling but not altogether unpleasant. She was a tiny little woman to inspire so much veneration. She was always dressed in black, and her dark clothes melted into the shadows of the voor-kamer and made her look smaller than ever. But you felt. The moment she entered. That something vital and strong and somehow indestructible had come in with her, although she moved slowly, and her voice was sweet and soft. She never embraced us. She would greet us and take out hot little hands in her own beautiful cool one, with blue veins standing out on the back of it, as though the white skin were almost too delicate to contain them. Tante Sanna would bring in dishes of sweet, sweet, sticky candy, or a great bowl of grapes or peaches, and Great-aunt Stephina would converse gravely about happenings on the farm ,and, more rarely, of the outer world. When we had finished our sweetmeats or fruit she would accompany us to the stoep, bidding us thank our mother for her gift and sending quaint, old-fashioned messages to her and the Father. Then she would turn and enter the house, closing the door behind, so that it became once more a place of mystery. As I grew older I found, rather to my surprise, that I had become genuinely fond of my aloof old great-aunt. But to this day I do not know what strange impulse made me take George to see her and to tell her, before I had confided in another living soul, of our engagement. To my astonishment, she was delighted. "An Englishman,"she exclaimed."But that is splendid, splendid. And you,"she turned to George,"you are making your home in this country? You do not intend to return to England just yet?" She seemed relieved when she heard that George had bought a farm near our own farm and intended to settle in South Africa. She became quite animated, and chattered away to him. After that I would often slip away to the little cottage by the mealie lands. Once she was somewhat disappointed on hearing that we had decided to wait for two years before getting married, but when she learned that my father and mother were both pleased with the match she seemed reassured. Still, she often appeared anxious about my love affair, and would ask questions that seemed to me strange, almost as though she feared that something would happen to destroy my romance. But I was quite unprepared for her outburst when I mentioned that George thought of paying a lightning visit to England before we were married."He must not do it,"she cried."Ina, you must not let him go. Promise me you will prevent him."she was trembling all over. I did what I could to console her, but she looked so tired and pale that I persuaded her to go to her room and rest, promising to return the next day. When I arrived I found her sitting on the stoep. She looked lonely and pathetic, and for the first time I wondered why no man had ever taken her and looked after her and loved her. Mother had told me that Great-aunt Stephina had been lovely as a young girl, and although no trace of that beauty remained, except perhaps in her brown eyes, yet she looked so small and appealing that any man, one felt, would have wanted to protect her. She paused, as though she did not quite know how to begin. Then she seemed to give herself, mentally, a little shake. "You must have wondered ", she said, "why I was so upset at the thought of young George's going to England without you. I am an old woman, and perhaps I have the silly fancies of the old, but I should like to tell you my own love story, and then you can decide whether it is wise for your man to leave you before you are married." "I was quite a young girl when I first met Richard Weston. He was an Englishman who boarded with the Van Rensburgs on the next farm, four or five miles from us. Richard was not strong. He had a weak chest, and the doctors had sent him to South Africa so that the dry air could cure him. He taught the Van Rensburg children, who were younger than I was, though we often played together, but he did this for pleasure and not because he needed money.
the love letter part 2 

