that it was
hideously lifelike. It appeared to have been carved in amber, but some
coloring matter must have been introduced, for inside the amber the
creature was of a peculiarly ghastly green. The more I examined the pipe
the more amazed I was at Tress's generosity. He and I are rival
collectors. I am not going to say, in so many words, that his collection
of pipes contains nothing but rubbish, because, as a matter of fact, he
has two or three rather decent specimens. But to compare his collection to
mine would be absurd. Tress is conscious of this, and he resents it. He
resents it to such an extent that he has been known, at least on one
occasion, to declare that one single pipe of his--I believe he alluded to
the Brummagem relic preposterously attributed to Sir Walter Raleigh--was
worth the whole of my collection put together. Although I have forgiven
this, as I hope I always shall forgive remarks made when envious passions
get the better of our nobler nature, even of a Joseph Tress, it is not to
be supposed that I have forgotten it. He was, therefore, not at all the
sort of person from whom I expected to receive a present. And such a
present! I do not believe that he himself had a finer pipe in his
collection. And to have given it to me! I had misjudged the man. I
wondered where he had got it from. I had seen his pipes; I knew them off
by heart--and some nice trumpery he has among them, too! but I had never
seen _that_ pipe before. The more I looked at it, the more my amazement
grew. The beast perched upon the edge of the bowl was so lifelike. Its two
bead-like eyes seemed to gleam at me with positively human intelligence.
The pipe fascinated me to such an extent that I actually resolved
to--smoke it!

I filled it with Perique. Ordinarily I use Birdseye, but on those very
rare occasions on which I use a specimen I smoke Perique. I lit up with
quite a small sensation of excitement. As I did so I kept my eyes perforce
fixed upon the beast. The beast pointed its upraised tentacle directly at
me. As I inhaled the pungent tobacco that tentacle impressed me with a
feeling of actual uncanniness. It was broad daylight, and I was smoking in
front of the window, yet to such an extent was I affected that it seemed
to me that the tentacle was not only vibrating, which, owing to the
peculiarity of its position, was quite within the range of probability,
but actually moving, elongating--stretching forward, that is, farther
towa