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diff --git a/3189-h/3189-h.htm b/3189-h/3189-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..69102a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/3189-h/3189-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13875 @@ +<?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"> + <head> + <meta name="generator" content="HTML-Kit Tools HTML Tidy plugin" /> + <title> + SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, COMPLETE + </title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; 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%;} +.indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} +.indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} +.indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} +.indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} +.indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} +div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } +div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } +.figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} +.figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} +.pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; +margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; +text-align: right;} +.side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; +border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; +text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; +font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} +p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} +span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } +pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + + <h1> + SKETCHES NEW AND OLD + </h1> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sketches New and Old, Complete +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: Sketches New and Old, Complete + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 20, 2006 [EBook #3189] +Last Updated: May 25, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, COMPLETE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SKETCHES NEW AND OLD + </h1> + <h3> + by Mark Twain + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Complete + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/cover.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS: + </h2> + <p> + <a href="#watch">MY WATCH</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#political">POLITICAL + ECONOMY</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#frog">THE JUMPING FROG</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#journalism">JOURNALISM IN TENNESSEE</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#badboy">THE + STORY OF THE BAD LITTLE BOY</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#goodboy">THE STORY OF + THE GOOD LITTLE BOY</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#poems">A COUPLE OF POEMS BY + TWAIN AND MOORE</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#niagara">NIAGARA</a><br /><br /> <a + href="#answers">ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#poultry">TO + RAISE POULTRY</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#croup">EXPERIENCE OF THE + MCWILLIAMSES WITH MEMBRANOUS CROUP</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#venture">MY + FIRST LITERARY VENTURE</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#newark">HOW THE AUTHOR WAS + SOLD IN NEWARK</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#bore">THE OFFICE BORE</a> <br /><br /> + <a href="#greer">JOHNNY GREER</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#beef">THE FACTS IN + THE CASE OF THE GREAT BEEF CONTRACT</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#fisher">THE + CASE OF GEORGE FISHER</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#persecution">DISGRACEFUL + PERSECUTION OF A BOY</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#spirited">THE JUDGES “SPIRITED + WOMAN"</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#information">INFORMATION WANTED</a> <br /><br /> + <a href="#oldboys">SOME LEARNED FABLES, FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#senatorial">MY LATE SENATORIAL SECRETARYSHIP</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#fashion">A FASHION ITEM</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#riley">RILEY-NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENT</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#oldman">A FINE OLD MAN</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#science">SCIENCE + vs. LUCK</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#franklin">THE LATE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#bloke">MR. BLOKE’S ITEM</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#medieval">A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#petition">PETITION + CONCERNING COPYRIGHT</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#afterdinner">AFTER-DINNER + SPEECH</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#murderers">LIONIZING MURDERERS</a> <br /><br /> + <a href="#newcrime">A NEW CRIME</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#dream">A CURIOUS + DREAM</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#truestory">A TRUE STORY</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#twins">THE SIAMESE TWINS</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#scottish">SPEECH + AT THE SCOTTISH BANQUET IN LONDON</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#ghost">A GHOST + STORY</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#venus">THE CAPITOLINE VENUS</a> <br /><br /> + <a href="#insurance">SPEECH ON ACCIDENT INSURANCE</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#chinaman">JOHN CHINAMAN IN NEW YORK</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#agricultural">HOW I EDITED AN AGRICULTURAL PAPER</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#petrified">THE PETRIFIED MAN</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#massacre">MY + BLOODY MASSACRE</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#undertaker">THE UNDERTAKER’S + CHAT</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#chambermaids">CONCERNING CHAMBERMAIDS</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#aurelia">AURELIA’S UNFORTUNATE YOUNG MAN</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#jenkins">"AFTER” JENKINS</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#barbers">ABOUT BARBERS</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#ireland">"PARTY + CRIES” IN IRELAND</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#resignation">THE FACTS + CONCERNING THE RECENT RESIGNATION</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#history">HISTORY + REPEATS ITSELF</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#curiosity">HONORED AS A CURIOSITY</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#ward">FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD</a> <br /><br /> + <a href="#cannibalism">CANNIBALISM IN THE CARS</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#caesar">THE KILLING OF JULIUS CAESAR “LOCALIZED"</a> <br /><br /> + <a href="#widow">THE WIDOW’S PROTEST</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#panoramist">THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#cold">CURING + A COLD</a> <br /><br /> <a href="#excursion">A CURIOUS PLEASURE EXCURSION</a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#governor">RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR</a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#mysterious">A MYSTERIOUS VISIT</a> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SKETCHES NEW AND OLD + </h1> + <h2> + Part 1. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="watch" id="watch"></a>MY WATCH + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + AN INSTRUCTIVE LITTLE TALE—[Written about 1870.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p017.jpg (147K)" src="images/p017.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + My beautiful new watch had run eighteen months without losing or gaining, + and without breaking any part of its machinery or stopping. I had come to + believe it infallible in its judgments about the time of day, and to + consider its constitution and its anatomy imperishable. But at last, one + night, I let it run down. I grieved about it as if it were a recognized + messenger and forerunner of calamity. But by and by I cheered up, set the + watch by guess, and commanded my bodings and superstitions to depart. Next + day I stepped into the chief jeweler’s to set it by the exact time, + and the head of the establishment took it out of my hand and proceeded to + set it for me. Then he said, “She is four minutes slow-regulator + wants pushing up.” I tried to stop him—tried to make him + understand that the watch kept perfect time. But no; all this human + cabbage could see was that the watch was four minutes slow, and the + regulator must be pushed up a little; and so, while I danced around him in + anguish, and implored him to let the watch alone, he calmly and cruelly + did the shameful deed. My watch began to gain. It gained faster and faster + day by day. Within the week it sickened to a raging fever, and its pulse + went up to a hundred and fifty in the shade. At the end of two months it + had left all the timepieces of the town far in the rear, and was a + fraction over thirteen days ahead of the almanac. It was away into + November enjoying the snow, while the October leaves were still turning. + It hurried up house rent, bills payable, and such things, in such a + ruinous way that I could not abide it. I took it to the watchmaker to be + regulated. He asked me if I had ever had it repaired. I said no, it had + never needed any repairing. He looked a look of vicious happiness and + eagerly pried the watch open, and then put a small dice-box into his eye + and peered into its machinery. He said it wanted cleaning and oiling, + besides regulating—come in a week. After being cleaned and oiled, + and regulated, my watch slowed down to that degree that it ticked like a + tolling bell. I began to be left by trains, + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p018.jpg (23K)" src="images/p018.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I failed all appointments, I got to missing my dinner; my watch strung out + three days’ grace to four and let me go to protest; I gradually + drifted back into yesterday, then day before, then into last week, and by + and by the comprehension came upon me that all solitary and alone I was + lingering along in week before last, and the world was out of sight. I + seemed to detect in myself a sort of sneaking fellow-feeling for the mummy + in the museum, and a desire to swap news with him. I went to a watchmaker + again. He took the watch all to pieces while I waited, and then said the + barrel was “swelled.” He said he could reduce it in three + days. After this the watch averaged well, but nothing more. For half a day + it would go like the very mischief, and keep up such a barking and + wheezing and whooping and sneezing and snorting, that I could not hear + myself think for the disturbance; and as long as it held out there was not + a watch in the land that stood any chance against it. But the rest of the + day it would keep on slowing down and fooling along until all the clocks + it had left behind caught up again. So at last, at the end of twenty-four + hours, it would trot up to the judges’ stand all right and just in + time. It would show a fair and square average, and no man could say it had + done more or less than its duty. But a correct average is only a mild + virtue in a watch, and I took this instrument to another watchmaker. He + said the king-bolt was broken. I said I was glad it was nothing more + serious. To tell the plain truth, I had no idea what the king-bolt was, + but I did not choose to appear ignorant to a stranger. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p019.jpg (28K)" src="images/p019.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + He repaired the king-bolt, but what the watch gained in one way it lost in + another. It would run awhile and then stop awhile, and then run awhile + again, and so on, using its own discretion about the intervals. And every + time it went off it kicked back like a musket. I padded my breast for a + few days, but finally took the watch to another watchmaker. He picked it + all to pieces, and turned the ruin over and over under his glass; and then + he said there appeared to be something the matter with the hair-trigger. + He fixed it, and gave it a fresh start. It did well now, except that + always at ten minutes to ten the hands would shut together like a pair of + scissors, and from that time forth they would travel together. The oldest + man in the world could not make head or tail of the time of day by such a + watch, and so I went again to have the thing repaired. This person said + that the crystal had got bent, and that the mainspring was not straight. + He also remarked that part of the works needed half-soling. He made these + things all right, and then my timepiece performed unexceptionably, save + that now and then, after working along quietly for nearly eight hours, + everything inside would let go all of a sudden and begin to buzz like a + bee, and the hands would straightway begin to spin round and round so fast + that their individuality was lost completely, and they simply seemed a + delicate spider’s web over the face of the watch. She would reel off + the next twenty-four hours in six or seven minutes, and then stop with a + bang. I went with a heavy heart to one more watchmaker, and looked on + while he took her to pieces. Then I prepared to cross-question him + rigidly, for this thing was getting serious. The watch had cost two + hundred dollars originally, and I seemed to have paid out two or three + thousand for repairs. While I waited and looked on I presently recognized + in this watchmaker an old acquaintance—a steamboat engineer of other + days, and not a good engineer, either. He examined all the parts + carefully, just as the other watchmakers had done, and then delivered his + verdict with the same confidence of manner. + </p> + <p> + He said: + </p> + <p> + “She makes too much steam—you want to hang the monkey-wrench + on the safety-valve!” + </p> + <p> + I brained him on the spot, and had him buried at my own expense. + </p> + <p> + My uncle William (now deceased, alas!) used to say that a good horse was, + a good horse until it had run away once, and that a good watch was a good + watch until the repairers got a chance at it. And he used to wonder what + became of all the unsuccessful tinkers, and gunsmiths, and shoemakers, and + engineers, and blacksmiths; but nobody could ever tell him. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="political" id="political">POLITICAL ECONOMY</a> + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p021.jpg (104K)" src="images/p021.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> Political Economy is the basis of all good government. The wisest + men of all ages have brought to bear upon this subject the— + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Here I was interrupted and informed that a stranger wished to see me down + at the door. I went and confronted him, and asked to know his business, + struggling all the time to keep a tight rein on my seething + political-economy ideas, and not let them break away from me or get + tangled in their harness. And privately I wished the stranger was in the + bottom of the canal with a cargo of wheat on top of him. I was all in a + fever, but he was cool. He said he was sorry to disturb me, but as he was + passing he noticed that I needed some lightning-rods. I said, “Yes, + yes—go on—what about it?” He said there was nothing + about it, in particular—nothing except that he would like to put + them up for me. I am new to housekeeping; have been used to hotels and + boarding-houses all my life. Like anybody else of similar experience, I + try to appear (to strangers) to be an old housekeeper; consequently I said + in an offhand way that I had been intending for some time to have six or + eight lightning-rods put up, but—The stranger started, and looked + inquiringly at me, but I was serene. I thought that if I chanced to make + any mistakes, he would not catch me by my countenance. He said he would + rather have my custom than any man’s in town. I said, “All + right,” and started off to wrestle with my great subject again, when + he called me back and said it would be necessary to know exactly how many + “points” I wanted put up, what parts of the house I wanted + them on, and what quality of rod I preferred. It was close quarters for a + man not used to the exigencies of housekeeping; but I went through + creditably, and he probably never suspected that I was a novice. I told + him to put up eight “points,” and put them all on the roof, + and use the best quality of rod. He said he could furnish the “plain” + article at 20 cents a foot; “coppered,” 25 cents; “zinc-plated + spiral-twist,” at 30 cents, that would stop a streak of lightning + any time, no matter where it was bound, and “render its errand + harmless and its further progress apocryphal.” I said apocryphal was + no slouch of a word, emanating from the source it did, but, philology + aside, I liked the spiral-twist and would take that brand. Then he said he + could make two hundred and fifty feet answer; but to do it right, and make + the best job in town of it, and attract the admiration of the just and the + unjust alike, and compel all parties to say they never saw a more + symmetrical and hypothetical display of lightning-rods since they were + born, he supposed he really couldn’t get along without four hundred, + though he was not vindictive, and trusted he was willing to try. I said, + go ahead and use four hundred, and make any kind of a job he pleased out + of it, but let me get back to my work. So I got rid of him at last; and + now, after half an hour spent in getting my train of political-economy + thoughts coupled together again, I am ready to go on once more.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> richest treasures of their genius, their experience of life, and + their learning. The great lights of commercial jurisprudence, + international confraternity, and biological deviation, of all ages, all + civilizations, and all nationalities, from Zoroaster down to Horace + Greeley, have— + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Here I was interrupted again, and required to go down and confer further + with that lightning-rod man. I hurried off, boiling and surging with + prodigious thoughts wombed in words of such majesty that each one of them + was in itself a straggling procession of syllables that might be fifteen + minutes passing a given point, and once more I confronted him—he so + calm and sweet, I so hot and frenzied. He was standing in the + contemplative attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes, with one foot on my + infant tuberose, and the other among my pansies, his hands on his hips, + his hat-brim tilted forward, one eye shut and the other gazing critically + and admiringly in the direction of my principal chimney. He said now there + was a state of things to make a man glad to be alive; and added, “I + leave it to you if you ever saw anything more deliriously picturesque than + eight lightning-rods on one chimney?” I said I had no present + recollection of anything that transcended it. He said that in his opinion + nothing on earth but Niagara Falls was superior to it in the way of + natural scenery. All that was needed now, he verily believed, to make my + house a perfect balm to the eye, was to kind of touch up the other + chimneys a little, and thus “add to the generous ‘coup d’oeil’ + a soothing uniformity of achievement which would allay the excitement + naturally consequent upon the ‘coup d’etat.’” I + asked him if he learned to talk out of a book, and if I could borrow it + anywhere? He smiled pleasantly, and said that his manner of speaking was + not taught in books, and that nothing but familiarity with lightning could + enable a man to handle his conversational style with impunity. He then + figured up an estimate, and said that about eight more rods scattered + about my roof would about fix me right, and he guessed five hundred feet + of stuff would do it; and added that the first eight had got a little the + start of him, so to speak, and used up a mere trifle of material more than + he had calculated on—a hundred feet or along there. I said I was in + a dreadful hurry, and I wished we could get this business permanently + mapped out, so that I could go on with my work. He said, “I could + have put up those eight rods, and marched off about my business—some + men would have done it. But no; I said to myself, this man is a stranger + to me, and I will die before I’ll wrong him; there ain’t + lightning-rods enough on that house, and for one I’ll never stir out + of my tracks till I’ve done as I would be done by, and told him so. + Stranger, my duty is accomplished; if the recalcitrant and dephlogistic + messenger of heaven strikes your—” “There, now, there,” + I said, “put on the other eight—add five hundred feet of + spiral-twist—do anything and everything you want to do; but calm + your sufferings, and try to keep your feelings where you can reach them + with the dictionary. Meanwhile, if we understand each other now, I will go + to work again.” + </p> + <p> + I think I have been sitting here a full hour this time, trying to get back + to where I was when my train of thought was broken up by the last + interruption; but I believe I have accomplished it at last, and may + venture to proceed again.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> wrestled with this great subject, and the greatest among them have + found it a worthy adversary, and one that always comes up fresh and + smiling after every throw. The great Confucius said that he would rather + be a profound political economist than chief of police. Cicero + frequently said that political economy was the grandest consummation + that the human mind was capable of consuming; and even our own Greeley + had said vaguely but forcibly that “Political— + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Here the lightning-rod man sent up another call for me. I went down in a + state of mind bordering on impatience. He said he would rather have died + than interrupt me, but when he was employed to do a job, and that job was + expected to be done in a clean, workmanlike manner, and when it was + finished and fatigue urged him to seek the rest and recreation he stood so + much in need of, and he was about to do it, but looked up and saw at a + glance that all the calculations had been a little out, and if a + thunder-storm were to come up, and that house, which he felt a personal + interest in, stood there with nothing on earth to protect it but sixteen + lightning-rods—“Let us have peace!” I shrieked. “Put + up a hundred and fifty! Put some on the kitchen! Put a dozen on the barn! + Put a couple on the cow! Put one on the cook!—scatter them all over + the persecuted place till it looks like a zinc-plated, spiral-twisted, + silver-mounted cane-brake! Move! Use up all the material you can get your + hands on, and when you run out of lightning-rods put up ramrods, cam-rods, + stair-rods, piston-rods—anything that will pander to your dismal + appetite for artificial scenery, and bring respite to my raging brain and + healing to my lacerated soul!” Wholly unmoved—further than to + smile sweetly—this iron being simply turned back his wrist-bands + daintily, and said he would now proceed to hump himself. Well, all that + was nearly three hours ago. It is questionable whether I am calm enough + yet to write on the noble theme of political economy, but I cannot resist + the desire to try, for it is the one subject that is nearest to my heart + and dearest to my brain of all this world’s philosophy.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> economy is heaven’s best boon to man.” When the loose + but gifted Byron lay in his Venetian exile he observed that, if it could + be granted him to go back and live his misspent life over again, he + would give his lucid and unintoxicated intervals to the composition, not + of frivolous rhymes, but of essays upon political economy. Washington + loved this exquisite science; such names as Baker, Beckwith, Judson, + Smith, are imperishably linked with it; and even imperial Homer, in the + ninth book of the Iliad, has said: + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> Fiat justitia, ruat coelum,<br /> Post mortem unum, ante bellum,<br /> + Hic jacet hoc, ex-parte res,<br /> Politicum e-conomico est. + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> The grandeur of these conceptions of the old poet, together with + the felicity of the wording which clothes them, and the sublimity of the + imagery whereby they are illustrated, have singled out that stanza, and + made it more celebrated than any that ever— + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [“Now, not a word out of you—not a single word. Just state + your bill and relapse into impenetrable silence for ever and ever on these + premises. Nine hundred, dollars? Is that all? This check for the amount + will be honored at any respectable bank in America. What is that multitude + of people gathered in the street for? How?—‘looking at the + lightning-rods!’ Bless my life, did they never see any + lightning-rods before? Never saw ‘such a stack of them on one + establishment,’ did I understand you to say? I will step down and + critically observe this popular ebullition of ignorance.”] + </p> + <p> + THREE DAYS LATER.—We are all about worn out. For four-and-twenty + hours our bristling premises were the talk and wonder of the town. The + theaters languished, for their happiest scenic inventions were tame and + commonplace compared with my lightning-rods. Our street was blocked night + and day with spectators, and among them were many who came from the + country to see. It was a blessed relief on the second day when a + thunderstorm came up and the lightning began to “go for” my + house, as the historian Josephus quaintly phrases it. It cleared the + galleries, so to speak. In five minutes there was not a spectator within + half a mile of my place; but all the high houses about that distance away + were full, windows, roof, and all. And well they might be, for all the + falling stars and Fourth-of-July fireworks of a generation, put together + and rained down simultaneously out of heaven in one brilliant shower upon + one helpless roof, would not have any advantage of the pyrotechnic display + that was making my house so magnificently conspicuous in the general gloom + of the storm. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p026.jpg (86K)" src="images/p026.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + By actual count, the lightning struck at my establishment seven hundred + and sixty-four times in forty minutes, but tripped on one of those + faithful rods every time, and slid down the spiral-twist and shot into the + earth before it probably had time to be surprised at the way the thing was + done. And through all that bombardment only one patch of slates was ripped + up, and that was because, for a single instant, the rods in the vicinity + were transporting all the lightning they could possibly accommodate. Well, + nothing was ever seen like it since the world began. For one whole day and + night not a member of my family stuck his head out of the window but he + got the hair snatched off it as smooth as a billiard-ball; and; if the + reader will believe me, not one of us ever dreamt of stirring abroad. But + at last the awful siege came to an end-because there was absolutely no + more electricity left in the clouds above us within grappling distance of + my insatiable rods. Then I sallied forth, and gathered daring workmen + together, and not a bite or a nap did we take till the premises were + utterly stripped of all their terrific armament except just three rods on + the house, one on the kitchen, and one on the barn—and, behold, + these remain there even unto this day. And then, and not till then, the + people ventured to use our street again. I will remark here, in passing, + that during that fearful time I did not continue my essay upon political + economy. I am not even yet settled enough in nerve and brain to resume it. + </p> + <p> + TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.—Parties having need of three thousand two + hundred and eleven feet of best quality zinc-plated spiral-twist + lightning-rod stuff, and sixteen hundred and thirty-one silver-tipped + points, all in tolerable repair (and, although much worn by use, still + equal to any ordinary emergency), can hear of a bargain by addressing the + publisher. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="frog" id="frog"></a>THE JUMPING FROG + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p028.jpg (125K)" src="images/p028.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + IN ENGLISH. THEN IN FRENCH. THEN CLAWED BACK INTO A CIVILIZED LANGUAGE + ONCE MORE BY PATIENT, UNREMUNERATED TOIL. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + Even a criminal is entitled to fair play; and certainly when a man who has + done no harm has been unjustly treated, he is privileged to do his best to + right himself. My attention has just been called to an article some three + years old in a French Magazine entitled, ‘Revue des Deux Mondes’ + (Review of Some Two Worlds), wherein the writer treats of “Les + Humoristes Americaines” (These Humorist Americans). I am one of + these humorist American dissected by him, and hence the complaint I am + making. + </p> + <p> + This gentleman’s article is an able one (as articles go, in the + French, where they always tangle up everything to that degree that when + you start into a sentence you never know whether you are going to come out + alive or not). It is a very good article and the writer says all manner of + kind and complimentary things about me—for which I am sure I thank + him with all my heart; but then why should he go and spoil all his praise + by one unlucky experiment? What I refer to is this: he says my Jumping + Frog is a funny story, but still he can’t see why it should ever + really convulse any one with laughter—and straightway proceeds to + translate it into French in order to prove to his nation that there is + nothing so very extravagantly funny about it. Just there is where my + complaint originates. He has not translated it at all; he has simply mixed + it all up; it is no more like the Jumping Frog when he gets through with + it than I am like a meridian of longitude. But my mere assertion is not + proof; wherefore I print the French version, that all may see that I do + not speak falsely; furthermore, in order that even the unlettered may know + my injury and give me their compassion, I have been at infinite pains and + trouble to retranslate this French version back into English; and to tell + the truth I have well-nigh worn myself out at it, having scarcely rested + from my work during five days and nights. I cannot speak the French + language, but I can translate very well, though not fast, I being + self-educated. I ask the reader to run his eye over the original English + version of the jumping Frog, and then read the French or my retranslation, + and kindly take notice how the Frenchman has riddled the grammar. I think + it is the worst I ever saw; and yet the French are called a polished + nation. If I had a boy that put sentences together as they do, I would + polish him to some purpose. Without further introduction, the Jumping + Frog, as I originally wrote it, was as follows [after it will be found the + French version—, and after the latter my retranslation from the + French] + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE NOTORIOUS JUMPING FROG OF CALAVERAS COUNTY<br /> [Pronounced + Cal-e-va-ras] + </h3> + <p> + In compliance with the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the + East, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired + after my friend’s friend, Leonidas W. Smiley, as requested to do, + and I hereunto append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas + W. Smiley is a myth that my friend never knew such a personage; and that + he only conjectured that if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would remind + him of his infamous Jim Smiley, and he would go to work and bore me to + death with some exasperating reminiscence of him as long and as tedious as + it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it succeeded. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p030.jpg (44K)" src="images/p030.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of the + dilapidated tavern in the decayed mining camp of Angel’s, and I + noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression of winning + gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up, and + gave me good day. I told him that a friend of mine had commissioned me to + make some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named + Leonidas W. Smiley—Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, a young minister of the + Gospel, who he had heard was at one time resident of Angel’s Camp. I + added that if Mr. Wheeler could tell me anything about this Rev. Leonidas + W. Smiley, I would feel under many obligations to him. + </p> + <p> + Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his + chair, and then sat down and reeled off the monotonous narrative which + follows this paragraph. He never smiled, he never frowned, he never + changed his voice from the gentle flowing key to which he tuned his + initial sentence, he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm; + but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein of impressive + earnestness and sincerity, which showed me plainly that, so far from his + imagining that there was anything ridiculous or funny about his story, he + regarded it as a really important matter, and admired its two heroes as + men of transcendent genius in ‘finesse.’ I let him go on in + his own way, and never interrupted him once. + </p> + <p> + “Rev. Leonidas W. H’m, Reverend Le—well, there was a + feller here, once by the name of Jim Smiley, in the winter of ‘49—or + maybe it was the spring of ‘50—I don’t recollect + exactly, somehow, though what makes me think it was one or the other is + because I remember the big flume warn’t finished when he first come + to the camp; but anyway, he was the curiousest man about always betting on + anything that turned up you ever see, if he could get anybody to bet on + the other side; and if he couldn’t he’d change sides. Any way + that suited the other man would suit him any way just so’s he got a + bet, he was satisfied. But still he was lucky, uncommon lucky; he most + always come out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance; there + couldn’t be no solit’ry thing mentioned but that feller’d + offer to bet on it, and take any side you please, as I was just telling + you. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p031.jpg (27K)" src="images/p031.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + If there was a horse-race, you’d find him flush or you’d find + him busted at the end of it; if there was a dog-fight, he’d bet on + it; if there was a cat-fight, he’d bet on it; if there was a + chicken-fight, he’d bet on it; why, if there was two birds setting + on a fence, he would bet you which one would fly first; or if there was a + camp-meeting, he would be there reg’lar to bet on Parson Walker, + which he judged to be the best exhorter about here, and so he was too, and + a good man. If he even see a straddle-bug start to go anywheres, he would + bet you how long it would take him to get to—to wherever he was + going to, and if you took him up, he would foller that straddle-bug to + Mexico but what he would find out where he was bound for and how long he + was on the road. Lots of the boys here has seen that Smiley, and can tell + you about him. Why, it never made no difference to him—he’d + bet on any thing—the dangdest feller. Parson Walker’s wife + laid very sick once, for a good while, and it seemed as if they warn’t + going to save her; but one morning he come in, and Smiley up and asked him + how she was, and he said she was considerable better—thank the Lord + for his inf’nite mercy—and coming on so smart that with the + blessing of Prov’dence she’d get well yet; and Smiley, before + he thought, says, ‘Well, I’ll resk two-and-a-half she don’t + anyway.’ + </p> + <p> + “Thish-yer Smiley had a mare—the boys called her the + fifteen-minute nag, but that was only in fun, you know, because of course + she was faster than that—and he used to win money on that horse, for + all she was so slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper, or the + consumption, or something of that kind. They used to give her two or three + hundred yards’ start, and then pass her under way; but always at the + fag end of the race she get excited and desperate like, and come cavorting + and straddling up, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the + air, and sometimes out to one side among the fences, and kicking up + m-o-r-e dust and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing and + blowing her nose—and always fetch up at the stand just about a neck + ahead, as near as you could cipher it down. + </p> + <p> + “And he had a little small bull-pup, that to look at him you’d + think he warn’t worth a cent but to set around and look ornery and + lay for a chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up on him he + was a different dog; his under-jaw’d begin to stick out like the fo’castle + of a steamboat, and his teeth would uncover and shine like the furnaces. + And a dog might tackle him and bully-rag him, and bite him, and throw him + over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew Jackson—which was + the name of the pup—Andrew Jackson would never let on but what he + was satisfied, and hadn’t expected nothing else—and the bets + being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time, till the money + was all up; and then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog jest by + the j’int of his hind leg and freeze to it—not chaw, you + understand, but only just grip and hang on till they throwed up the + sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winner on that pup, till + he harnessed a dog once that didn’t have no hind legs, because they’d + been sawed off in a circular saw, and when the thing had gone along far + enough, and the money was all up, and he come to make a snatch for his pet + holt, he see in a minute how he’d been imposed on, and how the other + dog had him in the door, so to speak, and he ’peared surprised, and + then he looked sorter discouraged-like and didn’t try no more to win + the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He give Smiley a look, as much + as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault, for putting up a dog + that hadn’t no hind legs for him to take holt of, which was his main + dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and + died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson, and would have made a + name for hisself if he’d lived, for the stuff was in him and he had + genius—I know it, because he hadn’t no opportunities to speak + of, and it don’t stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight + as he could under them circumstances if he hadn’t no talent. It + always makes me feel sorry when I think of that last fight of his’n, + and the way it turned out. + </p> + <p> + “Well, thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, and chicken cocks, and + tomcats and all them kind of things, till you couldn’t rest, and you + couldn’t fetch nothing for him to bet on but he’d match you. + He ketched a frog one day, and took him home, and said he cal’lated + to educate him; and so he never done nothing for three months but set in + his back yard and learn that frog to jump. And you bet you he did learn + him, too. He’d give him a little punch behind, and the next minute + you’d see that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut—see + him turn one summerset, or maybe a couple, if he got a good start, and + come down flat-footed and all right, like a cat. He got him up so in the + matter of ketching flies, and kep’ him in practice so constant, that + he’d nail a fly every time as fur as he could see him. Smiley said + all a frog wanted was education, and he could do ’most anything—and + I believe him. Why, I’ve seen him set Dan’l Webster down here + on this floor—Dan’l Webster was the name of the frog—and + sing out, ‘Flies, Dan’l, flies!’ and quicker’n you + could wink he’d spring straight up and snake a fly off’n the + counter there, and flop down on the floor ag’in as solid as a gob of + mud, and fall to scratching the side of his head with his hind foot as + indifferent as if he hadn’t no idea he’d been doin’ any + more’n any frog might do. You never see a frog so modest and + straightfor’ard as he was, for all he was so gifted. And when it + come to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he could get over more + ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see. Jumping + on a dead level was his strong suit, you understand; and when it come to + that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley + was monstrous proud of his frog, and well he might be, for fellers that + had traveled and been everywheres all said he laid over any frog that ever + they see. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p033.jpg (37K)" src="images/p033.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “Well, Smiley kep’ the beast in a little lattice box, and he + used to fetch him down-town sometimes and lay for a bet. One day a feller—a + stranger in the camp, he was—come acrost him with his box, and says: + </p> + <p> + “‘What might it be that you’ve got in the box?’ + </p> + <p> + “And Smiley says, sorter indifferent-like, ‘It might be a + parrot, or it might be a canary, maybe, but it ain’t—it’s + only just a frog.’ + </p> + <p> + “And the feller took it, and looked at it careful, and turned it + round this way and that, and says, ‘H’m—so ’tis. + Well, what’s HE good for. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well,’ Smiley says, easy and careless, ‘he’s + good enough for one thing, I should judge—he can outjump any frog in + Calaveras County. + </p> + <p> + “The feller took the box again, and took another long, particular + look, and give it back to Smiley, and says, very deliberate, ‘Well,’ + he says, ‘I don’t see no p’ints about that frog that’s + any better’n any other frog.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Maybe you don’t,’ Smiley says. ‘Maybe you + understand frogs and maybe you don’t understand ’em; maybe you’ve + had experience, and maybe you ain’t only a amature, as it were. + Anyways, I’ve got my opinion, and I’ll resk forty dollars thet + he can outjump any frog in Calaveras County.’ + </p> + <p> + “And the feller studied a minute, and then says, kinder sad-like, + ‘Well, I’m only a stranger here, and I ain’t got no + frog; but if I had a frog, I’d bet you. + </p> + <p> + “And then Smiley says, ‘That’s all right—that’s + all right if you’ll hold my box a minute, I’ll go and get you + a frog.’ And so the feller took the box, and put up his forty + dollars along with Smiley’s, and set down to wait. + </p> + <p> + “So he set there a good while thinking and thinking to himself and + then he got the frog out and prized his mouth open and took a teaspoon and + filled him full of quail-shot—filled him pretty near up to his chin—and + set him on the floor. Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in + the mud for a long time, and finally he ketched a frog, and fetched him + in, and give him to this feller and says: + </p> + <p> + “‘Now, if you’re ready, set him alongside of Dan’l, + with his fore paws just even with Dan’l’s, and I’ll give + the word.’ Then he says, One-two-three—git’ and him and + the feller touches up the frogs from behind, and the new frog hopped off + lively but Dan’l give a heave, and hysted up his shoulders—so—like + a Frenchman, but it warn’t no use—he couldn’t budge; he + was planted as solid as a church, and he couldn’t no more stir than + if he was anchored out. Smiley was a good deal surprised, and he was + disgusted too, but he didn’t have no idea what the matter was of + course. + </p> + <p> + “The feller took the money and started away; and when he was going + out at the door, he sorter jerked his thumb over his shoulder—so—at + Dan’l, and says again, very deliberate, ‘Well,’ he says, + ‘I don’t see no p’ints about that frog that’s any + better’n any other frog.’ + </p> + <p> + “Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Dan’l + a long time, and at last he says, ‘I do wonder what in the nation + that frog throw’d off for—I wonder if there ain’t + something the matter with him—he ’pears to look mighty baggy, + somehow.’ And he ketched Dan’l by the nap of the neck, and + hefted him, and says, ‘Why blame my cats if he don’t weigh + five pound!’ and turned him upside down and he belched out a double + handful of shot. And then he see how it was, and he was the maddest man—he + set the frog down and took out after that feller, but he never ketched + him. And—” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p035.jpg (39K)" src="images/p035.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + [Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard, and got up + to see what was wanted.] And turning to me as he moved away, he said: + “Just set where you are, stranger, and rest easy—I ain’t + going to be gone a second.” + </p> + <p> + But, by your leave, I did not think that a continuation of the history of + the enterprising vagabond Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much + information concerning the Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and so I started away. + </p> + <p> + At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning, and he buttonholed me + and recommenced: + </p> + <p> + “Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yaller one-eyed cow that didn’t + have no tail, only just a short stump like a bannanner, and—” + </p> + <p> + However, lacking both time and inclination, I did not wait to hear about + the afflicted cow, but took my leave. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Now let the learned look upon this picture and say if iconoclasm can + further go: + </p> + <p> + [From the Revue des Deux Mondes, of July 15th, 1872.] + </p> + <p> + <br /> .......................<br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE JUMPING FROG + </h3> + <p> + [From the Revue des Deux Mondes, of July 15th, 1872.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +....................... + +</pre> + <p> + LA GRENOUILLE SAUTEUSE DU COMTE DE CALAVERAS + </p> + <p> + “—Il y avait, une fois ici un individu connu sous le nom de + Jim Smiley: c'était dans l’hiver de 49, peut-être + bien au printemps de 50, je ne me reappelle pas exactement. Ce qui me fait + croire que c'était l’un ou l’autre, c’est + que je me souviens que le grand bief n'était pas achevé + lorsqu’il arriva au camp pour la premiére fois, mais de + toutes facons il était l’homme le plus friand de paris qui se + pût voir, pariant sur tout ce qui se présentait, quand il + pouvait trouver un adversaire, et, quand n’en trouvait pas il + passait du côté opposé. Tout ce qui convenait à + l’autre lui convenait; pourvu qu’il eût un pari, Smiley + était satisfait. Et il avait une chance! une chance inouie: presque + toujours il gagnait. It faut dire qu’il était toujours prêt + à s’exposer, qu’on ne pouvait mentionner la moindre + chose sans que ce gaillard offrît de parier là-dessus n’importe + quoi et de prendre le côte que l’on voudrait, comme je vous le + disais tout à l’heure. S’il y avait des courses, vous + le trouviez riche ou ruiné à la fin; s’il y avait un + combat de chiens, il apportait son enjeu; il l’apportait pour un + combat de chats, pour un combat de coqs;—parbleu! si vous aviez vu + deux oiseaux sur une haie il vous aurait offert de parier lequel s’envolerait + le premier, et s’il y aviat ‘meeting’ au camp, il venait + parier régulièrement pour le curé Walker, qu’il + jugeait être le meilleur prédicateur des environs, et qui l'était + en effet, et un brave homme. Il aurait rencontré une punaise de + bois en chemin, qu’il aurait parié sur le temps qu’il + lui faudrait pour aller où elle voudrait aller, et si vous l’aviez + pris au mot, it aurait suivi la punaise jusqu’au Mexique, sans se + soucier d’aller si loin, ni du temps qu’il y perdrait. Une + fois la femme du curé Walker fut très malade pendant + longtemps, il semblait qu’on ne la sauverait pas; mais un matin le + curé arrive, et Smiley lui demande comment ella va et il dit qu’elle + est bien mieux, grâce a l’infinie miséricorde tellement + mieux qu’avec la bénédiction de la Providence elle s’en + tirerait, et voilá que, sans y penser, Smiley répond:—Eh + bien! je gage deux et demi qu’elle mourra tout de même. + </p> + <p> + “Ce Smiley avait une jument que les gars appelaient le bidet du + quart d’heure, mais seulement pour plaisanter, vous comprenez, parce + que, bien entendu, elle était plus vite que ca! Et il avait coutume + de gagner de l’argent avec cette bête, quoi-qu’elle fût + poussive, cornarde, toujours prise d’asthme, de coliques ou de + consomption, ou de quelque chose d’approchant. On lui donnait 2 ou + 300 ‘yards’ au départ, puis on la dépassait sans + peine; mais jamais à la fin elle ne manquait de s'échauffer, + de s’exaspérer et elle arrivait, s'écartant, se + défendant, ses jambes grêles en l’air devant les + obstacles, quelquefois les évitant et faisant avec cela plus de + poussière qu’aucun cheval, plus de bruit surtout avec ses + éternumens et reniflemens.—-crac! elle arrivait donc toujours + première d’une tête, aussi juste qu’on peut le + mesurer. Et il avait un petit bouledogue qui, à le voir, ne valait + pas un sou; on aurait cru que parier contre lui c'était + voler, tant il était ordinaire; mais aussitôt les enjeux + faits, il devenait un autre chien. Sa mâchoire inférieure + commencait à ressortir comme un gaillard d’avant, ses dents + se découvcraient brillantes commes des fournaises, et un chien + pouvait le taquiner, l’exciter, le mordre, le jeter deux ou trois + fois par-dessus son épaule, André Jackson, c'était + le nom du chien, André Jackson prenait cela tranquillement, comme s’il + ne se fût jamais attendu à autre chose, et quand les paris + étaient doublés et redoublés contre lui, il vous + saisissait l’autre chien juste à l’articulation de la + jambe de derrière, et il ne la lâchait plus, non pas qu’il + la mâchât, vous concevez, mais il s’y serait tenu pendu + jusqu'à ce qu’on jetât l'éponge en l’air, + fallût-il attendre un an. Smiley gagnait toujours avec cette bête-là; + malheureusement ils ont fini par dresser un chien qui n’avait pas de + pattes de derrière, parce qu’on les avait sciées, et + quand les choses furent au point qu’il voulait, et qu’il en + vint à se jeter sur son morceau favori, le pauvre chien comprit en + un instant qu’on s'était moqué de lui, et que l’autre + le tenait. Vous n’avez jamais vu personne avoir l’air plus + penaud et plus découragé; il ne fit aucun effort pour gagner + le combat et fut rudement secoué, de sorte que, regardant Smiley + comme pour lui dire:—Mon coeur est brisé, c’est ta + faute; pourquoi m’avoir livré à un chien qui n’a + pas de pattes de derrière, puisque c’est par là que je + les bats?—il s’en alla en clopinant, et se coucha pour mourir. + Ah! c'était un bon chien, cet André Jackson, et il se + serait fait un nom, s’il avait vécu, car il y avait de l’etoffe + en lui, il avait du génie, je la sais, bien que de grandes + occasions lui aient manqué; mais il est impossible de supposer qu’un + chien capable de se battre comme lui, certaines circonstances étant + données, ait manqué de talent. Je me sens triste toutes les + fois que je pense à son dernier combat et au dénoûment + qu’il a eu. Eh bien! ce Smiley nourrissait des terriers à + rats, et des coqs combat, et des chats, et toute sorte de choses, au point + qu’il était toujours en mesure de vous tenir tête, et + qu’avec sa rage de paris on n’avait plus de repos. Il attrapa + un jour une grenouille et l’emporta chez lui, disant qu’il prétendait + faire son éducation; vous me croirez si vous voulez, mais pendant + trois mois il n’a rien fait que lui apprendre à sauter dans + une cour retirée de sa maison. Et je vous réponds qu’il + avait reussi. Il lui donnait un petit coup par derrière, et l’instant + d’après vous voyiez la grenouille tourner en l’air + comme un beignet au-dessus de la poêle, faire une culbute, + quelquefois deux, lorsqu’elle était bien partie, et retomber + sur ses pattes comme un chat. Il l’avait dressée dans l’art + de gober des mouches, er l’y exercait continuellement, si bien qu’une + mouche, du plus loin qu’elle apparaissait, était une mouche + perdue. Smiley avait coutume de dire que tout ce qui manquait à une + grenouille, c'était l'éducation, qu’avec l'éducation + elle pouvait faire presque tout, et je le crois. Tenez, je l’ai vu + poser Daniel Webster là sur se plancher,—Daniel Webster + était le nom de la grenouille,—et lui chanter: Des mouches! + Daniel, des mouches!