We loved one another from the first moment we met, though we did not speak of our love until the evening of my eighteenth birthday. All our friends and relatives had come to my party, and in the evening we danced on the big old carpet which we had laid down in the barn. Richard had come with the Van Rensburgs, and we danced together as often as we dared, which was not very often, for my father hated the Uitlanders. Indeed, for a time he had quarreled with Mynheer Van Rensburg for allowing Richard to board with him, but afterwards he got used to the idea, and was always polite to the Englishman, though he never liked him. "That was the happiest birthday of my life, for while we were resting between dances Richard took me outside into the cool, moonlit night, and there, under the stars ,he told me he loved me and asked me to marry him. Of course I promised I would, for I was too happy to think of what my parents would say, or indeed of anything except Richard was not at our meeting place as he had arranged. I was disappointed but not alarmed, for so many things could happen to either of us to prevent out keeping our tryst. I thought that next time we visited the Van Ransburgs, I should hear what had kept him and we could plan further meetings… "So when my father asked if I would drive with him to Driefontein I was delighted. But when we reached the homestead and were sitting on the stoep drinking our coffee, we heard that Richard had left quite suddenly and had gone back to England. His father had died, and now he was the heir and must go back to look after his estates. "I do not remember very much more about that day, except that the sun seemed to have stopped shining and the country no longer looked beautiful and full of promise, but bleak and desolate as it sometimes does in winter or in times of drought. Late that afternoon, Jantje, the little Hottentot herd boy, came up to me and handed me a letter , which he said the English baas had left for me. It was the only love letter I ever received, but it turned all my bitterness and grief into a peacefulness which was the nearest I could get, then, to happiness. I knew Richard still loved me, and somehow, as long as I had his letter, I felt that we could never be really parted, even if he were in England and I had to remain on the farm. I have it yet, and though I am an old, tired woman, it still gives me hope and courage." "I must have been a wonderful letter, Aunt Stephia,"I said The old lady came back from her dreams of that far-off romance."Perhaps," she said, hesitating a little, "perhaps, my dear, you would care to read it ?" "I should love to , Aunt Stephia,"I said gently She rose at once and tripped into the house as eagerly as a young girl. When she came back she handed me a letter, faded and yellow with age, the edges of the envelope worn and frayed as though it had been much handled. But when I came to open it I found that the seal was unbroken. "Open it ,open it,"said Great-aunt Stephia, and her voice was shaking I broke the seal and read. It was not a love letter in the true sense of the word, but pages of the minutest directions of how"my sweetest Phina"was to elude her father's vigilance, creep down to the drift at night and there meet Jantje with a horse which would take her to Smitsdorp. There she was to go to "my true friend, Henry Wilson",who would give her money and make arrangements for her to follow her lover to Cape Town and from there to England ," where, my love, we can he be married at once. But if, my dearest, you are not sure that you can face lift with me in a land strange to you, then do not take this important step, for I love you too much to wish you the smallest unhappiness. If you do not come, and if I do not hear from you, then I shall know that you could never be happy so far from the people and the country which you love. If, however, you feel you can keep your promise to me, but are of too timid and modest a journey to England unaccompanied, then write to me, and I will, by some means, return to fetch my bride." I read no further. "But Aunt Phina!"I gasped. "Why…why…?" The old lady was watching me with trembling eagerness, her face flushed and her eyes bright with expectation."Read it aloud, my dear,"she said."I want to hear every word of it. There was never anyone I could trust…Uitlanders were hated in my young days…I could not ask anyone." "But, Auntie, don't you even know what he wrote?" The old lady looked down, troubled and shy like a child who has unwittingly done wrong. "No, dear," she said, speaking very low."You see, I never learned to read.


Monday, February 14, 2011

Hop-Frog by edgar allan poe - free short stories online

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  I never knew anyone so keenly alive to a joke as the king was. He seemed to live only for joking. To tell a good story of the joke kind, and to tell it well, was the surest road to his favor. Thus it happened that his seven ministers were all noted for their accomplishments as jokers. They all took after the king, too, in being large, corpulent, oily men, as well as inimitable jokers. Whether people grow fat by joking, or whether there is something in fat itself which predisposes to a joke, I have never been quite able to determine; but certain it is that a lean joker is a rara avis in terris.

About the refinements, or, as he called them, the 'ghost' of wit, the king troubled himself very little. He had an especial admiration for breadth in a jest, and would often put up with length, for the sake of it. Over-niceties wearied him. He would have preferred Rabelais' 'Gargantua' to the 'Zadig' of Voltaire: and, upon the whole, practical jokes suited his taste far better than verbal ones.

At the date of my narrative, professing jesters had not altogether gone out of fashion at court. Several of the great continental 'powers' still retain their 'fools,' who wore motley, with caps and bells, and who were expected to be always ready with sharp witticisms, at a moment's notice, in consideration of the crumbs that fell from the royal table.

Our king, as a matter of course, retained his 'fool.' The fact is, he required something in the way of folly -- if only to counterbalance the heavy wisdom of the seven wise men who were his ministers -- not to mention himself.

