Baron Sebastian von Trump
speaker
5,524 appearances
2 recordings
1 series
first heard Jul 2026
last heard 8 Aug
Baron Sebastian von Trump’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
Trend
recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 2 in all, peaking in Aug 2026 with 1.
Appearances
It was no easy task, wound up as I was, with my arms lashed down against my body, but by the use of slip knots I finally accomplished the feat, and sitting down, put my legs into the pipe and drew a long breath, for I felt as if I was skewered up in a straitjacket.
Bending down I called out to Bulgar.
He answered with a yelp of joy that brought fresh vigour to my heart.
Now was come the supreme moment.
Which was to witness success or failure.
Failure?
Oh what a dread word is that and yet how often must human lips pronounce it, and in so doing breathe out the sigh in which it ends.
Quickly lowering the weight, I wriggled off the edge of the opening, and straightened myself out as I slipped into the pipe.
Had I stopped it like a cork, or was I moving?
Yes, down, down gently, slowly, noiselessly I went slipping through the pipe to Polyphemus' funnel.
What did I care how that weight caused the line to cut into my ankles?
I was moving.
I was drawing nearer and nearer to Bulgar, whose joyous spark I could hear now and then, nearer to the inner gates of the world within a world.
But woe is me, I suddenly stop, and in spite of all my efforts to tart again by twisting, turning, and shaking my body, it refused to sink another inch, and there I stick.
O Bulgar, Bulgar, I moan, Faithful friend, if thou couldst but reach me, one tug from thee might save thy little master
In a sort of wild and desperate way I now began to feel about me, as well as I could with my hands wedged in so close to my sides, but in a moment or so I had discovered the cause of my coming to such a sudden standstill.
I had struck a portion of the pipe that had a thread to it, like that which encircles a bolt of iron and makes a screw of it.
And the thought came to me that if I could only succeed in giving a revolving motion to my body, I would with every turn twist myself further down toward the end of the pipe.
I could feel that my knuckles and fingertips were being bruised and lacerated by this arduous work, but what cared I for the keen pain that darted from hands to wrists and wrists to elbows?
It was like twisting a screw slowly through a long nut, only the thread in this case was on the nut and the little grooves in the screw.
Showing 301–320 of 5,524 · page 16 of 277
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