ZOLA THE HOBBYIST: 1895

David Wojahn

Forty grains of chloral hydrate and the subject now
may be arranged. Who has a devil in her ear

which she wishes extracted. Given to tics and
  grimaces,
so noted by her curate, who was of course unable

to relieve her. (The preparation of the carbon plate-
tedious work, but soothing.) Has ascended

to the ceiling at twelve each night to join
her mother, who has been dead some years.

Consternation on the husband's part, the farrier
Henri Dietz. Seven offspring, three however

stillborn. Has troubled many wardmates
in the evenings with her cries, for as she converses

with her devil others cannot sleep.
(The carbon print is not only permanent,

but renders a rich tonal scale.) Has been made
by her devil to swallow pins and buttons

and this in turn has further amplified
her cries, restraints now being required

continually, loosened only at such times
as her cries abate. (A pity about the eyes-

one would have preferred them open.) Possesses
as you say, the expected features, lips


exceedingly thick, eye sockets set close,
to indicate a diagnosis of conjestive madness.

(When dry the tissue is exposed
in contact with the negative, and then

immersed in water, together with a blank sheet of
  paper.)
I am pleased, my dear doctor, to hear your words

of admiration for my fiction-pleased
as a fellow scientist, for it is in such a role

that the novelist of today must regard himself.
But I must confess she has not been

our sittings' most intriguing subject-if only
the sedative had not been required!

Had I the chance to capture the eyes!
She lacks, alas, a certain mystery, a fascination.

Do I daresay her devil seems not to dwell
within the details? And would you usher, please,

the next one in? Every man must have a hobby,
and I confess a wondrous love of mine.