His fool, or professional jester, was not only a fool, however. His value was trebled in the eyes of the king, by the fact of his being also a dwarf and a cripple. Dwarfs were as common at court, in those days, as fools; and many monarchs would have found it difficult to get through their days (days are rather longer at court than elsewhere) without both a jester to laugh with, and a dwarf to laugh at. But, as I have already observed, your jesters, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, are fat, round, and unwieldy -- so that it was no small source of self-gratulation with our king that, in Hop-Frog (this was the fool's name), he possessed a triplicate treasure in one person.

I believe the name 'Hop-Frog' was not that given to the dwarf by his sponsors at baptism, but it was conferred upon him, by general consent of the several ministers, on account of his inability to walk as other men do. In fact, Hop-Frog could only get along by a sort of interjectional gait -- something between a leap and a wriggle -- a movement that afforded illimitable amusement, and of course consolation, to the king, for (notwithstanding the protuberance of his stomach and a constitutional swelling of the head) the king, by his whole court, was accounted a capital figure.

But although Hop-Frog, through the distortion of his legs, could move only with great pain and difficulty along a road or floor, the prodigious muscular power which nature seemed to have bestowed upon his arms, by way of compensation for deficiency in the lower limbs, enabled him to perform many feats of wonderful dexterity, where trees or ropes were in question, or any thing else to climb. At such exercises he certainly much more resembled a squirrel, or a small monkey, than a frog.

I am not able to say, with precision, from what country Hop-Frog originally came. It was from some barbarous region, however, that no person ever heard of -- a vast distance from the court of our king. Hop-Frog, and a young girl very little less dwarfish than himself (although of exquisite proportions, and a marvellous dancer), had been forcibly carried off from their respective homes in adjoining provinces, and sent as presents to the king, by one of his ever-victorious generals.

Under these circumstances, it is not to be wondered at that a close intimacy arose between the two little captives. Indeed, they soon became sworn friends. Hop-Frog, who, although he made a great deal of sport, was by no means popular, had it not in his power to render Trippetta many services; but she, on account of her grace and exquisite beauty (although a dwarf), was universally admired and petted; so she possessed much influence; and never failed to use it, whenever she could, for the benefit of Hop-Frog.

On some grand state occasion -- I forgot what -- the king determined to have a masquerade, and whenever a masquerade or any thing of that kind, occurred at our court, then the talents, both of Hop-Frog and Trippetta were sure to be called into play. Hop-Frog, in especial, was so inventive in the way of getting up pageants, suggesting novel characters, and arranging costumes, for masked balls, that nothing could be done, it seems, without his assistance.

The night appointed for the fete had arrived. A gorgeous hall had been fitted up, under Trippetta's eye, with every kind of device which could possibly give eclat to a masquerade. The whole court was in a fever of expectation. As for costumes and characters, it might well be supposed that everybody had come to a decision on such points. Many had made up their minds (as to what roles they should assume) a week, or even a month, in advance; and, in fact, there was not a particle of indecision anywhere -- except in the case of the king and his seven minsters. Why they hesitated I never could tell, unless they did it by way of a joke. More probably, they found it difficult, on account of being so fat, to make up their minds. At all events, time flew; and, as a last resort they sent for Trippetta and Hop-Frog.

When the two little friends obeyed the summons of the king they found him sitting at his wine with the seven members of his cabinet council; but the monarch appeared to be in a very ill humor. He knew that Hop-Frog was not fond of wine, for it excited the poor cripple almost to madness; and madness is no comfortable feeling. But the king loved his practical jokes, and took pleasure in forcing Hop-Frog to drink and (as the king called it) 'to be merry.'

"Come here, Hop-Frog," said he, as the jester and his friend entered the room; "swallow this bumper to the health of your absent friends, [here Hop-Frog sighed,] and then let us have the benefit of your invention. We want characters -- characters, man -- something novel -- out of the way. We are wearied with this everlasting sameness. Come, drink! the wine will brighten your wits."

Hop-Frog endeavored, as usual, to get up a jest in reply to these advances from the king; but the effort was too much. It happened to be the poor dwarf's birthday, and the command to drink to his 'absent friends' forced the tears to his eyes. Many large, bitter drops fell into the goblet as he took it, humbly, from the hand of the tyrant.

