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diff --git a/3183-h/3183-h.htm b/3183-h/3183-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..596df8b --- /dev/null +++ b/3183-h/3183-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1277 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Facts Concerning the Recent Carnival of Crime in Connecticut, by Mark + Twain + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Facts Concerning The Recent Carnival Of +Crime In Connecticut, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Facts Concerning The Recent Carnival Of Crime In Connecticut + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 19, 2006 [EBook #3183] +Last Updated: February 24, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNIVAL OF CRIME *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT CARNIVAL OF CRIME IN CONNECTICUT + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Mark Twain + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I was feeling blithe, almost jocund. I put a match to my cigar, and just + then the morning's mail was handed in. The first superscription I glanced + at was in a handwriting that sent a thrill of pleasure through and through + me. It was Aunt Mary's; and she was the person I loved and honored most in + all the world, outside of my own household. She had been my boyhood's + idol; maturity, which is fatal to so many enchantments, had not been able + to dislodge her from her pedestal; no, it had only justified her right to + be there, and placed her dethronement permanently among the + impossibilities. To show how strong her influence over me was, I will + observe that long after everybody else's “do-stop-smoking” had ceased to + affect me in the slightest degree, Aunt Mary could still stir my torpid + conscience into faint signs of life when she touched upon the matter. But + all things have their limit in this world. A happy day came at last, when + even Aunt Mary's words could no longer move me. I was not merely glad to + see that day arrive; I was more than glad—I was grateful; for when + its sun had set, the one alloy that was able to mar my enjoyment of my + aunt's society was gone. The remainder of her stay with us that winter was + in every way a delight. Of course she pleaded with me just as earnestly as + ever, after that blessed day, to quit my pernicious habit, but to no + purpose whatever; the moment she opened the subject I at once became + calmly, peacefully, contentedly indifferent—absolutely, adamantinely + indifferent. Consequently the closing weeks of that memorable visit melted + away as pleasantly as a dream, they were so freighted for me with tranquil + satisfaction. I could not have enjoyed my pet vice more if my gentle + tormentor had been a smoker herself, and an advocate of the practice. + Well, the sight of her handwriting reminded me that I way getting very + hungry to see her again. I easily guessed what I should find in her + letter. I opened it. Good! just as I expected; she was coming! Coming this + very day, too, and by the morning train; I might expect her any moment. + </p> + <p> + I said to myself, “I am thoroughly happy and content now. If my most + pitiless enemy could appear before me at this moment, I would freely right + any wrong I may have done him.” + </p> + <p> + Straightway the door opened, and a shriveled, shabby dwarf entered. He was + not more than two feet high. He seemed to be about forty years old. Every + feature and every inch of him was a trifle out of shape; and so, while one + could not put his finger upon any particular part and say, “This is a + conspicuous deformity,” the spectator perceived that this little person + was a deformity as a whole—a vague, general, evenly blended, nicely + adjusted deformity. There was a fox-like cunning in the face and the sharp + little eyes, and also alertness and malice. And yet, this vile bit of + human rubbish seemed to bear a sort of remote and ill-defined resemblance + to me! It was dully perceptible in the mean form, the countenance, and + even the clothes, gestures, manner, and attitudes of the creature. He was + a farfetched, dim suggestion of a burlesque upon me, a caricature of me in + little. One thing about him struck me forcibly and most unpleasantly: he + was covered all over with a fuzzy, greenish mold, such as one sometimes + sees upon mildewed bread. The sight of it was nauseating. + </p> + <p> + He stepped along with a chipper air, and flung himself into a doll's chair + in a very free-and-easy way, without waiting to be asked. He tossed his + hat into the waste-basket. He picked up my old chalk pipe from the floor, + gave the stem a wipe or two on his knee, filled the bowl from the + tobacco-box at his side, and said to me in a tone of pert command: + </p> + <p> + “Gimme a match!” + </p> + <p> + I blushed to the roots of my hair; partly with indignation, but mainly + because it somehow seemed to me that this whole performance was very like + an exaggeration of conduct which I myself had sometimes