—En un clin d’oeil, Daniel avait bondi et + saisi une mouche ici sur le comptoir, puis sauté de nouveau par + terre, où il restait vraiment à se gratter la tête + avec sa patte de derrière, comme s’il n’avait pas eu la + moindre idée de sa superiorité. Jamais vous n’avez + grenouille vu de aussi modeste, aussi naturelle, douee comme elle l'était! + Et quand il s’agissait de sauter purement et simplement sur terrain + plat, elle faisait plus de chemin en un saut qu’aucune bete de son + espèce que vous puissiez connaître. Sauter à plat, c'était + son fort! Quand il s’agissait de cela, Smiley entassait les enjeux + sur elle tant qu’il lui, restait un rouge liard. Il faut le + reconnaitre, Smiley était monstrueusement fier de sa grenouille, et + il en avait le droit, car des gens qui avaient voyagé, qui avaient + tout vu, disaient qu’on lui ferait injure de la comparer à + une autre; de facon que Smiley gardait Daniel dans une petite boîte + a claire-voie qu’il emportait parfois à la Ville pour quelque + pari. + </p> + <p> + “Un jour, un individu étranger au camp l’arrête + aver sa boîte et lui dit:—Qu’est-ce que vous avez donc + serré là dedans? + </p> + <p> + “Smiley dit d’un air indifférent:—Cela pourrait + être un perroquet ou un serin, mais ce n’est rien de pareil, + ce n’est qu’une grenouille. + </p> + <p> + “L’individu la prend, la regarde avec soin, la tourne d’un + côté et de l’autre puis il dit.—Tiens! en effet! + A quoi estelle bonne? + </p> + <p> + “—Mon Dieu! répond Smiley, toujours d’un air dégagé, + elle est bonne pour une chose à mon avis, elle peut battre en + sautant toute grenouille du comté de Calaveras. + </p> + <p> + “L’individu reprend la boîte, l’examine de nouveau + longuement, et la rend à Smiley en disant d’un air délibéré:—Eh + bien! je ne vois pas que cette grenouille ait rien de mieux qu’aucune + grenouille. + </p> + <p> + “—Possible que vous ne le voyiez pas, dit Smiley, possible que + vous vous entendiez en grenouilles, possible que vous ne vous y entendez + point, possible que vous avez de l’expérience, et possible + que vous ne soyez qu’un amateur. De toute manière, je parie + quarante dollars qu’elle battra en sautant n’importe quelle + grenouille du comté de Calaveras. + </p> + <p> + “L’individu réfléchit une seconde et dit comme + attristé:—Je ne suis qu’un étranger ici, je n’ai + pas de grenouille; mais, si j’en avais une, je tiendrais le pari. + </p> + <p> + “—Fort bien! répond Smiley. Rien de plus facile. Si + vous voulez tenir ma boîte une minute, j’irai vous chercher + une grenouille.—Voilà donc l’individu qui garde la boîte, + qui met ses quarante dollars sur ceux de Smiley et qui attend. Il attend + assez longtemps, réflechissant tout seul, et figurez-vous qu’il + prend Daniel, lui ouvre la bouche de force at avec une cuiller à thé + l’emplit de menu plomb de chasse, mais l’emplit jusqu’au + menton, puis il le pose par terre. Smiley pendant ce temps était + à barboter dans une mare. Finalement il attrape une grenouille, l’apporte + à cet individu et dit:—Maintenant, si vous êtes prêt, + mettez-la tout contra Daniel, avec leurs pattes de devant sur la même + ligne, et je donnerai le signal; puis il ajoute:—Un, deux, trois, + sautez! + </p> + <p> + “Lui et l’individu touchent leurs grenouilles par derrière, + et la grenouille neuve se met à sautiller, mais Daniel se soulève + lourdement, hausse les épaules ainsi, comme un Francais; à + quoi bon? il ne pouvait bouger, il était planté solide comma + une enclume, il n’avancait pas plus que si on l’eût mis + à l’ancre. Smiley fut surpris et dégoûté, + mais il ne se doutait pas du tour, bien entendu. L’individu empoche + l’argent, s’en va, et en s’en allant est-ce qu’il + ne donna pas un coup de pouce par-dessus l'épaule, comma ca, + au pauvre Daniel, en disant de son air délibéré:—Eh + bien! je ne vois pas qua cette grenouille ait rien de muiex qu’une + autre. + </p> + <p> + “Smiley se gratta longtemps la tête, les yeux fixés sur + Daniel; jusqu'à ce qu’enfin il dit:—Je me demande + comment diable il se fait que cette bête ait refusé . . . + Est-ce qu’elle aurait quelque chose? . . . On croirait qu’elle + est enfleé. + </p> + <p> + “Il empoigne Daniel par la peau du cou, le souléve et dit:—Le + loup me croque, s’il ne pèse pas cinq livres. + </p> + <p> + “Il le retourne, et le malheureux crache deux poignées de + plomb. Quand Smiley reconnut ce qui en était, il fut comme fou. + Vous le voyez d’ici poser sa grenouille par terra et courir aprés + cet individu, mais il ne le rattrapa jamais, et ....” + </p> + <p> + [Translation of the above back from the French:] + </p> + <p> + THE FROG JUMPING OF THE COUNTY OF CALAVERAS + </p> + <p> + It there was one time here an individual known under the name of Jim + Smiley; it was in the winter of ‘89, possibly well at the spring of + ‘50, I no me recollect not exactly. This which me makes to believe + that it was the one or the other, it is that I shall remember that the + grand flume is not achieved when he arrives at the camp for the first + time, but of all sides he was the man the most fond of to bet which one + have seen, betting upon all that which is presented, when he could find an + adversary; and when he not of it could not, he passed to the side opposed. + All that which convenienced to the other to him convenienced also; seeing + that he had a bet Smiley was satisfied. And he had a chance! a chance even + worthless; nearly always he gained. It must to say that he was always near + to himself expose, but one no could mention the least thing without that + this gaillard offered to bet the bottom, no matter what, and to take the + side that one him would, as I you it said all at the hour (tout à l’heure). + If it there was of races, you him find rich or ruined at the end; if it, + there is a combat of dogs, he bring his bet; he himself laid always for a + combat of cats, for a combat of cocks —by-blue! If you have see two + birds upon a fence, he you should have offered of to bet which of those + birds shall fly the first; and if there is meeting at the camp (meeting au + camp) he comes to bet regularly for the curé Walker, which he + judged to be the best predicator of the neighborhood (prédicateur + des environs) and which he was in effect, and a brave man. He would + encounter a bug of wood in the road, whom he will bet upon the time which + he shall take to go where she would go—and if you him have take at + the word, he will follow the bug as far as Mexique, without himself caring + to go so far; neither of the time which he there lost. One time the woman + of the cure Walker is very sick during long time, it seemed that one not + her saved not; but one morning the cure arrives, and Smiley him demanded + how she goes, and he said that she is well better, grace to the infinite + misery (lui demande comment elle va, et il dit qu’elle est bien + mieux, grâce a l’infinie miséricorde) so much better + that with the benediction of the Providence she herself of it would pull + out (elle s’en tirerait); and behold that without there thinking + Smiley responds: “Well, I gage two-and-half that she will die all of + same.” + </p> + <p> + This Smiley had an animal which the boys called the nag of the quarter of + hour, but solely for pleasantry, you comprehend, because, well understand, + she was more fast as that! [Now why that exclamation?—M. T.] And it + was custom of to gain of the silver with this beast, notwithstanding she + was poussive, cornarde, always taken of asthma, of colics or of + consumption, or something of approaching. One him would give two or three + hundred yards at the departure, then one him passed without pain; but + never at the last she not fail of herself échauffer, of herself + exasperate, and she arrives herself écartant, se defendant, her + legs greles in the air before the obstacles, sometimes them elevating and + making with this more of dust than any horse, more of noise above with his + eternumens and reniflemens—crac! she arrives then always first by + one head, as just as one can it measure. And he had a small bulldog + (bouledogue!) who, to him see, no value, not a cent; one would believe + that to bet against him it was to steal, so much he was ordinary; but as + soon as the game made, she becomes another dog. Her jaw inferior commence + to project like a deck of before, his teeth themselves discover brilliant + like some furnaces, and a dog could him tackle (le taquiner), him excite, + him murder (le mordre), him throw two or three times over his shoulder, + André Jackson—this was the name of the dog—André + Jackson takes that tranquilly, as if he not himself was never expecting + other thing, and when the bets were doubled and redoubled against him, he + you seize the other dog just at the articulation of the leg of behind, and + he not it leave more, not that he it masticate, you conceive, but he + himself there shall be holding during until that one throws the sponge in + the air, must he wait a year. Smiley gained always with this beast-là; + unhappily they have finished by elevating a dog who no had not of feet of + behind, because one them had sawed; and when things were at the point that + he would, and that he came to himself throw upon his morsel favorite, the + poor dog comprehended in an instant that he himself was deceived in him, + and that the other dog him had. You no have never seen person having the + air more penaud and more discouraged; he not made no effort to gain the + combat, and was rudely shucked. + </p> + <p> + Eh bien! this Smiley nourished some terriers à rats, and some cocks + of combat, and some cats, and all sorts of things; and with his rage of + betting one no had more of repose. He trapped one day a frog and him + imported with him (et l’emporta chez lui) saying that he pretended + to make his education. You me believe if you will, but during three months + he not has nothing done but to him apprehend to jump (apprendre à + sauter) in a court retired of her mansion (de sa maison). And I you + respond that he have succeeded. He him gives a small blow by behind, and + the instant after you shall see the frog turn in the air like a + grease-biscuit, make one summersault, sometimes two, when she was well + started, and refall upon his feet like a cat. He him had accomplished in + the art of to gobble the flies (gober des mouches), and him there + exercised continually —so well that a fly at the most far that she + appeared was a fly lost. Smiley had custom to say that all which lacked to + a frog it was the education, but with the education she could do nearly + all—and I him believe. Tenez, I him have seen pose Daniel Webster + there upon this plank—Daniel Webster was the name of the frog—and + to him sing, “Some flies, Daniel, some flies!”—in a + flash of the eye Daniel had bounded and seized a fly here upon the + counter, then jumped anew at the earth, where he rested truly to himself + scratch the head with his behind foot, as if he no had not the least idea + of his superiority. Never you not have seen frog as modest, as natural, + sweet as she was. And when he himself agitated to jump purely and simply + upon plain earth, she does more ground in one jump than any beast of his + species than you can know. To jump plain-this was his strong. When he + himself agitated for that, Smiley multiplied the bets upon her as long as + there to him remained a red. It must to know, Smiley was monstrously proud + of his frog, and he of it was right, for some men who were traveled, who + had all seen, said that they to him would be injurious to him compare, to + another frog. Smiley guarded Daniel in a little box latticed which he + carried bytimes to the village for some bet. + </p> + <p> + One day an individual stranger at the camp him arrested with his box and + him said: + </p> + <p> + “What is this that you have them shut up there within?” + </p> + <p> + Smiley said, with an air indifferent: + </p> + <p> + “That could be a paroquet, or a syringe (ou un serin), but this no + is nothing of such, it not is but a frog.” + </p> + <p> + The individual it took, it regarded with care, it turned from one side and + from the other, then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Tiens! in effect!—At what is she good?” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” respond Smiley, always with an air disengaged, + “she is good for one thing, to my notice (à mon avis), she + can batter in jumping (elle peut battre en sautant) all frogs of the + county of Calaveras.” + </p> + <p> + The individual retook the box, it examined of new longly, and it rendered + to Smiley in saying with an air deliberate: + </p> + <p> + “Eh bien! I no saw not that that frog had nothing of better than + each frog.” (Je ne vois pas que cette grenouille ait rien de mieux + qu’aucune grenouille.) [If that isn’t grammar gone to seed, + then I count myself no judge.—M. T.] + </p> + <p> + “Possible that you not it saw not,” said Smiley, “possible + that you—you comprehend frogs; possible that you not you there + comprehend nothing; possible that you had of the experience, and possible + that you not be but an amateur. Of all manner (De toute manière) I + bet forty dollars that she batter in jumping no matter which frog of the + county of Calaveras.” + </p> + <p> + The individual reflected a second, and said like sad: + </p> + <p> + “I not am but a stranger here, I no have not a frog; but if I of it + had one, I would embrace the bet.” + </p> + <p> + “Strong well!” respond Smiley; “nothing of more + facility. If you will hold my box a minute, I go you to search a frog (j’irai + vous chercher).” + </p> + <p> + Behold, then, the individual, who guards the box, who puts his forty + dollars upon those of Smiley, and who attends (et qui attend). He attended + enough long times, reflecting all solely. And figure you that he takes + Daniel, him opens the mouth by force and with a teaspoon him fills with + shot of the hunt, even him fills just to the chin, then he him puts by the + earth. Smiley during these times was at slopping in a swamp. Finally he + trapped (attrape) a frog, him carried to that individual, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Now if you be ready, put him all against Daniel with their before + feet upon the same line, and I give the signal”—then he added: + “One, two, three—advance!” + </p> + <p> + Him and the individual touched their frogs by behind, and the frog new put + to jump smartly, but Daniel himself lifted ponderously, exalted the + shoulders thus, like a Frenchman—to what good? he not could budge, + he is planted solid like a church, he not advance no more than if one him + had put at the anchor. + </p> + <p> + Smiley was surprised and disgusted, but he no himself doubted not of the + turn being intended (mais il ne se doutait pas du tour, bien entendu). The + individual empocketed the silver, himself with it went, and of it himself + in going is it that he no gives not a jerk of thumb over the shoulder—like + that—at the poor Daniel, in saying with his air deliberate—(L’individu + empoche l’argent, s’en va et en s’en allant est-ce qu’il + ne donne pas un coup de pouce par-dessus l'épaule, comme + ça, au pauvre Daniel, en disant de son air délibéré): + </p> + <p> + “Eh bien! I no see not that that frog has nothing of better than + another.” + </p> + <p> + Smiley himself scratched longtimes the head, the eyes fixed upon Daniel, + until that which at last he said: + </p> + <p> + “I me demand how the devil it makes itself that this beast has + refused. Is it that she had something? One would believe that she is + stuffed.” + </p> + <p> + He grasped Daniel by the skin of the neck, him lifted and said: + </p> + <p> + “The wolf me bite if he no weigh not five pounds:” + </p> + <p> + He him reversed and the unhappy belched two handfuls of shot (et le + malheureux, etc.). When Smiley recognized how it was, he was like mad. He + deposited his frog by the earth and ran after that individual, but he not + him caught never. + </p> + <p> + Such is the Jumping Frog, to the distorted French eye. I claim that I + never put together such an odious mixture of bad grammar and delirium + tremens in my life. And what has a poor foreigner like me done, to be + abused and misrepresented like this? When I say, “Well, I don’t + see no p’ints about that frog that’s any better’n any + other frog,” is it kind, is it just, for this Frenchman to try to + make it appear that I said, “Eh bien! I no saw not that that frog + had nothing of better than each frog”? I have no heart to write + more. I never felt so about anything before. + </p> + <p> + HARTFORD, March, 1875. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="journalism" id="journalism"></a>JOURNALISM IN TENNESSEE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1871] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p044.jpg (134K)" src="images/p044.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> The editor of the Memphis Avalanche swoops thus mildly down upon a + correspondent who posted him as a Radical:—“While he was + writing the first word, the middle, dotting his i’s, crossing his + t’s, and punching his period, he knew he was concocting a sentence + that was saturated with infamy and reeking with falsehood.”—Exchange. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I was told by the physician that a Southern climate would improve my + health, and so I went down to Tennessee, and got a berth on the Morning + Glory and Johnson County War-Whoop as associate editor. When I went on + duty I found the chief editor sitting tilted back in a three-legged chair + with his feet on a pine table. There was another pine table in the room + and another afflicted chair, and both were half buried under newspapers + and scraps and sheets of manuscript. There was a wooden box of sand, + sprinkled with cigar stubs and “old soldiers,” and a stove + with a door hanging by its upper hinge. The chief editor had a long-tailed + black cloth frock-coat on, and white linen pants. His boots were small and + neatly blacked. He wore a ruffled shirt, a large seal-ring, a standing + collar of obsolete pattern, and a checkered neckerchief with the ends + hanging down. Date of costume about 1848. He was smoking a cigar, and + trying to think of a word, and in pawing his hair he had rumpled his locks + a good deal. He was scowling fearfully, and I judged that he was + concocting a particularly knotty editorial. He told me to take the + exchanges and skim through them and write up the “Spirit of the + Tennessee Press,” condensing into the article all of their contents + that seemed of interest. + </p> + <p> + I wrote as follows: + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS + </h3> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> The editors of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake evidently labor under a + misapprehension with regard to the Ballyhack railroad. It is not the + object of the company to leave Buzzardville off to one side. On the + contrary, they consider it one of the most important points along the + line, and consequently can have no desire to slight it. The gentlemen of + the Earthquake will, of course, take pleasure in making the correction.<br /> + <br /> John W. Blossom, Esq., the able editor of the Higginsville + Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom, arrived in the city yesterday. He + is stopping at the Van Buren House.<br /> <br /> We observe that our + contemporary of the Mud Springs Morning Howl has fallen into the error + of supposing that the election of Van Werter is not an established fact, + but he will have discovered his mistake before this reminder reaches + him, no doubt. He was doubtless misled by incomplete election returns.<br /> + <br /> It is pleasant to note that the city of Blathersville is + endeavoring to contract with some New York gentlemen to pave its + well-nigh impassable streets with the Nicholson pavement. The Daily + Hurrah urges the measure with ability, and seems confident of ultimate + success. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I passed my manuscript over to the chief editor for acceptance, + alteration, or destruction. He glanced at it and his face clouded. He ran + his eye down the pages, and his countenance grew portentous. It was easy + to see that something was wrong. Presently he sprang up and said: + </p> + <p> + “Thunder and lightning! Do you suppose I am going to speak of those + cattle that way? Do you suppose my subscribers are going to stand such + gruel as that? Give me the pen!” + </p> + <p> + I never saw a pen scrape and scratch its way so viciously, or plow through + another man’s verbs and adjectives so relentlessly. While he was in + the midst of his work, somebody shot at him through the open window, and + marred the symmetry of my ear. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said he, “that is that scoundrel Smith, of the + Moral Volcano—he was due yesterday.” And he snatched a navy + revolver from his belt and fired—Smith dropped, shot in the thigh. + The shot spoiled Smith’s aim, who was just taking a second chance + and he crippled a stranger. It was me. Merely a finger shot off. + </p> + <p> + Then the chief editor went on with his erasure; and interlineations. Just + as he finished them a hand grenade came down the stove-pipe, and the + explosion shivered the stove into a thousand fragments. However, it did no + further damage, except that a vagrant piece knocked a couple of my teeth + out. + </p> + <p> + “That stove is utterly ruined,” said the chief editor. + </p> + <p> + I said I believed it was. + </p> + <p> + “Well, no matter—don’t want it this kind of weather. I + know the man that did it. I’ll get him. Now, here is the way this + stuff ought to be written.” + </p> + <p> + I took the manuscript. It was scarred with erasures and interlineations + till its mother wouldn’t have known it if it had had one. It now + read as follows: + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS + </h3> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> The inveterate liars of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake are evidently + endeavoring to palm off upon a noble and chivalrous people another of + their vile and brutal falsehoods with regard to that most glorious + conception of the nineteenth century, the Ballyhack railroad. The idea + that Buzzardville was to be left off at one side originated in their own + fulsome brains—or rather in the settlings which they regard as + brains. They had better swallow this lie if they want to save their + abandoned reptile carcasses the cowhiding they so richly deserve.<br /> + <br /> That ass, Blossom, of the Higginsville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry + of Freedom, is down here again sponging at the Van Buren.<br /> <br /> We + observe that the besotted blackguard of the Mud Springs Morning Howl is + giving out, with his usual propensity for lying, that Van Werter is not + elected. The heaven-born mission of journalism is to disseminate truth; + to eradicate error; to educate, refine, and elevate the tone of public + morals and manners, and make all men more gentle, more virtuous, more + charitable, and in all ways better, and holier, and happier; and yet + this blackhearted scoundrel degrades his great office persistently to + the dissemination of falsehood, calumny, vituperation, and vulgarity.<br /> + <br /> Blathersville wants a Nicholson pavement—it wants a jail and + a poorhouse more. The idea of a pavement in a one-horse town composed of + two gin-mills, a blacksmith shop, and that mustard-plaster of a + newspaper, the Daily Hurrah! The crawling insect, Buckner, who edits the + Hurrah, is braying about his business with his customary imbecility, and + imagining that he is talking sense. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “Now that is the way to write—peppery and to the point. + Mush-and-milk journalism gives me the fan-tods.” + </p> + <p> + About this time a brick came through the window with a splintering crash, + and gave me a considerable of a jolt in the back. I moved out of range—I + began to feel in the way. + </p> + <p> + The chief said, “That was the Colonel, likely. I’ve been + expecting him for two days. He will be up now right away.” + </p> + <p> + He was correct. The Colonel appeared in the door a moment afterward with a + dragoon revolver in his hand. + </p> + <p> + He said, “Sir, have I the honor of addressing the poltroon who edits + this mangy sheet?” + </p> + <p> + “You have. Be seated, sir. Be careful of the chair, one of its legs + is gone. I believe I have the honor of addressing the putrid liar, Colonel + Blatherskite Tecumseh?” + </p> + <p> + “Right, Sir. I have a little account to settle with you. If you are + at leisure we will begin.” + </p> + <p> + “I have an article on the ‘Encouraging Progress of Moral and + Intellectual Development in America’ to finish, but there is no + hurry. Begin.” + </p> + <p> + Both pistols rang out their fierce clamor at the same instant. The chief + lost a lock of his hair, and the Colonel’s bullet ended its career + in the fleshy part of my thigh. The Colonel’s left shoulder was + clipped a little. They fired again. Both missed their men this time, but I + got my share, a shot in the arm. At the third fire both gentlemen were + wounded slightly, and I had a knuckle chipped. I then said, I believed I + would go out and take a walk, as this was a private matter, and I had a + delicacy about participating in it further. But both gentlemen begged me + to keep my seat, and assured me that I was not in the way. + </p> + <p> + They then talked about the elections and the crops while they reloaded, + and I fell to tying up my wounds. But presently they opened fire again + with animation, and every shot took effect—but it is proper to + remark that five out of the six fell to my share. The sixth one mortally + wounded the Colonel, who remarked, with fine humor, that he would have to + say good morning now, as he had business uptown. He then inquired the way + to the undertaker’s and left. + </p> + <p> + The chief turned to me and said, “I am expecting company to dinner, + and shall have to get ready. It will be a favor to me if you will read + proof and attend to the customers.” + </p> + <p> + I winced a little at the idea of attending to the customers, but I was too + bewildered by the fusillade that was still ringing in my ears to think of + anything to say. + </p> + <p> + He continued, “Jones will be here at three—cowhide him. + Gillespie will call earlier, perhaps—throw him out of the window. + Ferguson will be along about four—kill him. That is all for today, I + believe. If you have any odd time, you may write a blistering article on + the police—give the chief inspector rats. The cowhides are under the + table; weapons in the drawer—ammunition there in the corner—lint + and bandages up there in the pigeonholes. In case of accident, go to + Lancet, the surgeon, downstairs. He advertises—we take it out in + trade.” + </p> + <p> + He was gone. I shuddered. At the end of the next three hours I had been + through perils so awful that all peace of mind and all cheerfulness were + gone from me. Gillespie had called and thrown me out of the window. Jones + arrived promptly, and when I got ready to do the cowhiding he took the job + off my hands. In an encounter with a stranger, not in the bill of fare, I + had lost my scalp. Another stranger, by the name of Thompson, left me a + mere wreck and ruin of chaotic rags. And at last, at bay in the corner, + and beset by an infuriated mob of editors, blacklegs, politicians, and + desperadoes, who raved and swore and flourished their weapons about my + head till the air shimmered with glancing flashes of steel, I was in the + act of resigning my berth on the paper when the chief arrived, and with + him a rabble of charmed and enthusiastic friends. Then ensued a scene of + riot and carnage such as no human pen, or steel one either, could + describe. People were shot, probed, dismembered, blown up, thrown out of + the window. There was a brief tornado of murky blasphemy, with a confused + and frantic war-dance glimmering through it, and then all was over. In + five minutes there was silence, and the gory chief and I sat alone and + surveyed the sanguinary ruin that strewed the floor around us. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p049.jpg (68K)" src="images/p049.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + He said, “You’ll like this place when you get used to it.” + </p> + <p> + I said, “I’ll have to get you to excuse me; I think maybe I + might write to suit you after a while; as soon as I had had some practice + and learned the language I am confident I could. But, to speak the plain + truth, that sort of energy of expression has its inconveniences, and a man + is liable to interruption. + </p> + <p> + “You see that yourself. Vigorous writing is calculated to elevate + the public, no doubt, but then I do not like to attract so much attention + as it calls forth. I can’t write with comfort when I am interrupted + so much as I have been to-day. I like this berth well enough, but I don’t + like to be left here to wait on the customers. The experiences are novel, + I grant you, and entertaining, too, after a fashion, but they are not + judiciously distributed. A gentleman shoots at you through the window and + cripples me; a bombshell comes down the stove-pipe for your gratification + and sends the stove door down my throat; a friend drops in to swap + compliments with you, and freckles me with bullet-holes till my skin won’t + hold my principles; you go to dinner, and Jones comes with his cowhide, + Gillespie throws me out of the window, Thompson tears all my clothes off, + and an entire stranger takes my scalp with the easy freedom of an old + acquaintance; and in less than five minutes all the blackguards in the + country arrive in their war-paint, and proceed to scare the rest of me to + death with their tomahawks. Take it altogether, I never had such a + spirited time in all my life as I have had to-day. No; I like you, and I + like your calm unruffled way of explaining things to the customers, but + you see I am not used to it. The Southern heart is too impulsive; Southern + hospitality is too lavish with the stranger. The paragraphs which I have + written to-day, and into whose cold sentences your masterly hand has + infused the fervent spirit of Tennesseean journalism, will wake up another + nest of hornets. All that mob of editors will come—and they will + come hungry, too, and want somebody for breakfast. I shall have to bid you + adieu. I decline to be present at these festivities. I came South for my + health, I will go back on the same errand, and suddenly. Tennesseean + journalism is too stirring for me.” + </p> + <p> + After which we parted with mutual regret, and I took apartments at the + hospital. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p050.jpg (64K)" src="images/p050.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="badboy" id="badboy"></a>THE STORY OF THE BAD LITTLE BOY + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p051.jpg (111K)" src="images/p051.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Once there was a bad little boy whose name was Jim—though, if you + will notice, you will find that bad little boys are nearly always called + James in your Sunday-school books. It was strange, but still it was true, + that this one was called Jim. + </p> + <p> + He didn’t have any sick mother, either—a sick mother who was + pious and had the consumption, and would be glad to lie down in the grave + and be at rest but for the strong love she bore her boy, and the anxiety + she felt that the world might be harsh and cold toward him when she was + gone. Most bad boys in the Sunday books are named James, and have sick + mothers, who teach them to say, “Now, I lay me down,” etc., + and sing them to sleep with sweet, plaintive voices, and then kiss them + good night, and kneel down by the bedside and weep. But it was different + with this fellow. He was named Jim, and there wasn’t anything the + matter with his mother—no consumption, nor anything of that kind. + She was rather stout than otherwise, and she was not pious; moreover, she + was not anxious on Jim’s account. She said if he were to break his + neck it wouldn’t be much loss. She always spanked Jim to sleep, and + she never kissed him good night; on the contrary, she boxed his ears when + she was ready to leave him. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p052.jpg (27K)" src="images/p052.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Once this little bad boy stole the key of the pantry, and slipped in there + and helped himself to some jam, and filled up the vessel with tar, so that + his mother would never know the difference; but all at once a terrible + feeling didn’t come over him, and something didn’t seem to + whisper to him, “Is it right to disobey my mother? Isn’t it + sinful to do this? Where do bad little boys go who gobble up their good + kind mother’s jam?” and then he didn’t kneel down all + alone and promise never to be wicked any more, and rise up with a light, + happy heart, and go and tell his mother all about it, and beg her + forgiveness, and be blessed by her with tears of pride and thankfulness in + her eyes. No; that is the way with all other bad boys in the books; but it + happened otherwise with this Jim, strangely enough. He ate that jam, and + said it was bully, in his sinful, vulgar way; and he put in the tar, and + said that was bully also, and laughed, and observed “that the old + woman would get up and snort” when she found it out; and when she + did find it out, he denied knowing anything about it, and she whipped him + severely, and he did the crying himself. Everything about this boy was + curious—everything turned out differently with him from the way it + does to the bad Jameses in the books. + </p> + <p> + Once he climbed up in Farmer Acorn’s apple tree to steal apples, and + the limb didn’t break, and he didn’t fall and break his arm, + and get torn by the farmer’s great dog, and then languish on a + sickbed for weeks, and repent and become good. Oh, no; he stole as many + apples as he wanted and came down all right; and he was all ready for the + dog, too, and knocked him endways with a brick when he came to tear him. + It was very strange—nothing like it ever happened in those mild + little books with marbled backs, and with pictures in them of men with + swallow-tailed coats and bell-crowned hats, and pantaloons that are short + in the legs, and women with the waists of their dresses under their arms, + and no hoops on. Nothing like it in any of the Sunday-school books. + </p> + <p> + Once he stole the teacher’s penknife, and, when he was afraid it + would be found out and he would get whipped, he slipped it into George + Wilson’s cap—poor Widow Wilson’s son, the moral boy, the + good little boy of the village, who always obeyed his mother, and never + told an untruth, and was fond of his lessons, and infatuated with + Sunday-school. And when the knife dropped from the cap, and poor George + hung his head and blushed, as if in conscious guilt, and the grieved + teacher charged the theft upon him, and was just in the very act of + bringing the switch down upon his trembling shoulders, a white-haired, + improbable justice of the peace did not suddenly appear in their midst, + and strike an attitude and say, “Spare this noble boy—there + stands the cowering culprit! I was passing the school door at recess, and, + unseen myself, I saw the theft committed!” And then Jim didn’t + get whaled, and the venerable justice didn’t read the tearful school + a homily, and take George by the hand and say such a boy deserved to be + exalted, and then tell him to come and make his home with him, and sweep + out the office, and make fires, and run errands, and chop wood, and study + law, and help his wife do household labors, and have all the balance of + the time to play, and get forty cents a month, and be happy. No; it would + have happened that way in the books, but didn’t happen that way to + Jim. No meddling old clam of a justice dropped in to make trouble, and so + the model boy George got thrashed, and Jim was glad of it because, you + know, Jim hated moral boys. Jim said he was “down on them milksops.” + Such was the coarse language of this bad, neglected boy. + </p> + <p> + But the strangest thing that ever happened to Jim was the time he went + boating on Sunday, and didn’t get drowned, and that other time that + he got caught out in the storm when he was fishing on Sunday, and didn’t + get struck by lightning. Why, you might look, and look, all through the + Sunday-school books from now till next Christmas, and you would never come + across anything like this. Oh, no; you would find that all the bad boys + who go boating on Sunday invariably get drowned; and all the bad boys who + get caught out in storms when they are fishing on Sunday infallibly get + struck by lightning. Boats with bad boys in them always upset on Sunday, + and it always storms when bad boys go fishing on the Sabbath. How this Jim + ever escaped is a mystery to me. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p054.jpg (27K)" src="images/p054.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + This Jim bore a charmed life—that must have been the way of it. + Nothing could hurt him. He even gave the elephant in the menagerie a plug + of tobacco, and the elephant didn’t knock the top of his head off + with his trunk. He browsed around the cupboard after essence-of + peppermint, and didn’t make a mistake and drink aqua fortis. He + stole his father’s gun and went hunting on the Sabbath, and didn’t + shoot three or four of his fingers off. He struck his little sister on the + temple with his fist when he was angry, and she didn’t linger in + pain through long summer days, and die with sweet words of forgiveness + upon her lips that redoubled the anguish of his breaking heart. No; she + got over it. He ran off and went to sea at last, and didn’t come + back and find himself sad and alone in the world, his loved ones sleeping + in the quiet churchyard, and the vine-embowered home of his boyhood + tumbled down and gone to decay. Ah, no; he came home as drunk as a piper, + and got into the station-house the first thing. + </p> + <p> + And he grew up and married, and raised a large family, and brained them + all with an ax one night, and got wealthy by all manner of cheating and + rascality; and now he is the infernalest wickedest scoundrel in his native + village, and is universally respected, and belongs to the legislature. + </p> + <p> + So you see there never was a bad James in the Sunday-school books that had + such a streak of luck as this sinful Jim with the charmed life. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p055.jpg (25K)" src="images/p055.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="goodboy" id="goodboy"></a>THE STORY OF THE GOOD LITTLE BOY + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [Written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p056.jpg (100K)" src="images/p056.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Once there was a good little boy by the name of Jacob Blivens. He always + obeyed his parents, no matter how absurd and unreasonable their demands + were; and he always learned his book, and never was late at + Sabbath-school. He would not play hookey, even when his sober judgment + told him it was the most profitable thing he could do. None of the other + boys could ever make that boy out, he acted so strangely. He wouldn’t + lie, no matter how convenient it was. He just said it was wrong to lie, + and that was sufficient for him. And he was so honest that he was simply + ridiculous. The curious ways that that Jacob had, surpassed everything. He + wouldn’t play marbles on Sunday, he wouldn’t rob birds’ + nests, he wouldn’t give hot pennies to organ-grinders’ + monkeys; he didn’t seem to take any interest in any kind of rational + amusement. So the other boys used to try to reason it out and come to an + understanding of him, but they couldn’t arrive at any satisfactory + conclusion. As I said before, they could only figure out a sort of vague + idea that he was “afflicted,” and so they took him under their + protection, and never allowed any harm to come to him. + </p> + <p> + This good little boy read all the Sunday-school books; they were his + greatest delight. This was the whole secret of it. He believed in the good + little boys they put in the Sunday-school books; he had every confidence + in them. He longed to come across one of them alive once; but he never + did. They all died before his time, maybe. Whenever he read about a + particularly good one he turned over quickly to the end to see what became + of him, because he wanted to travel thousands of miles and gaze on him; + but it wasn’t any use; that good little boy always died in the last + chapter, and there was a picture of the funeral, with all his relations + and the Sunday-school children standing around the grave in pantaloons + that were too short, and bonnets that were too large, and everybody crying + into handkerchiefs that had as much as a yard and a half of stuff in them. + He was always headed off in this way. He never could see one of those good + little boys on account of his always dying in the last chapter. + </p> + <p> + Jacob had a noble ambition to be put in a Sunday school book. He wanted to + be put in, with pictures representing him gloriously declining to lie to + his mother, and her weeping for joy about it; and pictures representing + him standing on the doorstep giving a penny to a poor beggar-woman with + six children, and telling her to spend it freely, but not to be + extravagant, because extravagance is a sin; and pictures of him + magnanimously refusing to tell on the bad boy who always lay in wait for + him around the corner as he came from school, and welted him over the head + with a lath, and then chased him home, saying, “Hi! hi!” as he + proceeded. That was the ambition of young Jacob Blivens. He wished to be + put in a Sunday-school book. It made him feel a little uncomfortable + sometimes when he reflected that the good little boys always died. He + loved to live, you know, and this was the most unpleasant feature about + being a Sunday-school-book boy. He knew it was not healthy to be good. He + knew it was more fatal than consumption to be so supernaturally good as + the boys in the books were he knew that none of them had ever been able to + stand it long, and it pained him to think that if they put him in a book + he wouldn’t ever see it, or even if they did get the book out before + he died it wouldn’t be popular without any picture of his funeral in + the back part of it. It couldn’t be much of a Sunday-school book + that couldn’t tell about the advice he gave to the community when he + was dying. So at last, of course, he had to make up his mind to do the + best he could under the circumstances—to live right, and hang on as + long as he could, and have his dying speech all ready when his time came. + </p> + <p> + But somehow nothing ever went right with the good little boy; nothing ever + turned out with him the way it turned out with the good little boys in the + books. They always had a good time, and the bad boys had the broken legs; + but in his case there was a screw loose somewhere, and it all happened + just the other way. When he found Jim Blake stealing apples, and went + under the tree to read to him about the bad little boy who fell out of a + neighbor’s apple tree and broke his arm, Jim fell out of the tree, + too, but he fell on him and broke his arm, and Jim wasn’t hurt at + all. Jacob couldn’t understand that. There wasn’t anything in + the books like it. + </p> + <p> + And once, when some bad boys pushed a blind man over in the mud, and Jacob + ran to help him up and receive his blessing, the blind man did not give + him any blessing at all, but whacked him over the head with his stick and + said he would like to catch him shoving him again, and then pretending to + help him up. This was not in accordance with any of the books. Jacob + looked them all over to see. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p058.jpg (34K)" src="images/p058.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + One thing that Jacob wanted to do was to find a lame dog that hadn’t + any place to stay, and was hungry and persecuted, and bring him home and + pet him and have that dog’s imperishable gratitude. And at last he + found one and was happy; and he brought him home and fed him, but when he + was going to pet him the dog flew at him and tore all the clothes off him + except those that were in front, and made a spectacle of him that was + astonishing. He examined authorities, but he could not understand the + matter. It was of the same breed of dogs that was in the books, but it + acted very differently. Whatever this boy did he got into trouble. The + very things the boys in the books got rewarded for turned out to be about + the most unprofitable things he could invest in. + </p> + <p> + Once, when he was on his way to Sunday-school, he saw some bad boys + starting off pleasuring in a sailboat. He was filled with consternation, + because he knew from his reading that boys who went sailing on Sunday + invariably got drowned. So he ran out on a raft to warn them, but a log + turned with him and slid him into the river. A man got him out pretty + soon, and the doctor pumped the water out of him, and gave him a fresh + start with his bellows, but he caught cold and lay sick abed nine weeks. + But the most unaccountable thing about it was that the bad boys in the + boat had a good time all day, and then reached home alive and well in the + most surprising manner. Jacob Blivens said there was nothing like these + things in the books. He was perfectly dumfounded. + </p> + <p> + When he got well he was a little discouraged, but he resolved to keep on + trying anyhow. He knew that so far his experiences wouldn’t do to go + in a book, but he hadn’t yet reached the allotted term of life for + good little boys, and he hoped to be able to make a record yet if he could + hold on till his time was fully up. If everything else failed he had his + dying speech to fall back on. + </p> + <p> + He examined his authorities, and found that it was now time for him to go + to sea as a cabin-boy. He called on a ship-captain and made his + application, and when the captain asked for his recommendations he proudly + drew out a tract and pointed to the word, “To Jacob Blivens, from + his affectionate teacher.” But the captain was a coarse, vulgar man, + and he said, “Oh, that be blowed! that wasn’t any proof that + he knew how to wash dishes or handle a slush-bucket, and he guessed he + didn’t want him.” This was altogether the most extraordinary + thing that ever happened to Jacob in all his life. A compliment from a + teacher, on a tract, had never failed to move the tenderest emotions of + ship-captains, and open the way to all offices of honor and profit in + their gift—it never had in any book that ever he had read. He could + hardly believe his senses. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p060.jpg (27K)" src="images/p060.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + This boy always had a hard time of it. Nothing ever came out according to + the authorities with him. At last, one day, when he was around hunting up + bad little boys to admonish, he found a lot of them in the old + iron-foundry fixing up a little joke on fourteen or fifteen dogs, which + they had tied together in long procession, and were going to ornament with + empty nitroglycerin cans made fast to their tails. Jacob’s heart was + touched. He sat down on one of those cans (for he never minded grease when + duty was before him), and he took hold of the foremost dog by the collar, + and turned his reproving eye upon wicked Tom Jones. But just at that + moment Alderman McWelter, full of wrath, stepped in. All the bad boys ran + away, but Jacob Blivens rose in conscious innocence and began one of those + stately little Sunday-school-book speeches which always commence with + “Oh, sir!” in dead opposition to the fact that no boy, good or + bad, ever starts a remark with “Oh, sir.” But the alderman + never waited to hear the rest. He took Jacob Blivens by the ear and turned + him around, and hit him a whack in the rear with the flat of his hand; and + in an instant that good little boy shot out through the roof and soared + away toward the sun, with the fragments of those fifteen dogs stringing + after him like the tail of a kite. And there wasn’t a sign of that + alderman or that old iron-foundry left on the face of the earth; and, as + for young Jacob Blivens, he never got a chance to make his last dying + speech after all his trouble fixing it up, unless he made it to the birds; + because, although the bulk of him came down all right in a tree-top in an + adjoining county, the rest of him was apportioned around among four + townships, and so they had to hold five inquests on him to find out + whether he was dead or not, and how it occurred. You never saw a boy + scattered so.—[This glycerin catastrophe is borrowed from a floating + newspaper item, whose author’s name I would give if I knew it.—M. + T.] + </p> + <p> + Thus perished the good little boy who did the best he could, but didn’t + come out according to the books. Every boy who ever did as he did + prospered except him. His case is truly remarkable. It will probably never + be accounted for. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="poems" id="poems"></a>A COUPLE OF POEMS BY TWAIN AND MOORE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THOSE EVENING BELLS + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + BY THOMAS MOORE + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + Those evening bells! those evening bells!<br /> How many a tale their + music tells<br /> Of youth, and home, and that sweet time<br /> When last + I heard their soothing chime.<br /> <br /> Those joyous hours are passed + away;<br /> And many a heart that then was gay,<br /> Within the tomb now + darkly dwells,<br /> And hears no more those evening bells.<br /> <br /> + And so ’twill be when I am gone<br /> That tuneful peal will still + ring on;<br /> While other bards shall walk these dells,<br /> And sing + your praise, sweet evening bells.<br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THOSE ANNUAL BILLS + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + BY MARK TWAIN + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + These annual bills! these annual bills!<br /> How many a song their + discord trills<br /> Of “truck” consumed, enjoyed, forgot,<br /> + Since I was skinned by last year’s lot!<br /> <br /> Those joyous + beans are passed away;<br /> Those onions blithe, O where are they?<br /> + Once loved, lost, mourned—now vexing ILLS<br /> Your shades troop + back in annual bills!<br /> <br /> And so ’twill be when I’m + aground<br /> These yearly duns will still go round,<br /> While other + bards, with frantic quills,<br /> Shall damn and damn these annual bills!<br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="niagara" id="niagara"></a>NIAGARA + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1871] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p063.jpg (103K)" src="images/p063.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Niagara Falls is a most enjoyable place of resort. The hotels are + excellent, and the prices not at all exorbitant. The opportunities for + fishing are not surpassed in the country; in fact, they are not even + equaled elsewhere. Because, in other localities, certain places in the + streams are much better than others; but at Niagara one place is just as + good as another, for the reason that the fish do not bite anywhere, and so + there is no use in your walking five miles to fish, when you can depend on + being just as unsuccessful nearer home. The advantages of this state of + things have never heretofore been properly placed before the public. + </p> + <p> + The weather is cool in summer, and the walks and drives are all pleasant + and none of them fatiguing. When you start out to “do” the + Falls you first drive down about a mile, and pay a small sum for the + privilege of looking down from a precipice into the narrowest part of the + Niagara River. A railway “cut” through a hill would be as + comely if it had the angry river tumbling and foaming through its bottom. + You can descend a staircase here a hundred and fifty feet down, and stand + at the edge of the water. After you have done it, you will wonder why you + did it; but you will then be too late. + </p> + <p> + The guide will explain to you, in his blood-curdling way, how he saw the + little steamer, Maid of the Mist, descend the fearful rapids—how + first one paddle-box was out of sight behind the raging billows and then + the other, and at what point it was that her smokestack toppled overboard, + and where her planking began to break and part asunder—and how she + did finally live through the trip, after accomplishing the incredible feat + of traveling seventeen miles in six minutes, or six miles in seventeen + minutes, I have really forgotten which. But it was very extraordinary, + anyhow. It is worth the price of admission to hear the guide tell the + story nine times in succession to different parties, and never miss a word + or alter a sentence or a gesture. + </p> + <p> + Then you drive over to Suspension Bridge, and divide your misery between + the chances of smashing down two hundred feet into the river below, and + the chances of having the railway-train overhead smashing down onto you. + Either possibility is discomforting taken by itself, but, mixed together, + they amount in the aggregate to positive unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + On the Canada side you drive along the chasm between long ranks of + photographers standing guard behind their cameras, ready to make an + ostentatious frontispiece of you and your decaying ambulance, and your + solemn crate with a hide on it, which you are expected to regard in the + light of a horse, and a diminished and unimportant background of sublime + Niagara; and a great many people have the incredible effrontery or the + native depravity to aid and abet this sort of crime. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p065.jpg (48K)" src="images/p065.