"Ah! ha! ha!" roared the latter, as the dwarf reluctantly drained the beaker. -- "See what a glass of good wine can do! Why, your eyes are shining already!"

Poor fellow! his large eyes gleamed, rather than shone; for the effect of wine on his excitable brain was not more powerful than instantaneous. He placed the goblet nervously on the table, and looked round upon the company with a half -- insane stare. They all seemed highly amused at the success of the king's 'joke.'

"And now to business," said the prime minister, a very fat man.

"Yes," said the King; "Come lend us your assistance. Characters, my fine fellow; we stand in need of characters -- all of us -- ha! ha! ha!" and as this was seriously meant for a joke, his laugh was chorused by the seven.

Hop-Frog also laughed although feebly and somewhat vacantly.

"Come, come," said the king, impatiently, "have you nothing to suggest?"

"I am endeavoring to think of something novel," replied the dwarf, abstractedly, for he was quite bewildered by the wine.

"Endeavoring!" cried the tyrant, fiercely; "what do you mean by that? Ah, I perceive. You are Sulky, and want more wine. Here, drink this!" and he poured out another goblet full and offered it to the cripple, who merely gazed at it, gasping for breath.

"Drink, I say!" shouted the monster, "or by the fiends-"

The dwarf hesitated. The king grew purple with rage. The courtiers smirked. Trippetta, pale as a corpse, advanced to the monarch's seat, and, falling on her knees before him, implored him to spare her friend.

The tyrant regarded her, for some moments, in evident wonder at her audacity. He seemed quite at a loss what to do or say -- how most becomingly to express his indignation. At last, without uttering a syllable, he pushed her violently from him, and threw the contents of the brimming goblet in her face.

The poor girl got up the best she could, and, not daring even to sigh, resumed her position at the foot of the table.

There was a dead silence for about half a minute, during which the falling of a leaf, or of a feather, might have been heard. It was interrupted by a low, but harsh and protracted grating sound which seemed to come at once from every corner of the room.

"What -- what -- what are you making that noise for?" demanded the king, turning furiously to the dwarf.

The latter seemed to have recovered, in great measure, from his intoxication, and looking fixedly but quietly into the tyrant's face, merely ejaculated:

"I -- I? How could it have been me?"

"The sound appeared to come from without," observed one of the courtiers. "I fancy it was the parrot at the window, whetting his bill upon his cage-wires."

"True," replied the monarch, as if much relieved by the suggestion; "but, on the honor of a knight, I could have sworn that it was the gritting of this vagabond's teeth."

Hereupon the dwarf laughed (the king was too confirmed a joker to object to any one's laughing), and displayed a set of large, powerful, and very repulsive teeth. Moreover, he avowed his perfect willingness to swallow as much wine as desired. The monarch was pacified; and having drained another bumper with no very perceptible ill effect, Hop-Frog entered at once, and with spirit, into the plans for the masquerade.

"I cannot tell what was the association of idea," observed he, very tranquilly, and as if he had never tasted wine in his life, "but just after your majesty, had struck the girl and thrown the wine in her face -- just after your majesty had done this, and while the parrot was making that odd noise outside the window, there came into my mind a capital diversion -- one of my own country frolics -- often enacted among us, at our masquerades: but here it will be new altogether. Unfortunately, however, it requires a company of eight persons and-"

"Here we are!" cried the king, laughing at his acute discovery of the coincidence; "eight to a fraction -- I and my seven ministers. Come! what is the diversion?"

"We call it," replied the cripple, "the Eight Chained Ourang-Outangs, and it really is excellent sport if well enacted."

"We will enact it," remarked the king, drawing himself up, and lowering his eyelids.

"The beauty of the game," continued Hop-Frog, "lies in the fright it occasions among the women."

"Capital!" roared in chorus the monarch and his ministry.

"I will equip you as ourang-outangs," proceeded the dwarf; "leave all that to me. The resemblance shall be so striking, that the company of masqueraders will take you for real beasts -- and of course, they will be as much terrified as astonished."

"Oh, this is exquisite!" exclaimed the king. "Hop-Frog! I will make a man of you."

