Poe, Edgar Allen / 2008-07-08 00:00:00
1850
HOP-FROG OR THE EIGHT CHAINED OURANG-OUTANGS
by Edgar Allan Poe
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.
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