been guilty of in + my intercourse with familiar friends—but never, never with + strangers, I observed to myself. I wanted to kick the pygmy into the fire, + but some incomprehensible sense of being legally and legitimately under + his authority forced me to obey his order. He applied the match to the + pipe, took a contemplative whiff or two, and remarked, in an irritatingly + familiar way: + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me it's devilish odd weather for this time of year.” + </p> + <p> + I flushed again, and in anger and humiliation as before; for the language + was hardly an exaggeration of some that I have uttered in my day, and + moreover was delivered in a tone of voice and with an exasperating drawl + that had the seeming of a deliberate travesty of my style. Now there is + nothing I am quite so sensitive about as a mocking imitation of my + drawling infirmity of speech. I spoke up sharply and said: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you miserable ash-cat! you will have to give a little more + attention to your manners, or I will throw you out of the window!” + </p> + <p> + The manikin smiled a smile of malicious content and security, puffed a + whiff of smoke contemptuously toward me, and said, with a still more + elaborate drawl: + </p> + <p> + “Come—go gently now; don't put on too many airs with your betters.” + </p> + <p> + This cool snub rasped me all over, but it seemed to subjugate me, too, for + a moment. The pygmy contemplated me awhile with his weasel eyes, and then + said, in a peculiarly sneering way: + </p> + <p> + “You turned a tramp away from your door this morning.” + </p> + <p> + I said crustily: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't. How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know. It isn't any matter how I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Suppose I did turn a tramp away from the door—what of + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing; nothing in particular. Only you lied to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't! That is, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you did; you lied to him.” + </p> + <p> + I felt a guilty pang—in truth, I had felt it forty times before that + tramp had traveled a block from my door—but still I resolved to make + a show of feeling slandered; so I said: + </p> + <p> + “This is a baseless impertinence. I said to the tramp—” + </p> + <p> + “There—wait. You were about to lie again. I know what you said to + him. You said the cook was gone down-town and there was nothing left from + breakfast. Two lies. You knew the cook was behind the door, and plenty of + provisions behind her.” + </p> + <p> + This astonishing accuracy silenced me; and it filled me with wondering + speculations, too, as to how this cub could have got his information. Of + course he could have culled the conversation from the tramp, but by what + sort of magic had he contrived to find out about the concealed cook? Now + the dwarf spoke again: + </p> + <p> + “It was rather pitiful, rather small, in you to refuse to read that poor + young woman's manuscript the other day, and give her an opinion as to its + literary value; and she had come so far, too, and so hopefully. Now wasn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + I felt like a cur! And I had felt so every time the thing had recurred to + my mind, I may as well confess. I flushed hotly and said: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, have you nothing better to do than prowl around prying into + other people's business? Did that girl tell you that?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind whether she did or not. The main thing is, you did that + contemptible thing. And you felt ashamed of it afterward. Aha! you feel + ashamed of it now!” + </p> + <p> + This was a sort of devilish glee. With fiery earnestness I responded: + </p> + <p> + “I told that girl, in the kindest, gentlest way, that I could not consent + to deliver judgment upon any one's manuscript, because an individual's + verdict was worthless. It might underrate a work of high merit and lose it + to the world, or it might overrate a trashy production and so open the way + for its infliction upon the world: I said that the great public was the + only tribunal competent to sit in judgment upon a literary effort, and + therefore it must be best to lay it before that tribunal in the outset, + since in the end it must stand or fall by that mighty court's decision + anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you said all that. So you did, you juggling, small-souled shuffler! + And yet when the happy hopefulness faded out of that poor girl's face, + when you saw her furtively slip beneath her shawl the scroll she had so + patiently and honestly scribbled at—so ashamed of her darling now, + so proud of it before—when you saw the gladness go out of her eyes + and the tears come there, when she crept away so humbly who had come so—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, peace! peace! peace! Blister