Explore "The Spirit of a Sponge" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I dreamed one night that Stephen Massett died, / And for admission up at Heaven applied. / "Who are you?" asked St. Peter. Massett said: / "Jeems Pipes, of Pipesville." Peter bowed his head, / Opened the gates and said: "I'm glad to know you, / And wish we'd something better, sir, to show you." / "Don't mention it," said Stephen, looking bland, / And was about to enter, hat in hand, / When from a cloud below such fumes arose / As tickled tenderly his conscious nose.
He paused, replaced his hat upon his head, / Turned back and to the saintly warden said, / O'er his already sprouting wings: "I swear / I smell some broiling going on down there!" / So Massett's paunch, attracted by the smell, / Followed his nose and found a place in Hell.