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Any day, in the hands of these photographers, you may see stately pictures + of papa and mamma, Johnny and Bub and Sis, or a couple of country cousins, + all smiling vacantly, and all disposed in studied and uncomfortable + attitudes in their carriage, and all looming up in their awe-inspiring + imbecility before the snubbed and diminished presentment of that majestic + presence whose ministering spirits are the rainbows, whose voice is the + thunder, whose awful front is veiled in clouds, who was monarch here dead + and forgotten ages before this sackful of small reptiles was deemed + temporarily necessary to fill a crack in the world’s unnoted + myriads, and will still be monarch here ages and decades of ages after + they shall have gathered themselves to their blood-relations, the other + worms, and been mingled with the unremembering dust. + </p> + <p> + There is no actual harm in making Niagara a background whereon to display + one’s marvelous insignificance in a good strong light, but it + requires a sort of superhuman self-complacency to enable one to do it. + </p> + <p> + When you have examined the stupendous Horseshoe Fall till you are + satisfied you cannot improve on it, you return to America by the new + Suspension Bridge, and follow up the bank to where they exhibit the Cave + of the Winds. + </p> + <p> + Here I followed instructions, and divested myself of all my clothing, and + put on a waterproof jacket and overalls. This costume is picturesque, but + not beautiful. A guide, similarly dressed, led the way down a flight of + winding stairs, which wound and wound, and still kept on winding long + after the thing ceased to be a novelty, and then terminated long before it + had begun to be a pleasure. We were then well down under the precipice, + but still considerably above the level of the river. + </p> + <p> + We now began to creep along flimsy bridges of a single plank, our persons + shielded from destruction by a crazy wooden railing, to which I clung with + both hands—not because I was afraid, but because I wanted to. + Presently the descent became steeper and the bridge flimsier, and sprays + from the American Fall began to rain down on us in fast increasing sheets + that soon became blinding, and after that our progress was mostly in the + nature of groping. Now a a furious wind began to rush out from behind the + waterfall, which seemed determined to sweep us from the bridge, and + scatter us on the rocks and among the torrents below. I remarked that I + wanted to go home; but it was too late. We were almost under the monstrous + wall of water thundering down from above, and speech was in vain in the + midst of such a pitiless crash of sound. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p066.jpg (48K)" src="images/p066.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + In another moment the guide disappeared behind the deluge, and, bewildered + by the thunder, driven helplessly by the wind, and smitten by the arrowy + tempest of rain, I followed. All was darkness. Such a mad storming, + roaring, and bellowing of warring wind and water never crazed my ears + before. I bent my head, and seemed to receive the Atlantic on my back. The + world seemed going to destruction. I could not see anything, the flood + poured down savagely. I raised my head, with open mouth, and the most of + the American cataract went down my throat. If I had sprung a leak now I + had been lost. And at this moment I discovered that the bridge had ceased, + and we must trust for a foothold to the slippery and precipitous rocks. I + never was so scared before and survived it. But we got through at last, + and emerged into the open day, where we could stand in front of the laced + and frothy and seething world of descending water, and look at it. When I + saw how much of it there was, and how fearfully in earnest it was, I was + sorry I had gone behind it. + </p> + <p> + The noble Red Man has always been a friend and darling of mine. I love to + read about him in tales and legends and romances. I love to read of his + inspired sagacity, and his love of the wild free life of mountain and + forest, and his general nobility of character, and his stately + metaphorical manner of speech, and his chivalrous love for the dusky + maiden, and the picturesque pomp of his dress and accoutrements. + Especially the picturesque pomp of his dress and accoutrements. When I + found the shops at Niagara Falls full of dainty Indian beadwork, and + stunning moccasins, and equally stunning toy figures representing human + beings who carried their weapons in holes bored through their arms and + bodies, and had feet shaped like a pie, I was filled with emotion. I knew + that now, at last, I was going to come face to face with the noble Red + Man. + </p> + <p> + A lady clerk in a shop told me, indeed, that all her grand array of + curiosities were made by the Indians, and that they were plenty about the + Falls, and that they were friendly, and it would not be dangerous to speak + to them. And sure enough, as I approached the bridge leading over to Luna + Island, I came upon a noble Son of the Forest sitting under a tree, + diligently at work on a bead reticule. He wore a slouch hat and brogans, + and had a short black pipe in his mouth. Thus does the baneful contact + with our effeminate civilization dilute the picturesque pomp which is so + natural to the Indian when far removed from us in his native haunts. I + addressed the relic as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Is the Wawhoo-Wang-Wang of the Whack-a-Whack happy? Does the great + Speckled Thunder sigh for the war-path, or is his heart contented with + dreaming of the dusky maiden, the Pride of the Forest? Does the mighty + Sachem yearn to drink the blood of his enemies, or is he satisfied to make + bead reticules for the pappooses of the paleface? Speak, sublime relic of + bygone grandeur—venerable ruin, speak!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p068.jpg (49K)" src="images/p068.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The relic said: + </p> + <p> + “An’ is it mesilf, Dennis Hooligan, that ye’d be takin’ + for a dirty Injin, ye drawlin’, lantern-jawed, spider-legged divil! + By the piper that played before Moses, I’ll ate ye!” + </p> + <p> + I went away from there. + </p> + <p> + By and by, in the neighborhood of the Terrapin Tower, I came upon a gentle + daughter of the aborigines in fringed and beaded buckskin moccasins and + leggins, seated on a bench with her pretty wares about her. She had just + carved out a wooden chief that had a strong family resemblance to a + clothes-pin, and was now boring a hole through his abdomen to put his bow + through. I hesitated a moment, and then addressed her: + </p> + <p> + “Is the heart of the forest maiden heavy? Is the Laughing Tadpole + lonely? Does she mourn over the extinguished council-fires of her race, + and the vanished glory of her ancestors? Or does her sad spirit wander + afar toward the hunting-grounds whither her brave + Gobbler-of-the-Lightnings is gone? Why is my daughter silent? Has she + ought against the paleface stranger?” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p069.jpg (27K)" src="images/p069.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The maiden said: + </p> + <p> + “Faix, an’ is it Biddy Malone ye dare to be callin’ + names? Lave this, or I’ll shy your lean carcass over the cataract, + ye sniveling blaggard!” + </p> + <p> + I adjourned from there also. + </p> + <p> + “Confound these Indians!” I said. “They told me they + were tame; but, if appearances go for anything, I should say they were all + on the warpath.” + </p> + <p> + I made one more attempt to fraternize with them, and only one. I came upon + a camp of them gathered in the shade of a great tree, making wampum and + moccasins, and addressed them in the language of friendship: + </p> + <p> + “Noble Red Men, Braves, Grand Sachems, War Chiefs, Squaws, and High + Muck-a-Mucks, the paleface from the land of the setting sun greets you! + You, Beneficent Polecat—you, Devourer of Mountains—you, + Roaring Thundergust—you, Bully Boy with a Glass eye—the + paleface from beyond the great waters greets you all! War and pestilence + have thinned your ranks and destroyed your once proud nation. Poker and + seven-up, and a vain modern expense for soap, unknown to your glorious + ancestors, have depleted your purses. Appropriating, in your simplicity, + the property of others has gotten you into trouble. Misrepresenting facts, + in your simple innocence, has damaged your reputation with the soulless + usurper. Trading for forty-rod whisky, to enable you to get drunk and + happy and tomahawk your families, has played the everlasting mischief with + the picturesque pomp of your dress, and here you are, in the broad light + of the nineteenth century, gotten up like the ragtag and bobtail of the + purlieus of New York. For shame! Remember your ancestors! Recall their + mighty deeds! Remember Uncas!—and Red jacket! and Hole in the Day!—and + Whoopdedoodledo! Emulate their achievements! Unfurl yourselves under my + banner, noble savages, illustrious guttersnipes—” + </p> + <p> + “Down wid him!” “Scoop the blaggard!” “Burn + him!” “Hang him!” “Dhround him!” + </p> + <p> + It was the quickest operation that ever was. I simply saw a sudden flash + in the air of clubs, brickbats, fists, bead-baskets, and moccasins—a + single flash, and they all appeared to hit me at once, and no two of them + in the same place. In the next instant the entire tribe was upon me. They + tore half the clothes off me; they broke my arms and legs; they gave me a + thump that dented the top of my head till it would hold coffee like a + saucer; and, to crown their disgraceful proceedings and add insult to + injury, they threw me over the Niagara Falls, and I got wet. + </p> + <p> + About ninety or a hundred feet from the top, the remains of my vest caught + on a projecting rock, and I was almost drowned before I could get loose. I + finally fell, and brought up in a world of white foam at the foot of the + Fall, whose celled and bubbly masses towered-up several inches above my + head. Of course I got into the eddy. I sailed round and round in it + forty-four times—chasing a chip and gaining on it—each round + trip a half-mile—reaching for the same bush on the bank forty-four + times, and just exactly missing it by a hair’s-breadth every time. + </p> + <p> + At last a man walked down and sat down close to that bush, and put a pipe + in his mouth, and lit a match, and followed me with one eye and kept the + other on the match, while he sheltered it in his hands from the wind. + Presently a puff of wind blew it out. The next time I swept around he + said: + </p> + <p> + “Got a match?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; in my other vest. Help me out, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Not for Joe.” + </p> + <p> + When I came round again, I said: + </p> + <p> + “Excuse the seemingly impertinent curiosity of a drowning man, but + will you explain this singular conduct of yours?” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p071.jpg (40K)" src="images/p071.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure. I am the coroner. Don’t hurry on my account. I + can wait for you. But I wish I had a match.” + </p> + <p> + I said: “Take my place, and I’ll go and get you one.” + </p> + <p> + He declined. This lack of confidence on his part created a coldness + between us, and from that time forward I avoided him. It was my idea, in + case anything happened to me, to so time the occurrence as to throw my + custom into the hands of the opposition coroner on the American side. + </p> + <p> + At last a policeman came along, and arrested me for disturbing the peace + by yelling at people on shore for help. The judge fined me, but I had the + advantage of him. My money was with my pantaloons, and my pantaloons were + with the Indians. + </p> + <p> + Thus I escaped. I am now lying in a very critical condition. At least I am + lying anyway—-critical or not critical. I am hurt all over, but I + cannot tell the full extent yet, because the doctor is not done taking + inventory. He will make out my manifest this evening. However, thus far he + thinks only sixteen of my wounds are fatal. I don’t mind the others. + </p> + <p> + Upon regaining my right mind, I said: + </p> + <p> + “It is an awful savage tribe of Indians that do the beadwork and + moccasins for Niagara Falls, doctor. Where are they from?” + </p> + <p> + “Limerick, my son.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="answers" id="answers"></a>ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p072.jpg (117K)" src="images/p072.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “MORAL STATISTICIAN.”—I don’t want any of your + statistics; I took your whole batch and lit my pipe with it. I hate your + kind of people. You are always ciphering out how much a man’s health + is injured, and how much his intellect is impaired, and how many pitiful + dollars and cents he wastes in the course of ninety-two years’ + indulgence in the fatal practice of smoking; and in the equally fatal + practice of drinking coffee; and in playing billiards occasionally; and in + taking a glass of wine at dinner, etc., etc., etc. And you are always + figuring out how many women have been burned to death because of the + dangerous fashion of wearing expansive hoops, etc., etc., etc. You never + see more than one side of the question. You are blind to the fact that + most old men in America smoke and drink coffee, although, according to + your theory, they ought to have died young; and that hearty old Englishmen + drink wine and survive it, and portly old Dutchmen both drink and smoke + freely, and yet grow older and fatter all the time. And you never try to + find out how much solid comfort, relaxation, and enjoyment a man derives + from smoking in the course of a lifetime (which is worth ten times the + money he would save by letting it alone), nor the appalling aggregate of + happiness lost in a lifetime by your kind of people from not smoking. Of + course you can save money by denying yourself all the little vicious + enjoyments for fifty years; but then what can you do with it? What use can + you put it to? Money can’t save your infinitesimal soul. All the use + that money can be put to is to purchase comfort and enjoyment in this + life; therefore, as you are an enemy to comfort and enjoyment, where is + the use of accumulating cash? It won’t do for you to say that you + can use it to better purpose in furnishing a good table, and in charities, + and in supporting tract societies, because you know yourself that you + people who have no petty vices are never known to give away a cent, and + that you stint yourselves so in the matter of food that you are always + feeble and hungry. And you never dare to laugh in the daytime for fear + some poor wretch, seeing you in a good humor, will try to borrow a dollar + of you; and in church you are always down on your knees, with your eyes + buried in the cushion, when the contribution-box comes around; and you + never give the revenue officer full statement of your income. Now you know + these things yourself, don’t you? Very well, then what is the use of + your stringing out your miserable lives to a lean and withered old age? + What is the use of your saving money that is so utterly worthless to you? + In a word, why don’t you go off somewhere and die, and not be always + trying to seduce people into becoming as “ornery” and + unlovable as you are yourselves, by your villainous “moral + statistics”? Now I don’t approve of dissipation, and I don’t + indulge in it, either; but I haven’t a particle of confidence in a + man who has no redeeming petty vices, and so I don’t want to hear + from you any more. I think you are the very same man who read me a long + lecture last week about the degrading vice of smoking cigars, and then + came back, in my absence, with your reprehensible fireproof gloves on, and + carried off my beautiful parlor stove. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “YOUNG AUTHOR.”—Yes, Agassiz does recommend authors to + eat fish, because the phosphorus in it makes brain. So far you are + correct. But I cannot help you to a decision about the amount you need to + eat—at least, not with certainty. If the specimen composition you + send is about your fair usual average, I should judge that perhaps a + couple of whales would be all you would want for the present. Not the + largest kind, but simply good, middling-sized whales. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “SIMON WHEELER,” Sonora.—The following simple and + touching remarks and accompanying poem have just come to hand from the + rich gold-mining region of Sonora: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> To Mr. Mark Twain: The within parson, which I have set to poetry + under the name and style of “He Done His Level Best,” was + one among the whitest men I ever see, and it ain’t every man that + knowed him that can find it in his heart to say he’s glad the poor + cuss is busted and gone home to the States. He was here in an early day, + and he was the handyest man about takin’ holt of anything that + come along you most ever see, I judge. He was a cheerful, stirin’ + cretur, always doin’ somethin’, and no man can say he ever + see him do anything by halvers. Preachin was his nateral gait, but he + warn’t a man to lay back and twidle his thumbs because there didn’t + happen to be nothin’ doin’ in his own especial line—no, + sir, he was a man who would meander forth and stir up something for + hisself. His last acts was to go his pile on “Kings-and” + (calklatin’ to fill, but which he didn’t fill), when there + was a “flush” out agin him, and naterally, you see, he went + under. And so he was cleaned out as you may say, and he struck the + home-trail, cheerful but flat broke. I knowed this talonted man in + Arkansaw, and if you would print this humbly tribute to his gorgis + abilities, you would greatly obleege his onhappy friend. + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + HE DONE HIS LEVEL BEST<br /> <br /> Was he a mining on the flat—<br /> + He done it with a zest;<br /> Was he a leading of the choir—<br /> + He done his level best.<br /> <br /> If he’d a reg’lar task to + do,<br /> He never took no rest;<br /> Or if ’twas off-and-on—the + same—<br /> He done his level best.<br /> <br /> If he was preachin’ + on his beat,<br /> He’d tramp from east to west,<br /> And north to + south-in cold and heat<br /> He done his level best.<br /> <br /> He’d + yank a sinner outen (Hades),**<br /> And land him with the blest;<br /> + Then snatch a prayer’n waltz in again,<br /> And do his level best.<br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + **Here I have taken a slight liberty with the original MS. “Hades” + does not make such good meter as the other word of one syllable, but it + sounds better. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + He’d cuss and sing and howl and pray,<br /> And dance and drink and + jest,<br /> And lie and steal—all one to him—<br /> He done + his level best.<br /> <br /> Whate’er this man was sot to do,<br /> + He done it with a zest;<br /> No matter what his contract was,<br /> HE’D + DO HIS LEVEL BEST.<br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Verily, this man was gifted with “gorgis abilities,” and it is + a happiness to me to embalm the memory of their luster in these columns. + If it were not that the poet crop is unusually large and rank in + California this year, I would encourage you to continue writing, Simon + Wheeler; but, as it is, perhaps it might be too risky in you to enter + against so much opposition. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “PROFESSIONAL BEGGAR.”—NO; you are not obliged to take + greenbacks at par. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “MELTON MOWBRAY,” Dutch Flat.—This correspondent sends a + lot of doggerel, and says it has been regarded as very good in Dutch Flat. + I give a specimen verse: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold,<br /> And his + cohorts were gleaming with purple and gold;<br /> And the sheen of his + spears was like stars on the sea,<br /> When the blue wave rolls nightly + on deep Galilee.** + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + **This piece of pleasantry, published in a San Francisco paper, was + mistaken by the country journals for seriousness, and many and loud were + the denunciations of the ignorance of author and editor, in not knowing + that the lines in question were “written by Byron.” + </p> + <p> + There, that will do. That may be very good Dutch Flat poetry, but it won’t + do in the metropolis. It is too smooth and blubbery; it reads like + buttermilk gurgling from a jug. What the people ought to have is something + spirited—something like “Johnny Comes Marching Home.” + However, keep on practising, and you may succeed yet. There is genius in + you, but too much blubber. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “ST. CLAIR HIGGINS.” Los Angeles.—“My life + is a failure; I have adored, wildly, madly, and she whom I love has + turned coldly from me and shed her affections upon another. What would + you advise me to do?” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + You should set your affections on another also—or on several, if + there are enough to go round. Also, do everything you can to make your + former flame unhappy. There is an absurd idea disseminated in novels, that + the happier a girl is with another man, the happier it makes the old lover + she has blighted. Don’t allow yourself to believe any such nonsense + as that. The more cause that girl finds to regret that she did not marry + you, the more comfortable you will feel over it. It isn’t poetical, + but it is mighty sound doctrine. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “ARITHMETICUS.” Virginia, Nevada.—“If it + would take a cannon-ball 3 and 1/3 seconds to travel four miles, and 3 + and 3/8 seconds to travel the next four, and 3 and 5/8 to travel the + next four, and if its rate of progress continued to diminish in the same + ratio, how long would it take it to go fifteen hundred million miles?” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I don’t know. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “AMBITIOUS LEARNER,” Oakland.—Yes; you are right America + was not discovered by Alexander Selkirk. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “DISCARDED LOVER.”—“I loved, and still + love, the beautiful Edwitha Howard, and intended to marry her. Yet, + during my temporary absence at Benicia, last week, alas! she married + Jones. Is my happiness to be thus blasted for life? Have I no redress?” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Of course you have. All the law, written and unwritten, is on your side. + The intention and not the act constitutes crime—in other words, + constitutes the deed. If you call your bosom friend a fool, and intend it + for an insult, it is an insult; but if you do it playfully, and meaning no + insult, it is not an insult. If you discharge a pistol accidentally, and + kill a man, you can go free, for you have done no murder; but if you try + to kill a man, and manifestly intend to kill him, but fail utterly to do + it, the law still holds that the intention constituted the crime, and you + are guilty of murder. Ergo, if you had married Edwitha accidentally, and + without really intending to do it, you would not actually be married to + her at all, because the act of marriage could not be complete without the + intention. And ergo, in the strict spirit of the law, since you + deliberately intended to marry Edwitha, and didn’t do it, you are + married to her all the same—because, as I said before, the intention + constitutes the crime. It is as clear as day that Edwitha is your wife, + and your redress lies in taking a club and mutilating Jones with it as + much as you can. Any man has a right to protect his own wife from the + advances of other men. But you have another alternative—you were + married to Edwitha first, because of your deliberate intention, and now + you can prosecute her for bigamy, in subsequently marrying Jones. But + there is another phase in this complicated case: You intended to marry + Edwitha, and consequently, according to law, she is your wife—there + is no getting around that; but she didn’t marry you, and if she + never intended to marry you, you are not her husband, of course. Ergo, in + marrying Jones, she was guilty of bigamy, because she was the wife of + another man at the time; which is all very well as far as it goes—but + then, don’t you see, she had no other husband when she married + Jones, and consequently she was not guilty of bigamy. Now, according to + this view of the case, Jones married a spinster, who was a widow at the + same time and another man’s wife at the same time, and yet who had + no husband and never had one, and never had any intention of getting + married, and therefore, of course, never had been married; and by the same + reasoning you are a bachelor, because you have never been any one’s + husband; and a married man, because you have a wife living; and to all + intents and purposes a widower, because you have been deprived of that + wife; and a consummate ass for going off to Benicia in the first place, + while things were so mixed. And by this time I have got myself so tangled + up in the intricacies of this extraordinary case that I shall have to give + up any further attempt to advise you—I might get confused and fail + to make myself understood. I think I could take up the argument where I + left off, and by following it closely awhile, perhaps I could prove to + your satisfaction, either that you never existed at all, or that you are + dead now, and consequently don’t need the faithless Edwitha—I + think I could do that, if it would afford you any comfort. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “ARTHUR AUGUSTUS.”—No; you are wrong; that is the proper + way to throw a brickbat or a tomahawk; but it doesn’t answer so well + for a bouquet; you will hurt somebody if you keep it up. Turn your nosegay + upside down, take it by the stems, and toss it with an upward sweep. Did + you ever pitch quoits? that is the idea. The practice of recklessly + heaving immense solid bouquets, of the general size and weight of prize + cabbages, from the dizzy altitude of the galleries, is dangerous and very + reprehensible. Now, night before last, at the Academy of Music, just after + Signorina ________ had finished that exquisite melody, “The Last + Rose of Summer,” one of these floral pile-drivers came cleaving down + through the atmosphere of applause, and if she hadn’t deployed + suddenly to the right, it would have driven her into the floor like a + shinglenail. Of course that bouquet was well meant; but how would you like + to have been the target? A sincere compliment is always grateful to a + lady, so long as you don’t try to knock her down with it. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “YOUNG MOTHER.”—And so you think a baby is a thing of + beauty and a joy forever? Well, the idea is pleasing, but not original; + every cow thinks the same of its own calf. Perhaps the cow may not think + it so elegantly, but still she thinks it nevertheless. I honor the cow for + it. We all honor this touching maternal instinct wherever we find it, be + it in the home of luxury or in the humble coW-shed. But really, madam, + when I come to examine the matter in all its bearings, I find that the + correctness of your assertion does not assert itself in all cases. A + soiled baby, with a neglected nose, cannot be conscientiously regarded as + a thing of beauty; and inasmuch as babyhood spans but three short years, + no baby is competent to be a joy “forever.” It pains me thus + to demolish two-thirds of your pretty sentiment in a single sentence; but + the position I hold in this chair requires that I shall not permit you to + deceive and mislead the public with your plausible figures of speech. I + know a female baby, aged eighteen months, in this city, which cannot hold + out as a “joy” twenty-four hours on a stretch, let alone + “forever.” And it possesses some of the most remarkable + eccentricities of character and appetite that have ever fallen under my + notice. I will set down here a statement of this infant’s operations + (conceived, planned, and carried out by itself, and without suggestion or + assistance from its mother or any one else), during a single day; and what + I shall say can be substantiated by the sworn testimony of witnesses. + </p> + <p> + It commenced by eating one dozen large blue-mass pills, box and all; then + it fell down a flight of stairs, and arose with a blue and purple knot on + its forehead, after which it proceeded in quest of further refreshment and + amusement. It found a glass trinket ornamented with brass-work—smashed + up and ate the glass, and then swallowed the brass. Then it drank about + twenty drops of laudanum, and more than a dozen tablespoonfuls of strong + spirits of camphor. The reason why it took no more laudanum was because + there was no more to take. After this it lay down on its back, and shoved + five or six inches of a silver-headed whalebone cane down its throat; got + it fast there, and it was all its mother could do to pull the cane out + again, without pulling out some of the child with it. Then, being hungry + for glass again, it broke up several wine glasses, and fell to eating and + swallowing the fragments, not minding a cut or two. Then it ate a quantity + of butter, pepper, salt, and California matches, actually taking a + spoonful of butter, a spoonful of salt, a spoonful of pepper, and three or + four lucifer matches at each mouthful. (I will remark here that this thing + of beauty likes painted German lucifers, and eats all she can get of them; + but she prefers California matches, which I regard as a compliment to our + home manufactures of more than ordinary value, coming, as it does, from + one who is too young to flatter.) Then she washed her head with soap and + water, and afterward ate what soap was left, and drank as much of the suds + as she had room for; after which she sallied forth and took the cow + familiarly by the tail, and got kicked heels over head. At odd times + during the day, when this joy forever happened to have nothing particular + on hand, she put in the time by climbing up on places, and falling down + off them, uniformly damaging her self in the operation. As young as she + is, she speaks many words tolerably distinctly; and being plain-spoken in + other respects, blunt and to the point, she opens conversation with all + strangers, male or female, with the same formula, “How do, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + Not being familiar with the ways of children, it is possible that I have + been magnifying into matter of surprise things which may not strike any + one who is familiar with infancy as being at all astonishing. However, I + cannot believe that such is the case, and so I repeat that my report of + this baby’s performances is strictly true; and if any one doubts it, + I can produce the child. I will further engage that she will devour + anything that is given her (reserving to myself only the right to exclude + anvils), and fall down from any place to which she may be elevated (merely + stipulating that her preference for alighting on her head shall be + respected, and, therefore, that the elevation chosen shall be high enough + to enable her to accomplish this to her satisfaction). But I find I have + wandered from my subject; so, without further argument, I will reiterate + my conviction that not all babies are things of beauty and joys forever. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “ARITHMETICUS.” Virginia, Nevada.—“I am an + enthusiastic student of mathematics, and it is so vexatious to me to + find my progress constantly impeded by these mysterious arithmetical + technicalities. Now do tell me what the difference is between geometry + and conchology?” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Here you come again with your arithmetical conundrums, when I am suffering + death with a cold in the head. If you could have seen the expression of + scorn that darkened my countenance a moment ago, and was instantly split + from the center in every direction like a fractured looking-glass by my + last sneeze, you never would have written that disgraceful question. + Conchology is a science which has nothing to do with mathematics; it + relates only to shells. At the same time, however, a man who opens oysters + for a hotel, or shells a fortified town, or sucks eggs, is not, strictly + speaking, a conchologist-a fine stroke of sarcasm that, but it will be + lost on such an unintellectual clam as you. Now compare conchology and + geometry together, and you will see what the difference is, and your + question will be answered. But don’t torture me with any more + arithmetical horrors until you know I am rid of my cold. I feel the + bitterest animosity toward you at this moment—bothering me in this + way, when I can do nothing but sneeze and rage and snort + pocket-handkerchiefs to atoms. If I had you in range of my nose now I + would blow your brains out. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="poultry" id="poultry"></a>TO RAISE POULTRY + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p081.jpg (131K)" src="images/p081.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [Being a letter written to a Poultry Society that had conferred a + complimentary membership upon the author. Written about 1870.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + Seriously, from early youth I have taken an especial interest in the + subject of poultry-raising, and so this membership touches a ready + sympathy in my breast. Even as a schoolboy, poultry-raising was a study + with me, and I may say without egotism that as early as the age of + seventeen I was acquainted with all the best and speediest methods of + raising chickens, from raising them off a roost by burning lucifer matches + under their noses, down to lifting them off a fence on a frosty night by + insinuating the end of a warm board under their heels. By the time I was + twenty years old, I really suppose I had raised more poultry than any one + individual in all the section round about there. The very chickens came to + know my talent by and by. The youth of both sexes ceased to paw the earth + for worms, and old roosters that came to crow, “remained to pray,” + when I passed by. + </p> + <p> + I have had so much experience in the raising of fowls that I cannot but + think that a few hints from me might be useful to the society. The two + methods I have already touched upon are very simple, and are only used in + the raising of the commonest class of fowls; one is for summer, the other + for winter. In the one case you start out with a friend along about eleven + o’clock on a summer’s night (not later, because in some states—especially + in California and Oregon—chickens always rouse up just at midnight + and crow from ten to thirty minutes, according to the ease or difficulty + they experience in getting the public waked up), and your friend carries + with him a sack. Arrived at the henroost (your neighbor’s, not your + own), you light a match and hold it under first one and then another + pullet’s nose until they are willing to go into that bag without + making any trouble about it. You then return home, either taking the bag + with you or leaving it behind, according as circumstances shall dictate. + N. B.—I have seen the time when it was eligible and appropriate to + leave the sack behind and walk off with considerable velocity, without + ever leaving any word where to send it. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p082.jpg (56K)" src="images/p082.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + In the case of the other method mentioned for raising poultry, your friend + takes along a covered vessel with a charcoal fire in it, and you carry a + long slender plank. This is a frosty night, understand. Arrived at the + tree, or fence, or other henroost (your own if you are an idiot), you warm + the end of your plank in your friend’s fire vessel, and then raise + it aloft and ease it up gently against a slumbering chicken’s foot. + If the subject of your attentions is a true bird, he will infallibly + return thanks with a sleepy cluck or two, and step out and take up + quarters on the plank, thus becoming so conspicuously accessory before the + fact to his own murder as to make it a grave question in our minds as it + once was in the mind of Blackstone, whether he is not really and + deliberately committing suicide in the second degree. [But you enter into + a contemplation of these legal refinements subsequently not then.] + </p> + <p> + When you wish to raise a fine, large, donkey-voiced Shanghai rooster, you + do it with a lasso, just as you would a bull. It is because he must be + choked, and choked effectually, too. It is the only good, certain way, for + whenever he mentions a matter which he is cordially interested in, the + chances are ninety-nine in a hundred that he secures somebody else’s + immediate attention to it too, whether it be day or night. + </p> + <p> + The Black Spanish is an exceedingly fine bird and a costly one. + Thirty-five dollars is the usual figure, and fifty a not uncommon price + for a specimen. Even its eggs are worth from a dollar to a dollar and a + half apiece, and yet are so unwholesome that the city physician seldom or + never orders them for the workhouse. Still I have once or twice procured + as high as a dozen at a time for nothing, in the dark of the moon. The + best way to raise the Black Spanish fowl is to go late in the evening and + raise coop and all. The reason I recommend this method is that, the birds + being so valuable, the owners do not permit them to roost around + promiscuously, but put them in a coop as strong as a fireproof safe and + keep it in the kitchen at night. The method I speak of is not always a + bright and satisfying success, and yet there are so many little articles + of <i>vertu</i> about a kitchen, that if you fail on the coop you can + generally bring away something else. I brought away a nice steel trap one + night, worth ninety cents. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p084.jpg (27K)" src="images/p084.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + But what is the use in my pouring out my whole intellect on this subject? + I have shown the Western New York Poultry Society that they have taken to + their bosom a party who is not a spring chicken by any means, but a man + who knows all about poultry, and is just as high up in the most efficient + methods of raising it as the president of the institution himself. I thank + these gentlemen for the honorary membership they have conferred upon me, + and shall stand at all times ready and willing to testify my good feeling + and my official zeal by deeds as well as by this hastily penned advice and + information. Whenever they are ready to go to raising poultry, let them + call for me any evening after eleven o’clock, and I shall be on hand + promptly. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="croup" id="croup"></a>EXPERIENCE OF THE McWILLIAMSES WITH + MEMBRANOUS CROUP + </h2> + <h3> + [As related to the author of this book by Mr. McWilliams, a pleasant New + York gentleman whom the said author met by chance on a journey.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p085.jpg (129K)" src="images/p085.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Well, to go back to where I was before I digressed to explain to you how + that frightful and incurable disease, membranous croup,[Diphtheria D.W.] + was ravaging the town and driving all mothers mad with terror, I called + Mrs. McWilliams’s attention to little Penelope, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Darling, I wouldn’t let that child be chewing that pine stick + if I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “Precious, where is the harm in it?” said she, but at the same + time preparing to take away the stick for women cannot receive even the + most palpably judicious suggestion without arguing it; that is married + women. + </p> + <p> + I replied: + </p> + <p> + “Love, it is notorious that pine is the least nutritious wood that a + child can eat.” + </p> + <p> + My wife’s hand paused, in the act of taking the stick, and returned + itself to her lap. She bridled perceptibly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Hubby, you know better than that. You know you do. Doctors all say + that the turpentine in pine wood is good for weak back and the kidneys.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—I was under a misapprehension. I did not know that the + child’s kidneys and spine were affected, and that the family + physician had recommended—” + </p> + <p> + “Who said the child’s spine and kidneys were affected?” + </p> + <p> + “My love, you intimated it.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea! I never intimated anything of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, it hasn’t been two minutes since you said—” + </p> + <p> + “Bother what I said! I don’t care what I did say. There isn’t + any harm in the child’s chewing a bit of pine stick if she wants to, + and you know it perfectly well. And she shall chew it, too. So there, now!” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more, my dear. I now see the force of your reasoning, and I + will go and order two or three cords of the best pine wood to-day. No + child of mine shall want while I—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please go along to your office and let me have some peace. A + body can never make the simplest remark but you must take it up and go to + arguing and arguing and arguing till you don’t know what you are + talking about, and you never do.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, it shall be as you say. But there is a want of logic in + your last remark which—” + </p> + <p> + However, she was gone with a flourish before I could finish, and had taken + the child with her. That night at dinner she confronted me with a face as + white as a sheet: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mortimer, there’s another! Little Georgi Gordon is taken.” + </p> + <p> + “Membranous croup?” + </p> + <p> + “Membranous croup.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any hope for him?” + </p> + <p> + “None in the wide world. Oh, what is to become of us!” + </p> + <p> + By and by a nurse brought in our Penelope to say good night and offer the + customary prayer at the mother’s knee. In the midst of “Now I + lay me down to sleep,” she gave a slight cough! My wife fell back + like one stricken with death. But the next moment she was up and brimming + with the activities which terror inspires. + </p> + <p> + She commanded that the child’s crib be removed from the nursery to + our bedroom; and she went along to see the order executed. She took me + with her, of course. We got matters arranged with speed. A cot-bed was put + up in my wife’s dressing room for the nurse. But now Mrs. McWilliams + said we were too far away from the other baby, and what if he were to have + the symptoms in the night—and she blanched again, poor thing. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p087.jpg (43K)" src="images/p087.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + We then restored the crib and the nurse to the nursery and put up a bed + for ourselves in a room adjoining. + </p> + <p> + Presently, however, Mrs. McWilliams said suppose the baby should catch it + from Penelope? This thought struck a new panic to her heart, and the tribe + of us could not get the crib out of the nursery again fast enough to + satisfy my wife, though she assisted in her own person and well-nigh + pulled the crib to pieces in her frantic hurry. + </p> + <p> + We moved down-stairs; but there was no place there to stow the nurse, and + Mrs. McWilliams said the nurse’s experience would be an inestimable + help. So we returned, bag and baggage, to our own bedroom once more, and + felt a great gladness, like storm-buffeted birds that have found their + nest again. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. McWilliams sped to the nursery to see how things were going on there. + She was back in a moment with a new dread. She said: + </p> + <p> + “What can make Baby sleep so?” + </p> + <p> + I said: + </p> + <p> + “Why, my darling, Baby always sleeps like a graven image.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. I know; but there’s something peculiar about his + sleep now. He seems to—to—he seems to breathe so regularly. + Oh, this is dreadful.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear, he always breathes regularly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know it, but there’s something frightful about it now. + His nurse is too young and inexperienced. Maria shall stay there with her, + and be on hand if anything happens.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a good idea, but who will help you?” + </p> + <p> + “You can help me all I want. I wouldn’t allow anybody to do + anything but myself, anyhow, at such a time as this.” + </p> + <p> + I said I would feel mean to lie abed and sleep, and leave her to watch and + toil over our little patient all the weary night. But she reconciled me to + it. So old Maria departed and took up her ancient quarters in the nursery. + </p> + <p> + Penelope coughed twice in her sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why don’t that doctor come! Mortimer, this room is too + warm. This room is certainly too warm. Turn off the register-quick!” + </p> + <p> + I shut it off, glancing at the thermometer at the same time, and wondering + to myself if 70 was too warm for a sick child. + </p> + <p> + The coachman arrived from down-town now with the news that our physician + was ill and confined to his bed. Mrs. McWilliams turned a dead eye upon + me, and said in a dead voice: + </p> + <p> + “There is a Providence in it. It is foreordained. He never was sick + before. Never. We have not been living as we ought to live, Mortimer. Time + and time again I have told you so. Now you see the result. Our child will + never get well. Be thankful if you can forgive yourself; I never can + forgive myself.” + </p> + <p> + I said, without intent to hurt, but with heedless choice of words, that I + could not see that we had been living such an abandoned life. + </p> + <p> + “Mortimer! Do you want to bring the judgment upon Baby, too!” + </p> + <p> + Then she began to cry, but suddenly exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “The doctor must have sent medicines!” + </p> + <p> + I said: + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. They are here. I was only waiting for you to give me a + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Well do give them to me! Don’t you know that every moment is + precious now? But what was the use in sending medicines, when he knows + that the disease is incurable?” + </p> + <p> + I said that while there was life there was hope. + </p> + <p> + “Hope! Mortimer, you know no more what you are talking about than + the child unborn. If you would—As I live, the directions say give + one teaspoonful once an hour! Once an hour!—as if we had a whole + year before us to save the child in! Mortimer, please hurry. Give the poor + perishing thing a tablespoonful, and try to be quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, a tablespoonful might—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t drive me frantic! . . . There, there, there, my + precious, my own; it’s nasty bitter stuff, but it’s good for + Nelly—good for mother’s precious darling; and it will make her + well. There, there, there, put the little head on mamma’s breast and + go to sleep, and pretty soon—oh, I know she can’t live till + morning! Mortimer, a tablespoonful every half-hour will—Oh, the + child needs belladonna, too; I know she does—and aconite. Get them, + Mortimer. Now do let me have my way. You know nothing about these things.” + </p> + <p> + We now went to bed, placing the crib close to my wife’s pillow. All + this turmoil had worn upon me, and within two minutes I was something more + than half asleep. Mrs. McWilliams roused me: + </p> + <p> + “Darling, is that register turned on?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought as much. Please turn it on at once. This room is cold.” + </p> + <p> + I turned it on, and presently fell asleep again. I was aroused once more: + </p> + <p> + “Dearie, would you mind moving the crib to your side of the bed? It + is nearer the register.” + </p> + <p> + I moved it, but had a collision with the rug and woke up the child. I + dozed off once more, while my wife quieted the sufferer. But in a little + while these words came murmuring remotely through the fog of my + drowsiness: + </p> + <p> + “Mortimer, if we only had some goose grease—will you ring?” + </p> + <p> + I climbed dreamily out, and stepped on a cat, which responded with a + protest and would have got a convincing kick for it if a chair had not got + it instead. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mortimer, why do you want to turn up the gas and wake up the + child again?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I want to see how much I am hurt, Caroline.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p090.jpg (45K)" src="images/p090.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “Well, look at the chair, too—I have no doubt it is ruined. + Poor cat, suppose you had—” + </p> + <p> + “Now I am not going to suppose anything about the cat. It never + would have occurred if Maria had been allowed to remain here and attend to + these duties, which are in her line and are not in mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mortimer, I should think you would be ashamed to make a remark + like that. It is a pity if you cannot do the few little things I ask of + you at such an awful time as this when our child—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, I will do anything you want. But I can’t raise + anybody with this bell. They’re all gone to bed. Where is the goose + grease?” + </p> + <p> + “On the mantelpiece in the nursery. If you’ll step there and + speak to Maria—” + </p> + <p> + I fetched the goose grease and went to sleep again. Once more I was + called: + </p> + <p> + “Mortimer, I so hate to disturb you, but the room is still too cold + for me to try to apply this stuff. Would you mind lighting the fire? It is + all ready to touch a match to.” + </p> + <p> + I dragged myself out and lit the fire, and then sat down disconsolate. + </p> + <p> + “Mortimer, don’t sit there and catch your death of cold. Come + to bed.” + </p> + <p> + As I was stepping in she said: + </p> + <p> + “But wait a moment. Please give the child some more of the medicine.” + </p> + <p> + Which I did. It was a medicine which made a child more or less lively; so + my wife made use of its waking interval to strip it and grease it all over + with the goose oil. I was soon asleep once more, but once more I had to + get up. + </p> + <p> + “Mortimer, I feel a draft. I feel it distinctly. There is nothing so + bad for this disease as a draft. Please move the crib in front of the + fire.” + </p> + <p> + I did it; and collided with the rug again, which I threw in the fire. Mrs. + McWilliams sprang out of bed and rescued it and we had some words. I had + another trifling interval of sleep, and then got up, by request, and + constructed a flax-seed poultice. This was placed upon the child’s + breast and left there to do its healing work. + </p> + <p> + A wood-fire is not a permanent thing. I got up every twenty minutes and + renewed ours, and this gave Mrs. McWilliams the opportunity to shorten the + times of giving the medicines by ten minutes, which was a great + satisfaction to her. Now and then, between times, I reorganized the + flax-seed poultices, and applied sinapisms and other sorts of blisters + where unoccupied places could be found upon the child. Well, toward + morning the wood gave out and my wife wanted me to go down cellar and get + some more. I said: + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p091.jpg (41K)" src="images/p091.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “My dear, it is a laborious job, and the child must be nearly warm + enough, with her extra clothing. Now mightn’t we put on another + layer of poultices and—” + </p> + <p> + I did not finish, because I was interrupted. I lugged wood up from below + for some little time, and then turned in and fell to snoring as only a man + can whose strength is all gone and whose soul is worn out. Just at broad + daylight I felt a grip on my shoulder that brought me to my senses + suddenly. My wife was glaring down upon me and gasping. As soon as she + could command her tongue she said: + </p> + <p> + “It is all over! All over! The child’s perspiring! What shall + we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, how you terrify me! I don’t know what we ought to do. + Maybe if we scraped her and put her in the draft again—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, idiot! There is not a moment to lose! Go for the doctor. Go + yourself. Tell him he must come, dead or alive.” + </p> + <p> + I dragged that poor sick man from his bed and brought him. He looked at + the child and said she was not dying. This was joy unspeakable to me, but + it made my wife as mad as if he had offered her a personal affront. Then + he said the child’s cough was only caused by some trifling + irritation or other in the throat. At this I thought my wife had a mind to + show him the door. Now the doctor said he would make the child cough + harder and dislodge the trouble. So he gave her something that sent her + into a spasm of coughing, and presently up came a little wood splinter or + so. + </p> + <p> + “This child has no membranous croup,” said he. “She has + been chewing a bit of pine shingle or something of the kind, and got some + little slivers in her throat. They won’t do her any hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, “I can well believe that. Indeed, the + turpentine that is in them is very good for certain sorts of diseases that + are peculiar to children. My wife will tell you so.” + </p> + <p> + But she did not. She turned away in disdain and left the room; and since + that time there is one episode in our life which we never refer to. Hence + the tide of our days flows by in deep and untroubled serenity. