Cannabalism in the Cars

I must admit. I am not a Mark Twain fan. I want to be! I tried. But the book I tried was probably not the best to begin with.  

A Conneticut Yankee In King Arthur's Court. I never even finished it. The idea was a good one. But I loathe the main character. He's an ambitious beast. Constantly trying to discredit Merlin (something I could NOT condone in the least. Merlin is one of my favorites), build schools, start newspapers, all before their time! He has no respect for the romance of the era he was put into! (Maybe I'll finish it and post a full review sometime.)

But I didn't begin this post initially to talk about that book. 

In an attempt to love Mr. Twain, I purchased the "Complete Short Stories Of Mark Twain". I was pretty excited. I love short stories an had no idea he had written any! (I also purchased "The Complete Short Stories Of Robert Louis Stevenson" but sadly haven't got to him yet.) 

The first two were interesting! One was about a frog and had me giggling to myself. The second was strange. It was very short. About a bad boy named Jim who had the best of luck, compared to the bad boys named James in all the stories. Interesting, but strange. 

But the third. The third is called, "Cannibalism in the Cars". I was quite disturbed.

The author finds himself in a train with an elderly gentleman. He is kind with his manners and seems to know quite a lot about Washington and politics. 

The elderly man, after looking wistfully toward a conversation an attendant is having with a passenger, begins a narrative. 

What followed left me horrified. 

The man began to tell about the time he and fifty or so other male passengers got stranded in the middle of nowhere, on a train, with no provisions, and no hope of escaping by themselves. They had to wait for help. After a week,  they set up a committee and begin to vote on who they were going to eat. The man goes into detail which men tasted the best, which were his favorites, and which were far too lean. 

I won't spoil the end for you but...in a way it was funny. But a horrible kind of funny. The kind when you know it should be awful and not amuse you in the slightest but still, you find yourself amused. 

Mr. Twain had a very strange sense of humor. I wouldn't say this story made me like him more, but I find myself wanting to read more of his work. It intrigued me. 

Have you read any of his short stories? What did you think of them? (If you've read the one described above, please tell me I'm not the only one who found the end slightly amusing...)