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Updated: May 13, 2025
Here he published in 1870 his rhymed satire Kehal refa'im, in which the dark shadows of a Jewish town, the Kahal elders, the rabbis, the Tzaddiks, and other worthies, move weirdly about in the gloom of the nether-world.
There was something unearthly and spectral in his appearance; his hair and beard were wet; his eyes shot here and there in little points of fire; he was like a gnome, weirdly uncanny as he gestured and talked in his monotone while he watched the nigger-head bottom. When he had finished, he did not wait for an answer, but turned and led the way swiftly toward the range houses.
But though the savage gray towers far above shone betimes in the moonlight and the tall trees below rustled weirdly in the night breeze and the rush of the river over the weir rose and fell as is the wont of falling water in the silence of the night, I looked in vain for the wraith of the hapless maiden of the heath and finally gave up the quest."
Adrian, you silly old creature, why didn't you tell me? Now, Mr Fordyce, let me introduce you to my sisters." She wheeled him round and presented him to the Twins. That pair of beauties, I saw at a glance, were out after scalps. They stood up side by side on the hearth-rug, absolutely and weirdly alike, and arrayed on this occasion in garments of identical hue and cut.
Why should you be so frank about your whisky, and give yourself away to me every time about it, and I hide up my weakness from you?" "You're weirdly honest, old girl," he said with a short laugh. "Yes. Even now, if I had not promised him courage of thinking, I suppose he'd have me but I had to live up to what he saw in me." "And that, of course, is what saved me," he said quietly.
For a space it was hard going through the interwoven bushes and briers that tore even Menard's tough skin. The moon was in the sky, and here and there he caught glimpses of the lake lying still and bright. They saw no signs of life save for the flitting bats, and the owls that called weirdly through the reaches of the forest.
From the banks of the Rio Grande to the waters of the Potomac, the lordly Southron laughed over his glass, laughed on the train, laughed in the street, and laughed under his black cowl of weirdly decorated muslin not so much at the victims of the terrible Klan, as at the silly North which was shaking its sides at the mask he wore. It was an era of fun. Everybody laughed.
"Is there a servant waiting? She can't go all alone!" The Professor leaned back in his chair. "Don't disturb yourself," he said. "Halcyone is accustomed to the twilight. It is a strange night-creature leave it alone." John Derringham sat down again. "She is not nearly so attractive-looking as she used to be. If I remember, she was rather a weirdly pretty child."
Then in a voice that never faltered, never failed, she began the story she had to tell. Half an hour had passed. The story was told, and silence reigned in the darkened room. Lady Helena still sat, with averted face, in her distant seat, not moving, not looking up. The dying man still lay gazing weirdly upon his son, death every second drawing nearer and more near.
On the rippling water the moonbeams twinkled like silvery fairy sprites at play; and in the junglelike woods on the shores yawned great caverns of darkness, their evil suggestiveness only heightened by the bars of light shooting down through the matted leaves. Back on the scow a sleepless negro, lying face up to the moonlight, began to croon weirdly.
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