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Very few married men have such an experience as McWilliams’s, and + so the author of this book thought that maybe the novelty of it would + give it a passing interest to the reader.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="venture" id="venture"></a>MY FIRST LITERARY VENTURE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + I was a very smart child at the age of thirteen—an unusually smart + child, I thought at the time. It was then that I did my first newspaper + scribbling, and most unexpectedly to me it stirred up a fine sensation in + the community. It did, indeed, and I was very proud of it, too. I was a + printer’s “devil,” and a progressive and aspiring one. + My uncle had me on his paper (the Weekly Hannibal Journal, two dollars a + year in advance—five hundred subscribers, and they paid in cordwood, + cabbages, and unmarketable turnips), and on a lucky summer’s day he + left town to be gone a week, and asked me if I thought I could edit one + issue of the paper judiciously. Ah! didn’t I want to try! Higgins + was the editor on the rival paper. He had lately been jilted, and one + night a friend found an open note on the poor fellow’s bed, in which + he stated that he could not longer endure life and had drowned himself in + Bear Creek. The friend ran down there and discovered Higgins wading back + to shore. He had concluded he wouldn’t. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p094.jpg (64K)" src="images/p094.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The village was full of it for several days, but Higgins did not suspect + it. I thought this was a fine opportunity. I wrote an elaborately wretched + account of the whole matter, and then illustrated it with villainous cuts + engraved on the bottoms of wooden type with a jackknife—one of them + a picture of Higgins wading out into the creek in his shirt, with a + lantern, sounding the depth of the water with a walking-stick. I thought + it was desperately funny, and was densely unconscious that there was any + moral obliquity about such a publication. Being satisfied with this effort + I looked around for other worlds to conquer, and it struck me that it + would make good, interesting matter to charge the editor of a neighboring + country paper with a piece of gratuitous rascality and “see him + squirm.” + </p> + <p> + I did it, putting the article into the form of a parody on the “Burial + of Sir John Moore”—and a pretty crude parody it was, too. + </p> + <p> + Then I lampooned two prominent citizens outrageously—not because + they had done anything to deserve, but merely because I thought it was my + duty to make the paper lively. + </p> + <p> + Next I gently touched up the newest stranger—the lion of the day, + the gorgeous journeyman tailor from Quincy. He was a simpering coxcomb of + the first water, and the “loudest” dressed man in the state. + He was an inveterate woman-killer. Every week he wrote lushy “poetry” + for the journal, about his newest conquest. His rhymes for my week were + headed, “To MARY IN H—l,” meaning to Mary in Hannibal, + of course. But while setting up the piece I was suddenly riven from head + to heel by what I regarded as a perfect thunderbolt of humor, and I + compressed it into a snappy footnote at the bottom—thus: “We + will let this thing pass, just this once; but we wish Mr. J. Gordon + Runnels to understand distinctly that we have a character to sustain, and + from this time forth when he wants to commune with his friends in h—l, + he must select some other medium than the columns of this journal!” + </p> + <p> + The paper came out, and I never knew any little thing attract so much + attention as those playful trifles of mine. + </p> + <p> + For once the Hannibal Journal was in demand—a novelty it had not + experienced before. The whole town was stirred. Higgins dropped in with a + double-barreled shotgun early in the forenoon. When he found that it was + an infant (as he called me) that had done him the damage, he simply pulled + my ears and went away; but he threw up his situation that night and left + town for good. The tailor came with his goose and a pair of shears; but he + despised me, too, and departed for the South that night. The two lampooned + citizens came with threats of libel, and went away incensed at my + insignificance. The country editor pranced in with a war-whoop next day, + suffering for blood to drink; but he ended by forgiving me cordially and + inviting me down to the drug store to wash away all animosity in a + friendly bumper of “Fahnestock’s Vermifuge.” It was his + little joke. My uncle was very angry when he got back—unreasonably + so, I thought, considering what an impetus I had given the paper, and + considering also that gratitude for his preservation ought to have been + uppermost in his mind, inasmuch as by his delay he had so wonderfully + escaped dissection, tomahawking, libel, and getting his head shot off. + </p> + <p> + But he softened when he looked at the accounts and saw that I had actually + booked the unparalleled number of thirty-three new subscribers, and had + the vegetables to show for it, cordwood, cabbage, beans, and unsalable + turnips enough to run the family for two years! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="newark" id="newark"></a>HOW THE AUTHOR WAS SOLD IN NEWARK + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1869] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p096.jpg (103K)" src="images/p096.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + It is seldom pleasant to tell on oneself, but some times it is a sort of + relief to a man to make a confession. I wish to unburden my mind now, and + yet I almost believe that I am moved to do it more because I long to bring + censure upon another man than because I desire to pour balm upon my + wounded heart. (I don’t know what balm is, but I believe it is the + correct expression to use in this connection—never having seen any + balm.) You may remember that I lectured in Newark lately for the young + gentlemen of the——-Society? I did at any rate. During the + afternoon of that day I was talking with one of the young gentlemen just + referred to, and he said he had an uncle who, from some cause or other, + seemed to have grown permanently bereft of all emotion. And with tears in + his eyes, this young man said, “Oh, if I could only see him laugh + once more! Oh, if I could only see him weep!” I was touched. I could + never withstand distress. + </p> + <p> + I said: “Bring him to my lecture. I’ll start him for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you could but do it! If you could but do it, all our family + would bless you for evermore—for he is so very dear to us. Oh, my + benefactor, can you make him laugh? can you bring soothing tears to those + parched orbs?” + </p> + <p> + I was profoundly moved. I said: “My son, bring the old party round. + I have got some jokes in that lecture that will make him laugh if there is + any laugh in him; and if they miss fire, I have got some others that will + make him cry or kill him, one or the other.” Then the young man + blessed me, and wept on my neck, and went after his uncle. He placed him + in full view, in the second row of benches, that night, and I began on + him. I tried him with mild jokes, then with severe ones; I dosed him with + bad jokes and riddled him with good ones; I fired old stale jokes into + him, and peppered him fore and aft with red-hot new ones; I warmed up to + my work, and assaulted him on the right and left, in front and behind; I + fumed and sweated and charged and ranted till I was hoarse and sick and + frantic and furious; but I never moved him once—I never started a + smile or a tear! Never a ghost of a smile, and never a suspicion of + moisture! I was astounded. I closed the lecture at last with one + despairing shriek—with one wild burst of humor, and hurled a joke of + supernatural atrocity full at him! + </p> + <p> + Then I sat down bewildered and exhausted. + </p> + <p> + The president of the society came up and bathed my head with cold water, + and said: “What made you carry on so toward the last?” + </p> + <p> + I said: “I was trying to make that confounded old fool laugh, in the + second row.” + </p> + <p> + And he said: “Well, you were wasting your time, because he is deaf + and dumb, and as blind as a badger!” + </p> + <p> + Now, was that any way for that old man’s nephew to impose on a + stranger and orphan like me? I ask you as a man and brother, if that was + any way for him to do? + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="bore" id="bore"></a>THE OFFICE BORE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1869] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p098.jpg (140K)" src="images/p098.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + He arrives just as regularly as the clock strikes nine in the morning. And + so he even beats the editor sometimes, and the porter must leave his work + and climb two or three pairs of stairs to unlock the “Sanctum” + door and let him in. He lights one of the office pipes—not + reflecting, perhaps, that the editor may be one of those “stuck-up” + people who would as soon have a stranger defile his tooth-brush as his + pipe-stem. Then he begins to loll—for a person who can consent to + loaf his useless life away in ignominious indolence has not the energy to + sit up straight. He stretches full length on the sofa awhile; then draws + up to half length; then gets into a chair, hangs his head back and his + arms abroad, and stretches his legs till the rims of his boot-heels rest + upon the floor; by and by sits up and leans forward, with one leg or both + over the arm of the chair. But it is still observable that with all his + changes of position, he never assumes the upright or a fraudful + affectation of dignity. From time to time he yawns, and stretches, and + scratches himself with a tranquil, mangy enjoyment, and now and then he + grunts a kind of stuffy, overfed grunt, which is full of animal + contentment. At rare and long intervals, however, he sighs a sigh that is + the eloquent expression of a secret confession, to wit “I am useless + and a nuisance, a cumberer of the earth.” The bore and his comrades—for + there are usually from two to four on hand, day and night—mix into + the conversation when men come in to see the editors for a moment on + business; they hold noisy talks among themselves about politics in + particular, and all other subjects in general—even warming up, after + a fashion, sometimes, and seeming to take almost a real interest in what + they are discussing. They ruthlessly call an editor from his work with + such a remark as: “Did you see this, Smith, in the Gazette?” + and proceed to read the paragraph while the sufferer reins in his + impatient pen and listens; they often loll and sprawl round the office + hour after hour, swapping anecdotes and relating personal experiences to + each other—hairbreadth escapes, social encounters with distinguished + men, election reminiscences, sketches of odd characters, etc. And through + all those hours they never seem to comprehend that they are robbing the + editors of their time, and the public of journalistic excellence in next + day’s paper. At other times they drowse, or dreamily pore over + exchanges, or droop limp and pensive over the chair-arms for an hour. Even + this solemn silence is small respite to the editor, for the next + uncomfortable thing to having people look over his shoulders, perhaps, is + to have them sit by in silence and listen to the scratching of his pen. If + a body desires to talk private business with one of the editors, he must + call him outside, for no hint milder than blasting-powder or nitroglycerin + would be likely to move the bores out of listening-distance. To have to + sit and endure the presence of a bore day after day; to feel your cheerful + spirits begin to sink as his footstep sounds on the stair, and utterly + vanish away as his tiresome form enters the door; to suffer through his + anecdotes and die slowly to his reminiscences; to feel always the fetters + of his clogging presence; to long hopelessly for one single day’s + privacy; to note with a shudder, by and by, that to contemplate his + funeral in fancy has ceased to soothe, to imagine him undergoing in strict + and fearful detail the tortures of the ancient Inquisition has lost its + power to satisfy the heart, and that even to wish him millions and + millions and millions of miles in Tophet is able to bring only a fitful + gleam of joy; to have to endure all this, day after day, and week after + week, and month after month, is an affliction that transcends any other + that men suffer. Physical pain is pastime to it, and hanging a pleasure + excursion. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="greer" id="greer"></a>JOHNNY GREER + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “The church was densely crowded that lovely summer Sabbath,” + said the Sunday-school superintendent, “and all, as their eyes + rested upon the small coffin, seemed impressed by the poor black boy’s + fate. Above the stillness the pastor’s voice rose, and chained the + interest of every ear as he told, with many an envied compliment, how that + the brave, noble, daring little Johnny Greer, when he saw the drowned body + sweeping down toward the deep part of the river whence the agonized + parents never could have recovered it in this world, gallantly sprang into + the stream, and, at the risk of his life, towed the corpse to shore, and + held it fast till help came and secured it. Johnny Greer was sitting just + in front of me. A ragged street-boy, with eager eye, turned upon him + instantly, and said in a hoarse whisper + </p> + <p> + “‘No; but did you, though?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Towed the carkiss ashore and saved it yo’self?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Cracky! What did they give you?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘W-h-a-t [with intense disgust]! D’you know what I’d + ‘a’ done? I’d ‘a’ anchored him out in the + stream, and said, Five dollars, gents, or you carn’t have yo’ + nigger.’” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="beef" id="beef"></a>THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF THE GREAT BEEF + CONTRACT + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1867] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p101.jpg (106K)" src="images/p101.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + In as few words as possible I wish to lay before the nation what share, + howsoever small, I have had in this matter—this matter which has so + exercised the public mind, engendered so much ill-feeling, and so filled + the newspapers of both continents with distorted statements and + extravagant comments. + </p> + <p> + The origin of this distressful thing was this—and I assert here that + every fact in the following <i>résumé</i> can be amply + proved by the official records of the General Government. + </p> + <p> + John Wilson Mackenzie, of Rotterdam, Chemung County, New Jersey, deceased, + contracted with the General Government, on or about the 10th day of + October, 1861, to furnish to General Sherman the sum total of thirty + barrels of beef. + </p> + <p> + Very well. + </p> + <p> + He started after Sherman with the beef, but when he got to Washington + Sherman had gone to Manassas; so he took the beef and followed him there, + but arrived too late; he followed him to Nashville, and from Nashville to + Chattanooga, and from Chattanooga to Atlanta—but he never could + overtake him. At Atlanta he took a fresh start and followed him clear + through his march to the sea. He arrived too late again by a few days; but + hearing that Sherman was going out in the Quaker City excursion to the + Holy Land, he took shipping for Beirut, calculating to head off the other + vessel. When he arrived in Jerusalem with his beef, he learned that + Sherman had not sailed in the Quaker City, but had gone to the Plains to + fight the Indians. He returned to America and started for the Rocky + Mountains. After sixty-eight days of arduous travel on the Plains, and + when he had got within four miles of Sherman’s headquarters, he was + tomahawked and scalped, and the Indians got the beef. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p102.jpg (36K)" src="images/p102.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + They got all of it but one barrel. Sherman’s army captured that, and + so, even in death, the bold navigator partly fulfilled his contract. In + his will, which he had kept like a journal, he bequeathed the contract to + his son Bartholomew. Bartholomew W. made out the following bill, and then + died: + </p> + <h3> + THE UNITED STATES + </h3> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + In account with JOHN WILSON MACKENZIE, of New Jersey, + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + deceased, + </td> + <td> + Dr. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To thirty barrels of beef for General Sherman, at $100, + </td> + <td> + $3,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To traveling expenses and transportation + </td> + <td> + 14,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Total + </td> + <td> + $17,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Rec’d Pay’t. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + He died then; but he left the contract to Wm. J. Martin, who tried to + collect it, but died before he got through. He left it to Barker J. Allen, + and he tried to collect it also. He did not survive. Barker J. Allen left + it to Anson G. Rogers, who attempted to collect it, and got along as far + as the Ninth Auditor’s Office, when Death, the great Leveler, came + all unsummoned, and foreclosed on him also. He left the bill to a relative + of his in Connecticut, Vengeance Hopkins by name, who lasted four weeks + and two days, and made the best time on record, coming within one of + reaching the Twelfth Auditor. In his will he gave the contract bill to his + uncle, by the name of O-be-joyful Johnson. It was too undermining for + Joyful. His last words were: “Weep not for me—I am willing to + go.” And so he was, poor soul. Seven people inherited the contract + after that; but they all died. So it came into my hands at last. It fell + to me through a relative by the name of Hubbard—Bethlehem Hubbard, + of Indiana. He had had a grudge against me for a long time; but in his + last moments he sent for me, and forgave me everything, and, weeping, gave + me the beef contract. + </p> + <p> + This ends the history of it up to the time that I succeeded to the + property. I will now endeavor to set myself straight before the nation in + everything that concerns my share in the matter. I took this beef + contract, and the bill for mileage and transportation, to the President of + the United States. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p103.jpg (35K)" src="images/p103.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + He said, “Well, sir, what can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Sire, on or about the 10th day of October, 1861, John + Wilson Mackenzie, of Rotterdam, Chemung County, New Jersey, deceased, + contracted with the General Government to furnish to General Sherman, the + sum total of thirty barrels of beef—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped me there, and dismissed me from his presence—kindly, but + firmly. The next day I called on the Secretary of State. + </p> + <p> + He said, “Well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Your Royal Highness: on or about the 10th day of October, + 1861, John Wilson Mackenzie of Rotterdam, Chemung County, New Jersey, + deceased, contracted with the General Government to furnish to General + Sherman the sum total of thirty barrels of beef—” + </p> + <p> + “That will do, sir—that will do; this office has nothing to do + with contracts for beef.” + </p> + <p> + I was bowed out. I thought the matter all over and finally, the following + day, I visited the Secretary of the Navy, who said, “Speak quickly, + sir; do not keep me waiting.” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Your Royal Highness, on or about the 10th day of October, + 1861, John Wilson Mackenzie of Rotterdam, Chemung County, New Jersey, + deceased, contracted with the General Government to General Sherman the + sum total of thirty barrels of beef—” + </p> + <p> + Well, it was as far as I could get. He had nothing to do with beef + contracts for General Sherman either. I began to think it was a curious + kind of government. It looked somewhat as if they wanted to get out of + paying for that beef. The following day I went to the Secretary of the + Interior. + </p> + <p> + I said, “Your Imperial Highness, on or about the 10th day of October—” + </p> + <p> + “That is sufficient, sir. I have heard of you before. Go, take your + infamous beef contract out of this establishment. The Interior Department + has nothing whatever to do with subsistence for the army.” + </p> + <p> + I went away. But I was exasperated now. I said I would haunt them; I would + infest every department of this iniquitous government till that contract + business was settled. I would collect that bill, or fall, as fell my + predecessors, trying. I assailed the Postmaster-General; I besieged the + Agricultural Department; I waylaid the Speaker of the House of + Representatives. They had nothing to do with army contracts for beef. I + moved upon the Commissioner of the Patent Office. + </p> + <p> + I said, “Your August Excellency, on or about—” + </p> + <p> + “Perdition! have you got here with your incendiary beef contract, at + last? We have nothing to do with beef contracts for the army, my dear sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is all very well—but somebody has got to pay for + that beef. It has got to be paid now, too, or I’ll confiscate this + old Patent Office and everything in it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sir—” + </p> + <p> + “It don’t make any difference, sir. The Patent Office is + liable for that beef, I reckon; and, liable or not liable, the Patent + Office has got to pay for it.” + </p> + <p> + Never mind the details. It ended in a fight. The Patent Office won. But I + found out something to my advantage. I was told that the Treasury + Department was the proper place for me to go to. I went there. I waited + two hours and a half, and then I was admitted to the First Lord of the + Treasury. + </p> + <p> + I said, “Most noble, grave, and reverend Signor, on or about the + 10th day of October, 1861, John Wilson Macken—” + </p> + <p> + “That is sufficient, sir. I have heard of you. Go to the First + Auditor of the Treasury.” + </p> + <p> + I did so. He sent me to the Second Auditor. The Second Auditor sent me to + the Third, and the Third sent me to the First Comptroller of the Corn-Beef + Division. This began to look like business. He examined his books and all + his loose papers, but found no minute of the beef contract. I went to the + Second Comptroller of the Corn-Beef Division. He examined his books and + his loose papers, but with no success. I was encouraged. During that week + I got as far as the Sixth Comptroller in that division; the next week I + got through the Claims Department; the third week I began and completed + the Mislaid Contracts Department, and got a foothold in the Dead Reckoning + Department. I finished that in three days. There was only one place left + for it now. I laid siege to the Commissioner of Odds and Ends. To his + clerk, rather—he was not there himself. There were sixteen beautiful + young ladies in the room, writing in books, and there were seven + well-favored young clerks showing them how. The young women smiled up over + their shoulders, and the clerks smiled back at them, and all went merry as + a marriage bell. Two or three clerks that were reading the newspapers + looked at me rather hard, but went on reading, and nobody said anything. + However, I had been used to this kind of alacrity from Fourth Assistant + Junior Clerks all through my eventful career, from the very day I entered + the first office of the Corn-Beef Bureau clear till I passed out of the + last one in the Dead Reckoning Division. I had got so accomplished by this + time that I could stand on one foot from the moment I entered an office + till a clerk spoke to me, without changing more than two, or maybe three, + times. + </p> + <p> + So I stood there till I had changed four different times. Then I said to + one of the clerks who was reading: + </p> + <p> + “Illustrious Vagrant, where is the Grand Turk?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir? whom do you mean? If you mean the Chief of + the Bureau, he is out.” + </p> + <p> + “Will he visit the harem to-day?” + </p> + <p> + The young man glared upon me awhile, and then went on reading his paper. + But I knew the ways of those clerks. I knew I was safe if he got through + before another New York mail arrived. He only had two more papers left. + After a while he finished them, and then he yawned and asked me what I + wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Renowned and honored Imbecile: on or about—” + </p> + <p> + “You are the beef-contract man. Give me your papers.” + </p> + <p> + He took them, and for a long time he ransacked his odds and ends. Finally + he found the Northwest Passage, as I regarded it—he found the long + lost record of that beef contract—he found the rock upon which so + many of my ancestors had split before they ever got to it. I was deeply + moved. And yet I rejoiced—for I had survived. I said with emotion, + “Give it me. The government will settle now.” He waved me + back, and said there was something yet to be done first. + </p> + <p> + “Where is this John Wilson Mackenzie?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Dead.” + </p> + <p> + “When did he die?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t die at all—he was killed.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Tomahawked.” + </p> + <p> + “Who tomahawked him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, an Indian, of course. You didn’t suppose it was the + superintendent of a Sunday-school, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. An Indian, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “The same.” + </p> + <p> + “Name of the Indian?” + </p> + <p> + “His name? I don’t know his name.” + </p> + <p> + “Must have his name. Who saw the tomahawking done?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “You were not present yourself, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Which you can see by my hair. I was absent. + </p> + <p> + “Then how do you know that Mackenzie is dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he certainly died at that time, and I have every reason to + believe that he has been dead ever since. I know he has, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + “We must have proofs. Have you got the Indian?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you must get him. Have you got the tomahawk?” + </p> + <p> + “I never thought of such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “You must get the tomahawk. You must produce the Indian and the + tomahawk. If Mackenzie’s death can be proven by these, you can then + go before the commission appointed to audit claims with some show of + getting your bill under such headway that your children may possibly live + to receive the money and enjoy it. But that man’s death must be + proven. However, I may as well tell you that the government will never pay + that transportation and those traveling expenses of the lamented + Mackenzie. It may possibly pay for the barrel of beef that Sherman’s + soldiers captured, if you can get a relief bill through Congress making an + appropriation for that purpose; but it will not pay for the twenty-nine + barrels the Indians ate.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is only a hundred dollars due me, and that isn’t + certain! After all Mackenzie’s travels in Europe, Asia, and America + with that beef; after all his trials and tribulations and transportation; + after the slaughter of all those innocents that tried to collect that + bill! Young man, why didn’t the First Comptroller of the Corn-Beef + Division tell me this?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t know anything about the genuineness of your claim.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t the Second tell me? why didn’t the Third? + why didn’t all those divisions and departments tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “None of them knew. We do things by routine here. You have followed + the routine and found out what you wanted to know. It is the best way. It + is the only way. It is very regular, and very slow, but it is very + certain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certain death.” It has been, to the most of our tribe. I + begin to feel that I, too, am called. + </p> + <p> + “Young man, you love the bright creature yonder with the gentle blue + eyes and the steel pens behind her ears—I see it in your soft + glances; you wish to marry her—but you are poor. Here, hold out your + hand—here is the beef contract; go, take her and be happy! Heaven + bless you, my children!” + </p> + <p> + This is all I know about the great beef contract that has created so much + talk in the community. The clerk to whom I bequeathed it died. I know + nothing further about the contract, or any one connected with it. I only + know that if a man lives long enough he can trace a thing through the + Circumlocution Office of Washington and find out, after much labor and + trouble and delay, that which he could have found out on the first day if + the business of the Circumlocution Office were as ingeniously systematized + as it would be if it were a great private mercantile institution. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="fisher" id="fisher"></a>THE CASE OF GEORGE FISHER + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p109.jpg (114K)" src="images/p109.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> —[Some years ago, about 1867, when this was first published, + few people believed it, but considered it a mere extravaganza. In these + latter days it seems hard to realize that there was ever a time when the + robbing of our government was a novelty. The very man who showed me + where to find the documents for this case was at that very time spending + hundreds of thousands of dollars in Washington for a mail steamship + concern, in the effort to procure a subsidy for the company—a fact + which was a long time in coming to the surface, but leaked out at last + and underwent Congressional investigation.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + This is history. It is not a wild extravaganza, like “John Wilson + Mackenzie’s Great Beef Contract,” but is a plain statement of + facts and circumstances with which the Congress of the United States has + interested itself from time to time during the long period of half a + century. + </p> + <p> + I will not call this matter of George Fisher’s a great deathless and + unrelenting swindle upon the government and people of the United States—for + it has never been so decided, and I hold that it is a grave and solemn + wrong for a writer to cast slurs or call names when such is the case—but + will simply present the evidence and let the reader deduce his own + verdict. Then we shall do nobody injustice, and our consciences shall be + clear. + </p> + <p> + On or about the 1st day of September, 1813, the Creek war being then in + progress in Florida, the crops, herds, and houses of Mr. George Fisher, a + citizen, were destroyed, either by the Indians or by the United States + troops in pursuit of them. By the terms of the law, if the Indians + destroyed the property, there was no relief for Fisher; but if the troops + destroyed it, the Government of the United States was debtor to Fisher for + the amount involved. + </p> + <p> + George Fisher must have considered that the Indians destroyed the + property, because, although he lived several years afterward, he does not + appear to have ever made any claim upon the government. + </p> + <p> + In the course of time Fisher died, and his widow married again. And by and + by, nearly twenty years after that dimly remembered raid upon Fisher’s + corn-fields, the widow Fisher’s new husband petitioned Congress for + pay for the property, and backed up the petition with many depositions and + affidavits which purported to prove that the troops, and not the Indians, + destroyed the property; that the troops, for some inscrutable reason, + deliberately burned down “houses” (or cabins) valued at $600, + the same belonging to a peaceable private citizen, and also destroyed + various other property belonging to the same citizen. But Congress + declined to believe that the troops were such idiots (after overtaking and + scattering a band of Indians proved to have been found destroying Fisher’s + property) as to calmly continue the work of destruction themselves; and + make a complete job of what the Indians had only commenced. So Congress + denied the petition of the heirs of George Fisher in 1832, and did not pay + them a cent. + </p> + <p> + We hear no more from them officially until 1848, sixteen years after their + first attempt on the Treasury, and a full generation after the death of + the man whose fields were destroyed. The new generation of Fisher heirs + then came forward and put in a bill for damages. The Second Auditor + awarded them $8,873, being half the damage sustained by Fisher. The + Auditor said the testimony showed that at least half the destruction was + done by the Indians “before the troops started in pursuit,” + and of course the government was not responsible for that half. + </p> + <p> + 2. That was in April, 1848. In December, 1848, the heirs of George Fisher, + deceased, came forward and pleaded for a “revision” of their + bill of damages. The revision was made, but nothing new could be found in + their favor except an error of $100 in the former calculation. However, in + order to keep up the spirits of the Fisher family, the Auditor concluded + to go back and allow interest from the date of the first petition (1832) + to the date when the bill of damages was awarded. This sent the Fishers + home happy with sixteen years’ interest on $8,873—the same + amounting to $8,997.94. Total, $17,870.94. + </p> + <p> + 3. For an entire year the suffering Fisher family remained quiet—even + satisfied, after a fashion. Then they swooped down upon the government + with their wrongs once more. That old patriot, Attorney-General Toucey, + burrowed through the musty papers of the Fishers and discovered one more + chance for the desolate orphans—interest on that original award of + $8,873 from date of destruction of the property (1813) up to 1832! Result, + $10,004.89 for the indigent Fishers. So now we have: First, $8,873 + damages; second, interest on it from 1832 to 1848, $8,997.94; third, + interest on it dated back to 1813, $10,004.89. Total, $27,875.83! What + better investment for a great-grandchild than to get the Indians to burn a + corn-field for him sixty or seventy years before his birth, and plausibly + lay it on lunatic United States troops? + </p> + <p> + 4. Strange as it may seem, the Fishers let Congress alone for five years—or, + what is perhaps more likely, failed to make themselves heard by Congress + for that length of time. But at last, in 1854, they got a hearing. They + persuaded Congress to pass an act requiring the Auditor to re-examine + their case. But this time they stumbled upon the misfortune of an honest + Secretary of the Treasury (Mr. James Guthrie), and he spoiled everything. + He said in very plain language that the Fishers were not only not entitled + to another cent, but that those children of many sorrows and acquainted + with grief had been paid too much already. + </p> + <p> + 5. Therefore another interval of rest and silence ensued—an interval + which lasted four years—viz till 1858. The “right man in the + right place” was then Secretary of War—John B. Floyd, of + peculiar renown! Here was a master intellect; here was the very man to + succor the suffering heirs of dead and forgotten Fisher. They came up from + Florida with a rush—a great tidal wave of Fishers freighted with the + same old musty documents about the same immortal corn-fields of their + ancestor. They straight-way got an act passed transferring the Fisher + matter from the dull Auditor to the ingenious Floyd. What did Floyd do? He + said, “IT WAS PROVED that the Indians destroyed everything they + could before the troops entered in pursuit.” He considered, + therefore, that what they destroyed must have consisted of “the + houses with all their contents, and the liquor” (the most trifling + part of the destruction, and set down at only $3,200 all told), and that + the government troops then drove them off and calmly proceeded to destroy:— + </p> + <p> + Two hundred and twenty acres of corn in the field, thirty-five acres of + wheat, and nine hundred and eighty-six head of live stock! [What a + singularly intelligent army we had in those days, according to Mr. Floyd—though + not according to the Congress of 1832.] + </p> + <p> + So Mr. Floyd decided that the Government was not responsible for that + $3,200 worth of rubbish which the Indians destroyed, but was responsible + for the property destroyed by the troops—which property consisted of + (I quote from the printed United States Senate document): + </p> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + <td> + Dollars + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Corn at Bassett’s Creek, + </td> + <td> + 3,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Cattle, + </td> + <td> + 5,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Stock hogs, + </td> + <td> + 1,050 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Drove hogs, + </td> + <td> + 1,204 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Wheat, + </td> + <td> + 350 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Hides, + </td> + <td> + 4,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Corn on the Alabama River, + </td> + <td> + 3,500 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Total, + </td> + <td> + 18,104 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + That sum, in his report, Mr. Floyd calls the “full value of the + property destroyed by the troops.” + </p> + <p> + He allows that sum to the starving Fishers, TOGETHER WITH INTEREST FROM + 1813. From this new sum total the amounts already paid to the Fishers were + deducted, and then the cheerful remainder (a fraction under forty thousand + dollars) was handed to them and again they retired to Florida in a + condition of temporary tranquillity. Their ancestor’s farm had now + yielded them altogether nearly sixty-seven thousand dollars in cash. + </p> + <p> + 6. Does the reader suppose that that was the end of it? Does he suppose + those diffident Fishers were satisfied? Let the evidence show. The Fishers + were quiet just two years. Then they came swarming up out of the fertile + swamps of Florida with their same old documents, and besieged Congress + once more. Congress capitulated on the 1st of June, 1860, and instructed + Mr. Floyd to overhaul those papers again, and pay that bill. A Treasury + clerk was ordered to go through those papers and report to Mr. Floyd what + amount was still due the emaciated Fishers. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p113.jpg (60K)" src="images/p113.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + This clerk (I can produce him whenever he is wanted) discovered what was + apparently a glaring and recent forgery in the papers; whereby a witness’s + testimony as to the price of corn in Florida in 1813 was made to name + double the amount which that witness had originally specified as the + price! The clerk not only called his superior’s attention to this + thing, but in making up his brief of the case called particular attention + to it in writing. That part of the brief never got before Congress, nor + has Congress ever yet had a hint of forgery existing among the Fisher + papers. Nevertheless, on the basis of the double prices (and totally + ignoring the clerk’s assertion that the figures were manifestly and + unquestionably a recent forgery), Mr. Floyd remarks in his new report that + “the testimony, particularly in regard to the corn crops, DEMANDS A + MUCH HIGHER ALLOWANCE than any heretofore made by the Auditor or myself.” + So he estimates the crop at sixty bushels to the acre (double what Florida + acres produce), and then virtuously allows pay for only half the crop, but + allows two dollars and a half a bushel for that half, when there are rusty + old books and documents in the Congressional library to show just what the + Fisher testimony showed before the forgery—viz., that in the fall of + 1813 corn was only worth from $1.25 to $1.50 a bushel. Having accomplished + this, what does Mr. Floyd do next? Mr. Floyd (“with an earnest + desire to execute truly the legislative will,” as he piously + remarks) goes to work and makes out an entirely new bill of Fisher + damages, and in this new bill he placidly ignores the Indians altogether—puts + no particle of the destruction of the Fisher property upon them, but, even + repenting him of charging them with burning the cabins and drinking the + whisky and breaking the crockery, lays the entire damage at the door of + the imbecile United States troops down to the very last item! And not only + that, but uses the forgery to double the loss of corn at “Bassett’s + Creek,” and uses it again to absolutely treble the loss of corn on + the “Alabama River.” This new and ably conceived and executed + bill of Mr. Floyd’s figures up as follows (I copy again from the + printed United States Senate document): + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + The United States in account with the<br /> legal representatives of George + Fisher, deceased. + </h3> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + 1813— + </td> + <td> + DOL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 550 head of cattle, at 10 dollars, + </td> + <td> + 5,500 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 86 head of drove hogs, + </td> + <td> + 1,204 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 350 head of stock hogs, + </td> + <td> + 1,750 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 100 ACRES OF CORN ON BASSETT’S CREEK, + </td> + <td> + 6,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 8 barrels of whisky, + </td> + <td> + 350 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 2 barrels of brandy, + </td> + <td> + 280 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 1 barrel of rum, + </td> + <td> + 70 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To dry-goods and merchandise in store, + </td> + <td> + 1,100 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 35 acres of wheat, + </td> + <td> + 350 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 2,000 hides, + </td> + <td> + 4,000 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To furs and hats in store, + </td> + <td> + 600 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To crockery ware in store, + </td> + <td> + 100 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To smith’s and carpenter’s tools, + </td> + <td> + 250 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To houses burned and destroyed, + </td> + <td> + 600 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 4 dozen bottles of wine, + </td> + <td> + 48 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + 1814— + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To 120 acres of corn on Alabama River, + </td> + <td> + 9,500 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To crops of peas, fodder, etc + </td> + <td> + 3,250 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Total, + </td> + <td> + 34,952 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To interest on $22,202, from July 1813 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + to November 1860, 47 years and 4 months, + </td> + <td> + 63,053.68 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To interest on $12,750, from September + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + 1814 to November 1860, 46 years and 2 months, + </td> + <td> + 35,317.50 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Total, + </td> + <td> + 133,323.18 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + He puts everything in this time. He does not even allow that the Indians + destroyed the crockery or drank the four dozen bottles of (currant) wine. + When it came to supernatural comprehensiveness in “gobbling,” + John B. Floyd was without his equal, in his own or any other generation. + Subtracting from the above total the $67,000 already paid to George Fisher’s + implacable heirs, Mr. Floyd announced that the government was still + indebted to them in the sum of sixty-six thousand five hundred and + nineteen dollars and eighty-five cents, “which,” Mr. Floyd + complacently remarks, “will be paid, accordingly, to the + administrator of the estate of George Fisher, deceased, or to his attorney + in fact.” + </p> + <p> + But, sadly enough for the destitute orphans, a new President came in just + at this time, Buchanan and Floyd went out, and they never got their money. + The first thing Congress did in 1861 was to rescind the resolution of June + 1, 1860, under which Mr. Floyd had been ciphering. Then Floyd (and + doubtless the heirs of George Fisher likewise) had to give up financial + business for a while, and go into the Confederate army and serve their + country. + </p> + <p> + Were the heirs of George Fisher killed? No. They are back now at this very + time (July, 1870), beseeching Congress through that blushing and diffident + creature, Garrett Davis, to commence making payments again on their + interminable and insatiable bill of damages for corn and whisky destroyed + by a gang of irresponsible Indians, so long ago that even government + red-tape has failed to keep consistent and intelligent track of it. + </p> + <p> + Now the above are facts. They are history. Any one who doubts it can send + to the Senate Document Department of the Capitol for H. R. Ex. Doc. No. + 21, 36th Congress, 2d Session; and for S. Ex. Doc. No. 106, 41st Congress, + 2d Session, and satisfy himself. The whole case is set forth in the first + volume of the Court of Claims Reports. + </p> + <p> + It is my belief that as long as the continent of America holds together, + the heirs of George Fisher, deceased, will still make pilgrimages to + Washington from the swamps of Florida, to plead for just a little more + cash on their bill of damages (even when they received the last of that + sixty-seven thousand dollars, they said it was only one fourth what the + government owed them on that fruitful corn-field), and as long as they + choose to come they will find Garrett Davises to drag their vampire + schemes before Congress. This is not the only hereditary fraud (if fraud + it is—which I have before repeatedly remarked is not proven) that is + being quietly handed down from generation to generation of fathers and + sons, through the persecuted Treasury of the United States. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="persecution" id="persecution"></a>DISGRACEFUL PERSECUTION OF A + BOY + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + In San Francisco, the other day, “A well-dressed boy, on his way to + Sunday-school, was arrested and thrown into the city prison for stoning + Chinamen.” + </p> + <p> + What a commentary is this upon human justice! What sad prominence it gives + to our human disposition to tyrannize over the weak! San Francisco has + little right to take credit to herself for her treatment of this poor boy. + What had the child’s education been? How should he suppose it was + wrong to stone a Chinaman? Before we side against him, along with outraged + San Francisco, let us give him a chance—let us hear the testimony + for the defense. + </p> + <p> + He was a “well-dressed” boy, and a Sunday-school scholar, and + therefore the chances are that his parents were intelligent, well-to-do + people, with just enough natural villainy in their composition to make + them yearn after the daily papers, and enjoy them; and so this boy had + opportunities to learn all through the week how to do right, as well as on + Sunday. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that he found out that the great commonwealth of + California imposes an unlawful mining-tax upon John the foreigner, and + allows Patrick the foreigner to dig gold for nothing—probably + because the degraded Mongol is at no expense for whisky, and the refined + Celt cannot exist without it. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that he found out that a respectable number of the + tax-gatherers—it would be unkind to say all of them—collect + the tax twice, instead of once; and that, inasmuch as they do it solely to + discourage Chinese immigration into the mines, it is a thing that is much + applauded, and likewise regarded as being singularly facetious. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that he found out that when a white man robs a + sluice-box (by the term white man is meant Spaniards, Mexicans, + Portuguese, Irish, Hondurans, Peruvians, Chileans, etc., etc.), they make + him leave the camp; and when a Chinaman does that thing, they hang him. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that he found out that in many districts of the vast + Pacific coast, so strong is the wild, free love of justice in the hearts + of the people, that whenever any secret and mysterious crime is committed, + they say, “Let justice be done, though the heavens fall,” and + go straightway and swing a Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that he found out that by studying one half of each day’s + “local items,” it would appear that the police of San + Francisco were either asleep or dead, and by studying the other half it + would seem that the reporters were gone mad with admiration of the energy, + the virtue, the high effectiveness, and the dare-devil intrepidity of that + very police-making exultant mention of how “the Argus-eyed officer + So-and-so” captured a wretched knave of a Chinaman who was stealing + chickens, and brought him gloriously to the city prison; and how “the + gallant officer Such-and-such-a-one” quietly kept an eye on the + movements of an “unsuspecting, almond-eyed son of Confucius” + (your reporter is nothing if not facetious), following him around with + that far-off look of vacancy and unconsciousness always so finely affected + by that inscrutable being, the forty-dollar policeman, during a waking + interval, and captured him at last in the very act of placing his hands in + a suspicious manner upon a paper of tacks, left by the owner in an exposed + situation; and how one officer performed this prodigious thing, and + another officer that, and another the other—and pretty much every + one of these performances having for a dazzling central incident a + Chinaman guilty of a shilling’s worth of crime, an unfortunate, + whose misdemeanor must be hurrahed into something enormous in order to + keep the public from noticing how many really important rascals went + uncaptured in the mean time, and how overrated those glorified policemen + actually are. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that the boy found out that the legislature, being + aware that the Constitution has made America an asylum for the poor and + the oppressed of all nations, and that, therefore, the poor and oppressed + who fly to our shelter must not be charged a disabling admission fee, made + a law that every Chinaman, upon landing, must be vaccinated upon the + wharf, and pay to the state’s appointed officer ten dollars for the + service, when there are plenty of doctors in San Francisco who would be + glad enough to do it for him for fifty cents. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that the boy found out that a Chinaman had no rights + that any man was bound to respect; that he had no sorrows that any man was + bound to pity; that neither his life nor his liberty was worth the + purchase of a penny when a white man needed a scapegoat; that nobody loved + Chinamen, nobody befriended them, nobody spared them suffering when it was + convenient to inflict it; everybody, individuals, communities, the majesty + of the state itself, joined in hating, abusing, and persecuting these + humble strangers. + </p> + <p> + And, therefore, what could have been more natural than for this + sunny-hearted-boy, tripping along to Sunday-school, with his mind teeming + with freshly learned incentives to high and virtuous action, to say to + himself: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there goes a Chinaman! God will not love me if I do not stone + him.” + </p> + <p> + And for this he was arrested and put in the city jail. + </p> + <p> + Everything conspired to teach him that it was a high and holy thing to + stone a Chinaman, and yet he no sooner attempts to do his duty than he is + punished for it—he, poor chap, who has been aware all his life that + one of the principal recreations of the police, out toward the Gold + Refinery, is to look on with tranquil enjoyment while the butchers of + Brannan Street set their dogs on unoffending Chinamen, and make them flee + for their lives. + </p> + <p> + —[I have many such memories in my mind, but am thinking just at + present of one particular one, where the Brannan Street butchers set their + dogs on a Chinaman who was quietly passing with a basket of clothes on his + head; and while the dogs mutilated his flesh, a butcher increased the + hilarity of the occasion by knocking some of the Chinaman’s teeth + down his throat with half a brick. This incident sticks in my memory with + a more malevolent tenacity, perhaps, on account of the fact that I was in + the employ of a San Francisco journal at the time, and was not allowed to + publish it because it might offend some of the peculiar element that + subscribed for the paper.] + </p> + <p> + Keeping in mind the tuition in the humanities which the entire “Pacific + coast” gives its youth, there is a very sublimity of incongruity in + the virtuous flourish with which the good city fathers of San Francisco + proclaim (as they have lately done) that “The police are positively + ordered to arrest all boys, of every description and wherever found, who + engage in assaulting Chinamen.” + </p> + <p> + Still, let us be truly glad they have made the order, notwithstanding its + inconsistency; and let us rest perfectly confident the police are glad, + too. Because there is no personal peril in arresting boys, provided they + be of the small kind, and the reporters will have to laud their + performances just as loyally as ever, or go without items. + </p> + <p> + The new form for local items in San Francisco will now be: “The + ever-vigilant and efficient officer So-and-so succeeded, yesterday + afternoon, in arresting Master Tommy Jones, after a determined resistance,” + etc., etc., followed by the customary statistics and final hurrah, with + its unconscious sarcasm: “We are happy in being able to state that + this is the forty-seventh boy arrested by this gallant officer since the + new ordinance went into effect. The most extraordinary activity prevails + in the police department. Nothing like it has been seen since we can + remember.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="spirited" id="spirited"></a>THE JUDGE’S “SPIRITED + WOMAN” + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p121.jpg (64K)" src="images/p121.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “I was sitting here,” said the judge, “in this old + pulpit, holding court, and we were trying a big, wicked-looking Spanish + desperado for killing the husband of a bright, pretty Mexican woman. It + was a lazy summer day, and an awfully long one, and the witnesses were + tedious. None of us took any interest in the trial except that nervous, + uneasy devil of a Mexican woman—because you know how they love and + how they hate, and this one had loved her husband with all her might, and + now she had boiled it all down into hate, and stood here spitting it at + that Spaniard with her eyes; and I tell you she would stir me up, too, + with a little of her summer lightning, occasionally. Well, I had my coat + off and my heels up, lolling and sweating, and smoking one of those + cabbage cigars the San Francisco people used to think were good enough for + us in those times; and the lawyers they all had their coats off, and were + smoking and whittling, and the witnesses the same, and so was the + prisoner. Well, the fact is, there warn’t any interest in a murder + trial then, because the fellow was always brought in not guilty,’ + the jury expecting him to do as much for them some time; and, although the + evidence was straight and square against this Spaniard, we knew we could + not convict him without seeming to be rather high-handed and sort of + reflecting on every gentleman in the community; for there warn’t any + carriages and liveries then, and so the only ‘style’ there + was, was to keep your private graveyard. But that woman seemed to have her + heart set on hanging that Spaniard; and you’d ought to have seen how + she would glare on him a minute, and then look up at me in her pleading + way, and then turn and for the next five minutes search the jury’s + faces, and by and by drop her face in her hands for just a little while as + if she was most ready to give up; but out she’d come again directly, + and be as live and anxious as ever. But when the jury announced the + verdict—Not Guilty—and I told the prisoner he was acquitted + and free to go, that woman rose up till she appeared to be as tall and + grand as a seventy-four-gun ship, and says she: + </p> + <p> + “‘Judge, do I understand you to say that this man is not + guilty that murdered my husband without any cause before my own eyes and + my little children’s, and that all has been done to him that ever + justice and the law can do?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘The same,’ says I. + </p> + <p> + “And then what do you reckon she did? Why, she turned on that + smirking Spanish fool like a wildcat, and out with a ‘navy’ + and shot him dead in open court!” + </p> + <p> + “That was spirited, I am willing to admit.” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t it, though?” said the judge admiringly. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I adjourned court + right on the spot, and we put on our coats and went out and took up a + collection for her and her cubs, and sent them over the mountains to their + friends. Ah, she was a spirited wench!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="information" id="information"></a>INFORMATION WANTED + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p123.jpg (136K)" src="images/p123.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + "WASHINGTON, + December 10, 1867. + </p> + <p> + “Could you give me any information respecting such islands, if any, + as the government is going to purchase?” + </p> + <p> + It is an uncle of mine that wants to know. He is an industrious man and + well disposed, and wants to make a living in an honest, humble way, but + more especially he wants to be quiet. He wishes to settle down, and be + quiet and unostentatious. He has been to the new island St. Thomas, but he + says he thinks things are unsettled there. He went there early with an + attache of the State Department, who was sent down with money to pay for + the island. My uncle had his money in the same box, and so when they went + ashore, getting a receipt, the sailors broke open the box and took all the + money, not making any distinction between government money, which was + legitimate money to be stolen, and my uncle’s, which was his own + private property, and should have been respected. But he came home and got + some more and went back. And then he took the fever. There are seven kinds + of fever down there, you know; and, as his blood was out of order by + reason of loss of sleep and general wear and tear of mind, he failed to + cure the first fever, and then somehow he got the other six. He is not a + kind of man that enjoys fevers, though he is well meaning and always does + what he thinks is right, and so he was a good deal annoyed when it + appeared he was going to die. + </p> + <p> + But he worried through, and got well and started a farm. He fenced it in, + and the next day that great storm came on and washed the most of it over + to Gibraltar, or around there somewhere. He only said, in his patient way, + that it was gone, and he wouldn’t bother about trying to find out + where it went to, though it was his opinion it went to Gibraltar. + </p> + <p> + Then he invested in a mountain, and started a farm up there, so as to be + out of the way when the sea came ashore again. It was a good mountain, and + a good farm, but it wasn’t any use; an earthquake came the next + night and shook it all down. It was all fragments, you know, and so mixed + up with another man’s property that he could not tell which were his + fragments without going to law; and he would not do that, because his main + object in going to St. Thomas was to be quiet. All that he wanted was to + settle down and be quiet. + </p> + <p> + He thought it all over, and finally he concluded to try the low ground + again, especially as he wanted to start a brickyard this time. He bought a + flat, and put out a hundred thousand bricks to dry preparatory to baking + them. But luck appeared to be against him. A volcano shoved itself through + there that night, and elevated his brickyard about two thousand feet in + the air. It irritated him a good deal. He has been up there, and he says + the bricks are all baked right enough, but he can’t get them down. + At first, he thought maybe the government would get the bricks down for + him, because since government bought the island, it ought to protect the + property where a man has invested in good faith; but all he wants is + quiet, and so he is not going to apply for the subsidy he was thinking + about. + </p> + <p> + He went back there last week in a couple of ships of war, to prospect + around the coast for a safe place for a farm where he could be quiet; but + a great “tidal wave” came, and hoisted both of the ships out + into one of the interior counties, and he came near losing his life. So he + has given up prospecting in a ship, and is discouraged. + </p> + <p> + Well, now he don’t know what to do. He has tried Alaska; but the + bears kept after him so much, and kept him so much on the jump, as it + were, that he had to leave the country. He could not be quiet there with + those bears prancing after him all the time. That is how he came to go to + the new island we have bought—St. Thomas. But he is getting to think + St. Thomas is not quiet enough for a man of his turn of mind, and that is + why he wishes me to find out if government is likely to buy some more + islands shortly. He has heard that government is thinking about buying + Porto Rico. If that is true, he wishes to try Porto Rico, if it is a quiet + place. How is Porto Rico for his style of man? Do you think the government + will buy it? + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="oldboys" id="oldboys"></a>SOME LEARNED FABLES,<br /> FOR GOOD OLD + BOYS AND GIRLS<br /> IN THREE PARTS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p126.jpg (111K)" src="images/p126.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + PART FIRST<br /> <br /> HOW THE ANIMALS OF THE WOOD SENT OUT A SCIENTIFIC + EXPEDITION + </h3> + <p> + Once the creatures of the forest held a great convention and appointed a + commission consisting of the most illustrious scientists among them to go + forth, clear beyond the forest and out into the unknown and unexplored + world, to verify the truth of the matters already taught in their schools + and colleges and also to make discoveries. It was the most imposing + enterprise of the kind the nation had ever embarked in. True, the + government had once sent Dr. Bull Frog, with a picked crew, to hunt for a + northwesterly passage through the swamp to the right-hand corner of the + wood, and had since sent out many expeditions to hunt for Dr. Bull Frog; + but they never could find him, and so government finally gave him up and + ennobled his mother to show its gratitude for the services her son had + rendered to science. And once government sent Sir Grass Hopper to hunt for + the sources of the rill that emptied into the swamp; and afterward sent + out many expeditions to hunt for Sir Grass, and at last they were + successful—they found his body, but if he had discovered the sources + meantime, he did not let on. So government acted handsomely by deceased, + and many envied his funeral. + </p> + <p> + But these expeditions were trifles compared with the present one; for this + one comprised among its servants the very greatest among the learned; and + besides it was to go to the utterly unvisited regions believed to lie + beyond the mighty forest—as we have remarked before. How the members + were banqueted, and glorified, and talked about! Everywhere that one of + them showed himself, straightway there was a crowd to gape and stare at + him. + </p> + <p> + Finally they set off, and it was a sight to see the long procession of + dry-land Tortoises heavily laden with savants, scientific instruments, + Glow-Worms and Fire-Flies for signal service, provisions, Ants and + Tumble-Bugs to fetch and carry and delve, Spiders to carry the surveying + chain and do other engineering duty, and so forth and so on; and after the + Tortoises came another long train of ironclads—stately and spacious + Mud Turtles for marine transportation service; and from every Tortoise and + every Turtle flaunted a flaming gladiolus or other splendid banner; at the + head of the column a great band of Bumble-Bees, Mosquitoes, Katy-Dids, and + Crickets discoursed martial music; and the entire train was under the + escort and protection of twelve picked regiments of the Army Worm. + </p> + <p> + At the end of three weeks the expedition emerged from the forest and + looked upon the great Unknown World. Their eyes were greeted with an + impressive spectacle. A vast level plain stretched before them, watered by + a sinuous stream; and beyond there towered up against the sky a long and + lofty barrier of some kind, they did not know what. The Tumble-Bug said he + believed it was simply land tilted up on its edge, because he knew he + could see trees on it. But Professor Snail and the others said: + </p> + <p> + “You are hired to dig, sir—that is all. We need your muscle, + not your brains. When we want your opinion on scientific matters, we will + hasten to let you know. Your coolness is intolerable, too—loafing + about here meddling with august matters of learning, when the other + laborers are pitching camp. Go along and help handle the baggage.” + </p> + <p> + The Tumble-Bug turned on his heel uncrushed, unabashed, observing to + himself, “If it isn’t land tilted up, let me die the death of + the unrighteous.” + </p> + <p> + Professor Bull Frog (nephew of the late explorer) said he believed the + ridge was the wall that inclosed the earth. He continued: + </p> + <p> + “Our fathers have left us much learning, but they had not traveled + far, and so we may count this a noble new discovery. We are safe for + renown now, even though our labors began and ended with this single + achievement. I wonder what this wall is built of? Can it be fungus? Fungus + is an honorable good thing to build a wall of.” + </p> + <p> + Professor Snail adjusted his field-glass and examined the rampart + critically. Finally he said: + </p> + <p> + “‘The fact that it is not diaphanous convinces me that it is a + dense vapor formed by the calorification of ascending moisture + dephlogisticated by refraction. A few endiometrical experiments would + confirm this, but it is not necessary. The thing is obvious.” + </p> + <p> + So he shut up his glass and went into his shell to make a note of the + discovery of the world’s end, and the nature of it. + </p> + <p> + “Profound mind!” said Professor Angle-Worm to Professor + Field-Mouse; “profound mind! nothing can long remain a mystery to + that august brain.” + </p> + <p> + Night drew on apace, the sentinel crickets were posted, the Glow-Worm and + Fire-Fly lamps were lighted, and the camp sank to silence and sleep. After + breakfast in the morning, the expedition moved on. About noon a great + avenue was reached, which had in it two endless parallel bars of some kind + of hard black substance, raised the height of the tallest Bull Frog above + the general level. The scientists climbed up on these and examined and + tested them in various ways. They walked along them for a great distance, + but found no end and no break in them. They could arrive at no decision. + There was nothing in the records of science that mentioned anything of + this kind. But at last the bald and venerable geographer, Professor Mud + Turtle, a person who, born poor, and of a drudging low family, had, by his + own native force raised himself to the headship of the geographers of his + generation, said: + </p> + <p> + “‘My friends, we have indeed made a discovery here. We have + found in a palpable, compact, and imperishable state what the wisest of + our fathers always regarded as a mere thing of the imagination. Humble + yourselves, my friends, for we stand in a majestic presence. These are + parallels of latitude!” + </p> + <p> + Every heart and every head was bowed, so awful, so sublime was the + magnitude of the discovery. Many shed tears. + </p> + <p> + The camp was pitched and the rest of the day given up to writing + voluminous accounts of the marvel, and correcting astronomical tables to + fit it. Toward midnight a demoniacal shriek was heard, then a clattering + and rumbling noise, and the next instant a vast terrific eye shot by, with + a long tail attached, and disappeared in the gloom, still uttering + triumphant shrieks. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p129.jpg (36K)" src="images/p129.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The poor camp laborers were stricken to the heart with fright, and + stampeded for the high grass in a body. But not the scientists. They had + no superstitions. They calmly proceeded to exchange theories. The ancient + geographer’s opinion was asked. He went into his shell and + deliberated long and profoundly. When he came out at last, they all knew + by his worshiping countenance that he brought light. Said he: + </p> + <p> + “Give thanks for this stupendous thing which we have been permitted + to witness. It is the Vernal Equinox!” + </p> + <p> + There were shoutings and great rejoicings. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the Angle-Worm, uncoiling after reflection, + “this is dead summer-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the Turtle, “we are far from our + region; the season differs with the difference of time between the two + points.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, true. True enough. But it is night. How should the sun pass in + the night?” + </p> + <p> + “In these distant regions he doubtless passes always in the night at + this hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, doubtless that is true. But it being night, how is it that we + could see him?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a great mystery. I grant that. But I am persuaded that the + humidity of the atmosphere in these remote regions is such that particles + of daylight adhere to the disk and it was by aid of these that we were + enabled to see the sun in the dark.” + </p> + <p> + This was deemed satisfactory, and due entry was made of the decision. + </p> + <p> + But about this moment those dreadful shriekings were heard again; again + the rumbling and thundering came speeding up out of the night; and once + more a flaming great eye flashed by and lost itself in gloom and distance. + </p> + <p> + The camp laborers gave themselves up for lost. The savants were sorely + perplexed. Here was a marvel hard to account for. They thought and they + talked, they talked and they thought. Finally the learned and aged Lord + Grand-Daddy-Longlegs, who had been sitting in deep study, with his slender + limbs crossed and his stemmy arms folded, said: + </p> + <p> + “Deliver your opinions, brethren, and then I will tell my thought—for + I think I have solved this problem.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it, good your lordship,” piped the weak treble of the + wrinkled and withered Professor Woodlouse, “for we shall hear from + your lordship’s lips naught but wisdom.” [Here the speaker + threw in a mess of trite, threadbare, exasperating quotations from the + ancient poets and philosophers, delivering them with unction in the + sounding grandeurs of the original tongues, they being from the Mastodon, + the Dodo, and other dead languages.] “Perhaps I ought not to presume + to meddle with matters pertaining to astronomy at all, in such a presence + as this, I who have made it the business of my life to delve only among + the riches of the extinct languages and unearth the opulence of their + ancient lore; but still, as unacquainted as I am with the noble science of + astronomy, I beg with deference and humility to suggest that inasmuch as + the last of these wonderful apparitions proceeded in exactly the opposite + direction from that pursued by the first, which you decide to be the + Vernal Equinox, and greatly resembled it in all particulars, is it not + possible, nay certain, that this last is the Autumnal Equi—” + </p> + <p> + “O-o-o!” “O-o-o! go to bed! go to bed!” with + annoyed derision from everybody. So the poor old Woodlouse retreated out + of sight, consumed with shame. + </p> + <p> + Further discussion followed, and then the united voice of the commission + begged Lord Longlegs to speak. He said: + </p> + <p> + “Fellow-scientists, it is my belief that we have witnessed a thing + which has occurred in perfection but once before in the knowledge of + created beings. It is a phenomenon of inconceivable importance and + interest, view it as one may, but its interest to us is vastly heightened + by an added knowledge of its nature which no scholar has heretofore + possessed or even suspected. This great marvel which we have just + witnessed, fellow-savants (it almost takes my breath away), is nothing + less than the transit of Venus!” + </p> + <p> + Every scholar sprang to his feet pale with astonishment. Then ensued + tears, handshakings, frenzied embraces, and the most extravagant + jubilations of every sort. But by and by, as emotion began to retire + within bounds, and reflection to return to the front, the accomplished + Chief Inspector Lizard observed: + </p> + <p> + “But how is this? Venus should traverse the sun’s surface, not + the earth’s.” + </p> + <p> + The arrow went home. It carried sorrow to the breast of every apostle of + learning there, for none could deny that this was a formidable criticism. + But tranquilly the venerable Duke crossed his limbs behind his ears and + said: + </p> + <p> + “My friend has touched the marrow of our mighty discovery. Yes—all + that have lived before us thought a transit of Venus consisted of a flight + across the sun’s face; they thought it, they maintained it, they + honestly believed it, simple hearts, and were justified in it by the + limitations of their knowledge; but to us has been granted the inestimable + boon of proving that the transit occurs across the earth’s face, for + we have SEEN it!” + </p> + <p> + The assembled wisdom sat in speechless adoration of this imperial + intellect. All doubts had instantly departed, like night before the + lightning. + </p> + <p> + The Tumble-Bug had just intruded, unnoticed. He now came reeling forward + among the scholars, familiarly slapping first one and then another on the + shoulder, saying “Nice (’ic) nice old boy!” and smiling + a smile of elaborate content. Arrived at a good position for speaking, he + put his left arm akimbo with his knuckles planted in his hip just under + the edge of his cut-away coat, bent his right leg, placing his toe on the + ground and resting his heel with easy grace against his left shin, puffed + out his aldermanic stomach, opened his lips, leaned his right elbow on + Inspector Lizard’s shoulder, and— + </p> + <p> + But the shoulder was indignantly withdrawn and the hard-handed son of toil + went to earth. He floundered a bit, but came up smiling, arranged his + attitude with the same careful detail as before, only choosing Professor + Dogtick’s shoulder for a support, opened his lips and— + </p> + <p> + Went to earth again. He presently scrambled up once more, still smiling, + made a loose effort to brush the dust off his coat and legs, but a smart + pass of his hand missed entirely, and the force of the unchecked impulse + slewed him suddenly around, twisted his legs together, and projected him, + limber and sprawling, into the lap of the Lord Longlegs. Two or three + scholars sprang forward, flung the low creature head over heels into a + corner, and reinstated the patrician, smoothing his ruffled dignity with + many soothing and regretful speeches. Professor Bull Frog roared out: + </p> + <p> + “No more of this, sirrah Tumble-Bug! Say your say and then get you + about your business with speed! Quick—what is your errand? Come move + off a trifle; you smell like a stable; what have you been at?” + </p> + <p> + “Please (’ic!) please your worship I chanced to light upon a + find. But no m(e-uck!) matter ’bout that. There’s b(’ic + !) been another find which—beg pardon, your honors, what was that + th(’ic!) thing that ripped by here first?” + </p> + <p> + “It was the Vernal Equinox.” + </p> + <p> + “Inf(’ic!)fernal equinox. ’At’s all right. D(’ic + !) Dunno him. What’s other one?” + </p> + <p> + “The transit of Venus. + </p> + <p> + “G(’ic !) Got me again. No matter. Las’ one dropped + something.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed! Good luck! Good news! Quick what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “M(’ic!) Mosey out ’n’ see. It’ll pay.” + </p> + <p> + No more votes were taken for four-and-twenty hours. Then the following + entry was made: + </p> + <p> + “The commission went in a body to view the find. It was found to + consist of a hard, smooth, huge object with a rounded summit surmounted by + a short upright projection resembling a section of a cabbage stalk divided + transversely. This projection was not solid, but was a hollow cylinder + plugged with a soft woody substance unknown to our region—that is, + it had been so plugged, but unfortunately this obstruction had been + heedlessly removed by Norway Rat, Chief of the Sappers and Miners, before + our arrival. The vast object before us, so mysteriously conveyed from the + glittering domains of space, was found to be hollow and nearly filled with + a pungent liquid of a brownish hue, like rainwater that has stood for some + time. And such a spectacle as met our view! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p133.jpg (37K)" src="images/p133.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Norway Rat was perched upon the summit engaged in thrusting his tail into + the cylindrical projection, drawing it out dripping, permitting the + struggling multitude of laborers to suck the end of it, then straightway + reinserting it and delivering the fluid to the mob as before. Evidently + this liquor had strangely potent qualities; for all that partook of it + were immediately exalted with great and pleasurable emotions, and went + staggering about singing ribald songs, embracing, fighting, dancing, + discharging irruptions of profanity, and defying all authority. Around us + struggled a massed and uncontrolled mob—uncontrolled and likewise + uncontrollable, for the whole army, down to the very sentinels, were mad + like the rest, by reason of the drink. We were seized upon by these + reckless creatures, and within the hour we, even we, were + undistinguishable from the rest—the demoralization was complete and + universal. In time the camp wore itself out with its orgies and sank into + a stolid and pitiable stupor, in whose mysterious bonds rank was forgotten + and strange bedfellows made, our eyes, at the resurrection, being blasted + and our souls petrified with the incredible spectacle of that intolerable + stinking scavenger, the Tumble-Bug, and the illustrious patrician my Lord + Grand Daddy, Duke of Longlegs, lying soundly steeped in sleep, and clasped + lovingly in each other’s arms, the like whereof hath not been seen + in all the ages that tradition compasseth, and doubtless none shall ever + in this world find faith to master the belief of it save only we that have + beheld the damnable and unholy vision. Thus inscrutable be the ways of + God, whose will be done! + </p> + <p> + “This day, by order, did the engineer-in-chief, Herr Spider, rig the + necessary tackle for the overturning of the vast reservoir, and so its + calamitous contents were discharged in a torrent upon the thirsty earth, + which drank it up, and now there is no more danger, we reserving but a few + drops for experiment and scrutiny, and to exhibit to the king and + subsequently preserve among the wonders of the museum. What this liquid is + has been determined. It is without question that fierce and most + destructive fluid called lightning. It was wrested, in its container, from + its storehouse in the clouds, by the resistless might of the flying + planet, and hurled at our feet as she sped by. An interesting discovery + here results. Which is, that lightning, kept to itself, is quiescent; it + is the assaulting contact of the thunderbolt that releases it from + captivity, ignites its awful fires, and so produces an instantaneous + combustion and explosion which spread disaster and desolation far and wide + in the earth.” + </p> + <p> + After another day devoted to rest and recovery, the expedition proceeded + upon its way. Some days later it went into camp in a pleasant part of the + plain, and the savants sallied forth to see what they might find. Their + reward was at hand. Professor Bull Frog discovered a strange tree, and + called his comrades. They inspected it with profound interest. It was very + tall and straight, and wholly devoid of bark, limbs, or foliage. By + triangulation Lord Longlegs determined its altitude; Herr Spider measured + its circumference at the base and computed the circumference at its top by + a mathematical demonstration based upon the warrant furnished by the + uniform degree of its taper upward. It was considered a very extraordinary + find; and since it was a tree of a hitherto unknown species, Professor + Woodlouse gave it a name of a learned sound, being none other than that of + Professor Bull Frog translated into the ancient Mastodon language, for it + had always been the custom with discoverers to perpetuate their names and + honor themselves by this sort of connection with their discoveries. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p135.jpg (29K)" src="images/p135.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Now Professor Field-Mouse having placed his sensitive ear to the tree, + detected a rich, harmonious sound issuing from it. This surprising thing + was tested and enjoyed by each scholar in turn, and great was the gladness + and astonishment of all. Professor Woodlouse was requested to add to and + extend the tree’s name so as to make it suggest the musical quality + it possessed—which he did, furnishing the addition Anthem Singer, + done into the Mastodon tongue. + </p> + <p> + By this time Professor Snail was making some telescopic inspections. He + discovered a great number of these trees, extending in a single rank, with + wide intervals between, as far as his instrument would carry, both + southward and northward. He also presently discovered that all these trees + were bound together, near their tops, by fourteen great ropes, one above + another, which ropes were continuous, from tree to tree, as far as his + vision could reach. This was surprising. Chief Engineer Spider ran aloft + and soon reported that these ropes were simply a web hung there by some + colossal member of his own species, for he could see its prey dangling + here and there from the strands, in the shape of mighty shreds and rags + that had a woven look about their texture and were no doubt the discarded + skins of prodigious insects which had been caught and eaten. And then he + ran along one of the ropes to make a closer inspection, but felt a smart + sudden burn on the soles of his feet, accompanied by a paralyzing shock, + wherefore he let go and swung himself to the earth by a thread of his own + spinning, and advised all to hurry at once to camp, lest the monster + should appear and get as much interested in the savants as they were in + him and his works. So they departed with speed, making notes about the + gigantic web as they went. And that evening the naturalist of the + expedition built a beautiful model of the colossal spider, having no need + to see it in order to do this, because he had picked up a fragment of its + vertebra by the tree, and so knew exactly what the creature looked like + and what its habits and its preferences were by this simple evidence + alone. He built it with a tail, teeth, fourteen legs, and a snout, and + said it ate grass, cattle, pebbles, and dirt with equal enthusiasm. This + animal was regarded as a very precious addition to science. It was hoped a + dead one might be found to stuff. Professor Woodlouse thought that he and + his brother scholars, by lying hid and being quiet, might maybe catch a + live one. He was advised to try it. Which was all the attention that was + paid to his suggestion. The conference ended with the naming the monster + after the naturalist, since he, after God, had created it. + </p> + <p> + “And improved it, mayhap,” muttered the Tumble-Bug, who was + intruding again, according to his idle custom and his unappeasable + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + END OF PART FIRST + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + SOME LEARNED FABLES FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS<br /> PART SECOND<br /> HOW + THE ANIMALS OF THE WOOD COMPLETED THEIR SCIENTIFIC LABORS + </h3> + <p> + A week later the expedition camped in the midst of a collection of + wonderful curiosities. These were a sort of vast caverns of stone that + rose singly and in bunches out of the plain by the side of the river which + they had first seen when they emerged from the forest. These caverns stood + in long, straight rows on opposite sides of broad aisles that were + bordered with single ranks of trees. The summit of each cavern sloped + sharply both ways. Several horizontal rows of great square holes, + obstructed by a thin, shiny, transparent substance, pierced the frontage + of each cavern. Inside were caverns within caverns; and one might ascend + and visit these minor compartments by means of curious winding ways + consisting of continuous regular terraces raised one above another. There + were many huge, shapeless objects in each compartment which were + considered to have been living creatures at one time, though now the thin + brown skin was shrunken and loose, and rattled when disturbed. Spiders + were here in great number, and their cobwebs, stretched in all directions + and wreathing the great skinny dead together, were a pleasant spectacle, + since they inspired with life and wholesome cheer a scene which would + otherwise have brought to the mind only a sense of forsakenness and + desolation. Information was sought of these spiders, but in vain. They + were of a different nationality from those with the expedition, and their + language seemed but a musical, meaningless jargon. They were a timid, + gentle race, but ignorant, and heathenish worshipers of unknown gods. The + expedition detailed a great detachment of missionaries to teach them the + true religion, and in a week’s time a precious work had been wrought + among those darkened creatures, not three families being by that time at + peace with each other or having a settled belief in any system of religion + whatever. This encouraged the expedition to establish a colony of + missionaries there permanently, that the work of grace might go on. + </p> + <p> + But let us not outrun our narrative. After close examination of the fronts + of the caverns, and much thinking and exchanging of theories, the + scientists determined the nature of these singular formations. They said + that each belonged mainly to the Old Red Sandstone period; that the cavern + fronts rose in innumerable and wonderfully regular strata high in the air, + each stratum about five frog-spans thick, and that in the present + discovery lay an overpowering refutation of all received geology; for + between every two layers of Old Red Sandstone reposed a thin layer of + decomposed limestone; so instead of there having been but one Old Red + Sandstone period there had certainly been not less than a hundred and + seventy-five! And by the same token it was plain that there had also been + a hundred and seventy-five floodings of the earth and depositings of + limestone strata! The unavoidable deduction from which pair of facts was + the overwhelming truth that the world, instead of being only two hundred + thousand years old, was older by millions upon millions of years! And + there was another curious thing: every stratum of Old Red Sandstone was + pierced and divided at mathematically regular intervals by vertical strata + of limestone. Up-shootings of igneous rock through fractures in water + formations were common; but here was the first instance where water-formed + rock had been so projected. It was a great and noble discovery, and its + value to science was considered to be inestimable. + </p> + <p> + A critical examination of some of the lower strata demonstrated the + presence of fossil ants and tumble-bugs (the latter accompanied by their + peculiar goods), and with high gratification the fact was enrolled upon + the scientific record; for this was proof that these vulgar laborers + belonged to the first and lowest orders of created beings, though at the + same time there was something repulsive in the reflection that the perfect + and exquisite creature of the modern uppermost order owed its origin to + such ignominious beings through the mysterious law of Development of + Species. + </p> + <p> + The Tumble-Bug, overhearing this discussion, said he was willing that the + parvenus of these new times should find what comfort they might in their + wise-drawn theories, since as far as he was concerned he was content to be + of the old first families and proud to point back to his place among the + old original aristocracy of the land. + </p> + <p> + “Enjoy your mushroom dignity, stinking of the varnish of yesterday’s + veneering, since you like it,” said he; “suffice it for the + Tumble-Bugs that they come of a race that rolled their fragrant spheres + down the solemn aisles of antiquity, and left their imperishable works + embalmed in the Old Red Sandstone to proclaim it to the wasting centuries + as they file along the highway of Time!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, take a walk!” said the chief of the expedition, with + derision. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p139.jpg (40K)" src="images/p139.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The summer passed, and winter approached. In and about many of the caverns + were what seemed to be inscriptions. Most of the scientists said they were + inscriptions, a few said they were not. The chief philologist, Professor + Woodlouse, maintained that they were writings, done in a character utterly + unknown to scholars, and in a language equally unknown. He had early + ordered his artists and draftsmen to make facsimiles of all that were + discovered; and had set himself about finding the key to the hidden + tongue. In this work he had followed the method which had always been used + by decipherers previously. That is to say, he placed a number of copies of + inscriptions before him and studied them both collectively and in detail. + To begin with, he placed the following copies together: + </p> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + THE AMERICAN HOTEL. + </td> + <td> + MEALS AT ALL HOURS. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE SHADES. + </td> + <td> + NO SMOKING. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + BOATS FOR HIRE CHEAP + </td> + <td> + UNION PRAYER MEETING, 4 P.M. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + BILLIARDS. + </td> + <td> + THE WATERSIDE JOURNAL. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE A1 BARBER SHOP. + </td> + <td> + TELEGRAPH OFFICE. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + KEEP OFF THE GRASS. + </td> + <td> + TRY BRANDRETH’S PILLS. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + COTTAGES FOR RENT DURING + </td> + <td> + THE WATERING SEASON. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + FOR SALE CHEAP. + </td> + <td> + FOR SALE CHEAP. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + FOR SALE CHEAP. + </td> + <td> + FOR SALE CHEAP. + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + At first it seemed to the professor that this was a sign-language, and + that each word was represented by a distinct sign; further examination + convinced him that it was a written language, and that every letter of its + alphabet was represented by a character of its own; and finally he decided + that it was a language which conveyed itself partly by letters, and partly + by signs or hieroglyphics. This conclusion was forced upon him by the + discovery of several specimens of the following nature: + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p140.jpg (26K)" src="images/p140.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + He observed that certain inscriptions were met with in greater frequency + than others. Such as “FOR SALE CHEAP”; “BILLIARDS”; + “S. T.—1860—X”; “KENO”; “ALE ON + DRAUGHT.” Naturally, then, these must be religious maxims. But this + idea was cast aside by and by, as the mystery of the strange alphabet + began to clear itself. In time, the professor was enabled to translate + several of the inscriptions with considerable plausibility, though not to + the perfect satisfaction of all the scholars. Still, he made constant and + encouraging progress. + </p> + <p> + Finally a cavern was discovered with these inscriptions upon it: + </p> + <p> + <b><big>WATERSIDE MUSEUM.</big><br /> Open at All Hours.<br /> Admission 50 + cents.<br /> <big>WONDERFUL COLLECTION OF<br /> WAX-WORKS, ANCIENT FOSSILS,<br /> + ETC.</big><br /></b> + </p> + <p> + Professor Woodlouse affirmed that the word “Museum” was + equivalent to the phrase “lumgath molo,” or “Burial + Place.” Upon entering, the scientists were well astonished. But what + they saw may be best conveyed in the language of their own official + report: + </p> + <p> + “Erect, in a row, were a sort of rigid great figures which struck us + instantly as belonging to the long extinct species of reptile called MAN, + described in our ancient records. This was a peculiarly gratifying + discovery, because of late times it has become fashionable to regard this + creature as a myth and a superstition, a work of the inventive + imaginations of our remote ancestors. But here, indeed, was Man perfectly + preserved, in a fossil state. And this was his burial place, as already + ascertained by the inscription. And now it began to be suspected that the + caverns we had been inspecting had been his ancient haunts in that old + time that he roamed the earth—for upon the breast of each of these + tall fossils was an inscription in the character heretofore noticed. One + read, ‘CAPTAIN KIDD THE PIRATE’; another, ‘QUEEN + VICTORIA’; another, ‘ABE LINCOLN’; another, ‘GEORGE + WASHINGTON,’ etc. + </p> + <p> + “With feverish interest we called for our ancient scientific records + to discover if perchance the description of Man there set down would tally + with the fossils before us. Professor Woodlouse read it aloud in its + quaint and musty phraseology, to wit: + </p> + <p> + “‘In ye time of our fathers Man still walked ye earth, as by + tradition we know. It was a creature of exceeding great size, being + compassed about with a loose skin, sometimes of one color, sometimes of + many, the which it was able to cast at will; which being done, the hind + legs were discovered to be armed with short claws like to a mole’s + but broader, and ye forelegs with fingers of a curious slimness and a + length much more prodigious than a frog’s, armed also with broad + talons for scratching in ye earth for its food. It had a sort of feathers + upon its head such as hath a rat, but longer, and a beak suitable for + seeking its food by ye smell thereof. When it was stirred with happiness, + it leaked water from its eyes; and when it suffered or was sad, it + manifested it with a horrible hellish cackling clamor that was exceeding + dreadful to hear and made one long that it might rend itself and perish, + and so end its troubles. Two Mans being together, they uttered noises at + each other like this: “Haw-haw-haw—dam good, dam good,” + together with other sounds of more or less likeness to these, wherefore ye + poets conceived that they talked, but poets be always ready to catch at + any frantic folly, God he knows. Sometimes this creature goeth about with + a long stick ye which it putteth to its face and bloweth fire and smoke + through ye same with a sudden and most damnable bruit and noise that doth + fright its prey to death, and so seizeth it in its talons and walketh away + to its habitat, consumed with a most fierce and devilish joy.’ + </p> + <p> + “Now was the description set forth by our ancestors wonderfully + indorsed and confirmed by the fossils before us, as shall be seen. The + specimen marked ‘Captain Kidd’ was examined in detail. Upon + its head and part of its face was a sort of fur like that upon the tail of + a horse. With great labor its loose skin was removed, whereupon its body + was discovered to be of a polished white texture, thoroughly petrified. + The straw it had eaten, so many ages gone by, was still in its body, + undigested—and even in its legs. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p142.jpg (40K)" src="images/p142.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “Surrounding these fossils were objects that would mean nothing to + the ignorant, but to the eye of science they were a revelation. They laid + bare the secrets of dead ages. These musty Memorials told us when Man + lived, and what were his habits. For here, side by side with Man, were the + evidences that he had lived in the earliest ages of creation, the + companion of the other low orders of life that belonged to that forgotten + time. Here was the fossil nautilus that sailed the primeval seas; here was + the skeleton of the mastodon, the ichthyosaurus, the cave-bear, the + prodigious elk. Here, also, were the charred bones of some of these + extinct animals and of the young of Man’s own species, split + lengthwise, showing that to his taste the marrow was a toothsome luxury. + It was plain that Man had robbed those bones of their contents, since no + toothmark of any beast was upon them albeit the Tumble-Bug intruded the + remark that ‘no beast could mark a bone with its teeth, anyway.’ + Here were proofs that Man had vague, groveling notions of art; for this + fact was conveyed by certain things marked with the untranslatable words, + ‘FLINT HATCHETS, KNIVES, ARROW-HEADS, AND BONE ORNAMENTS OF PRIMEVAL + MAN.’ Some of these seemed to be rude weapons chipped out of flint, + and in a secret place was found some more in process of construction, with + this untranslatable legend, on a thin, flimsy material, lying by: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “‘Jones, if you don’t want to be discharged from + the Musseum, make the next primeaveal weppons more careful—you + couldn’t even fool one of these sleepy old syentific grannys from + the Coledge with the last ones. And mind you the animles you carved on + some of the Bone Ornaments is a blame sight too good for any primeaveal + man that was ever fooled.—Varnum, Manager.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “Back of the burial place was a mass of ashes, showing that Man + always had a feast at a funeral—else why the ashes in such a place; + and showing, also, that he believed in God and the immortality of the soul + —else why these solemn ceremonies? + </p> + <p> + “To, sum up. We believe that Man had a written language. We know + that he indeed existed at one time, and is not a myth; also, that he was + the companion of the cave-bear, the mastodon, and other extinct species; + that he cooked and ate them and likewise the young of his own kind; also, + that he bore rude weapons, and knew something of art; that he imagined he + had a soul, and pleased himself with the fancy that it was immortal. But + let us not laugh; there may be creatures in existence to whom we and our + vanities and profundities may seem as ludicrous.” + </p> + <p> + END OF PART SECOND + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + SOME LEARNED FABLES FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p144.jpg (37K)" src="images/p144.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + PART THIRD + </h3> + <p> + Near the margin of the great river the scientists presently found a huge, + shapely stone, with this inscription: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “In 1847, in the spring, the river overflowed its banks and + covered the whole township. The depth was from two to six feet. More + than 900 head of cattle were lost, and many homes destroyed. The Mayor + ordered this memorial to be erected to perpetuate the event. God spare + us the repetition of it!” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + With infinite trouble, Professor Woodlouse succeeded in making a + translation of this inscription, which was sent home, and straightway an + enormous excitement was created about it. It confirmed, in a remarkable + way, certain treasured traditions of the ancients. The translation was + slightly marred by one or two untranslatable words, but these did not + impair the general clearness of the meaning. It is here presented: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “One thousand eight hundred and forty-seven years ago, the + (fires?) descended and consumed the whole city. Only some nine hundred + souls were saved, all others destroyed. The (king?) commanded this stone + to be set up to . . . (untranslatable) . . . prevent the repetition of + it.” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + This was the first successful and satisfactory translation that had been + made of the mysterious character left behind him by extinct man, and it + gave Professor Woodlouse such reputation that at once every seat of + learning in his native land conferred a degree of the most illustrious + grade upon him, and it was believed that if he had been a soldier and had + turned his splendid talents to the extermination of a remote tribe of + reptiles, the king would have ennobled him and made him rich. And this, + too, was the origin of that school of scientists called Manologists, whose + specialty is the deciphering of the ancient records of the extinct bird + termed Man. [For it is now decided that Man was a bird and not a reptile.] + But Professor Woodlouse began and remained chief of these, for it was + granted that no translations were ever so free from error as his. Others + made mistakes—he seemed incapable of it. Many a memorial of the lost + race was afterward found, but none ever attained to the renown and + veneration achieved by the “Mayoritish Stone” it being so + called from the word “Mayor” in it, which, being translated + “King,” “Mayoritish Stone” was but another way of + saying “King Stone.” + </p> + <p> + Another time the expedition made a great “find.” It was a vast + round flattish mass, ten frog-spans in diameter and five or six high. + Professor Snail put on his spectacles and examined it all around, and then + climbed up and inspected the top. He said: + </p> + <p> + “The result of my perlustration and perscontation of this + isoperimetrical protuberance is a belief at it is one of those rare and + wonderful creations left by the Mound Builders. The fact that this one is + lamellibranchiate in its formation, simply adds to its interest as being + possibly of a different kind from any we read of in the records of + science, but yet in no manner marring its authenticity. Let the + megalophonous grasshopper sound a blast and summon hither the perfunctory + and circumforaneous Tumble-Bug, to the end that excavations may be made + and learning gather new treasures.” + </p> + <p> + Not a Tumble-Bug could be found on duty, so the Mound was excavated by a + working party of Ants. Nothing was discovered. This would have been a + great disappointment, had not the venerable Longlegs explained the matter. + He said: + </p> + <p> + “It is now plain to me that the mysterious and forgotten race of + Mound Builders did not always erect these edifices as mausoleums, else in + this case, as in all previous cases, their skeletons would be found here, + along with the rude implements which the creatures used in life. Is not + this manifest?” + </p> + <p> + “True! true!” from everybody. + </p> + <p> + “Then we have made a discovery of peculiar value here; a discovery + which greatly extends our knowledge of this creature in place of + diminishing it; a discovery which will add luster to the achievements of + this expedition and win for us the commendations of scholars everywhere. + For the absence of the customary relics here means nothing less than this: + The Mound Builder, instead of being the ignorant, savage reptile we have + been taught to consider him, was a creature of cultivation and high + intelligence, capable of not only appreciating worthy achievements of the + great and noble of his species, but of commemorating them! + Fellow-scholars, this stately Mound is not a sepulcher, it is a monument!” + </p> + <p> + A profound impression was produced by this. + </p> + <p> + But it was interrupted by rude and derisive laughter—and the + Tumble-Bug appeared. + </p> + <p> + “A monument!” quoth he. “A monument setup by a Mound + Builder! Aye, so it is! So it is, indeed, to the shrewd keen eye of + science; but to an ignorant poor devil who has never seen a college, it is + not a Monument, strictly speaking, but is yet a most rich and noble + property; and with your worship’s good permission I will proceed to + manufacture it into spheres of exceeding grace and—” + </p> + <p> + The Tumble-Bug was driven away with stripes, and the draftsmen of the + expedition were set to making views of the Monument from different + standpoints, while Professor Woodlouse, in a frenzy of scientific zeal, + traveled all over it and all around it hoping to find an inscription. But + if there had ever been one, it had decayed or been removed by some vandal + as a relic. + </p> + <p> + The views having been completed, it was now considered safe to load the + precious Monument itself upon the backs of four of the largest Tortoises + and send it home to the king’s museum, which was done; and when it + arrived it was received with enormous éclat and escorted to its + future abiding-place by thousands of enthusiastic citizens, King Bullfrog + XVI. himself attending and condescending to sit enthroned upon it + throughout the progress. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p147.jpg (40K)" src="images/p147.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The growing rigor of the weather was now admonishing the scientists to + close their labors for the present, so they made preparations to journey + homeward. But even their last day among the Caverns bore fruit; for one of + the scholars found in an out-of-the-way corner of the Museum or “Burial + Place” a most strange and extraordinary thing. It was nothing less + than a double Man-Bird lashed together breast to breast by a natural + ligament, and labeled with the untranslatable words, “Siamese Twins.” + The official report concerning this thing closed thus: + </p> + <p> + “Wherefore it appears that there were in old times two distinct + species of this majestic fowl, the one being single and the other double. + Nature has a reason for all things. It is plain to the eye of science that + the Double-Man originally inhabited a region where dangers abounded; hence + he was paired together to the end that while one part slept the other + might watch; and likewise that, danger being discovered, there might + always be a double instead of a single power to oppose it. All honor to + the mystery-dispelling eye of godlike Science!” + </p> + <p> + And near the Double Man-Bird was found what was plainly an ancient record + of his, marked upon numberless sheets of a thin white substance and bound + together. Almost the first glance that Professor Woodlouse threw into it + revealed this following sentence, which he instantly translated and laid + before the scientists, in a tremble, and it uplifted every soul there with + exultation and astonishment: + </p> + <p> + “In truth it is believed by many that the lower animals reason and + talk together.” + </p> + <p> + When the great official report of the expedition appeared, the above + sentence bore this comment: + </p> + <p> + “Then there are lower animals than Man! This remarkable passage can + mean nothing else. Man himself is extinct, but they may still exist. What + can they be? Where do they inhabit? One’s enthusiasm bursts all + bounds in the contemplation of the brilliant field of discovery and + investigation here thrown open to science. We close our labors with the + humble prayer that your Majesty will immediately appoint a commission and + command it to rest not nor spare expense until the search for this + hitherto unsuspected race of the creatures of God shall be crowned with + success.” + </p> + <p> + The expedition then journeyed homeward after its long absence and its + faithful endeavors, and was received with a mighty ovation by the whole + grateful country. There were vulgar, ignorant carpers, of course, as there + always are and always will be; and naturally one of these was the obscene + Tumble-Bug. He said that all he had learned by his travels was that + science only needed a spoonful of supposition to build a mountain of + demonstrated fact out of; and that for the future he meant to be content + with the knowledge that nature had made free to all creatures and not go + prying into the august secrets of the Deity. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="senatorial" id="senatorial"></a>MY LATE SENATORIAL SECRETARYSHIP + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1867] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + I am not a private secretary to a senator any more now. I held the berth + two months in security and in great cheerfulness of spirit, but my bread + began to return from over the waters then—that is to say, my works + came back and revealed themselves. I judged it best to resign. The way of + it was this. My employer sent for me one morning tolerably early, and, as + soon as I had finished inserting some conundrums clandestinely into his + last great speech upon finance, I entered the presence. There was + something portentous in his appearance. His cravat was untied, his hair + was in a state of disorder, and his countenance bore about it the signs of + a suppressed storm. He held a package of letters in his tense grasp, and I + knew that the dreaded Pacific mail was in. He said: + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were worthy of confidence.” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He said, “I gave you a letter from certain of my constituents in the + State of Nevada, asking the establishment of a post-office at Baldwin’s + Ranch, and told you to answer it, as ingeniously as you could, with + arguments which should persuade them that there was no real necessity for + an office at that place.” + </p> + <p> + I felt easier. “Oh, if that is all, sir, I did do that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you did. I will read your answer for your own humiliation: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> ‘WASHINGTON, Nov. 24<br /> <br /> ‘Messrs. Smith, Jones, + and others.<br /> <br /> ‘GENTLEMEN: What the mischief do you + suppose you want with a post-office at Baldwin’s Ranch? It would + not do you any good. If any letters came there, you couldn’t read + them, you know; and, besides, such letters as ought to pass through, + with money in them, for other localities, would not be likely to get + through, you must perceive at once; and that would make trouble for us + all. No, don’t bother about a post-office in your camp. I have + your best interests at heart, and feel that it would only be an + ornamental folly. What you want is a nice jail, you know—a nice, + substantial jail and a free school. These will be a lasting benefit to + you. These will make you really contented and happy. I will move in the + matter at once.<br /> <br /> ‘Very truly, etc.,<br /> Mark Twain,<br /> + <br /> ‘For James W. N———, U. S. Senator.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “That is the way you answered that letter. Those people say they + will hang me, if I ever enter that district again; and I am perfectly + satisfied they will, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, I did not know I was doing any harm. I only wanted to + convince them.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah. Well, you did convince them, I make no manner of doubt. Now, + here is another specimen. I gave you a petition from certain gentlemen of + Nevada, praying that I would get a bill through Congress incorporating the + Methodist Episcopal Church of the State of Nevada. I told you to say, in + reply, that the creation of such a law came more properly within the + province of the state legislature; and to endeavor to show them that, in + the present feebleness of the religious element in that new commonwealth, + the expediency of incorporating the church was questionable. What did you + write? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “‘WASHINGTON, Nov. 24.<br /> <br /> “‘Rev. + John Halifax and others.<br /> <br /> “‘GENTLEMEN: You will + have to go to the state legislature about that speculation of yours—Congress + don’t know anything about religion. But don’t you hurry to + go there, either; because this thing you propose to do out in that new + country isn’t expedient—in fact, it is ridiculous. Your + religious people there are too feeble, in intellect, in morality, in + piety in everything, pretty much. You had better drop this—you can’t + make it work. You can’t issue stock on an incorporation like that—or + if you could, it would only keep you in trouble all the time. The other + denominations would abuse it, and “bear” it, and “sell + it short,” and break it down. They would do with it just as they + would with one of your silver-mines out there—they would try to + make all the world believe it was “wildcat.” You ought not + to do anything that is calculated to bring a sacred thing into + disrepute. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves—that is what I + think about it. You close your petition with the words: “And we + will ever pray.” I think you had better—you need to do it.<br /> + <br /> “‘Very truly, etc.,<br /> “‘MARK TWAIN,<br /> + <br /> “‘For James W. N——-, U. S. Senator.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “That luminous epistle finishes me with the religious element among + my constituents. But that my political murder might be made sure, some + evil instinct prompted me to hand you this memorial from the grave company + of elders composing the board of aldermen of the city of San Francisco, to + try your hand upon—a memorial praying that the city’s right to + the water-lots upon the city front might be established by law of + Congress. I told you this was a dangerous matter to move in. I told you to + write a non-committal letter to the aldermen—an ambiguous letter—a + letter that should avoid, as far as possible, all real consideration and + discussion of the water-lot question. If there is any feeling left in you—any + shame—surely this letter you wrote, in obedience to that order, + ought to evoke it, when its words fall upon your ears: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> ‘WASHINGTON, Nov. 27<br /> <br /> ‘The Honorable Board + of Aldermen, etc.<br /> <br /> ‘GENTLEMEN: George Washington, the + revered Father of his Country, is dead. His long and brilliant career is + closed, alas! forever. He was greatly respected in this section of the + country, and his untimely decease cast a gloom over the whole community. + He died on the 14th day of December, 1799. He passed peacefully away + from the scene of his honors and his great achievements, the most + lamented hero and the best beloved that ever earth hath yielded unto + Death. At such a time as this, you speak of water-lots! what a lot was + his!<br /> <br /> ‘What is fame! Fame is an accident. Sir Isaac + Newton discovered an apple falling to the ground—a trivial + discovery, truly, and one which a million men had made before him—but + his parents were influential, and so they tortured that small + circumstance into something wonderful, and, lo! the simple world took up + the shout and, in almost the twinkling of an eye, that man was famous. + Treasure these thoughts.<br /> <br /> ‘Poesy, sweet poesy, who shall + estimate what the world owes to thee!<br /> <br /> “Mary had a + little lamb, its fleece was white as<br /> snow—And everywhere that + Mary went, the lamb was sure to go."<br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + “Jack and Gill went up the hill<br /> To draw a pail of water;<br /> + Jack fell down and broke his crown,<br /> And Gill came tumbling after.” + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> ‘For simplicity, elegance of diction, and freedom from + immoral tendencies, I regard those two poems in the light of gems. They + are suited to all grades of intelligence, to every sphere of life + —to the field, to the nursery, to the guild. Especially should no + Board of Aldermen be without them.<br /> <br /> ‘Venerable fossils! + write again. Nothing improves one so much as friendly correspondence. + Write again—and if there is anything in this memorial of yours + that refers to anything in particular, do not be backward about + explaining it. We shall always be happy to hear you chirp.<br /> <br /> + ‘Very truly, etc.,<br /> “‘MARK TWAIN,<br /> <br /> + ‘For James W. N——-, U. S. Senator.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “That is an atrocious, a ruinous epistle! Distraction!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, I am really sorry if there is anything wrong about it—but—but + it appears to me to dodge the water-lot question.” + </p> + <p> + “Dodge the mischief! Oh!—but never mind. As long as + destruction must come now, let it be complete. Let it be complete—let + this last of your performances, which I am about to read, make a finality + of it. I am a ruined man. I had my misgivings when I gave you the letter + from Humboldt, asking that the post route from Indian Gulch to Shakespeare + Gap and intermediate points be changed partly to the old Mormon trail. But + I told you it was a delicate question, and warned you to deal with it + deftly—to answer it dubiously, and leave them a little in the dark. + And your fatal imbecility impelled you to make this disastrous reply. I + should think you would stop your ears, if you are not dead to all shame: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> “‘WASHINGTON, Nov. 30.<br /> <br /> “‘Messers. + Perkins, Wagner, et at.<br /> <br /> “‘GENTLEMEN: It is a + delicate question about this Indian trail, but, handled with proper + deftness and dubiousness, I doubt not we shall succeed in some measure + or otherwise, because the place where the route leaves the Lassen + Meadows, over beyond where those two Shawnee chiefs, Dilapidated + Vengeance and Biter-of-the-Clouds, were scalped last winter, this being + the favorite direction to some, but others preferring something else in + consequence of things, the Mormon trail leaving Mosby’s at three + in the morning, and passing through Jawbone Flat to Blucher, and then + down by Jug-Handle, the road passing to the right of it, and naturally + leaving it on the right, too, and Dawson’s on the left of the + trail where it passes to the left of said Dawson’s and onward + thence to Tomahawk, thus making the route cheaper, easier of access to + all who can get at it, and compassing all the desirable objects so + considered by others, and, therefore, conferring the most good upon the + greatest number, and, consequently, I am encouraged to hope we shall. + However, I shall be ready, and happy, to afford you still further + information upon the subject, from time to time, as you may desire it + and the Post-office Department be enabled to furnish it to me.<br /> + <br /> “‘Very truly, etc.,<br /> “‘MARK TWAIN,<br /> + <br /> “‘For James W. N——-, U. S. Senator.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “There—now what do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know, sir. It—well, it appears to me—to + be dubious enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Du—leave the house! I am a ruined man. Those Humboldt savages + never will forgive me for tangling their brains up with this inhuman + letter. I have lost the respect of the Methodist Church, the board of + aldermen—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I haven’t anything to say about that, because I may + have missed it a little in their cases, but I was too many for the Baldwin’s + Ranch people, General!” + </p> + <p> + “Leave the house! Leave it forever and forever, too.” + </p> + <p> + I regarded that as a sort of covert intimation that my service could be + dispensed with, and so I resigned. I never will be a private secretary to + a senator again. You can’t please that kind of people. They don’t + know anything. They can’t appreciate a party’s efforts. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="fashion" id="fashion"></a>A FASHION ITEM + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1867] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p153.jpg (136K)" src="images/p153.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + At General G——’s reception the other night, the most + fashionably dressed lady was Mrs. G. C. She wore a pink satin dress, plain + in front but with a good deal of rake to it—to the train, I mean; it + was said to be two or three yards long. One could see it creeping along + the floor some little time after the woman was gone. Mrs. C. wore also a + white bodice, cut bias, with Pompadour sleeves, flounced with ruches; low + neck, with the inside handkerchief not visible, with white kid gloves. She + had on a pearl necklace, which glinted lonely, high up the midst of that + barren waste of neck and shoulders. Her hair was frizzled into a tangled + chaparral, forward of her ears, aft it was drawn together, and compactly + bound and plaited into a stump like a pony’s tail, and furthermore + was canted upward at a sharp angle, and ingeniously supported by a red + velvet crupper, whose forward extremity was made fast with a half-hitch + around a hairpin on the top of her head. Her whole top hamper was neat and + becoming. She had a beautiful complexion when she first came, but it faded + out by degrees in an unaccountable way. However, it is not lost for good. + I found the most of it on my shoulder afterward. (I stood near the door + when she squeezed out with the throng.) There were other ladies present, + but I only took notes of one as a specimen. I would gladly enlarge upon + the subject were I able to do it justice. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="riley" id="riley"></a>RILEY—NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENT + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p154.jpg (100K)" src="images/p154.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + One of the best men in Washington—or elsewhere—is RILEY, + correspondent of one of the great San Francisco dailies. + </p> + <p> + Riley is full of humor, and has an unfailing vein of irony, which makes + his conversation to the last degree entertaining (as long as the remarks + are about somebody else). But notwithstanding the possession of these + qualities, which should enable a man to write a happy and an appetizing + letter, Riley’s newspaper letters often display a more than earthly + solemnity, and likewise an unimaginative devotion to petrified facts, + which surprise and distress all men who know him in his unofficial + character. He explains this curious thing by saying that his employers + sent him to Washington to write facts, not fancy, and that several times + he has come near losing his situation by inserting humorous remarks which, + not being looked for at headquarters, and consequently not understood, + were thought to be dark and bloody speeches intended to convey signals and + warnings to murderous secret societies, or something of that kind, and so + were scratched out with a shiver and a prayer and cast into the stove. + Riley says that sometimes he is so afflicted with a yearning to write a + sparkling and absorbingly readable letter that he simply cannot resist it, + and so he goes to his den and revels in the delight of untrammeled + scribbling; and then, with suffering such as only a mother can know, he + destroys the pretty children of his fancy and reduces his letter to the + required dismal accuracy. Having seen Riley do this very thing more than + once, I know whereof I speak. Often I have laughed with him over a happy + passage, and grieved to see him plow his pen through it. He would say, + “I had to write that or die; and I’ve got to scratch it out or + starve. They wouldn’t stand it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + I think Riley is about the most entertaining company I ever saw. We lodged + together in many places in Washington during the winter of ‘67-8, + moving comfortably from place to place, and attracting attention by paying + our board—a course which cannot fail to make a person conspicuous in + Washington. Riley would tell all about his trip to California in the early + days, by way of the Isthmus and the San Juan River; and about his baking + bread in San Francisco to gain a living, and setting up tenpins, and + practising law, and opening oysters, and delivering lectures, and teaching + French, and tending bar, and reporting for the newspapers, and keeping + dancing-schools, and interpreting Chinese in the courts—which latter + was lucrative, and Riley was doing handsomely and laying up a little money + when people began to find fault because his translations were too “free,” + a thing for which Riley considered he ought not to be held responsible, + since he did not know a word of the Chinese tongue, and only adopted + interpreting as a means of gaining an honest livelihood. Through the + machinations of enemies he was removed from the position of official + interpreter, and a man put in his place who was familiar with the Chinese + language, but did not know any English. And Riley used to tell about + publishing a newspaper up in what is Alaska now, but was only an iceberg + then, with a population composed of bears, walruses, Indians, and other + animals; and how the iceberg got adrift at last, and left all his paying + subscribers behind, and as soon as the commonwealth floated out of the + jurisdiction of Russia the people rose and threw off their allegiance and + ran up the English flag, calculating to hook on and become an English + colony as they drifted along down the British Possessions; but a land + breeze and a crooked current carried them by, and they ran up the Stars + and Stripes and steered for California, missed the connection again and + swore allegiance to Mexico, but it wasn’t any use; the anchors came + home every time, and away they went with the northeast trades drifting off + sideways toward the Sandwich Islands, whereupon they ran up the Cannibal + flag and had a grand human barbecue in honor of it, in which it was + noticed that the better a man liked a friend the better he enjoyed him; + and as soon as they got fairly within the tropics the weather got so + fearfully hot that the iceberg began to melt, and it got so sloppy under + foot that it was almost impossible for ladies to get about at all; and at + last, just as they came in sight of the islands, the melancholy remnant of + the once majestic iceberg canted first to one side and then to the other, + and then plunged under forever, carrying the national archives along with + it—and not only the archives and the populace, but some eligible + town lots which had increased in value as fast as they diminished in size + in the tropics, and which Riley could have sold at thirty cents a pound + and made himself rich if he could have kept the province afloat ten hours + longer and got her into port. + </p> + <p> + Riley is very methodical, untiringly accommodating, never forgets anything + that is to be attended to, is a good son, a stanch friend, and a permanent + reliable enemy. He will put himself to any amount of trouble to oblige a + body, and therefore always has his hands full of things to be done for the + helpless and the shiftless. And he knows how to do nearly everything, too. + He is a man whose native benevolence is a well-spring that never goes dry. + He stands always ready to help whoever needs help, as far as he is able—and + not simply with his money, for that is a cheap and common charity, but + with hand and brain, and fatigue of limb and sacrifice of time. This sort + of men is rare. + </p> + <p> + Riley has a ready wit, a quickness and aptness at selecting and applying + quotations, and a countenance that is as solemn and as blank as the back + side of a tombstone when he is delivering a particularly exasperating + joke. One night a negro woman was burned to death in a house next door to + us, and Riley said that our landlady would be oppressively emotional at + breakfast, because she generally made use of such opportunities as + offered, being of a morbidly sentimental turn, and so we should find it + best to let her talk along and say nothing back—it was the only way + to keep her tears out of the gravy. Riley said there never was a funeral + in the neighborhood but that the gravy was watery for a week. + </p> + <p> + And, sure enough, at breakfast the landlady was down in the very sloughs + of woe—entirely brokenhearted. Everything she looked at reminded her + of that poor old negro woman, and so the buckwheat cakes made her sob, the + coffee forced a groan, and when the beefsteak came on she fetched a wail + that made our hair rise. Then she got to talking about deceased, and kept + up a steady drizzle till both of us were soaked through and through. + Presently she took a fresh breath and said, with a world of sobs: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, to think of it, only to think of it!—the poor old + faithful creature. For she was so faithful. Would you believe it, she had + been a servant in that selfsame house and that selfsame family for twenty + seven years come Christmas, and never a cross word and never a lick! And, + oh, to think she should meet such a death at last!—a-sitting over + the red hot stove at three o’clock in the morning and went to sleep + and fell on it and was actually roasted! Not just frizzled up a bit, but + literally roasted to a crisp! Poor faithful creature, how she was cooked! + I am but a poor woman, but even if I have to scrimp to do it, I will put + up a tombstone over that lone sufferer’s grave—and Mr. Riley + if you would have the goodness to think up a little epitaph to put on it + which would sort of describe the awful way in which she met her—” + </p> + <p> + “Put it, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant,’” + said Riley, and never smiled. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="oldman" id="oldman"></a>A FINE OLD MAN + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p158.jpg (97K)" src="images/p158.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + John Wagner, the oldest man in Buffalo—one hundred and four years + old—recently walked a mile and a half in two weeks. + </p> + <p> + He is as cheerful and bright as any of these other old men that charge + around so persistently and tiresomely in the newspapers, and in every way + as remarkable. + </p> + <p> + Last November he walked five blocks in a rainstorm, without any shelter + but an umbrella, and cast his vote for Grant, remarking that he had voted + for forty-seven presidents—which was a lie. + </p> + <p> + His “second crop” of rich brown hair arrived from New York + yesterday, and he has a new set of teeth coming from—Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + He is to be married next week to a girl one hundred and two years old, who + still takes in washing. + </p> + <p> + They have been engaged eighty years, but their parents persistently + refused their consent until three days ago. + </p> + <p> + John Wagner is two years older than the Rhode Island veteran, and yet has + never tasted a drop of liquor in his life—unless—unless you + count whisky. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="science" id="science"></a>SCIENCE V.S. LUCK + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1867] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p159.jpg (54K)" src="images/p159.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + At that time, in Kentucky (said the Hon. Mr. K——-); the law + was very strict against what is termed “games of chance.” + About a dozen of the boys were detected playing “seven up” or + “old sledge” for money, and the grand jury found a true bill + against them. Jim Sturgis was retained to defend them when the case came + up, of course. The more he studied over the matter, and looked into the + evidence, the plainer it was that he must lose a case at last—there + was no getting around that painful fact. Those boys had certainly been + betting money on a game of chance. Even public sympathy was roused in + behalf of Sturgis. People said it was a pity to see him mar his successful + career with a big prominent case like this, which must go against him. + </p> + <p> + But after several restless nights an inspired idea flashed upon Sturgis, + and he sprang out of bed delighted. He thought he saw his way through. The + next day he whispered around a little among his clients and a few friends, + and then when the case came up in court he acknowledged the seven-up and + the betting, and, as his sole defense, had the astounding effrontery to + put in the plea that old sledge was not a game of chance! There was the + broadest sort of a smile all over the faces of that sophisticated + audience. The judge smiled with the rest. But Sturgis maintained a + countenance whose earnestness was even severe. The opposite counsel tried + to ridicule him out of his position, and did not succeed. The judge jested + in a ponderous judicial way about the thing, but did not move him. The + matter was becoming grave. The judge lost a little of his patience, and + said the joke had gone far enough. Jim Sturgis said he knew of no joke in + the matter—his clients could not be punished for indulging in what + some people chose to consider a game of chance until it was <i>proven</i> + that it was a game of chance. Judge and counsel said that would be an easy + matter, and forthwith called Deacons Job, Peters, Burke, and Johnson, and + Dominies Wirt and Miggles, to testify; and they unanimously and with + strong feeling put down the legal quibble of Sturgis by pronouncing that + old sledge was a game of chance. + </p> + <p> + “What do you call it now?” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “I call it a game of science!” retorted Sturgis; “and I’ll + prove it, too!” + </p> + <p> + They saw his little game. + </p> + <p> + He brought in a cloud of witnesses, and produced an overwhelming mass of + testimony, to show that old sledge was not a game of chance but a game of + science. + </p> + <p> + Instead of being the simplest case in the world, it had somehow turned out + to be an excessively knotty one. The judge scratched his head over it + awhile, and said there was no way of coming to a determination, because + just as many men could be brought into court who would testify on one side + as could be found to testify on the other. But he said he was willing to + do the fair thing by all parties, and would act upon any suggestion Mr. + Sturgis would make for the solution of the difficulty. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sturgis was on his feet in a second. + </p> + <p> + “Impanel a jury of six of each, Luck versus Science. Give them + candles and a couple of decks of cards. Send them into the jury-room, and + just abide by the result!” + </p> + <p> + There was no disputing the fairness of the proposition. The four deacons + and the two dominies were sworn in as the “chance” jurymen, + and six inveterate old seven-up professors were chosen to represent the + “science” side of the issue. They retired to the jury-room. + </p> + <p> + In about two hours Deacon Peters sent into court to borrow three dollars + from a friend. [Sensation.] In about two hours more Dominie Miggles sent + into court to borrow a “stake” from a friend. [Sensation.] + During the next three or four hours the other dominie and the other + deacons sent into court for small loans. And still the packed audience + waited, for it was a prodigious occasion in Bull’s Corners, and one + in which every father of a family was necessarily interested. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the story can be told briefly. About daylight the jury came + in, and Deacon Job, the foreman, read the following: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> VERDICT:<br /> <br /> We, the jury in the case of the Commonwealth + of Kentucky vs. John Wheeler et al., have carefully considered the + points of the case, and tested the merits of the several theories + advanced, and do hereby unanimously decide that the game commonly known + as old sledge or seven-up is eminently a game of science and not of + chance. In demonstration whereof it is hereby and herein stated, + iterated, reiterated, set forth, and made manifest that, during the + entire night, the “chance” men never won a game or turned a + jack, although both feats were common and frequent to the opposition; + and furthermore, in support of this our verdict, we call attention to + the significant fact that the “chance” men are all busted, + and the “science” men have got the money. It is the + deliberate opinion of this jury, that the “chance” theory + concerning seven-up is a pernicious doctrine, and calculated to inflict + untold suffering and pecuniary loss upon any community that takes stock + in it. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “That is the way that seven-up came to be set apart and + particularized in the statute-books of Kentucky as being a game not of + chance but of science, and therefore not punishable under the law,” + said Mr. K——-. “That verdict is of record, and holds + good to this day.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="franklin" id="franklin"></a>THE LATE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1870] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p275.jpg (93K)" src="images/p275.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + [“Never put off till to-morrow what you can do day after to-morrow + just as well.”—B. F.] + </p> + <p> + This party was one of those persons whom they call Philosophers. He was + twins, being born simultaneously in two different houses in the city of + Boston. These houses remain unto this day, and have signs upon them worded + in accordance with the facts. The signs are considered well enough to + have, though not necessary, because the inhabitants point out the two + birthplaces to the stranger anyhow, and sometimes as often as several + times in the same day. The subject of this memoir was of a vicious + disposition, and early prostituted his talents to the invention of maxims + and aphorisms calculated to inflict suffering upon the rising generation + of all subsequent ages. His simplest acts, also, were contrived with a + view to their being held up for the emulation of boys forever—boys + who might otherwise have been happy. It was in this spirit that he became + the son of a soap-boiler, and probably for no other reason than that the + efforts of all future boys who tried to be anything might be looked upon + with suspicion unless they were the sons of soap-boilers. With a + malevolence which is without parallel in history, he would work all day, + and then sit up nights, and let on to be studying algebra by the light of + a smoldering fire, so that all other boys might have to do that also, or + else have Benjamin Franklin thrown up to them. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p276.jpg (29K)" src="images/p276.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Not satisfied with these proceedings, he had a fashion of living wholly on + bread and water, and studying astronomy at meal-time—a thing which + has brought affliction to millions of boys since, whose fathers had read + Franklin’s pernicious biography. + </p> + <p> + His maxims were full of animosity toward boys. Nowadays a boy cannot + follow out a single natural instinct without tumbling over some of those + everlasting aphorisms and hearing from Franklin on the spot. If he buys + two cents’ worth of peanuts, his father says, “Remember what + Franklin has said, my son—‘A grout a day’s a penny a + year”’; and the comfort is all gone out of those peanuts. If + he wants to spin his top when he has done work, his father quotes, “Procrastination + is the thief of time.” If he does a virtuous action, he never gets + anything for it, because “Virtue is its own reward.” And that + boy is hounded to death and robbed of his natural rest, because Franklin, + said once, in one of his inspired flights of malignity: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + Early to bed and early to rise<br /> Makes a man healthy and wealthy and + wise. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + As if it were any object to a boy to be healthy and wealthy and wise on + such terms. The sorrow that that maxim has cost me, through my parents, + experimenting on me with it, tongue cannot tell. The legitimate result is + my present state of general debility, indigence, and mental aberration. My + parents used to have me up before nine o’clock in the morning + sometimes when I was a boy. If they had let me take my natural rest where + would I have been now? Keeping store, no doubt, and respected by all. + </p> + <p> + And what an adroit old adventurer the subject of this memoir was! In order + to get a chance to fly his kite on Sunday he used to hang a key on the + string and let on to be fishing for lightning. And a guileless public + would go home chirping about the “wisdom” and the “genius” + of the hoary Sabbath-breaker. If anybody caught him playing “mumblepeg” + by himself, after the age of sixty, he would immediately appear to be + ciphering out how the grass grew—as if it was any of his business. + My grandfather knew him well, and he says Franklin was always fixed—always + ready. If a body, during his old age, happened on him unexpectedly when he + was catching flies, or making mud-pies, or sliding on a cellar door, he + would immediately look wise, and rip out a maxim, and walk off with his + nose in the air and his cap turned wrong side before, trying to appear + absent-minded and eccentric. He was a hard lot. + </p> + <p> + He invented a stove that would smoke your head off in four hours by the + clock. One can see the almost devilish satisfaction he took in it by his + giving it his name. + </p> + <p> + He was always proud of telling how he entered Philadelphia for the first + time, with nothing in the world but two shillings in his pocket and four + rolls of bread under his arm. But really, when you come to examine it + critically, it was nothing. Anybody could have done it. + </p> + <p> + To the subject of this memoir belongs the honor of recommending the army + to go back to bows and arrows in place of bayonets and muskets. He + observed, with his customary force, that the bayonet was very well under + some circumstances, but that he doubted whether it could be used with + accuracy at a long range. + </p> + <p> + Benjamin Franklin did a great many notable things for his country, and + made her young name to be honored in many lands as the mother of such a + son. It is not the idea of this memoir to ignore that or cover it up. No; + the simple idea of it is to snub those pretentious maxims of his, which he + worked up with a great show of originality out of truisms that had become + wearisome platitudes as early as the dispersion from Babel; and also to + snub his stove, and his military inspirations, his unseemly endeavor to + make himself conspicuous when he entered Philadelphia, and his flying his + kite and fooling away his time in all sorts of such ways when he ought to + have been foraging for soap-fat, or constructing candles. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p278.jpg (24K)" src="images/p278.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I merely desired to do away with somewhat of the prevalent calamitous idea + among heads of families that Franklin acquired his great genius by working + for nothing, studying by moonlight, and getting up in the night instead of + waiting till morning like a Christian; and that this program, rigidly + inflicted, will make a Franklin of every father’s fool. It is time + these gentlemen were finding out that these execrable eccentricities of + instinct and conduct are only the evidences of genius, not the creators of + it. I wish I had been the father of my parents long enough to make them + comprehend this truth, and thus prepare them to let their son have an + easier time of it. When I was a child I had to boil soap, notwithstanding + my father was wealthy, and I had to get up early and study geometry at + breakfast, and peddle my own poetry, and do everything just as Franklin + did, in the solemn hope that I would be a Franklin some day. And here I + am. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p279.jpg (85K)" src="images/p279.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p280.jpg (95K)" src="images/p280.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p281.jpg (69K)" src="images/p281.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p282.jpg (82K)" src="images/p282.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="bloke" id="bloke"></a>MR. BLOKE’S ITEM + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + [written about 1865] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p167.jpg (130K)" src="images/p167.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Our esteemed friend, Mr. John William Bloke, of Virginia City, walked into + the office where we are sub-editor at a late hour last night, with an + expression of profound and heartfelt suffering upon his countenance, and, + sighing heavily, laid the following item reverently upon the desk, and + walked slowly out again. He paused a moment at the door, and seemed + struggling to command his feelings sufficiently to enable him to speak, + and then, nodding his head toward his manuscript, ejaculated in a broken + voice, “Friend of mine—oh! how sad!” and burst into + tears. We were so moved at his distress that we did not think to call him + back and endeavor to comfort him until he was gone, and it was too late. + The paper had already gone to press, but knowing that our friend would + consider the publication of this item important, and cherishing the hope + that to print it would afford a melancholy satisfaction to his sorrowing + heart, we stopped the press at once and inserted it in our columns: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> DISTRESSING ACCIDENT.—Last evening, about six o’clock, + as Mr. William Schuyler, an old and respectable citizen of South Park, + was leaving his residence to go down-town, as has been his usual custom + for many years with the exception only of a short interval in the spring + of 1850, during which he was confined to his bed by injuries received in + attempting to stop a runaway horse by thoughtlessly placing himself + directly in its wake and throwing up his hands and shouting, which if he + had done so even a single moment sooner, must inevitably have frightened + the animal still more instead of checking its speed, although disastrous + enough to himself as it was, and rendered more melancholy and + distressing by reason of the presence of his wife’s mother, who + was there and saw the sad occurrence notwithstanding it is at least + likely, though not necessarily so, that she should be reconnoitering in + another direction when incidents occur, not being vivacious and on the + lookout, as a general thing, but even the reverse, as her own mother is + said to have stated, who is no more, but died in the full hope of a + glorious resurrection, upwards of three years ago; aged eighty-six, + being a Christian woman and without guile, as it were, or property, in + consequence of the fire of 1849, which destroyed every single thing she + had in the world. But such is life. Let us all take warning by this + solemn occurrence, and let us endeavor so to conduct ourselves that when + we come to die we can do it. Let us place our hands upon our heart, and + say with earnestness and sincerity that from this day forth we will + beware of the intoxicating bowl.—‘First Edition of the + Californian.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + The head editor has been in here raising the mischief, and tearing his + hair and kicking the furniture about, and abusing me like a pickpocket. He + says that every time he leaves me in charge of the paper for half an hour + I get imposed upon by the first infant or the first idiot that comes + along. And he says that that distressing item of Mr. Bloke’s is + nothing but a lot of distressing bosh, and has no point to it, and no + sense in it, and no information in it, and that there was no sort of + necessity for stopping the press to publish it. + </p> + <p> + Now all this comes of being good-hearted. If I had been as unaccommodating + and unsympathetic as some people, I would have told Mr. Bloke that I + wouldn’t receive his communication at such a late hour; but no, his + snuffling distress touched my heart, and I jumped at the chance of doing + something to modify his misery. I never read his item to see whether there + was anything wrong about it, but hastily wrote the few lines which + preceded it, and sent it to the printers. And what has my kindness done + for me? It has done nothing but bring down upon me a storm of abuse and + ornamental blasphemy. + </p> + <p> + Now I will read that item myself, and see if there is any foundation for + all this fuss. And if there is, the author of it shall hear from me. + </p> + <p> + I have read it, and I am bound to admit that it seems a little mixed at a + first glance. However, I will peruse it once more. + </p> + <p> + I have read it again, and it does really seem a good deal more mixed than + ever. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p169.jpg (60K)" src="images/p169.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I have read it over five times, but if I can get at the meaning of it I + wish I may get my just deserts. It won’t bear analysis. There are + things about it which I cannot understand at all. It don’t say + whatever became of William Schuyler. It just says enough about him to get + one interested in his career, and then drops him. Who is William Schuyler, + anyhow, and what part of South Park did he live in, and if he started + down-town at six o’clock, did he ever get there, and if he did, did + anything happen to him? Is he the individual that met with the “distressing + accident”? Considering the elaborate circumstantiality of detail + observable in the item, it seems to me that it ought to contain more + information than it does. On the contrary, it is obscure—and not + only obscure, but utterly incomprehensible. Was the breaking of Mr. + Schuyler’s leg, fifteen years ago, the “distressing accident” + that plunged Mr. Bloke into unspeakable grief, and caused him to come up + here at dead of night and stop our press to acquaint the world with the + circumstance? Or did the “distressing accident” consist in the + destruction of Schuyler’s mother-in-law’s property in early + times? Or did it consist in the death of that person herself three years + ago (albeit it does not appear that she died by accident)? In a word, what + did that “distressing accident” consist in? What did that + driveling ass of a Schuyler stand in the wake of a runaway horse for, with + his shouting and gesticulating, if he wanted to stop him? And how the + mischief could he get run over by a horse that had already passed beyond + him? And what are we to take “warning” by? And how is this + extraordinary chapter of incomprehensibilities going to be a “lesson” + to us? And, above all, what has the intoxicating “bowl” got to + do with it, anyhow? It is not stated that Schuyler drank, or that his wife + drank, or that his mother-in-law drank, or that the horse drank—wherefore, + then, the reference to the intoxicating bowl? It does seem to me that if + Mr. Bloke had let the intoxicating bowl alone himself, he never would have + got into so much trouble about this exasperating imaginary accident. I + have read this absurd item over and over again, with all its insinuating + plausibility, until my head swims; but I can make neither head nor tail of + it. There certainly seems to have been an accident of some kind or other, + but it is impossible to determine what the nature of it was, or who was + the sufferer by it. I do not like to do it, but I feel compelled to + request that the next time anything happens to one of Mr. Bloke’s + friends, he will append such explanatory notes to his account of it as + will enable me to find out what sort of an accident it was and whom it + happened to. I had rather all his friends should die than that I should be + driven to the verge of lunacy again in trying to cipher out the meaning of + another such production as the above. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="medieval" id="medieval"></a>A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE [written about + 1868] + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p171.jpg (95K)" src="images/p171.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER I.<br /> <br /> THE SECRET REVEALED. + </h3> + <p> + It was night. Stillness reigned in the grand old feudal castle of + Klugenstein. The year 1222 was drawing to a close. Far away up in the + tallest of the castle’s towers a single light glimmered. A secret + council was being held there. The stern old lord of Klugenstein sat in a + chair of state meditating. Presently he said, with a tender accent: + </p> + <p> + “My daughter!” + </p> + <p> + A young man of noble presence, clad from head to heel in knightly mail, + answered: + </p> + <p> + “Speak, father!” + </p> + <p> + “My daughter, the time is come for the revealing of the mystery that + hath puzzled all your young life. Know, then, that it had its birth in the + matters which I shall now unfold. My brother Ulrich is the great Duke of + Brandenburgh. Our father, on his deathbed, decreed that if no son were + born to Ulrich, the succession should pass to my house, provided a son + were born to me. And further, in case no son were born to either, but only + daughters, then the succession should pass to Ulrich’s daughter, if + she proved stainless; if she did not, my daughter should succeed, if she + retained a blameless name. And so I, and my old wife here, prayed + fervently for the good boon of a son, but the prayer was vain. You were + born to us. I was in despair. I saw the mighty prize slipping from my + grasp—the splendid dream vanishing away. And I had been so hopeful! + Five years had Ulrich lived in wedlock, and yet his wife had borne no heir + of either sex. + </p> + <p> + “‘But hold,’ I said, ‘all is not lost.’ A + saving scheme had shot athwart my brain. You were born at midnight. Only + the leech, the nurse, and six waiting-women knew your sex. I hanged them + every one before an hour had sped. Next morning all the barony went mad + with rejoicing over the proclamation that a son was born to Klugenstein—an + heir to mighty Brandenburgh! And well the secret has been kept. Your + mother’s own sister nursed your infancy, and from that time forward + we feared nothing. + </p> + <p> + “When you were ten years old, a daughter was born to Ulrich. We + grieved, but hoped for good results from measles, or physicians, or other + natural enemies of infancy, but were always disappointed. She lived, she + throve—Heaven’s malison upon her! But it is nothing. We are + safe. For, Ha-ha! have we not a son? And is not our son the future Duke? + Our well-beloved Conrad, is it not so?—for, woman of + eight-and-twenty years—as you are, my child, none other name than + that hath ever fallen to you! + </p> + <p> + “Now it hath come to pass that age hath laid its hand upon my + brother, and he waxes feeble. The cares of state do tax him sore, + therefore he wills that you shall come to him and be already—Duke in + act, though not yet in name. Your servitors are ready—you journey + forth to-night. + </p> + <p> + “Now listen well. Remember every word I say. There is a law as old + as Germany, that if any woman sit for a single instant in the great ducal + chair before she hath been absolutely crowned in presence of the people, + SHE SHALL DIE! So heed my words. Pretend humility. Pronounce your + judgments from the Premier’s chair, which stands at the foot of the + throne. Do this until you are crowned and safe. It is not likely that your + sex will ever be discovered, but still it is the part of wisdom to make + all things as safe as may be in this treacherous earthly life.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my father, is it for this my life hath been a lie! Was it that + I might cheat my unoffending cousin of her rights? Spare me, father, spare + your child!” + </p> + <p> + “What, hussy! Is this my reward for the august fortune my brain has + wrought for thee? By the bones of my father, this puling sentiment of + thine but ill accords with my humor. + </p> + <p> + “Betake thee to the Duke, instantly! And beware how thou meddlest + with my purpose!” + </p> + <p> + Let this suffice, of the conversation. It is enough for us to know that + the prayers, the entreaties, and the tears of the gentle-natured girl + availed nothing. Neither they nor anything could move the stout old lord + of Klugenstein. And so, at last, with a heavy heart, the daughter saw the + castle gates close behind her, and found herself riding away in the + darkness surrounded by a knightly array of armed vassals and a brave + following of servants. + </p> + <p> + The old baron sat silent for many minutes after his daughter’s + departure, and then he turned to his sad wife and said: + </p> + <p> + “Dame, our matters seem speeding fairly. It is full three months + since I sent the shrewd and handsome Count Detzin on his devilish mission + to my brother’s daughter Constance. If he fail, we are not wholly + safe; but if he do succeed, no power can bar our girl from being Duchess e’en + though ill-fortune should decree she never should be Duke!” + </p> + <p> + “My heart is full of bodings, yet all may still be well.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush, woman! Leave the owls to croak. To bed with ye, and dream of + Brandenburgh and grandeur!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER II.<br /> <br /> FESTIVITY AND TEARS + </h3> + <p> + Six days after the occurrences related in the above chapter, the brilliant + capital of the Duchy of Brandenburgh was resplendent with military + pageantry, and noisy with the rejoicings of loyal multitudes, for Conrad, + the young heir to the crown, was come. The old duke’s heart was full + of happiness, for Conrad’s handsome person and graceful bearing had + won his love at once. The great halls of the palace were thronged with + nobles, who welcomed Conrad bravely; and so bright and happy did all + things seem, that he felt his fears and sorrows passing away and giving + place to a comforting contentment. + </p> + <p> + But in a remote apartment of the palace a scene of a different nature was + transpiring. By a window stood the duke’s only child, the Lady + Constance. Her eyes were red and swollen, and full of tears. She was + alone. Presently she fell to weeping anew, and said aloud: + </p> + <p> + “The villain Detzin is gone—has fled the dukedom! I could not + believe it at first, but alas! it is too true. And I loved him so. I dared + to love him though I knew the duke, my father, would never let me wed him. + I loved him—but now I hate him! With all my soul I hate him! Oh, + what is to become of me! I am lost, lost, lost! I shall go mad!