A small man, or at least something like a man, it seemed at first.  An overlarge head, easily twice the circumference of a normal man’s, but with a curiously sketched-in face occupying no more space than a normal man’s would have.  A thick shock of straw-like hair under a precious little boating hat with a blue ribbon.  It was a long moment before I could discern the figure’s body.  Or bodies.  Three tiny bodies, perfectly proportioned but only twelve inches in height and clad in suits of brown tweed, strove imperfectly to hold upright that enormous cranium.  I fancied that I could actually hear each neck creaking in turn as the head wobbled all unbalanced above those over-driven bodies.  An odd apparition, to say the least, and a welcome change from my usual visitor.  And seemingly in reaction to that unbidden recollection, the figure vanished, even as its bizarrely carmine lips appeared to part in speech.  I still wonder who he was and how he came to be here, where he went after.  My usual visitor is most vehement in his denials, and the increase in the odor of sulfur inclines me to belief.