your merciless tongue, haven't all these + thoughts tortured me enough without your coming here to fetch them back + again!” + </p> + <p> + Remorse! remorse! It seemed to me that it would eat the very heart out of + me! And yet that small fiend only sat there leering at me with joy and + contempt, and placidly chuckling. Presently he began to speak again. Every + sentence was an accusation, and every accusation a truth. Every clause was + freighted with sarcasm and derision, every slow-dropping word burned like + vitriol. The dwarf reminded me of times when I had flown at my children in + anger and punished them for faults which a little inquiry would have + taught me that others, and not they, had committed. He reminded me of how + I had disloyally allowed old friends to be traduced in my hearing, and + been too craven to utter a word in their defense. He reminded me of many + dishonest things which I had done; of many which I had procured to be done + by children and other irresponsible persons; of some which I had planned, + thought upon, and longed to do, and been kept from the performance by fear + of consequences only. With exquisite cruelty he recalled to my mind, item + by item, wrongs and unkindnesses I had inflicted and humiliations I had + put upon friends since dead, “who died thinking of those injuries, maybe, + and grieving over them,” he added, by way of poison to the stab. + </p> + <p> + “For instance,” said he, “take the case of your younger brother, when you + two were boys together, many a long year ago. He always lovingly trusted + in you with a fidelity that your manifold treacheries were not able to + shake. He followed you about like a dog, content to suffer wrong and abuse + if he might only be with you; patient under these injuries so long as it + was your hand that inflicted them. The latest picture you have of him in + health and strength must be such a comfort to you! You pledged your honor + that if he would let you blindfold him no harm should come to him; and + then, giggling and choking over the rare fun of the joke, you led him to a + brook thinly glazed with ice, and pushed him in; and how you did laugh! + Man, you will never forget the gentle, reproachful look he gave you as he + struggled shivering out, if you live a thousand years! Oh! you see it now, + you see it now!” + </p> + <p> + “Beast, I have seen it a million times, and shall see it a million more! + and may you rot away piecemeal, and suffer till doomsday what I suffer + now, for bringing it back to me again!” + </p> + <p> + The dwarf chuckled contentedly, and went on with his accusing history of + my career. I dropped into a moody, vengeful state, and suffered in silence + under the merciless lash. At last this remark of his gave me a sudden + rouse: + </p> + <p> + “Two months ago, on a Tuesday, you woke up, away in the night, and fell to + thinking, with shame, about a peculiarly mean and pitiful act of yours + toward a poor ignorant Indian in the wilds of the Rocky Mountains in the + winter of eighteen hundred and—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop a moment, devil! Stop! Do you mean to tell me that even my very + thoughts are not hidden from you?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to look like that. Didn't you think the thoughts I have just + mentioned?” + </p> + <p> + “If I didn't, I wish I may never breathe again! Look here, friend—look + me in the eye. Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, who do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are Satan himself. I think you are the devil.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “No? Then who can you be?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you really like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I would.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am your Conscience!” + </p> + <p> + In an instant I was in a blaze of joy and exultation. I sprang at the + creature, roaring: + </p> + <p> + “Curse you, I have wished a hundred million times that you were tangible, + and that I could get my hands on your throat once! Oh, but I will wreak a + deadly vengeance on—” + </p> + <p> + Folly! Lightning does not move more quickly than my Conscience did! He + darted aloft so suddenly that in the moment my fingers clutched the empty + air he was already perched on the top of the high bookcase, with his thumb + at his nose in token of derision. I flung the poker at him, and missed. I + fired the bootjack. In a blind rage I flew from place to place, and + snatched and hurled any missile that came handy; the storm of books, + inkstands, and chunks of coal gloomed the air and beat about the manikin's + perch relentlessly, but all to no purpose; the nimble figure dodged every + shot; and not only that, but burst into a cackle of sarcastic and + triumphant laughter as I sat down exhausted. While I puffed and gasped + with fatigue and excitement, my Conscience talked to this effect: + </p> + <p> + “My good