"The chains are for the purpose of increasing the confusion by their jangling. You are supposed to have escaped, en masse, from your keepers. Your majesty cannot conceive the effect produced, at a masquerade, by eight chained ourang-outangs, imagined to be real ones by most of the company; and rushing in with savage cries, among the crowd of delicately and gorgeously habited men and women. The contrast is inimitable!"

"It must be," said the king: and the council arose hurriedly (as it was growing late), to put in execution the scheme of Hop-Frog.

His mode of equipping the party as ourang-outangs was very simple, but effective enough for his purposes. The animals in question had, at the epoch of my story, very rarely been seen in any part of the civilized world; and as the imitations made by the dwarf were sufficiently beast-like and more than sufficiently hideous, their truthfulness to nature was thus thought to be secured.

The king and his ministers were first encased in tight-fitting stockinet shirts and drawers. They were then saturated with tar. At this stage of the process, some one of the party suggested feathers; but the suggestion was at once overruled by the dwarf, who soon convinced the eight, by ocular demonstration, that the hair of such a brute as the ourang-outang was much more efficiently represented by flax. A thick coating of the latter was accordingly plastered upon the coating of tar. A long chain was now procured. First, it was passed about the waist of the king, and tied, then about another of the party, and also tied; then about all successively, in the same manner. When this chaining arrangement was complete, and the party stood as far apart from each other as possible, they formed a circle; and to make all things appear natural, Hop-Frog passed the residue of the chain in two diameters, at right angles, across the circle, after the fashion adopted, at the present day, by those who capture Chimpanzees, or other large apes, in Borneo.

The grand saloon in which the masquerade was to take place, was a circular room, very lofty, and receiving the light of the sun only through a single window at top. At night (the season for which the apartment was especially designed) it was illuminated principally by a large chandelier, depending by a chain from the centre of the sky-light, and lowered, or elevated, by means of a counter-balance as usual; but (in order not to look unsightly) this latter passed outside the cupola and over the roof.

The arrangements of the room had been left to Trippetta's superintendence; but, in some particulars, it seems, she had been guided by the calmer judgment of her friend the dwarf. At his suggestion it was that, on this occasion, the chandelier was removed. Its waxen drippings (which, in weather so warm, it was quite impossible to prevent) would have been seriously detrimental to the rich dresses of the guests, who, on account of the crowded state of the saloon, could not all be expected to keep from out its centre; that is to say, from under the chandelier. Additional sconces were set in various parts of the hall, out of the war, and a flambeau, emitting sweet odor, was placed in the right hand of each of the Caryatides that stood against the wall -- some fifty or sixty altogether.

The eight ourang-outangs, taking Hop-Frog's advice, waited patiently until midnight (when the room was thoroughly filled with masqueraders) before making their appearance. No sooner had the clock ceased striking, however, than they rushed, or rather rolled in, all together -- for the impediments of their chains caused most of the party to fall, and all to stumble as they entered.

The excitement among the masqueraders was prodigious, and filled the heart of the king with glee. As had been anticipated, there were not a few of the guests who supposed the ferocious-looking creatures to be beasts of some kind in reality, if not precisely ourang-outangs. Many of the women swooned with affright; and had not the king taken the precaution to exclude all weapons from the saloon, his party might soon have expiated their frolic in their blood. As it was, a general rush was made for the doors; but the king had ordered them to be locked immediately upon his entrance; and, at the dwarf's suggestion, the keys had been deposited with him.

While the tumult was at its height, and each masquerader attentive only to his own safety (for, in fact, there was much real danger from the pressure of the excited crowd), the chain by which the chandelier ordinarily hung, and which had been drawn up on its removal, might have been seen very gradually to descend, until its hooked extremity came within three feet of the floor.

Soon after this, the king and his seven friends having reeled about the hall in all directions, found themselves, at length, in its centre, and, of course, in immediate contact with the chain. While they were thus situated, the dwarf, who had followed noiselessly at their heels, inciting them to keep up the commotion, took hold of their own chain at the intersection of the two portions which crossed the circle diametrically and at right angles. Here, with the rapidity of thought, he inserted the hook from which the chandelier had been wont to depend; and, in an instant, by some unseen agency, the chandelier-chain was drawn so far upward as to take the hook out of reach, and, as an inevitable consequence, to drag the ourang-outangs together in close connection, and face to face.