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER III.<br /> <br /> THE PLOT THICKENS + </h3> + <p> + Few months drifted by. All men published the praises of the young Conrad’s + government and extolled the wisdom of his judgments, the mercifulness of + his sentences, and the modesty with which he bore himself in his great + office. The old duke soon gave everything into his hands, and sat apart + and listened with proud satisfaction while his heir delivered the decrees + of the crown from the seat of the premier. It seemed plain that one so + loved and praised and honored of all men as Conrad was, could not be + otherwise than happy. But, strangly enough, he was not. For he saw with + dismay that the Princess Constance had begun to love him! The love of the + rest of the world was happy fortune for him, but this was freighted with + danger! And he saw, moreover, that the delighted duke had discovered his + daughter’s passion likewise, and was already dreaming of a marriage. + Every day somewhat of the deep sadness that had been in the princess’s + face faded away; every day hope and animation beamed brighter from her + eye; and by and by even vagrant smiles visited the face that had been so + troubled. + </p> + <p> + Conrad was appalled. He bitterly cursed himself for having yielded to the + instinct that had made him seek the companionship of one of his own sex + when he was new and a stranger in the palace—when he was sorrowful + and yearned for a sympathy such as only women can give or feel. He now + began to avoid his cousin. But this only made matters worse, for, + naturally enough, the more he avoided her the more she cast herself in his + way. He marveled at this at first, and next it startled him. The girl + haunted him; she hunted him; she happened upon him at all times and in all + places, in the night as well as in the day. She seemed singularly anxious. + There was surely a mystery somewhere. + </p> + <p> + This could not go on forever. All the world was talking about it. The duke + was beginning to look perplexed. Poor Conrad was becoming a very ghost + through dread and dire distress. One day as he was emerging from a private + ante-room attached to the picture-gallery, Constance confronted him, and + seizing both his hands, in hers, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why do you avoid me? What have I done—what have I said, + to lose your kind opinion of me—for surely I had it once? Conrad, do + not despise me, but pity a tortured heart? I cannot,—cannot hold the + words unspoken longer, lest they kill me—I LOVE YOU, CONRAD! There, + despise me if you must, but they would be uttered!” + </p> + <p> + Conrad was speechless. Constance hesitated a moment, and then, + misinterpreting his silence, a wild gladness flamed in her eyes, and she + flung her arms about his neck and said: + </p> + <p> + “You relent! you relent! You can love me—you will love me! Oh, + say you will, my own, my worshipped Conrad!” + </p> + <p> + Conrad groaned aloud. A sickly pallor overspread his countenance, and he + trembled like an aspen. Presently, in desperation, he thrust the poor girl + from him, and cried: + </p> + <p> + “You know not what you ask! It is forever and ever impossible!” + And then he fled like a criminal, and left the princess stupefied with + amazement. A minute afterward she was crying and sobbing there, and Conrad + was crying and sobbing in his chamber. Both were in despair. Both saw ruin + staring them in the face. + </p> + <p> + By and by Constance rose slowly to her feet and moved away, saying: + </p> + <p> + “To think that he was despising my love at the very moment that I + thought it was melting his cruel heart! I hate him! He spurned me—did + this man—he spurned me from him like a dog!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER IV.<br /> <br /> THE AWFUL REVELATION + </h3> + <p> + Time passed on. A settled sadness rested once more upon the countenance of + the good duke’s daughter. She and Conrad were seen together no more + now. The duke grieved at this. But as the weeks wore away, Conrad’s + color came back to his cheeks and his old-time vivacity to his eye, and he + administered the government with a clear and steadily ripening wisdom. + </p> + <p> + Presently a strange whisper began to be heard about the palace. It grew + louder; it spread farther. The gossips of the city got hold of it. It + swept the dukedom. And this is what the whisper said: + </p> + <p> + “The Lady Constance hath given birth to a child!” + </p> + <p> + When the lord of Klugenstein heard it, he swung his plumed helmet thrice + around his head and shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Long live Duke Conrad!—for lo, his crown is sure from this + day forward! Detzin has done his errand well, and the good scoundrel shall + be rewarded!” + </p> + <p> + And he spread the tidings far and wide, and for eight-and-forty hours no + soul in all the barony but did dance and sing, carouse and illuminate, to + celebrate the great event, and all at proud and happy old Klugenstein’s + expense. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER V.<br /> <br /> THE FRIGHTFUL CATASTROPHE + </h3> + <p> + The trial was at hand. All the great lords and barons of Brandenburgh were + assembled in the Hall of Justice in the ducal palace. No space was left + unoccupied where there was room for a spectator to stand or sit. Conrad, + clad in purple and ermine, sat in the Premier’s chair, and on either + side sat the great judges of the realm. The old Duke had sternly commanded + that the trial of his daughter should proceed without favor, and then had + taken to his bed broken-hearted. His days were numbered. Poor Conrad had + begged, as for his very life, that he might be spared the misery of + sitting in judgment upon his cousin’s crime, but it did not avail. + </p> + <p> + The saddest heart in all that great assemblage was in Conrad’s + breast. + </p> + <p> + The gladdest was in his father’s, for unknown to his daughter + “Conrad,” the old Baron Klugenstein was come, and was among + the crowd of nobles, triumphant in the swelling fortunes of his house. + </p> + <p> + After the heralds had made due proclamation and the other preliminaries + had followed, the venerable Lord Chief justice said: + </p> + <p> + “Prisoner, stand forth!” + </p> + <p> + The unhappy princess rose, and stood unveiled before the vast multitude. + The Lord Chief Justice continued: + </p> + <p> + “Most noble lady, before the great judges of this realm it hath been + charged and proven that out of holy wedlock your Grace hath given birth + unto a child; and by our ancient law the penalty is death, excepting in + one sole contingency whereof his Grace the acting Duke, our good Lord + Conrad, will advertise you in his solemn sentence now; wherefore, give + heed.” + </p> + <p> + Conrad stretched forth the reluctant sceptre, and in the selfsame moment + the womanly heart beneath his robe yearned pityingly toward the doomed + prisoner, and the tears came into his eyes. He opened his lips to speak, + but the Lord Chief Justice said quickly: + </p> + <p> + “Not there, your Grace, not there! It is not lawful to pronounce + judgment upon any of the ducal line SAVE FROM THE DUCAL THRONE!” + </p> + <p> + A shudder went to the heart of poor Conrad, and a tremor shook the iron + frame of his old father likewise. CONRAD HAD NOT BEEN CROWNED—dared + he profane the throne? He hesitated and turned pale with fear. But it must + be done. Wondering eyes were already upon him. They would be suspicious + eyes if he hesitated longer. He ascended the throne. Presently he + stretched forth the sceptre again, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Prisoner, in the name of our sovereign lord, Ulrich, Duke of + Brandenburgh, I proceed to the solemn duty that hath devolved upon me. + Give heed to my words. By the ancient law of the land, except you produce + the partner of your guilt and deliver him up to the executioner, you must + surely die. Embrace this opportunity—save yourself while yet you + may. Name the father of your child!” + </p> + <p> + A solemn hush fell upon the great court—a silence so profound that + men could hear their own hearts beat. Then the princess slowly turned, + with eyes gleaming with hate, and pointing her finger straight at Conrad, + said: + </p> + <p> + “Thou art the man!” + </p> + <p> + An appalling conviction of his helpless, hopeless peril struck a chill to + Conrad’s heart like the chill of death itself. What power on earth + could save him! To disprove the charge he must reveal that he was a woman; + and for an uncrowned woman to sit in the ducal chair was death! At one and + the same moment he and his grim old father swooned and fell to the ground. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p178.jpg (128K)" src="images/p178.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The remainder of this thrilling and eventful story will NOT be found in + this or any other publication, either now or at any future time. + </p> + <p> + The truth is, I have got my hero (or heroine) into such a particularly + close place that I do not see how I am ever going to get him (or her) out + of it again—and therefore I will wash my hands of the whole + business, and leave that person to get out the best way that offers—or + else stay there. I thought it was going to be easy enough to straighten + out that little difficulty, but it looks different now. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="petition" id="petition"></a>PETITION CONCERNING COPYRIGHT + </h2> + <h3> + TO THE HONORABLE THE SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES IN CONGRESS + ASSEMBLED + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <b>Whereas</b>, The Constitution guarantees equal rights to all, backed + by the Declaration of Independence; and + </p> + <p> + <b>Whereas</b>, Under our laws, the right of property in real estate is + perpetual; and + </p> + <p> + <b>Whereas</b>, Under our laws, the right of property in the literary + result of a citizen’s intellectual labor is restricted to + forty-two years; and + </p> + <p> + <b>Whereas</b>, Forty-two years seems an exceedingly just and righteous + term, and a sufficiently long one for the retention of property; + </p> + <p> + <b>Therefore</b>, Your petitioner, having the good of his country solely + at heart, humbly prays that “equal rights” and fair and + equal treatment may be meted out to all citizens, by the restriction of + rights in all property, real estate included, to the beneficent term of + forty-two years. Then shall all men bless your honorable body and be + happy. And for this will your petitioner ever pray.<br /> <br /> + + MARK TWAIN. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + A PARAGRAPH NOT ADDED TO THE PETITION + </h3> + <p> + The charming absurdity of restricting property-rights in books to + forty-two years sticks prominently out in the fact that hardly any man’s + books ever live forty-two years, or even the half of it; and so, for the + sake of getting a shabby advantage of the heirs of about one Scott or + Burns or Milton in a hundred years, the lawmakers of the “Great” + Republic are content to leave that poor little pilfering edict upon the + statute-books. It is like an emperor lying in wait to rob a phoenix’s + nest, and waiting the necessary century to get the chance. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="afterdinner" id="afterdinner"></a>AFTER-DINNER SPEECH + </h2> + <h3> + [AT A FOURTH OF JULY GATHERING, IN LONDON, OF AMERICANS] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: I thank you for the compliment + which has just been tendered me, and to show my appreciation of it I will + not afflict you with many words. It is pleasant to celebrate in this + peaceful way, upon this old mother soil, the anniversary of an experiment + which was born of war with this same land so long ago, and wrought out to + a successful issue by the devotion of our ancestors. It has taken nearly a + hundred years to bring the English and Americans into kindly and mutually + appreciative relations, but I believe it has been accomplished at last. It + was a great step when the two last misunderstandings were settled by + arbitration instead of cannon. It is another great step when England + adopts our sewing-machines without claiming the invention—as usual. + It was another when they imported one of our sleeping-cars the other day. + And it warmed my heart more than I can tell, yesterday, when I witnessed + the spectacle of an Englishman ordering an American sherry cobbler of his + own free will and accord—and not only that but with a great brain + and a level head reminding the barkeeper not to forget the strawberries. + With a common origin, a common language, a common literature, a common + religion and—common drinks, what is longer needful to the cementing + of the two nations together in a permanent bond of brotherhood? + </p> + <p> + This is an age of progress, and ours is a progressive land. A great and + glorious land, too—a land which has developed a Washington, a + Franklin, a William M. Tweed, a Longfellow, a Motley, a Jay Gould, a + Samuel C. Pomeroy, a recent Congress which has never had its equal (in + some respects), and a United States Army which conquered sixty Indians in + eight months by tiring them out—which is much better than + uncivilized slaughter, God knows. We have a criminal jury system which is + superior to any in the world; and its efficiency is only marred by the + difficulty of finding twelve men every day who don’t know anything + and can’t read. And I may observe that we have an insanity plea that + would have saved Cain. I think I can say, and say with pride, that we have + some legislatures that bring higher prices than any in the world. + </p> + <p> + I refer with effusion to our railway system, which consents to let us + live, though it might do the opposite, being our owners. It only destroyed + three thousand and seventy lives last year by collisions, and twenty-seven + thousand two hundred and sixty by running over heedless and unnecessary + people at crossings. The companies seriously regretted the killing of + these thirty thousand people, and went so far as to pay for some of them—voluntarily, + of course, for the meanest of us would not claim that we possess a court + treacherous enough to enforce a law against a railway company. But, thank + Heaven, the railway companies are generally disposed to do the right and + kindly thing without compulsion. I know of an instance which greatly + touched me at the time. After an accident the company sent home the + remains of a dear distant old relative of mine in a basket, with the + remark, “Please state what figure you hold him at—and return + the basket.” Now there couldn’t be anything friendlier than + that. + </p> + <p> + But I must not stand here and brag all night. However, you won’t + mind a body bragging a little about his country on the fourth of July. It + is a fair and legitimate time to fly the eagle. I will say only one more + word of brag—and a hopeful one. It is this. We have a form of + government which gives each man a fair chance and no favor. With us no + individual is born with a right to look down upon his neighbor and hold + him in contempt. Let such of us as are not dukes find our consolation in + that. And we may find hope for the future in the fact that as unhappy as + is the condition of our political morality to-day, England has risen up + out of a far fouler since the days when Charles I. ennobled courtesans and + all political place was a matter of bargain and sale. There is hope for us + yet. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [At least the above is the speech which I was going to make, but our + minister, General Schenck, presided, and after the blessing, got up and + made a great long inconceivably dull harangue, and wound up by saying + that inasmuch as speech-making did not seem to exhilarate the guests + much, all further oratory would be dispensed with during the evening, + and we could just sit and talk privately to our elbow-neighbors and have + a good sociable time. It is known that in consequence of that remark + forty-four perfected speeches died in the womb. The depression, the + gloom, the solemnity that reigned over the banquet from that time forth + will be a lasting memory with many that were there. By that one + thoughtless remark General Schenck lost forty-four of the best friends + he had in England. More than one said that night, “And this is the + sort of person that is sent to represent us in a great sister empire!”] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="murderers" id="murderers"></a>LIONIZING MURDERERS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p182.jpg (135K)" src="images/p182.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I had heard so much about the celebrated fortune-teller Madame— + —, that I went to see her yesterday. She has a dark complexion + naturally, and this effect is heightened by artificial aids which cost her + nothing. She wears curls—very black ones, and I had an impression + that she gave their native attractiveness a lift with rancid butter. She + wears a reddish check handkerchief, cast loosely around her neck, and it + was plain that her other one is slow getting back from the wash. I presume + she takes snuff. At any rate, something resembling it had lodged among the + hairs sprouting from her upper lip. I know she likes garlic—I knew + that as soon as she sighed. She looked at me searchingly for nearly a + minute, with her black eyes, and then said: + </p> + <p> + “It is enough. Come!” + </p> + <p> + She started down a very dark and dismal corridor—I stepping close + after her. Presently she stopped, and said that, as the way was so crooked + and dark, perhaps she had better get a light. But it seemed ungallant to + allow a woman to put herself to so much trouble for me, and so I said: + </p> + <p> + “It is not worth while, madam. If you will heave another sigh, I + think I can follow it.” + </p> + <p> + So we got along all right. Arrived at her official and mysterious den, she + asked me to tell her the date of my birth, the exact hour of that + occurrence, and the color of my grandmother’s hair. I answered as + accurately as I could. Then she said: + </p> + <p> + “Young man, summon your fortitude—do not tremble. I am about + to reveal the past.” + </p> + <p> + “Information concerning the future would be, in a general way, more—” + </p> + <p> + “Silence! You have had much trouble, some joy, some good fortune, + some bad. Your great grandfather was hanged.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a l—” + </p> + <p> + “Silence! Hanged sir. But it was not his fault. He could not help + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you do him justice.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—grieve, rather, that the jury did. He was hanged. His star + crosses yours in the fourth division, fifth sphere. Consequently you will + be hanged also.” + </p> + <p> + “In view of this cheerful—” + </p> + <p> + “I must have silence. Yours was not, in the beginning, a criminal + nature, but circumstances changed it. At the age of nine you stole sugar. + At the age of fifteen you stole money. At twenty you stole horses. At + twenty-five you committed arson. At thirty, hardened in crime, you became + an editor. You are now a public lecturer. Worse things are in store for + you. You will be sent to Congress. Next, to the penitentiary. Finally, + happiness will come again—all will be well—you will be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + I was now in tears. It seemed hard enough to go to Congress; but to be + hanged—this was too sad, too dreadful. The woman seemed surprised at + my grief. I told her the thoughts that were in my mind. Then she comforted + me. + </p> + <p> + “Why, man,” she said, “hold up your head—you have + nothing to grieve about. Listen. + </p> + <p> + —[In this paragraph the fortune-teller details the exact history of + the Pike-Brown assassination case in New Hampshire, from the succoring and + saving of the stranger Pike by the Browns, to the subsequent hanging and + coffining of that treacherous miscreant. She adds nothing, invents + nothing, exaggerates nothing (see any New England paper for November, + 1869). This Pike-Brown case is selected merely as a type, to illustrate a + custom that prevails, not in New Hampshire alone, but in every state in + the Union—I mean the sentimental custom of visiting, petting, + glorifying, and snuffling over murderers like this Pike, from the day they + enter the jail under sentence of death until they swing from the gallows. + The following extract from the Temple Bar (1866) reveals the fact that + this custom is not confined to the United States.—“on December + 31, 1841, a man named John Johnes, a shoemaker, murdered his sweetheart, + Mary Hallam, the daughter of a respectable laborer, at Mansfield, in the + county of Nottingham. He was executed on March 23, 1842. He was a man of + unsteady habits, and gave way to violent fits of passion. The girl + declined his addresses, and he said if he did not have her no one else + should. After he had inflicted the first wound, which was not immediately + fatal, she begged for her life, but seeing him resolved, asked for time to + pray. He said that he would pray for both, and completed the crime. The + wounds were inflicted by a shoemaker’s knife, and her throat was cut + barbarously. After this he dropped on his knees some time, and prayed God + to have mercy on two unfortunate lovers. He made no attempt to escape, and + confessed the crime. After his imprisonment he behaved in a most decorous + manner; he won upon the good opinion of the jail chaplain, and he was + visited by the Bishop of Lincoln. It does not appear that he expressed any + contrition for the crime, but seemed to pass away with triumphant + certainty that he was going to rejoin his victim in heaven. He was visited + by some pious and benevolent ladies of Nottingham, some of whom declared + he was a child of God, if ever there was one. One of the ladies sent him a + white camellia to wear at his execution.”] + </p> + <p> + “You will live in New Hampshire. In your sharp need and distress the + Brown family will succor you—such of them as Pike the assassin left + alive. They will be benefactors to you. When you shall have grown fat upon + their bounty, and are grateful and happy, you will desire to make some + modest return for these things, and so you will go to the house some night + and brain the whole family with an ax. You will rob the dead bodies of + your benefactors, and disburse your gains in riotous living among the + rowdies and courtesans of Boston. Then you will be arrested, tried, + condemned to be hanged, thrown into prison. Now is your happy day. You + will be converted—you will be converted just as soon as every effort + to compass pardon, commutation, or reprieve has failed—and then!—Why, + then, every morning and every afternoon, the best and purest young ladies + of the village will assemble in your cell and sing hymns. This will show + that assassination is respectable. Then you will write a touching letter, + in which you will forgive all those recent Browns. This will excite the + public admiration. No public can withstand magnanimity. Next, they will + take you to the scaffold, with great éclat, at the head of an + imposing procession composed of clergymen, officials, citizens generally, + and young ladies walking pensively two and two, and bearing bouquets and + immortelles. You will mount the scaffold, and while the great concourse + stand uncovered in your presence, you will read your sappy little speech + which the minister has written for you. And then, in the midst of a grand + and impressive silence, they will swing you into per—Paradise, my + son. There will not be a dry eye on the ground. You will be a hero! Not a + rough there but will envy you. Not a rough there but will resolve to + emulate you. And next, a great procession will follow you to the tomb—will + weep over your remains—the young ladies will sing again the hymns + made dear by sweet associations connected with the jail, and, as a last + tribute of affection, respect, and appreciation of your many sterling + qualities, they will walk two and two around your bier, and strew wreaths + of flowers on it. And lo! you are canonized. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p185.jpg (65K)" src="images/p185.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Think of it, son-ingrate, assassin, robber of the dead, drunken brawler + among thieves and harlots in the slums of Boston one month, and the pet of + the pure and innocent daughters of the land the next! A bloody and hateful + devil—a bewept, bewailed, and sainted martyr—all in a month! + Fool!—so noble a fortune, and yet you sit here grieving!” + </p> + <p> + “No, madam,” I said, “you do me wrong, you do, indeed. I + am perfectly satisfied. I did not know before that my great-grandfather + was hanged, but it is of no consequence. He has probably ceased to bother + about it by this time—and I have not commenced yet. I confess, + madam, that I do something in the way of editing and lecturing, but the + other crimes you mention have escaped my memory. Yet I must have committed + them—you would not deceive a stranger. But let the past be as it + was, and let the future be as it may—these are nothing. I have only + cared for one thing. I have always felt that I should be hanged some day, + and somehow the thought has annoyed me considerably; but if you can only + assure me that I shall be hanged in New Hampshire—” + </p> + <p> + “Not a shadow of a doubt!” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, my benefactress!—excuse this embrace—you + have removed a great load from my breast. To be hanged in New Hampshire is + happiness—it leaves an honored name behind a man, and introduces him + at once into the best New Hampshire society in the other world.” + </p> + <p> + I then took leave of the fortune-teller. But, seriously, is it well to + glorify a murderous villain on the scaffold, as Pike was glorified in New + Hampshire? Is it well to turn the penalty for a bloody crime into a + reward? Is it just to do it? Is it safe? + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="newcrime" id="newcrime"></a>A NEW CRIME + </h2> + <h3> + LEGISLATION NEEDED + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p187.jpg (139K)" src="images/p187.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + This country, during the last thirty or forty years, has produced some of + the most remarkable cases of insanity of which there is any mention in + history. For instance, there was the Baldwin case, in Ohio, twenty-two + years ago. Baldwin, from his boyhood up, had been of a vindictive, + malignant, quarrelsome nature. He put a boy’s eye out once, and + never was heard upon any occasion to utter a regret for it. He did many + such things. But at last he did something that was serious. He called at a + house just after dark one evening, knocked, and when the occupant came to + the door, shot him dead, and then tried to escape, but was captured. Two + days before, he had wantonly insulted a helpless cripple, and the man he + afterward took swift vengeance upon with an assassin bullet had knocked + him down. Such was the Baldwin case. The trial was long and exciting; the + community was fearfully wrought up. Men said this spiteful, bad-hearted + villain had caused grief enough in his time, and now he should satisfy the + law. But they were mistaken; Baldwin was insane when he did the deed—they + had not thought of that. By the argument of counsel it was shown that at + half past ten in the morning on the day of the murder, Baldwin became + insane, and remained so for eleven hours and a half exactly. This just + covered the case comfortably, and he was acquitted. Thus, if an unthinking + and excited community had been listened to instead of the arguments of + counsel, a poor crazy creature would have been held to a fearful + responsibility for a mere freak of madness. Baldwin went clear, and + although his relatives and friends were naturally incensed against the + community for their injurious suspicions and remarks, they said let it go + for this time, and did not prosecute. The Baldwins were very wealthy. This + same Baldwin had momentary fits of insanity twice afterward, and on both + occasions killed people he had grudges against. And on both these + occasions the circumstances of the killing were so aggravated, and the + murders so seemingly heartless and treacherous, that if Baldwin had not + been insane he would have been hanged without the shadow of a doubt. As it + was, it required all his political and family influence to get him clear + in one of the cases, and cost him not less than ten thousand dollars to + get clear in the other. One of these men he had notoriously been + threatening to kill for twelve years. The poor creature happened, by the + merest piece of ill fortune, to come along a dark alley at the very moment + that Baldwin’s insanity came upon him, and so he was shot in the + back with a gun loaded with slugs. + </p> + <p> + Take the case of Lynch Hackett, of Pennsylvania. Twice, in public, he + attacked a German butcher by the name of Bemis Feldner, with a cane, and + both times Feldner whipped him with his fists. Hackett was a vain, + wealthy, violent gentleman, who held his blood and family in high esteem, + and believed that a reverent respect was due to his great riches. He + brooded over the shame of his chastisement for two weeks, and then, in a + momentary fit of insanity, armed himself to the teeth, rode into town, + waited a couple of hours until he saw Feldner coming down the street with + his wife on his arm, and then, as the couple passed the doorway in which + he had partially concealed himself, he drove a knife into Feldner’s + neck, killing him instantly. The widow caught the limp form and eased it + to the earth. Both were drenched with blood. Hackett jocosely remarked to + her that as a professional butcher’s recent wife she could + appreciate the artistic neatness of the job that left her in condition to + marry again, in case she wanted to. This remark, and another which he made + to a friend, that his position in society made the killing of an obscure + citizen simply an “eccentricity” instead of a crime, were + shown to be evidences of insanity, and so Hackett escaped punishment. The + jury were hardly inclined to accept these as proofs at first, inasmuch as + the prisoner had never been insane before the murder, and under the + tranquilizing effect of the butchering had immediately regained his right + mind; but when the defense came to show that a third cousin of Hackett’s + wife’s stepfather was insane, and not only insane, but had a nose + the very counterpart of Hackett’s, it was plain that insanity was + hereditary in the family, and Hackett had come by it by legitimate + inheritance. + </p> + <p> + Of course the jury then acquitted him. But it was a merciful providence + that Mrs. H.’s people had been afflicted as shown, else Hackett + would certainly have been hanged. + </p> + <p> + However, it is not possible to recount all the marvelous cases of insanity + that have come under the public notice in the last thirty or forty years. + There was the Durgin case in New Jersey three years ago. The servant girl, + Bridget Durgin, at dead of night, invaded her mistress’s bedroom and + carved the lady literally to pieces with a knife. Then she dragged the + body to the middle of the floor, and beat and banged it with chairs and + such things. Next she opened the feather beds, and strewed the contents + around, saturated everything with kerosene, and set fire to the general + wreck. She now took up the young child of the murdered woman in her blood + smeared hands and walked off, through the snow, with no shoes on, to a + neighbor’s house a quarter of a mile off, and told a string of wild, + incoherent stories about some men coming and setting fire to the house; + and then she cried piteously, and without seeming to think there was + anything suggestive about the blood upon her hands, her clothing, and the + baby, volunteered the remark that she was afraid those men had murdered + her mistress! Afterward, by her own confession and other testimony, it was + proved that the mistress had always been kind to the girl, consequently + there was no revenge in the murder; and it was also shown that the girl + took nothing away from the burning house, not even her own shoes, and + consequently robbery was not the motive. + </p> + <p> + Now, the reader says, “Here comes that same old plea of insanity + again.” But the reader has deceived himself this time. No such plea + was offered in her defense. The judge sentenced her, nobody persecuted the + governor with petitions for her pardon, and she was promptly hanged. + </p> + <p> + There was that youth in Pennsylvania, whose curious confession was + published some years ago. It was simply a conglomeration of incoherent + drivel from beginning to end, and so was his lengthy speech on the + scaffold afterward. For a whole year he was haunted with a desire to + disfigure a certain young woman, so that no one would marry her. He did + not love her himself, and did not want to marry her, but he did not want + anybody else to do it. He would not go anywhere with her, and yet was + opposed to anybody else’s escorting her. Upon one occasion he + declined to go to a wedding with her, and when she got other company, lay + in wait for the couple by the road, intending to make them go back or kill + the escort. After spending sleepless nights over his ruling desire for a + full year, he at last attempted its execution—that is, attempted to + disfigure the young woman. It was a success. It was permanent. In trying + to shoot her cheek (as she sat at the supper-table with her parents and + brothers and sisters) in such a manner as to mar its comeliness, one of + his bullets wandered a little out of the course, and she dropped dead. To + the very last moment of his life he bewailed the ill luck that made her + move her face just at the critical moment. And so he died, apparently + about half persuaded that somehow it was chiefly her own fault that she + got killed. This idiot was hanged. The plea of insanity was not offered. + </p> + <p> + Insanity certainly is on the increase in the world, and crime is dying + out. There are no longer any murders—none worth mentioning, at any + rate. Formerly, if you killed a man, it was possible that you were insane—but + now, if you, having friends and money, kill a man, it is evidence that you + are a lunatic. In these days, too, if a person of good family and high + social standing steals anything, they call it kleptomania, and send him to + the lunatic asylum. If a person of high standing squanders his fortune in + dissipation, and closes his career with strychnine or a bullet, “Temporary + Aberration” is what was the trouble with him. + </p> + <p> + Is not this insanity plea becoming rather common? Is it not so common that + the reader confidently expects to see it offered in every criminal case + that comes before the courts? And is it not so cheap, and so common, and + often so trivial, that the reader smiles in derision when the newspaper + mentions it? And is it not curious to note how very often it wins + acquittal for the prisoner? Of late years it does not seem possible for a + man to so conduct himself, before killing another man, as not to be + manifestly insane. If he talks about the stars, he is insane. If he + appears nervous and uneasy an hour before the killing, he is insane. If he + weeps over a great grief, his friends shake their heads, and fear that he + is “not right.” If, an hour after the murder, he seems ill at + ease, preoccupied, and excited, he is, unquestionably insane. + </p> + <p> + Really, what we want now, is not laws against crime, but a law against + insanity. There is where the true evil lies. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="dream" id="dream"></a>A CURIOUS DREAM [Written about 1870.] + </h2> + <h3> + CONTAINING A MORAL + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p192.jpg (99K)" src="images/p192.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Night before last I had a singular dream. I seemed to be sitting on a + doorstep (in no particular city perhaps) ruminating, and the time of night + appeared to be about twelve or one o’clock. The weather was balmy + and delicious. There was no human sound in the air, not even a footstep. + There was no sound of any kind to emphasize the dead stillness, except the + occasional hollow barking of a dog in the distance and the fainter answer + of a further dog. Presently up the street I heard a bony clack-clacking, + and guessed it was the castanets of a serenading party. In a minute more a + tall skeleton, hooded, and half clad in a tattered and moldy shroud, whose + shreds were flapping about the ribby latticework of its person, swung by + me with a stately stride and disappeared in the gray gloom of the + starlight. It had a broken and worm-eaten coffin on its shoulder and a + bundle of something in its hand. I knew what the clack-clacking was then; + it was this party’s joints working together, and his elbows knocking + against his sides as he walked. I may say I was surprised. Before I could + collect my thoughts and enter upon any speculations as to what this + apparition might portend, I heard another one coming for I recognized his + clack-clack. He had two-thirds of a coffin on his shoulder, and some foot + and head boards under his arm. I mightily wanted to peer under his hood + and speak to him, but when he turned and smiled upon me with his cavernous + sockets and his projecting grin as he went by, I thought I would not + detain him. He was hardly gone when I heard the clacking again, and + another one issued from the shadowy half-light. This one was bending under + a heavy gravestone, and dragging a shabby coffin after him by a string. + When he got to me he gave me a steady look for a moment or two, and then + rounded to and backed up to me, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Ease this down for a fellow, will you?” + </p> + <p> + I eased the gravestone down till it rested on the ground, and in doing so + noticed that it bore the name of “John Baxter Copmanhurst,” + with “May, 1839,” as the date of his death. Deceased sat + wearily down by me, and wiped his os frontis with his major maxillary—chiefly + from former habit I judged, for I could not see that he brought away any + perspiration. + </p> + <p> + “It is too bad, too bad,” said he, drawing the remnant of the + shroud about him and leaning his jaw pensively on his hand. Then he put + his left foot up on his knee and fell to scratching his anklebone absently + with a rusty nail which he got out of his coffin. + </p> + <p> + “What is too bad, friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, everything, everything. I almost wish I never had died.” + </p> + <p> + “You surprise me. Why do you say this? Has anything gone wrong? What + is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Matter! Look at this shroud-rags. Look at this gravestone, all + battered up. Look at that disgraceful old coffin. All a man’s + property going to ruin and destruction before his eyes, and ask him if + anything is wrong? Fire and brimstone!” + </p> + <p> + “Calm yourself, calm yourself,” I said. “It is too bad—it + is certainly too bad, but then I had not supposed that you would much mind + such matters, situated as you are.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear sir, I do mind them. My pride is hurt, and my comfort + is impaired—destroyed, I might say. I will state my case—I + will put it to you in such a way that you can comprehend it, if you will + let me,” said the poor skeleton, tilting the hood of his shroud + back, as if he were clearing for action, and thus unconsciously giving + himself a jaunty and festive air very much at variance with the grave + character of his position in life—so to speak—and in prominent + contrast with his distressful mood. + </p> + <p> + “Proceed,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I reside in the shameful old graveyard a block or two above you + here, in this street—there, now, I just expected that cartilage + would let go!—third rib from the bottom, friend, hitch the end of it + to my spine with a string, if you have got such a thing about you, though + a bit of silver wire is a deal pleasanter, and more durable and becoming, + if one keeps it polished—to think of shredding out and going to + pieces in this way, just on account of the indifference and neglect of one’s + posterity!”—and the poor ghost grated his teeth in a way that + gave me a wrench and a shiver—for the effect is mightily increased + by the absence of muffling flesh and cuticle. “I reside in that old + graveyard, and have for these thirty years; and I tell you things are + changed since I first laid this old tired frame there, and turned over, + and stretched out for a long sleep, with a delicious sense upon me of + being done with bother, and grief, and anxiety, and doubt, and fear, + forever and ever, and listening with comfortable and increasing + satisfaction to the sexton’s work, from the startling clatter of his + first spadeful on my coffin till it dulled away to the faint patting that + shaped the roof of my new home—delicious! My! I wish you could try + it to-night!” and out of my reverie deceased fetched me a rattling + slap with a bony hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, thirty years ago I laid me down there, and was happy. For + it was out in the country then—out in the breezy, flowery, grand old + woods, and the lazy winds gossiped with the leaves, and the squirrels + capered over us and around us, and the creeping things visited us, and the + birds filled the tranquil solitude with music. Ah, it was worth ten years + of a man’s life to be dead then! Everything was pleasant. I was in a + good neighborhood, for all the dead people that lived near me belonged to + the best families in the city. Our posterity appeared to think the world + of us. They kept our graves in the very best condition; the fences were + always in faultless repair, head-boards were kept painted or whitewashed, + and were replaced with new ones as soon as they began to look rusty or + decayed; monuments were kept upright, railings intact and bright, the + rose-bushes and shrubbery trimmed, trained, and free from blemish, the + walks clean and smooth and graveled. But that day is gone by. Our + descendants have forgotten us. My grandson lives in a stately house built + with money made by these old hands of mine, and I sleep in a neglected + grave with invading vermin that gnaw my shroud to build them nests withal! + I and friends that lie with me founded and secured the prosperity of this + fine city, and the stately bantling of our loves leaves us to rot in a + dilapidated cemetery which neighbors curse and strangers scoff at. See the + difference between the old time and this—for instance: Our graves + are all caved in now; our head-boards have rotted away and tumbled down; + our railings reel this way and that, with one foot in the air, after a + fashion of unseemly levity; our monuments lean wearily, and our + gravestones bow their heads discouraged; there be no adornments any more—no + roses, nor shrubs, nor graveled walks, nor anything that is a comfort to + the eye; and even the paintless old board fence that did make a show of + holding us sacred from companionship with beasts and the defilement of + heedless feet, has tottered till it overhangs the street, and only + advertises the presence of our dismal resting-place and invites yet more + derision to it. And now we cannot hide our poverty and tatters in the + friendly woods, for the city has stretched its withering arms abroad and + taken us in, and all that remains of the cheer of our old home is the + cluster of lugubrious forest trees that stand, bored and weary of a city + life, with their feet in our coffins, looking into the hazy distance and + wishing they were there. I tell you it is disgraceful! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p195.jpg (45K)" src="images/p195.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “You begin to comprehend—you begin to see how it is. While our + descendants are living sumptuously on our money, right around us in the + city, we have to fight hard to keep skull and bones together. Bless you, + there isn’t a grave in our cemetery that doesn’t leak—not + one. Every time it rains in the night we have to climb out and roost in + the trees, and sometimes we are wakened suddenly by the chilly water + trickling down the back of our necks. Then I tell you there is a general + heaving up of old graves and kicking over of old monuments, and scampering + of old skeletons for the trees! Bless me, if you had gone along there some + such nights after twelve you might have seen as many as fifteen of us + roosting on one limb, with our joints rattling drearily and the wind + wheezing through our ribs! Many a time we have perched there for three or + four dreary hours, and then come down, stiff and chilled through and + drowsy, and borrowed each other’s skulls to bail out our graves with—if + you will glance up in my mouth now as I tilt my head back, you can see + that my head-piece is half full of old dry sediment—how top-heavy + and stupid it makes me sometimes! Yes, sir, many a time if you had + happened to come along just before the dawn you’d have caught us + bailing out the graves and hanging our shrouds on the fence to dry. Why, I + had an elegant shroud stolen from there one morning—think a party by + the name of Smith took it, that resides in a plebeian graveyard over + yonder—I think so because the first time I ever saw him he hadn’t + anything on but a check shirt, and the last time I saw him, which was at a + social gathering in the new cemetery, he was the best-dressed corpse in + the company—and it is a significant fact that he left when he saw + me; and presently an old woman from here missed her coffin—she + generally took it with her when she went anywhere, because she was liable + to take cold and bring on the spasmodic rheumatism that originally killed + her if she exposed herself to the night air much. She was named Hotchkiss—Anna + Matilda Hotchkiss—you might know her? She has two upper front teeth, + is tall, but a good deal inclined to stoop, one rib on the left side gone, + has one shred of rusty hair hanging from the left side of her head, and + one little tuft just above and a little forward of her right ear, has her + underjaw wired on one side where it had worked loose, small bone of left + forearm gone—lost in a fight—has a kind of swagger in her gait + and a ‘gallus’ way of going with her arms akimbo and her + nostrils in the air—has been pretty free and easy, and is all + damaged and battered up till she looks like a queensware crate in ruins—maybe + you have met her?” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p197.jpg (25K)" src="images/p197.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “God forbid!” I involuntarily ejaculated, for somehow I was + not looking for that form of question, and it caught me a little off my + guard. But I hastened to make amends for my rudeness, and say, “I + simply meant I had not had the honor—for I would not deliberately + speak discourteously of a friend of yours. You were saying that you were + robbed—and it was a shame, too—but it appears by what is left + of the shroud you have on that it was a costly one in its day. How did—” + </p> + <p> + A most ghastly expression began to develop among the decayed features and + shriveled integuments of my guest’s face, and I was beginning to + grow uneasy and distressed, when he told me he was only working up a deep, + sly smile, with a wink in it, to suggest that about the time he acquired + his present garment a ghost in a neighboring cemetery missed one. This + reassured me, but I begged him to confine himself to speech thenceforth, + because his facial expression was uncertain. Even with the most elaborate + care it was liable to miss fire. Smiling should especially be avoided. + What he might honestly consider a shining success was likely to strike me + in a very different light. I said I liked to see a skeleton cheerful, even + decorously playful, but I did not think smiling was a skeleton’s + best hold. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, friend,” said the poor skeleton, “the facts are + just as I have given them to you. Two of these old graveyards—the + one that I resided in and one further along—have been deliberately + neglected by our descendants of to-day until there is no occupying them + any longer. Aside from the osteological discomfort of it—and that is + no light matter this rainy weather—the present state of things is + ruinous to property. We have got to move or be content to see our effects + wasted away and utterly destroyed. + </p> + <p> + “Now, you will hardly believe it, but it is true, nevertheless, that + there isn’t a single coffin in good repair among all my acquaintance—now + that is an absolute fact. I do not refer to low people who come in a pine + box mounted on an express-wagon, but I am talking about your high-toned, + silver-mounted burial-case, your monumental sort, that travel under black + plumes at the head of a procession and have choice of cemetery lots—I + mean folks like the Jarvises, and the Bledsoes and Burlings, and such. + They are all about ruined. The most substantial people in our set, they + were. And now look at them—utterly used up and poverty-stricken. One + of the Bledsoes actually traded his monument to a late barkeeper for some + fresh shavings to put under his head. I tell you it speaks volumes, for + there is nothing a corpse takes so much pride in as his monument. He loves + to read the inscription. He comes after a while to believe what it says + himself, and then you may see him sitting on the fence night after night + enjoying it. Epitaphs are cheap, and they do a poor chap a world of good + after he is dead, especially if he had hard luck while he was alive. I + wish they were used more. Now I don’t complain, but confidentially I + do think it was a little shabby in my descendants to give me nothing but + this old slab of a gravestone—and all the more that there isn’t + a compliment on it. It used to have: + </p> + <h3> + GONE TO HIS JUST REWARD’ + </h3> + <p> + on it, and I was proud when I first saw it, but by and by I noticed that + whenever an old friend of mine came along he would hook his chin on the + railing and pull a long face and read along down till he came to that, and + then he would chuckle to himself and walk off, looking satisfied and + comfortable. So I scratched it off to get rid of those fools. But a dead + man always takes a deal of pride in his monument. Yonder goes half a dozen + of the Jarvises now, with the family monument along. And Smithers and some + hired specters went by with his awhile ago. Hello, Higgins, good-by, old + friend! That’s Meredith Higgins—died in ‘44—belongs + to our set in the cemetery—fine old family— great-grandmother + was an Injun—I am on the most familiar terms with him—he didn’t + hear me was the reason he didn’t answer me. And I am sorry, too, + because I would have liked to introduce you. You would admire him. He is + the most disjointed, sway-backed, and generally distorted old skeleton you + ever saw, but he is full of fun. When he laughs it sounds like rasping two + stones together, and he always starts it off with a cheery screech like + raking a nail across a window-pane. Hey, Jones! That is old Columbus Jones—shroud + cost four hundred dollars—entire trousseau, including monument, + twenty-seven hundred. This was in the spring of ‘26. It was enormous + style for those days. Dead people came all the way from the Alleghanies to + see his things—the party that occupied the grave next to mine + remembers it well. Now do you see that individual going along with a piece + of a head-board under his arm, one leg-bone below his knee gone, and not a + thing in the world on? That is Barstow Dalhousie, and next to Columbus + Jones he was the most sumptuously outfitted person that ever entered our + cemetery. We are all leaving. We cannot tolerate the treatment we are + receiving at the hands of our descendants. They open new cemeteries, but + they leave us to our ignominy. They mend the streets, but they never mend + anything that is about us or belongs to us. Look at that coffin of mine—yet + I tell you in its day it was a piece of furniture that would have + attracted attention in any drawing-room in this city. You may have it if + you want it—I can’t afford to repair it. Put a new bottom in + her, and part of a new top, and a bit of fresh lining along the left side, + and you’ll find her about as comfortable as any receptacle of her + species you ever tried. No thanks—no, don’t mention it— + you have been civil to me, and I would give you all the property I have + got before I would seem ungrateful. Now this winding-sheet is a kind of a + sweet thing in its way, if you would like to—No? Well, just as you + say, but I wished to be fair and liberal—there’s nothing mean + about me. Good-by, friend, I must be going. I may have a good way to go + to-night—don’t know. I only know one thing for certain, and + that is that I am on the emigrant trail now, and I’ll never sleep in + that crazy old cemetery again. I will travel till I find respectable + quarters, if I have to hoof it to New Jersey. All the boys are going. It + was decided in public conclave, last night, to emigrate, and by the time + the sun rises there won’t be a bone left in our old habitations. + Such cemeteries may suit my surviving friends, but they do not suit the + remains that have the honor to make these remarks. My opinion is the + general opinion. If you doubt it, go and see how the departing ghosts + upset things before they started. They were almost riotous in their + demonstrations of distaste. Hello, here are some of the Bledsoes, and if + you will give me a lift with this tombstone I guess I will join company + and jog along with them—mighty respectable old family, the Bledsoes, + and used to always come out in six-horse hearses and all that sort of + thing fifty years ago when I walked these streets in daylight. Good-by, + friend.” + </p> + <p> + And with his gravestone on his shoulder he joined the grisly procession, + dragging his damaged coffin after him, for notwithstanding he pressed it + upon me so earnestly, I utterly refused his hospitality. I suppose that + for as much as two hours these sad outcasts went clacking by, laden with + their dismal effects, and all that time I sat pitying them. One or two of + the youngest and least dilapidated among them inquired about midnight + trains on the railways, but the rest seemed unacquainted with that mode of + travel, and merely asked about common public roads to various towns and + cities, some of which are not on the map now, and vanished from it and + from the earth as much as thirty years ago, and some few of them never had + existed anywhere but on maps, and private ones in real-estate agencies at + that. And they asked about the condition of the cemeteries in these towns + and cities, and about the reputation the citizens bore as to reverence for + the dead. + </p> + <p> + This whole matter interested me deeply, and likewise compelled my sympathy + for these homeless ones. And it all seeming real, and I not knowing it was + a dream, I mentioned to one shrouded wanderer an idea that had entered my + head to publish an account of this curious and very sorrowful exodus, but + said also that I could not describe it truthfully, and just as it + occurred, without seeming to trifle with a grave subject and exhibit an + irreverence for the dead that would shock and distress their surviving + friends. But this bland and stately remnant of a former citizen leaned him + far over my gate and whispered in my ear, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Do not let that disturb you. The community that can stand such + graveyards as those we are emigrating from can stand anything a body can + say about the neglected and forsaken dead that lie in them.” + </p> + <p> + At that very moment a cock crowed, and the weird procession vanished and + left not a shred or a bone behind. I awoke, and found myself lying with my + head out of the bed and “sagging” downward considerably—a + position favorable to dreaming dreams with morals in them, maybe, but not + poetry. + </p> + <p> + NOTE.