slave, you are curiously witless—no, I mean + characteristically so. In truth, you are always consistent, always + yourself, always an ass. Other wise it must have occurred to you that if + you attempted this murder with a sad heart and a heavy conscience, I would + droop under the burdening in influence instantly. Fool, I should have + weighed a ton, and could not have budged from the floor; but instead, you + are so cheerfully anxious to kill me that your conscience is as light as a + feather; hence I am away up here out of your reach. I can almost respect a + mere ordinary sort of fool; but you pah!” + </p> + <p> + I would have given anything, then, to be heavyhearted, so that I could get + this person down from there and take his life, but I could no more be + heavy-hearted over such a desire than I could have sorrowed over its + accomplishment. So I could only look longingly up at my master, and rave + at the ill luck that denied me a heavy conscience the one only time that I + had ever wanted such a thing in my life. By and by I got to musing over + the hour's strange adventure, and of course my human curiosity began to + work. I set myself to framing in my mind some questions for this fiend to + answer. Just then one of my boys entered, leaving the door open behind + him, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “My! what has been going on here? The bookcase is all one riddle of—” + </p> + <p> + I sprang up in consternation, and shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Out of this! Hurry! jump! Fly! Shut the door! Quick, or my Conscience + will get away!” + </p> + <p> + The door slammed to, and I locked it. I glanced up and was grateful, to + the bottom of my heart, to see that my owner was still my prisoner. I + said: + </p> + <p> + “Hang you, I might have lost you! Children are the heedlessest creatures. + But look here, friend, the boy did not seem to notice you at all; how is + that?” + </p> + <p> + “For a very good reason. I am invisible to all but you.” + </p> + <p> + I made a mental note of that piece of information with a good deal of + satisfaction. I could kill this miscreant now, if I got a chance, and no + one would know it. But this very reflection made me so lighthearted that + my Conscience could hardly keep his seat, but was like to float aloft + toward the ceiling like a toy balloon. I said, presently: + </p> + <p> + “Come, my Conscience, let us be friendly. Let us fly a flag of truce for a + while. I am suffering to ask you some questions.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, in the first place, why were you never visible to me before?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you never asked to see me before; that is, you never asked in the + right spirit and the proper form before. You were just in the right spirit + this time, and when you called for your most pitiless enemy I was that + person by a very large majority, though you did not suspect it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, did that remark of mine turn you into flesh and blood?” + </p> + <p> + “No. It only made me visible to you. I am unsubstantial, just as other + spirits are.” + </p> + <p> + This remark prodded me with a sharp misgiving. + </p> + <p> + If he was unsubstantial, how was I going to kill him? But I dissembled, + and said persuasively: + </p> + <p> + “Conscience, it isn't sociable of you to keep at such a distance. Come + down and take another smoke.” + </p> + <p> + This was answered with a look that was full of derision, and with this + observation added: + </p> + <p> + “Come where you can get at me and kill me? The invitation is declined with + thanks.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said I to myself; “so it seems a spirit can be killed, after + all; there will be one spirit lacking in this world, presently, or I lose + my guess.” Then I said aloud: + </p> + <p> + “Friend—” + </p> + <p> + “There; wait a bit. I am not your friend. I am your enemy; I am not your + equal, I am your master, Call me 'my lord,' if you please. You are too + familiar.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like such titles. I am willing to call you, sir. That is as far + as—” + </p> + <p> + “We will have no argument about this. Just obey, that is all. Go on with + your chatter.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my lord—since nothing but my lord will suit you—I + was going to ask you how long you will be visible to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Always!” + </p> + <p> + I broke out with strong indignation: “This is simply an outrage. That is + what I think of it! You have dogged, and dogged, and dogged me, all the + days of my life, invisible. That was misery enough, now to have such a + looking thing as you tagging after me like another shadow all the rest of + my day is an intolerable prospect. You have my opinion my lord, make the + most of it.” + </p> + <p> + “My lad, there was never so pleased a conscience in this world as I was + when you made me visible. It gives me an inconceivable advantage. Now I + can look you straight in the eye, and call you names, and leer at you, + jeer at you, sneer at you; and you know what eloquence there is in visible + gesture and expression, more especially when the effect is heightened by + audible speech. I shall always address you henceforth in your o-w-n + s-n-i-v-e-l-i-n-g d-r-a-w-l—baby!” + </p> + <p> + I let fly with the coal-hod. No result. My lord said: + </p> + <p> + “Come, come! Remember the flag of truce!