I could not help thinking that there was a certain
pride visible even in his placid features, as of one who was
conscious that at any moment he might change this simulated
catastrophe into real terror. I could not help saying this to the
Doctor, who was with me. "Yes," he said with professional
exactitude; "when it happens he'll throw his arms up above his
head, utter an ejaculation, and fall forward on his face,--it's a
singular thing, they always fall forward on their face,--and
they'll pick up the man as dead as Julius Caesar."
After that, I used to go night after night, with a certain hideous
fascination; but, while it will be remembered the "Destruction of
Sennacherib" had a tremendous run, it will also be remembered that
not a single life was really lost during its representation.
It was only a few weeks after this modest first appearance on the
boards of "The Man with an Aneurism," that, happening to be at
dinner party of practical business men, I sought to interest them
with the details of the above story, delivered with such skill and
pathos as I could command.
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