Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXVII, No. 6, December 1850

A delightfully absurd monologue greets the listener, where the narrator playfully claims “we are lunatic” while insisting on flawless sanity. With a blend of mock‑legal jargon and Victorian flamboyance, the speaker weaves a tapestry of self‑contradictions—talking of courtroom pleas, exotic travel, and eccentric accessories—all to assure the audience that nothing truly amiss is afoot.

The piece spirals through whimsical details: a four‑bladed pen‑knife gifted by a congressman, daily shaving rituals with Sheffield razors, and a carefree existence under open dormitory windows. Its humor lies in the exaggerated self‑portrait of a gentleman who paradoxically denies any hint of madness, yet revels in the theatricality of his own confession. Listeners will enjoy the clever wordplay, the satirical take on 19th‑century proprieties, and the charmingly baffling voice that teeters between earnestness and farce.