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I forgot that. I will try to be civil; and you try it, too, for a + novelty. The idea of a civil conscience! It is a good joke; an excellent + joke. All the consciences I have ever heard of were nagging, badgering, + fault-finding, execrable savages! Yes; and always in a sweat about some + poor little insignificant trifle or other—destruction catch the lot + of them, I say! I would trade mine for the smallpox and seven kinds of + consumption, and be glad of the chance. Now tell me, why is it that a + conscience can't haul a man over the coals once, for an offense, and then + let him alone? Why is it that it wants to keep on pegging at him, day and + night and night and day, week in and week out, forever and ever, about the + same old thing? There is no sense in that, and no reason in it. I think a + conscience that will act like that is meaner than the very dirt itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, WE like it; that suffices.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you do it with the honest intent to improve a man?” + </p> + <p> + That question produced a sarcastic smile, and this reply: + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Excuse me. We do it simply because it is 'business.' It is our + trade. The purpose of it is to improve the man, but we are merely + disinterested agents. We are appointed by authority, and haven't anything + to say in the matter. We obey orders and leave the consequences where they + belong. But I am willing to admit this much: we do crowd the orders a + trifle when we get a chance, which is most of the time. We enjoy it. We + are instructed to remind a man a few times of an error; and I don't mind + acknowledging that we try to give pretty good measure. And when we get + hold of a man of a peculiarly sensitive nature, oh, but we do haze him! I + have consciences to come all the way from China and Russia to see a person + of that kind put through his paces, on a special occasion. Why, I knew a + man of that sort who had accidentally crippled a mulatto baby; the news + went abroad, and I wish you may never commit another sin if the + consciences didn't flock from all over the earth to enjoy the fun and help + his master exorcise him. That man walked the floor in torture for + forty-eight hours, without eating or sleeping, and then blew his brains + out. The child was perfectly well again in three weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you are a precious crew, not to put it too strong. I think I begin + to see now why you have always been a trifle inconsistent with me. In your + anxiety to get all the juice you can out of a sin, you make a man repent + of it in three or four different ways. For instance, you found fault with + me for lying to that tramp, and I suffered over that. But it was only + yesterday that I told a tramp the square truth, to wit, that, it being + regarded as bad citizenship to encourage vagrancy, I would give him + nothing. What did you do then: Why, you made me say to myself, 'Ah, it + would have been so much kinder and more blameless to ease him off with a + little white lie, and send him away feeling that if he could not have + bread, the gentle treatment was at least something to be grateful for!' + Well, I suffered all day about that. Three days before I had fed a tramp, + and fed him freely, supposing it a virtuous act. Straight off you said, + 'Oh, false citizen, to have fed a tramp!' and I suffered as usual. I gave + a tramp work; you objected to it—after the contract was made, of + course; you never speak up beforehand. Next, I refused a tramp work; you + objected to that. Next, I proposed to kill a tramp; you kept me awake all + night, oozing remorse at every pore. Sure I was going to be right this + time, I sent the next tramp away with my benediction; and I wish you may + live as long as I do, if you didn't make me smart all night again because + I didn't kill him. Is there any way of satisfying that malignant invention + which is called a conscience?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! this is luxury! Go on!” + </p> + <p> + “But come, now, answer me that question. Is there any way?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, none that I propose to tell you, my son. Ass! I don't care what act + you may turn your hand to, I can straightway whisper a word in your ear + and make you think you have committed a dreadful meanness. It is my + business—and my joy—to make you repent of everything you do. + If I have fooled away any opportunities it was not intentional; I beg to + assure you it was not intentional!