The masqueraders, by this time, had recovered, in some measure, from their alarm; and, beginning to regard the whole matter as a well-contrived pleasantry, set up a loud shout of laughter at the predicament of the apes.

"Leave them to me!" now screamed Hop-Frog, his shrill voice making itself easily heard through all the din. "Leave them to me. I fancy I know them. If I can only get a good look at them, I can soon tell who they are."

Here, scrambling over the heads of the crowd, he managed to get to the wall; when, seizing a flambeau from one of the Caryatides, he returned, as he went, to the centre of the room-leaping, with the agility of a monkey, upon the kings head, and thence clambered a few feet up the chain; holding down the torch to examine the group of ourang-outangs, and still screaming: "I shall soon find out who they are!"

And now, while the whole assembly (the apes included) were convulsed with laughter, the jester suddenly uttered a shrill whistle; when the chain flew violently up for about thirty feet -- dragging with it the dismayed and struggling ourang-outangs, and leaving them suspended in mid-air between the sky-light and the floor. Hop-Frog, clinging to the chain as it rose, still maintained his relative position in respect to the eight maskers, and still (as if nothing were the matter) continued to thrust his torch down toward them, as though endeavoring to discover who they were.

So thoroughly astonished was the whole company at this ascent, that a dead silence, of about a minute's duration, ensued. It was broken by just such a low, harsh, grating sound, as had before attracted the attention of the king and his councillors when the former threw the wine in the face of Trippetta. But, on the present occasion, there could be no question as to whence the sound issued. It came from the fang-like teeth of the dwarf, who ground them and gnashed them as he foamed at the mouth, and glared, with an expression of maniacal rage, into the upturned countenances of the king and his seven companions.

"Ah, ha!" said at length the infuriated jester. "Ah, ha! I begin to see who these people are now!" Here, pretending to scrutinize the king more closely, he held the flambeau to the flaxen coat which enveloped him, and which instantly burst into a sheet of vivid flame. In less than half a minute the whole eight ourang-outangs were blazing fiercely, amid the shrieks of the multitude who gazed at them from below, horror-stricken, and without the power to render them the slightest assistance.

At length the flames, suddenly increasing in virulence, forced the jester to climb higher up the chain, to be out of their reach; and, as he made this movement, the crowd again sank, for a brief instant, into silence. The dwarf seized his opportunity, and once more spoke:

"I now see distinctly." he said, "what manner of people these maskers are. They are a great king and his seven privy-councillors, -- a king who does not scruple to strike a defenceless girl and his seven councillors who abet him in the outrage. As for myself, I am simply Hop-Frog, the jester -- and this is my last jest."

Owing to the high combustibility of both the flax and the tar to which it adhered, the dwarf had scarcely made an end of his brief speech before the work of vengeance was complete. The eight corpses swung in their chains, a fetid, blackened, hideous, and indistinguishable mass. The cripple hurled his torch at them, clambered leisurely to the ceiling, and disappeared through the sky-light.

It is supposed that Trippetta, stationed on the roof of the saloon, had been the accomplice of her friend in his fiery revenge, and that, together, they effected their escape to their own country: for neither was seen again.


Friday, February 11, 2011

in high school funny story - free short stories on line

This short story, funny, in high school. Of a young girl named Alice Smith We offer this on line short story from the collection of short funny stories in 7short-stories blog . 

Certainly no one thinks of and seen a great age, but look and love of his age . My name is Alice Smith and I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma, which showed his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name who had been in my high school class some 40-odd years ago. Could this be the same guy that I had a secret crush on, way back then? Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate. After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School. "Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang," he beamed with pride. "When did you graduate?" I asked. He answered, "In 1959. Why do you ask?" "You were in my class!" I exclaimed. He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, old, bald wrinkled, fat, gray, decrepit son-of-a-gun asked, "What did you teach?" Great to see you here. I hope life brings you much success. I wish you a very happy day.