Edgar Allan Poe 
Una historia de las montañas Ragged/A tale of the Ragged mountains 

Durante el otoño del año 1827, cuando yo residía cerca de Charlottesville, Virginia, casualmente conocí al señor Augusto Bedloe. Este joven caballero era notable en todos los aspectos y despertó en mí profundo interés y curiosidad. Hallé imposible comprender sus relaciones, tanto morales como físicas. Nunca averigüe de dónde venía. Hasta en su edad, aunque le llamo joven gentleman, había algo que me asombraba en no pequeña medida. Ciertamente parecía joven, y no dejaba de hablar de su juventud, pero había momentos en los cuales yo no habría tenido el menor reparo en imaginarlo de cien años de edad, pues nada había tan peculiar como su aspecto exterior. During the fall of the year 1827, while residing near Charlottesville, Virginia, I casually made the acquaintance of Mr. Augustus Bedloe. This young gentleman was remarkable in every respect, and excited in me a profound interest and curiosity. I found it impossible to comprehend him either in his moral or his physical relations. Of his family I could obtain no satisfactory account. Whence he came, I never ascertained. Even about his age—although I call him a young gentleman—there was something which perplexed me in no little degree. He certainly seemed young—and he made a point of speaking about his youth—yet there were moments when I should have had little trouble in imagining him a hundred years of age. But in no regard was he more peculiar than in his personal appearance.