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry; you haven't missed a trick that I know of. I never did a + thing in all my life, virtuous or otherwise, that I didn't repent of in + twenty-four hours. In church last Sunday I listened to a charity sermon. + My first impulse was to give three hundred and fifty dollars; I repented + of that and reduced it a hundred; repented of that and reduced it another + hundred; repented of that and reduced it another hundred; repented of that + and reduced the remaining fifty to twenty-five; repented of that and came + down to fifteen; repented of that and dropped to two dollars and a half; + when the plate came around at last, I repented once more and contributed + ten cents. Well, when I got home, I did wish to goodness I had that ten + cents back again! You never did let me get through a charity sermon + without having something to sweat about.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, and I never shall, I never shall. You can always depend on me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so. Many and many's the restless night I've wanted to take you by + the neck. If I could only get hold of you now!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, no doubt. But I am not an ass; I am only the saddle of an ass. But + go on, go on. You entertain me more than I like to confess.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of that. (You will not mind my lying a little, to keep in + practice.) Look here; not to be too personal, I think you are about the + shabbiest and most contemptible little shriveled-up reptile that can be + imagined. I am grateful enough that you are invisible to other people, for + I should die with shame to be seen with such a mildewed monkey of a + conscience as you are. Now if you were five or six feet high, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come! who is to blame?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are; nobody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Confound you, I wasn't consulted about your personal appearance.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care, you had a good deal to do with it, nevertheless. When you + were eight or nine years old, I was seven feet high, and as pretty as a + picture.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you had died young! So you have grown the wrong way, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Some of us grow one way and some the other. You had a large conscience + once; if you've a small conscience now I reckon there are reasons for it. + However, both of us are to blame, you and I. You see, you used to be + conscientious about a great many things; morbidly so, I may say. It was a + great many years ago. You probably do not remember it now. Well, I took a + great interest in my work, and I so enjoyed the anguish which certain pet + sins of yours afflicted you with that I kept pelting at you until I rather + overdid the matter. You began to rebel. Of course I began to lose ground, + then, and shrivel a little—diminish in stature, get moldy, and grow + deformed. The more I weakened, the more stubbornly you fastened on to + those particular sins; till at last the places on my person that represent + those vices became as callous as shark-skin. Take smoking, for instance. I + played that card a little too long, and I lost. When people plead with you + at this late day to quit that vice, that old callous place seems to + enlarge and cover me all over like a shirt of mail. It exerts a + mysterious, smothering effect; and presently I, your faithful hater, your + devoted Conscience, go sound asleep! Sound? It is no name for it. I + couldn't hear it thunder at such a time. You have some few other vices—perhaps + eighty, or maybe ninety—that affect me in much the same way.” + </p> + <p> + “This is flattering; you must be asleep a good part of your time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of late years. I should be asleep all the time but for the help I + get.” + </p> + <p> + “Who helps you?” + </p> + <p> + “Other consciences. Whenever a person whose conscience I am acquainted + with tries to plead with you about the vices you are callous to, I get my + friend to give his client a pang concerning some villainy of his own, and + that shuts off his meddling and starts him off to hunt personal + consolation. My field of usefulness is about trimmed down to tramps, + budding authoresses, and that line of goods now; but don't you worry—I'll + harry you on theirs while they last! Just you put your trust in me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I can. But if you had only been good enough to mention these + facts some thirty years ago, I should have turned my particular attention + to sin, and I think that by this time I should not only have had you + pretty permanently asleep on the entire list of human vices, but reduced + to the size of a homeopathic pill, at that. That is about the style of + conscience I am pining for. If I only had you shrunk you down to a + homeopathic pill, and could get my hands on you, would I put you in a + glass case for a keepsake? No, sir. I would give you to a yellow dog! That + is where you ought to be—you and all your tribe. You are not fit to + be in society, in my opinion. Now another question. Do you know a good + many consciences in this section?” + </p> + <p> + “Plenty of them.” + </p> + <p> + “I would give anything to see some of them! Could you bring them here? And + would they be visible to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I ought to have known that without asking. But no matter, you + can describe them. Tell me about my neighbor Thompson's conscience, + please.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I know him intimately; have known him many years. I knew him + when he was eleven feet high and of a faultless figure. But he is very + pasty and tough and misshapen now, and hardly ever interests himself about + anything. As to his present size—well, he sleeps in a cigar-box.” + </p> + <p> + “Likely enough. There are few smaller, meaner men in this region than Hugh + Thompson. Do you know Robinson's conscience?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He is a shade under four and a half feet high; used to be a blond; + is a brunette now, but still shapely and comely.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Robinson is a good fellow. Do you know Tom Smith's conscience?” + </p> + <p> + “I have known him from childhood. He was thirteen inches high, and rather + sluggish, when he was two years old—as nearly all of us are at that + age. He is thirty-seven feet high now, and the stateliest figure in + America. His legs are still racked with growing-pains, but he has a good + time, nevertheless. Never sleeps. He is the most active and energetic + member of the New England Conscience Club; is president of it. Night and + day you can find him pegging away at Smith, panting with his labor, + sleeves rolled up, countenance all alive with enjoyment. He has got his + victim splendidly dragooned now. He can make poor Smith imagine that the + most innocent little thing he does is an odious sin; and then he sets to + work and almost tortures the soul out of him about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith is the noblest man in all this section, and the purest; and yet is + always breaking his heart because he cannot be good! Only a conscience + could find pleasure in heaping agony upon a spirit like that. Do you know + my aunt Mary's conscience?” + </p> + <p> + “I have seen her at a distance, but am not acquainted with her. She lives + in the open air altogether, because no door is large enough to admit her.” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe that. Let me see. Do you know the conscience of that + publisher who once stole some sketches of mine for a 'series' of his, and + then left me to pay the law expenses I had to incur in order to choke him + off?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He has a wide fame. He was exhibited, a month ago, with some other + antiquities, for the benefit of a recent Member of the Cabinet's + conscience that was starving in exile. Tickets and fares were high, but I + traveled for nothing by pretending to be the conscience of an editor, and + got in for half-price by representing myself to be the conscience of a + clergyman. However, the publisher's conscience, which was to have been the + main feature of the entertainment, was a failure—as an exhibition. + He was there, but what of that? The management had provided a microscope + with a magnifying power of only thirty thousand diameters, and so nobody + got to see him, after all. There was great and general dissatisfaction, of + course, but—” + </p> + <p> + Just here there was an eager footstep on the stair; I opened the door, and + my aunt Mary burst into the room. It was a joyful meeting and a cheery + bombardment of questions and answers concerning family matters ensued. By + and by my aunt said: + </p> + <p> + “But I am going to abuse you a little now. You promised me, the day I saw + you last, that you would look after the needs of the poor family around + the corner as faithfully as I had done it myself. Well, I found out by + accident that you failed of your promise. Was that right?” + </p> + <p> + In simple truth, I never had thought of that family a second time! And now + such a splintering pang of guilt shot through me! I glanced up at my + Conscience. Plainly, my heavy heart was affecting him. His body was + drooping forward; he seemed about to fall from the bookcase. My aunt + continued: + </p> + <p> + “And think how you have neglected my poor protege at the almshouse, you + dear, hard-hearted promise-breaker!” I blushed scarlet, and my tongue was + tied. As the sense of my guilty negligence waxed sharper and stronger, my + Conscience began to sway heavily back and forth; and when my aunt, after a + little pause, said in a grieved tone, “Since you never once went to see + her, maybe it will not distress you now to know that that poor child died, + months ago, utterly friendless and forsaken!” My Conscience could no + longer bear up under the weight of my sufferings, but tumbled headlong + from his high perch and struck the floor with a dull, leaden thump. He lay + there writhing with pain and quaking with apprehension, but straining + every muscle in frantic efforts to get up. In a fever of expectancy I + sprang to the door, locked it, placed my back against it, and bent a + watchful gaze upon my struggling master. Already my fingers were itching + to begin their murderous work. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what can be the matter!” exclaimed by aunt, shrinking from me, and + following with her frightened eyes the direction of mine. My breath was + coming in short, quick gasps now, and my excitement was almost + uncontrollable. My aunt cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not look so! You appal me! Oh, what can the matter be? What is it + you see? Why do you stare so? Why do you work your fingers like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Peace, woman!” I said, in a hoarse whisper. “Look elsewhere; pay no + attention to me; it is nothing—nothing. I am often this way. It will + pass in a moment. It comes from smoking too much.” + </p> + <p> + My injured lord was up, wild-eyed with terror, and trying to hobble toward + the door. I could hardly breathe, I was so wrought up. My aunt wrung her + hands, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I knew how it would be; I knew it would come to this at last! Oh, I + implore you to crush out that fatal habit while it may yet be time! You + must not, you shall not be deaf to my supplications longer!” My struggling + Conscience showed sudden signs of weariness! “Oh, promise me you will + throw off this hateful slavery of tobacco!” My Conscience began to reel + drowsily, and grope with his hands—enchanting spectacle! “I beg you, + I beseech you, I implore you! Your reason is deserting you! There is + madness in your eye! It flames with frenzy! Oh, hear me, hear me, and be + saved! See, I plead with you on my very knees!” As she sank before me my + Conscience reeled again, and then drooped languidly to the floor, blinking + toward me a last supplication for mercy, with heavy eyes. “Oh, promise, or + you are lost! Promise, and be redeemed! Promise! Promise and live!” With a + long-drawn sigh my conquered Conscience closed his eyes and fell fast + asleep! + </p> + <p> + With an exultant shout I sprang past my aunt, and in an instant I had my + lifelong foe by the throat. After so many years of waiting and longing, he + was mine at last. I tore him to shreds and fragments. I rent the fragments + to bits. I cast the bleeding rubbish into the fire, and drew into my + nostrils the grateful incense of my burnt-offering. At last, and forever, + my Conscience was dead! + </p> + <p> + I was a free man! I turned upon my poor aunt, who was almost petrified + with terror, and shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Out of this with your paupers, your charities, your reforms, your + pestilent morals! You behold before you a man whose life-conflict is done, + whose soul is at peace; a man whose heart is dead to sorrow, dead to + suffering, dead to remorse; a man WITHOUT A CONSCIENCE! In my joy I spare + you, though I could throttle you and never feel a pang! Fly!” + </p> + <p> + She fled. Since that day my life is all bliss. Bliss, unalloyed bliss. + Nothing in all the world could persuade me to have a conscience again. I + settled all my old outstanding scores, and began the world anew. I killed + thirty-eight persons during the first two weeks—all of them on + account of ancient grudges. I burned a dwelling that interrupted my view. + I swindled a widow and some orphans out of their last cow, which is a very + good one, though not thoroughbred, I believe. I have also committed scores + of crimes, of various kinds, and have enjoyed my work exceedingly, whereas + it would formerly have broken my heart and turned my hair gray, I have no + doubt. + </p> + <p> + In conclusion, I wish to state, by way of advertisement, that medical + colleges desiring assorted tramps for scientific purposes, either by the + gross, by cord measurement, or per ton, will do well to examine the lot in + my cellar before purchasing elsewhere, as these were all selected and + prepared by myself, and can be had at a low rate, because I wish to clear, + out my stock and get ready for the spring trade. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Facts Concerning The Recent +Carnival Of Crime In Connecticut, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNIVAL OF CRIME *** + +***** This file should be named 3183-h.htm or 3183-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/8/3183/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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