—The reader is assured that if the cemeteries in his town are + kept in good order, this Dream is not leveled at his town at all, but is + leveled particularly and venomously at the next town. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p201.jpg (23K)" src="images/p201.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="truestory" id="truestory"></a>A TRUE STORY + </h2> + <h3> + REPEATED WORD FOR WORD AS I HEARD IT—[Written about 1876] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p202.jpg (118K)" src="images/p202.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + It was summer-time, and twilight. We were sitting on the porch of the + farmhouse, on the summit of the hill, and “Aunt Rachel” was + sitting respectfully below our level, on the steps—for she was our + Servant, and colored. She was of mighty frame and stature; she was sixty + years old, but her eye was undimmed and her strength unabated. She was a + cheerful, hearty soul, and it was no more trouble for her to laugh than it + is for a bird to sing. She was under fire now, as usual when the day was + done. That is to say, she was being chaffed without mercy, and was + enjoying it. She would let off peal after peal of laughter, and then sit + with her face in her hands and shake with throes of enjoyment which she + could no longer get breath enough to express. At such a moment as this a + thought occurred to me, and I said: + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Rachel, how is it that you’ve lived sixty years and + never had any trouble?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped quaking. She paused, and there was moment of silence. She + turned her face over her shoulder toward me, and said, without even a + smile her voice: + </p> + <p> + “Misto C——, is you in ’arnest?” + </p> + <p> + It surprised me a good deal; and it sobered my manner and my speech, too. + I said: + </p> + <p> + “Why, I thought—that is, I meant—why, you can’t + have had any trouble. I’ve never heard you sigh, and never seen your + eye when there wasn’t a laugh in it.” + </p> + <p> + She faced fairly around now, and was full earnestness. + </p> + <p> + “Has I had any trouble? Misto C——-, I’s gwyne to + tell you, den I leave it to you. I was bawn down ’mongst de slaves; + I knows all ’bout slavery, ’case I ben one of ’em my own + se’f. Well sah, my ole man—dat’s my husban’—he + was lovin’ an’ kind to me, jist as kind as you is to yo’ + own wife. An’ we had chil’en—seven chil’en—an’ + we loved dem chil’en jist de same as you loves yo’ chil’en. + Dey was black, but de Lord can’t make chil’en so black but + what dey mother loves ’em an’ wouldn’t give ’em + up, no, not for anything dat’s in dis whole world. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sah, I was raised in ole Fo’ginny, but my mother she + was raised in Maryland; an’ my souls she was turrible when she’d + git started! My lan! but she’d make de fur fly! When she’d git + into dem tantrums, she always had one word dat she said. She’d + straighten herse’f up an’ put her fists in her hips an’ + say, ‘I want you to understan’ dat I wa’n’t bawn + in the mash to be fool’ by trash! I’s one o’ de ole Blue + Hen’s Chickens, I is!’ Ca’se you see, dat’s what + folks dat’s bawn in Maryland calls deyselves, an’ dey’s + proud of it. Well, dat was her word. I don’t ever forgit it, beca’se + she said it so much, an’ beca’se she said it one day when my + little Henry tore his wris’ awful, and most busted ’is head, + right up at de top of his forehead, an’ de niggers didn’t fly + aroun’ fas’ enough to tend to him. An’ when dey talk’ + back at her, she up an’ she says, Look-a-heah!’ she says, + ‘I want you niggers to understan’ dat I wa’n’t + bawn in de mash be fool’ by trash! I’s one o’ de ole + Blue Hen’s chickens, I is!’ an’ den she clar’ dat + kitchen an’ bandage’ up de chile herse’f. So I says dat + word, too, when I’s riled. + </p> + <p> + “Well, bymeby my ole mistis say she’s broke, an’ she got + to sell all de niggers on de place. An’ when I heah dat dey gwyne to + sell us all off at oction in Richmon’, oh, de good gracious! I know + what dat mean!” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Rachel had gradually risen, while she warmed to her subject, and now + she towered above us, black against the stars. + </p> + <p> + “Dey put chains on us an’ put us on a stan’ as high as + dis po’ch—twenty foot high—an’ all de people stood + aroun’, crowds an’ crowds. An’ dey’d come up dah + an’ look at us all roun’, an’ squeeze our arm, an’ + make us git up an’ walk, an’ den say, Dis one too ole,’ + or ’Dis one lame,’ or Dis one don’t ’mount to + much.’ An’ dey sole my ole man, an’ took him away, an’ + dey begin to sell my chil’en an’ take dem away, an’ I + begin to cry; an’ de man say, ’Shet up yo’ damn + blubberin’,’ an’ hit me on de mouf wid his han’. + An’ when de las’ one was gone but my little Henry, I grab’ + him clost up to my breas’ so, an’ I ris up an’ says, + ‘You sha’nt take him away,’ I says; ‘I’ll + kill de man dat tetches him!’ I says. But my little Henry whisper an’ + say ‘I gwyne to run away, an’ den I work an’ buy yo’ + freedom.’ Oh, bless de chile, he always so good! But dey got him—dey + got him, de men did; but I took and tear de clo’es mos’ off of + ’em an’ beat ’em over de head wid my chain; an’ + dey give it to me too, but I didn’t mine dat. + </p> + <p> + “Well, dah was my ole man gone, an’ all my chil’en, all + my seven chil’en—an’ six of ’em I hain’t set + eyes on ag’in to dis day, an’ dat’s twenty-two year ago + las’ Easter. De man dat bought me b’long’ in Newbern, an’ + he took me dah. Well, bymeby de years roll on an’ de waw come. My + marster he was a Confedrit colonel, an’ I was his family’s + cook. So when de Unions took dat town, dey all run away an’ lef’ + me all by myse’f wid de other niggers in dat mons’us big + house. So de big Union officers move in dah, an’ dey ask me would I + cook for dem. ‘Lord bless you,’ says I, ’dat what I’s + for.’ + </p> + <p> + “Dey wa’n’t no small-fry officers, mine you, dey was de + biggest dey is; an’ de way dey made dem sojers mosey roun’! De + Gen’l he tole me to boss dat kitchen; an’ he say, ‘If + anybody come meddlin’ wid you, you jist make em walk chalk; don’t + you be afeared,’ he say; ‘you’s ’mong frens now.’ + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thinks to myse’f, if my little Henry ever got a + chance to run away, he’d make to de Norf, o’ course. So one + day I comes in dah whar de big officers was, in de parlor, an’ I + drops a kurtchy, so, an’ I up an’ tole ’em ’bout + my Henry, dey a-listenin’ to my troubles jist de same as if I was + white folks; an’ I says, ‘What I come for is beca’se if + he got away and got up Norf whar you gemmen comes from, you might ’a’ + seen him, maybe, an’ could tell me so as I could fine him ag’in; + he was very little, an’ he had a sk-yar on his lef’ wris’ + an’ at de top of his forehead.’ Den dey look mournful, an’ + de Gen’l says, ‘How long sence you los’ him?’ an’ + I say, ‘Thirteen year.’ Den de Gen’l say, ‘He + wouldn’t be little no mo’ now—he’s a man!’ + </p> + <p> + “I never thought o’ dat befo’! He was only dat little + feller to me yit. I never thought ’bout him growin’ up an’ + bein’ big. But I see it den. None o’ de gemmen had run acrost + him, so dey couldn’t do nothin’ for me. But all dat time, do’ + I didn’t know it, my Henry was run off to de Norf, years an’ + years, an’ he was a barber, too, an’ worked for hisse’f. + An’ bymeby, when de waw come he ups an’ he says: ‘I’s + done barberin’,’ he says, ‘I’s gwyne to fine my + ole mammy, less’n she’s dead.’ So he sole out an’ + went to whar dey was recruitin’, an’ hired hisse’f out + to de colonel for his servant; an’ den he went all froo de battles + everywhah, huntin’ for his ole mammy; yes, indeedy, he’d hire + to fust one officer an’ den another, tell he’d ransacked de + whole Souf; but you see I didn’t know <i>nuffin</i> bout dis. How + was <i>I</i> gwyne to know it? + </p> + <p> + “Well, one night we had a big sojer ball; de sojers dah at Newbern + was always havin’ balls an’ carryin’ on. Dey had ’em + in my kitchen, heaps o’ times, ’ca’se it was so big. + Mine you, I was down on sich doin’s; beca’se my place was wid + de officers, an’ it rasp me to have dem common sojers cavortin’ + roun’ in my kitchen like dat. But I alway’ stood aroun’ + an kep’ things straight, I did; an’ sometimes dey’d git + my dander up, an’ den I’d make ’em clar dat kitchen, + mine I TELL you! + </p> + <p> + “Well, one night—it was a Friday night—dey comes a whole + platoon f’m a nigger ridgment da was on guard at de house—de + house was head quarters, you know-an’ den I was jist a-bilin’ + mad? I was jist a-boomin’! I swelled aroun’, an swelled aroun’; + I jist was a-itchin’ for em to do somefin for to start me. An’ + dey was a-waltzin’ an a dancin’! my but dey was havin’ a + time! an I jist a-swellin’ an’ a-swellin’ up! Pooty + soon, ’long comes sich a spruce young nigger a-sailin’ down de + room wid a yaller wench roun’ de wais’; an’ roun an’ + roun’ an roun’ dey went, enough to make a body drunk to look + at ’em; an’ when dey got abreas’ o’ me, dey went + to kin’ o’ balancin’ aroun’ fust on one leg an’ + den on t’other, an’ smilin’ at my big red turban, an’ + makin’ fun, an’ I ups an’ says ’Git along wid you!—rubbage!’ + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p206.jpg (32K)" src="images/p206.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + De young man’s face kin’ o’ changed, all of a sudden, + for ’bout a second, but den he went to smilin’ ag’in, + same as he was befo’. Well, ’bout dis time, in comes some + niggers dat played music and b’long’ to de ban’, an’ + dey never could git along widout puttin’ on airs. An’ de very + fust air dey put on dat night, I lit into em! Dey laughed, an’ dat + made me wuss. De res’ o’ de niggers got to laughin’, an’ + den my soul alive but I was hot! My eye was jist a-blazin’! I jist + straightened myself up so—jist as I is now, plum to de ceilin’, + mos’—an’ I digs my fists into my hips, an’ I says, + ‘Look-a-heah!’ I says, ‘I want you niggers to understan’ + dat I wa’n’t bawn in de mash to be fool’ by trash! I’s + one o’ de ole Blue hen’s Chickens, I is!’—an’ + den I see dat young man stan’ a-starin’ an’ stiff, + lookin’ kin’ o’ up at de ceilin’ like he fo’got + somefin, an’ couldn’t ’member it no mo’. Well, I + jist march’ on dem niggers—so, lookin’ like a gen’l—an’ + dey jist cave’ away befo’ me an’ out at de do’. An’ + as dis young man a-goin’ out, I heah him say to another nigger, Jim,’ + he says, ‘you go ’long an’ tell de cap’n I be on + han’ ’bout eight o’clock in de mawnin’; dey’s + somefin on my mine,’ he says; ‘I don’t sleep no mo’ + dis night. You go ’long,’ he says, ‘an’ leave me + by my own se’f.’ + </p> + <p> + “Dis was ’bout one o’clock in de mawnin’. Well, + ’bout seven, I was up an’ on han’, gittin’ de + officers’ breakfast. I was a-stoopin’ down by de stove—jist + so, same as if yo’ foot was de stove—an’ I’d + opened de stove do’ wid my right han’—so, pushin’ + it back, jist as I pushes yo’ foot—an’ I’d jist + got de pan o’ hot biscuits in my han’ an’ was ’bout + to raise up, when I see a black face come aroun’ under mine, an’ + de eyes a-lookin’ up into mine, jist as I’s a-lookin’ up + clost under yo’ face now; an’ I jist stopped right dah, an’ + never budged! jist gazed an’ gazed so; an’ de pan begin to + tremble, an’ all of a sudden I knowed! De pan drop’ on de flo’ + an’ I grab his lef’ han’ an’ shove back his sleeve—jist + so, as I’s doin’ to you—an’ den I goes for his + forehead an’ push de hair back so, an’ ‘Boy!’ I + says, ‘if you an’t my Henry, what is you doin’ wid dis + welt on yo’ wris’ an’ dat sk-yar on yo’ forehead? + De Lord God ob heaven be praise’, I got my own ag’in!’ + </p> + <p> + “Oh no’ Misto C———, I hain’t had no + trouble. An’ no joy!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p207.jpg (12K)" src="images/p207.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="twins" id="twins"></a>THE SIAMESE TWINS + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1868.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p208.jpg (88K)" src="images/p208.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I do not wish to write of the personal habits of these strange creatures + solely, but also of certain curious details of various kinds concerning + them, which, belonging only to their private life, have never crept into + print. Knowing the Twins intimately, I feel that I am peculiarly well + qualified for the task I have taken upon myself. + </p> + <p> + The Siamese Twins are naturally tender and affectionate in disposition, + and have clung to each other with singular fidelity throughout a long and + eventful life. Even as children they were inseparable companions; and it + was noticed that they always seemed to prefer each other’s society + to that of any other persons. They nearly always played together; and, so + accustomed was their mother to this peculiarity, that, whenever both of + them chanced to be lost, she usually only hunted for one of them—satisfied + that when she found that one she would find his brother somewhere in the + immediate neighborhood. And yet these creatures were ignorant and + unlettered—barbarians themselves and the offspring of barbarians, + who knew not the light of philosophy and science. What a withering rebuke + is this to our boasted civilization, with its quarrelings, its wranglings, + and its separations of brothers! + </p> + <p> + As men, the Twins have not always lived in perfect accord; but still there + has always been a bond between them which made them unwilling to go away + from each other and dwell apart. They have even occupied the same house, + as a general thing, and it is believed that they have never failed to even + sleep together on any night since they were born. How surely do the habits + of a lifetime become second nature to us! The Twins always go to bed at + the same time; but Chang usually gets up about an hour before his brother. + By an understanding between themselves, Chang does all the indoor work and + Eng runs all the errands. This is because Eng likes to go out; Chang’s + habits are sedentary. However, Chang always goes along. Eng is a Baptist, + but Chang is a Roman Catholic; still, to please his brother, Chang + consented to be baptized at the same time that Eng was, on condition that + it should not “count.” During the war they were strong + partisans, and both fought gallantly all through the great struggle—Eng + on the Union side and Chang on the Confederate. They took each other + prisoners at Seven Oaks, but the proofs of capture were so evenly balanced + in favor of each, that a general army court had to be assembled to + determine which one was properly the captor and which the captive. The + jury was unable to agree for a long time; but the vexed question was + finally decided by agreeing to consider them both prisoners, and then + exchanging them. At one time Chang was convicted of disobedience of + orders, and sentenced to ten days in the guard-house, but Eng, in spite of + all arguments, felt obliged to share his imprisonment, notwithstanding he + himself was entirely innocent; and so, to save the blameless brother from + suffering, they had to discharge both from custody—the just reward + of faithfulness. + </p> + <p> + Upon one occasion the brothers fell out about something, and Chang knocked + Eng down, and then tripped and fell on him, whereupon both clinched and + began to beat and gouge each other without mercy. The bystanders + interfered, and tried to separate them, but they could not do it, and so + allowed them to fight it out. In the end both were disabled, and were + carried to the hospital on one and the same shutter. + </p> + <p> + Their ancient habit of going always together had its drawbacks when they + reached man’s estate, and entered upon the luxury of courting. Both + fell in love with the same girl. Each tried to steal clandestine + interviews with her, but at the critical moment the other would always + turn up. By and by Eng saw, with distraction, that Chang had won the girl’s + affections; and, from that day forth, he had to bear with the agony of + being a witness to all their dainty billing and cooing. But with a + magnanimity that did him infinite credit, he succumbed to his fate, and + gave countenance and encouragement to a state of things that bade fair to + sunder his generous heart-strings. He sat from seven every evening until + two in the morning, listening to the fond foolishness of the two lovers, + and to the concussion of hundreds of squandered kisses—for the + privilege of sharing only one of which he would have given his right hand. + But he sat patiently, and waited, and gaped, and yawned, and stretched, + and longed for two o’clock to come. And he took long walks with the + lovers on moonlight evenings—sometimes traversing ten miles, + notwithstanding he was usually suffering from rheumatism. He is an + inveterate smoker; but he could not smoke on these occasions, because the + young lady was painfully sensitive to the smell of tobacco. Eng cordially + wanted them married, and done with it; but although Chang often asked the + momentous question, the young lady could not gather sufficient courage to + answer it while Eng was by. However, on one occasion, after having walked + some sixteen miles, and sat up till nearly daylight, Eng dropped asleep, + from sheer exhaustion, and then the question was asked and answered. The + lovers were married. All acquainted with the circumstance applauded the + noble brother-in-law. His unwavering faithfulness was the theme of every + tongue. He had stayed by them all through their long and arduous + courtship; and when at last they were married, he lifted his hands above + their heads, and said with impressive unction, “Bless ye, my + children, I will never desert ye!” and he kept his word. Fidelity + like this is all too rare in this cold world. + </p> + <p> + By and by Eng fell in love with his sister-in-law’s sister, and + married her, and since that day they have all lived together, night and + day, in an exceeding sociability which is touching and beautiful to + behold, and is a scathing rebuke to our boasted civilization. + </p> + <p> + The sympathy existing between these two brothers is so close and so + refined that the feelings, the impulses, the emotions of the one are + instantly experienced by the other. When one is sick, the other is sick; + when one feels pain, the other feels it; when one is angered, the other’s + temper takes fire. We have already seen with what happy facility they both + fell in love with the same girl. Now Chang is bitterly opposed to all + forms of intemperance, on principle; but Eng is the reverse—for, + while these men’s feelings and emotions are so closely wedded, their + reasoning faculties are unfettered; their thoughts are free. Chang belongs + to the Good Templars, and is a hard-working, enthusiastic supporter of all + temperance reforms. But, to his bitter distress, every now and then Eng + gets drunk, and, of course, that makes Chang drunk too. This unfortunate + thing has been a great sorrow to Chang, for it almost destroys his + usefulness in his favorite field of effort. As sure as he is to head a + great temperance procession Eng ranges up alongside of him, prompt to the + minute, and drunk as a lord; but yet no more dismally and hopelessly drunk + than his brother, who has not tasted a drop. And so the two begin to hoot + and yell, and throw mud and bricks at the Good Templars; and, of course, + they break up the procession. It would be manifestly wrong to punish Chang + for what Eng does, and, therefore, the Good Templars accept the untoward + situation, and suffer in silence and sorrow. They have officially and + deliberately examined into the matter, and find Chang blameless. They have + taken the two brothers and filled Chang full of warm water and sugar and + Eng full of whisky, and in twenty-five minutes it was not possible to tell + which was the drunkest. Both were as drunk as loons—and on hot + whisky punches, by the smell of their breath. Yet all the while Chang’s + moral principles were unsullied, his conscience clear; and so all just men + were forced to confess that he was not morally, but only physically, + drunk. By every right and by every moral evidence the man was strictly + sober; and, therefore, it caused his friends all the more anguish to see + him shake hands with the pump and try to wind his watch with his + night-key. + </p> + <p> + There is a moral in these solemn warnings—or, at least, a warning in + these solemn morals; one or the other. No matter, it is somehow. Let us + heed it; let us profit by it. + </p> + <p> + I could say more of an instructive nature about these interesting beings, + but let what I have written suffice. + </p> + <p> + Having forgotten to mention it sooner, I will remark in conclusion that + the ages of the Siamese Twins are respectively fifty-one and fifty-three + years. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p212.jpg (13K)" src="images/p212.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="scottish" id="scottish"></a>SPEECH AT THE SCOTTISH BANQUET IN + LONDON + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1872.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + At the anniversary festival of the Scottish Corporation of London on + Monday evening, in response to the toast of “The Ladies,” MARK + TWAIN replied. The following is his speech as reported in the London + Observer: + </p> + <p> + I am proud, indeed, of the distinction of being chosen to respond to this + especial toast, to ‘The Ladies,’ or to women if you please, + for that is the preferable term, perhaps; it is certainly the older, and + therefore the more entitled to reverence [Laughter.] I have noticed that + the Bible, with that plain, blunt honesty which is such a conspicuous + characteristic of the Scriptures, is always particular to never refer to + even the illustrious mother of all mankind herself as a ‘lady,’ + but speaks of her as a woman. [Laughter.] It is odd, but you will find it + is so. I am peculiarly proud of this honor, because I think that the toast + to women is one which, by right and by every rule of gallantry, should + take precedence of all others—of the army, of the navy, of even + royalty itself—perhaps, though the latter is not necessary in this + day and in this land, for the reason that, tacitly, you do drink a broad + general health to all good women when you drink the health of the Queen of + England and the Princess of Wales. [Loud cheers.] I have in mind a poem + just now which is familiar to you all, familiar to everybody. And what an + inspiration that was (and how instantly the present toast recalls the + verses to all our minds) when the most noble, the most gracious, the + purest, and sweetest of all poets says: + </p> + <p> + “Woman! O woman!—er— Wom—” + </p> + <p> + [Laughter.] However, you remember the lines; and you remember how + feelingly, how daintily, how almost imperceptibly the verses raise up + before you, feature by feature, the ideal of a true and perfect woman; and + how, as you contemplate the finished marvel, your homage grows into + worship of the intellect that could create so fair a thing out of mere + breath, mere words. And you call to mind now, as I speak, how the poet, + with stern fidelity to the history of all humanity, delivers this + beautiful child of his heart and his brain over to the trials and sorrows + that must come to all, sooner or later, that abide in the earth, and how + the pathetic story culminates in that apostrophe—so wild, so + regretful, so full of mournful retrospection. The lines run thus: + </p> + <p> + “Alas!—alas!—a—alas! ——Alas!————alas!” + </p> + <p> + —and so on. [Laughter.] I do not remember the rest; but, taken + together, it seems to me that poem is the noblest tribute to woman that + human genius has ever brought forth—[laughter]—and I feel that + if I were to talk hours I could not do my great theme completer or more + graceful justice than I have now done in simply quoting that poet’s + matchless words. [Renewed laughter.] The phases of the womanly nature are + infinite in their variety. Take any type of woman, and you shall find in + it something to respect, something to admire, something to love. And you + shall find the whole joining you heart and hand. Who was more patriotic + than Joan of Arc? Who was braver? Who has given us a grander instance of + self-sacrificing devotion? Ah! you remember, you remember well, what a + throb of pain, what a great tidal wave of grief swept over us all when + Joan of Arc fell at Waterloo. [Much laughter.] Who does not sorrow for the + loss of Sappho, the sweet singer of Israel? [Laughter.] Who among us does + not miss the gentle ministrations, the softening influences, the humble + piety of Lucretia Borgia? [Laughter.] Who can join in the heartless libel + that says woman is extravagant in dress when he can look back and call to + mind our simple and lowly mother Eve arrayed in her modification of the + Highland costume. [Roars of laughter.] Sir, women have been soldiers, + women have been painters, women have been poets. As long as language lives + the name of Cleopatra will live. + </p> + <p> + And, not because she conquered George III.—[laughter]—but + because she wrote those divine lines: + </p> + <p> + “Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For God hath made them so.” + </p> + <p> + [More laughter.] The story of the world is adorned with the names of + illustrious ones of our own sex—some of them sons of St. Andrew, too—Scott, + Bruce, Burns, the warrior Wallace, Ben Nevis—[laughter]—the + gifted Ben Lomond, and the great new Scotchman, Ben Disraeli.* [Great + laughter.] Out of the great plains of history tower whole mountain ranges + of sublime women—the Queen of Sheba, Josephine, Semiramis, Sairey + Gamp; the list is endless—[laughter]—but I will not call the + mighty roll, the names rise up in your own memories at the mere + suggestion, luminous with the glory of deeds that cannot die, hallowed by + the loving worship of the good and the true of all epochs and all climes. + [Cheers.] Suffice it for our pride and our honor that we in our day have + added to it such names as those of Grace Darling and Florence Nightingale. + [Cheers.] Woman is all that she should be—gentle, patient, long + suffering, trustful, unselfish, full of generous impulses. It is her + blessed mission to comfort the sorrowing, plead for the erring, encourage + the faint of purpose, succor the distressed, uplift the fallen, befriend + the friendless—in a word, afford the healing of her sympathies and a + home in her heart for all the bruised and persecuted children of + misfortune that knock at its hospitable door. [Cheers.] And when I say, + God bless her, there is none among us who has known the ennobling + affection of a wife, or the steadfast devotion of a mother, but in his + heart will say, Amen! [Loud and prolonged cheering.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + —[* Mr. Benjamin Disraeli, at that time Prime Minister of England, + had just been elected Lord Rector of Glasgow University, and had made a + speech which gave rise to a world of discussion.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="ghost" id="ghost"></a>A GHOST STORY + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p215.jpg (117K)" src="images/p215.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I took a large room, far up Broadway, in a huge old building whose upper + stories had been wholly unoccupied for years until I came. The place had + long been given up to dust and cobwebs, to solitude and silence. I seemed + groping among the tombs and invading the privacy of the dead, that first + night I climbed up to my quarters. For the first time in my life a + superstitious dread came over me; and as I turned a dark angle of the + stairway and an invisible cobweb swung its slazy woof in my face and clung + there, I shuddered as one who had encountered a phantom. + </p> + <p> + I was glad enough when I reached my room and locked out the mold and the + darkness. A cheery fire was burning in the grate, and I sat down before it + with a comforting sense of relief. For two hours I sat there, thinking of + bygone times; recalling old scenes, and summoning half-forgotten faces out + of the mists of the past; listening, in fancy, to voices that long ago + grew silent for all time, and to once familiar songs that nobody sings + now. And as my reverie softened down to a sadder and sadder pathos, the + shrieking of the winds outside softened to a wail, the angry beating of + the rain against the panes diminished to a tranquil patter, and one by one + the noises in the street subsided, until the hurrying footsteps of the + last belated straggler died away in the distance and left no sound behind. + </p> + <p> + The fire had burned low. A sense of loneliness crept over me. I arose and + undressed, moving on tiptoe about the room, doing stealthily what I had to + do, as if I were environed by sleeping enemies whose slumbers it would be + fatal to break. I covered up in bed, and lay listening to the rain and + wind and the faint creaking of distant shutters, till they lulled me to + sleep. + </p> + <p> + I slept profoundly, but how long I do not know. All at once I found myself + awake, and filled with a shuddering expectancy. All was still. All but my + own heart—I could hear it beat. Presently the bedclothes began to + slip away slowly toward the foot of the bed, as if some one were pulling + them! I could not stir; I could not speak. Still the blankets slipped + deliberately away, till my breast was uncovered. Then with a great effort + I seized them and drew them over my head. I waited, listened, waited. Once + more that steady pull began, and once more I lay torpid a century of + dragging seconds till my breast was naked again. At last I roused my + energies and snatched the covers back to their place and held them with a + strong grip. I waited. By and by I felt a faint tug, and took a fresh + grip. The tug strengthened to a steady strain—it grew stronger and + stronger. My hold parted, and for the third time the blankets slid away. I + groaned. An answering groan came from the foot of the bed! Beaded drops of + sweat stood upon my forehead. I was more dead than alive. Presently I + heard a heavy footstep in my room—the step of an elephant, it seemed + to me—it was not like anything human. But it was moving from me—there + was relief in that. I heard it approach the door—pass out without + moving bolt or lock—and wander away among the dismal corridors, + straining the floors and joists till they creaked again as it passed—and + then silence reigned once more. + </p> + <p> + When my excitement had calmed, I said to myself, “This is a dream—simply + a hideous dream.” And so I lay thinking it over until I convinced + myself that it was a dream, and then a comforting laugh relaxed my lips + and I was happy again. I got up and struck a light; and when I found that + the locks and bolts were just as I had left them, another soothing laugh + welled in my heart and rippled from my lips. I took my pipe and lit it, + and was just sitting down before the fire, when—down went the pipe + out of my nerveless fingers, the blood forsook my cheeks, and my placid + breathing was cut short with a gasp! In the ashes on the hearth, side by + side with my own bare footprint, was another, so vast that in comparison + mine was but an infant’s! Then I had had a visitor, and the elephant + tread was explained. + </p> + <p> + I put out the light and returned to bed, palsied with fear. I lay a long + time, peering into the darkness, and listening.—Then I heard a + grating noise overhead, like the dragging of a heavy body across the + floor; then the throwing down of the body, and the shaking of my windows + in response to the concussion. In distant parts of the building I heard + the muffled slamming of doors. I heard, at intervals, stealthy footsteps + creeping in and out among the corridors, and up and down the stairs. + Sometimes these noises approached my door, hesitated, and went away again. + I heard the clanking of chains faintly, in remote passages, and listened + while the clanking grew nearer—while it wearily climbed the + stairways, marking each move by the loose surplus of chain that fell with + an accented rattle upon each succeeding step as the goblin that bore it + advanced. I heard muttered sentences; half-uttered screams that seemed + smothered violently; and the swish of invisible garments, the rush of + invisible wings. Then I became conscious that my chamber was invaded—that + I was not alone. I heard sighs and breathings about my bed, and mysterious + whisperings. Three little spheres of soft phosphorescent light appeared on + the ceiling directly over my head, clung and glowed there a moment, and + then dropped—two of them upon my face and one upon the pillow. They + spattered, liquidly, and felt warm. Intuition told me they had turned to + gouts of blood as they fell—I needed no light to satisfy myself of + that. Then I saw pallid faces, dimly luminous, and white uplifted hands, + floating bodiless in the air—floating a moment and then + disappearing. The whispering ceased, and the voices and the sounds, and a + solemn stillness followed. I waited and listened. I felt that I must have + light or die. I was weak with fear. I slowly raised myself toward a + sitting posture, and my face came in contact with a clammy hand! All + strength went from me apparently, and I fell back like a stricken invalid. + Then I heard the rustle of a garment—it seemed to pass to the door + and go out. + </p> + <p> + When everything was still once more, I crept out of bed, sick and feeble, + and lit the gas with a hand that trembled as if it were aged with a + hundred years. The light brought some little cheer to my spirits. I sat + down and fell into a dreamy contemplation of that great footprint in the + ashes. By and by its outlines began to waver and grow dim. I glanced up + and the broad gas-flame was slowly wilting away. In the same moment I + heard that elephantine tread again. I noted its approach, nearer and + nearer, along the musty halls, and dimmer and dimmer the light waned. The + tread reached my very door and paused—the light had dwindled to a + sickly blue, and all things about me lay in a spectral twilight. The door + did not open, and yet I felt a faint gust of air fan my cheek, and + presently was conscious of a huge, cloudy presence before me. I watched it + with fascinated eyes. A pale glow stole over the Thing; gradually its + cloudy folds took shape—an arm appeared, then legs, then a body, and + last a great sad face looked out of the vapor. Stripped of its filmy + housings, naked, muscular and comely, the majestic Cardiff Giant loomed + above me! + </p> + <p> + All my misery vanished—for a child might know that no harm could + come with that benignant countenance. My cheerful spirits returned at + once, and in sympathy with them the gas flamed up brightly again. Never a + lonely outcast was so glad to welcome company as I was to greet the + friendly giant. I said: + </p> + <p> + “Why, is it nobody but you? Do you know, I have been scared to death + for the last two or three hours? I am most honestly glad to see you. I + wish I had a chair—Here, here, don’t try to sit down in that + thing—” + </p> + <p> + But it was too late. He was in it before I could stop him and down he went—I + never saw a chair shivered so in my life. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, stop, you’ll ruin ev—” + </p> + <p> + Too late again. There was another crash, and another chair was resolved + into its original elements. + </p> + <p> + “Confound it, haven’t you got any judgment at all? Do you want + to ruin all the furniture on the place? Here, here, you petrified fool—” + </p> + <p> + But it was no use. Before I could arrest him he had sat down on the bed, + and it was a melancholy ruin. + </p> + <p> + “Now what sort of a way is that to do? First you come lumbering + about the place bringing a legion of vagabond goblins along with you to + worry me to death, and then when I overlook an indelicacy of costume which + would not be tolerated anywhere by cultivated people except in a + respectable theater, and not even there if the nudity were of your sex, + you repay me by wrecking all the furniture you can find to sit down on. + And why will you? You damage yourself as much as you do me. You have + broken off the end of your spinal column, and littered up the floor with + chips of your hams till the place looks like a marble yard. You ought to + be ashamed of yourself—you are big enough to know better.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will not break any more furniture. But what am I to do? I + have not had a chance to sit down for a century.” And the tears came + into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Poor devil,” I said, “I should not have been so harsh + with you. And you are an orphan, too, no doubt. But sit down on the floor + here—nothing else can stand your weight—and besides, we cannot + be sociable with you away up there above me; I want you down where I can + perch on this high counting-house stool and gossip with you face to face.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p219.jpg (32K)" src="images/p219.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + So he sat down on the floor, and lit a pipe which I gave him, threw one of + my red blankets over his shoulders, inverted my sitz-bath on his head, + helmet fashion, and made himself picturesque and comfortable. Then he + crossed his ankles, while I renewed the fire, and exposed the flat, + honeycombed bottoms of his prodigious feet to the grateful warmth. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with the bottom of your feet and the back of + your legs, that they are gouged up so?” + </p> + <p> + “Infernal chilblains—I caught them clear up to the back of my + head, roosting out there under Newell’s farm. But I love the place; + I love it as one loves his old home. There is no peace for me like the + peace I feel when I am there.” + </p> + <p> + We talked along for half an hour, and then I noticed that he looked tired, + and spoke of it. + </p> + <p> + “Tired?” he said. “Well, I should think so. And now I + will tell you all about it, since you have treated me so well. I am the + spirit of the Petrified Man that lies across the street there in the + museum. I am the ghost of the Cardiff Giant. I can have no rest, no peace, + till they have given that poor body burial again. Now what was the most + natural thing for me to do, to make men satisfy this wish? Terrify them + into it!— haunt the place where the body lay! So I haunted the + museum night after night. I even got other spirits to help me. But it did + no good, for nobody ever came to the museum at midnight. Then it occurred + to me to come over the way and haunt this place a little. I felt that if I + ever got a hearing I must succeed, for I had the most efficient company + that perdition could furnish. Night after night we have shivered around + through these mildewed halls, dragging chains, groaning, whispering, + tramping up and down stairs, till, to tell you the truth, I am almost worn + out. But when I saw a light in your room to-night I roused my energies + again and went at it with a deal of the old freshness. But I am tired out—entirely + fagged out. Give me, I beseech you, give me some hope!” + </p> + <p> + I lit off my perch in a burst of excitement, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “This transcends everything! everything that ever did occur! Why you + poor blundering old fossil, you have had all your trouble for nothing—you + have been haunting a plaster cast of yourself—the real Cardiff Giant + is in Albany!—[A fact. The original fraud was ingeniously and + fraudfully duplicated, and exhibited in New York as the “only + genuine” Cardiff Giant (to the unspeakable disgust of the owners of + the real colossus) at the very same time that the latter was drawing + crowds at a museum in Albany,]—Confound it, don’t you know + your own remains?” + </p> + <p> + I never saw such an eloquent look of shame, of pitiable humiliation, + overspread a countenance before. + </p> + <p> + The Petrified Man rose slowly to his feet, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Honestly, is that true?” + </p> + <p> + “As true as I am sitting here.” + </p> + <p> + He took the pipe from his mouth and laid it on the mantel, then stood + irresolute a moment (unconsciously, from old habit, thrusting his hands + where his pantaloons pockets should have been, and meditatively dropping + his chin on his breast) and finally said: + </p> + <p> + “Well—I never felt so absurd before. The Petrified Man has + sold everybody else, and now the mean fraud has ended by selling its own + ghost! My son, if there is any charity left in your heart for a poor + friendless phantom like me, don’t let this get out. Think how you + would feel if you had made such an ass of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + I heard his stately tramp die away, step by step down the stairs and out + into the deserted street, and felt sorry that he was gone, poor fellow—and + sorrier still that he had carried off my red blanket and my bath-tub. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="venus" id="venus"></a>THE CAPITOLINE VENUS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER I. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p222.jpg (121K)" src="images/p222.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + [Scene-An Artist’s Studio in Rome.] + </p> + <p> + “Oh, George, I do love you!” + </p> + <p> + “Bless your dear heart, Mary, I know that—why is your father + so obdurate?” + </p> + <p> + “George, he means well, but art is folly to him—he only + understands groceries. He thinks you would starve me.” + </p> + <p> + “Confound his wisdom—it savors of inspiration. Why am I not a + money-making bowelless grocer, instead of a divinely gifted sculptor with + nothing to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not despond, Georgy, dear—all his prejudices will fade + away as soon as you shall have acquired fifty thousand dol—” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty thousand demons! Child, I am in arrears for my board!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER II. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + [Scene-A Dwelling in Rome.] + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, it is useless to talk. I haven’t anything + against you, but I can’t let my daughter marry a hash of love, art, + and starvation—I believe you have nothing else to offer.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I am poor, I grant you. But is fame nothing? The Hon. Bellamy + Foodle of Arkansas says that my new statue of America is a clever piece of + sculpture, and he is satisfied that my name will one day be famous.” + </p> + <p> + “Bosh! What does that Arkansas ass know about it? Fame’s + nothing—the market price of your marble scarecrow is the thing to + look at. It took you six months to chisel it, and you can’t sell it + for a hundred dollars. No, sir! Show me fifty thousand dollars and you can + have my daughter—otherwise she marries young Simper. You have just + six months to raise the money in. Good morning, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! Woe is me!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER III. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + [ Scene-The Studio.] + </p> + <p> + “Oh, John, friend of my boyhood, I am the unhappiest of men.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re a simpleton!” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing left to love but my poor statue of America—and + see, even she has no sympathy for me in her cold marble countenance—so + beautiful and so heartless!” + </p> + <p> + “You’re a dummy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, John!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, fudge! Didn’t you say you had six months to raise the + money in?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t deride my agony, John. If I had six centuries what good + would it do? How could it help a poor wretch without name, capital, or + friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Idiot! Coward! Baby! Six months to raise the money in—and + five will do!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you insane?” + </p> + <p> + “Six months—an abundance. Leave it to me. I’ll raise it.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, John? How on earth can you raise such a monstrous + sum for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let that be my business, and not meddle? Will you leave + the thing in my hands? Will you swear to submit to whatever I do? Will you + pledge me to find no fault with my actions?” + </p> + <p> + “I am dizzy—bewildered—but I swear.” + </p> + <p> + John took up a hammer and deliberately smashed the nose of America! He + made another pass and two of her fingers fell to the floor—another, + and part of an ear came away—another, and a row of toes was mangled + and dismembered—another, and the left leg, from the knee down, lay a + fragmentary ruin! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p224.jpg (40K)" src="images/p224.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + John put on his hat and departed. + </p> + <p> + George gazed speechless upon the battered and grotesque nightmare before + him for the space of thirty seconds, and then wilted to the floor and went + into convulsions. + </p> + <p> + John returned presently with a carriage, got the broken-hearted artist and + the broken-legged statue aboard, and drove off, whistling low and + tranquilly. + </p> + <p> + He left the artist at his lodgings, and drove off and disappeared down the + Via Quirinalis with the statue. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER IV. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + [Scene—The Studio.] + </p> + <p> + “The six months will be up at two o’clock to-day! Oh, agony! + My life is blighted. I would that I were dead. I had no supper yesterday. + I have had no breakfast to-day. I dare not enter an eating-house. And + hungry? —don’t mention it! My bootmaker duns me to death—my + tailor duns me—my landlord haunts me. I am miserable. I haven’t + seen John since that awful day. She smiles on me tenderly when we meet in + the great thoroughfares, but her old flint of a father makes her look in + the other direction in short order. Now who is knocking at that door? Who + is come to persecute me? That malignant villain the bootmaker, I’ll + warrant. Come in!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, happiness attend your highness—Heaven be propitious to + your grace! I have brought my lord’s new boots—ah, say nothing + about the pay, there is no hurry, none in the world. Shall be proud if my + noble lord will continue to honor me with his custom—ah, adieu!” + </p> + <p> + “Brought the boots himself! Don’t want his pay! Takes his + leave with a bow and a scrape fit to honor majesty withal! Desires a + continuance of my custom! Is the world coming to an end? Of all the—come + in!” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, signore, but I have brought your new suit of clothes for—” + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pardons for this intrusion, your worship. But I have + prepared the beautiful suite of rooms below for you—this wretched + den is but ill suited to—” + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + “I have called to say that your credit at our bank, some time since + unfortunately interrupted, is entirely and most satisfactorily restored, + and we shall be most happy if you will draw upon us for any—” + </p> + <p> + “COME IN!” + </p> + <p> + “My noble boy, she is yours! She’ll be here in a moment! Take + her—marry her—love her—be happy!—God bless you + both! Hip, hip, hur—” + </p> + <p> + “COME IN!!!!!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, George, my own darling, we are saved!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mary, my own darling, we are saved—but I’ll swear I + don’t know why nor how!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER V. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + [Scene-A Roman Cafe.] + </p> + <p> + One of a group of American gentlemen reads and translates from the weekly + edition of ‘Il Slangwhanger di Roma’ as follows: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> WONDERFUL DISCOVERY—Some six months ago Signor John Smitthe, + an American gentleman now some years a resident of Rome, purchased for a + trifle a small piece of ground in the Campagna, just beyond the tomb of + the Scipio family, from the owner, a bankrupt relative of the Princess + Borghese. Mr. Smitthe afterward went to the Minister of the Public + Records and had the piece of ground transferred to a poor American + artist named George Arnold, explaining that he did it as payment and + satisfaction for pecuniary damage accidentally done by him long since + upon property belonging to Signor Arnold, and further observed that he + would make additional satisfaction by improving the ground for Signor + A., at his own charge and cost. Four weeks ago, while making some + necessary excavations upon the property, Signor Smitthe unearthed the + most remarkable ancient statue that has ever been added to the opulent + art treasures of Rome. It was an exquisite figure of a woman, and though + sadly stained by the soil and the mold of ages, no eye can look unmoved + upon its ravishing beauty. The nose, the left leg from the knee down, an + ear, and also the toes of the right foot and two fingers of one of the + hands were gone, but otherwise the noble figure was in a remarkable + state of preservation. The government at once took military possession + of the statue, and appointed a commission of art-critics, antiquaries, + and cardinal princes of the church to assess its value and determine the + remuneration that must go to the owner of the ground in which it was + found. The whole affair was kept a profound secret until last night. In + the mean time the commission sat with closed doors and deliberated. Last + night they decided unanimously that the statue is a Venus, and the work + of some unknown but sublimely gifted artist of the third century before + Christ. They consider it the most faultless work of art the world has + any knowledge of.<br /> <br /> At midnight they held a final conference + and decided that the Venus was worth the enormous sum of ten million + francs! In accordance with Roman law and Roman usage, the government + being half-owner in all works of art found in the Campagna, the State + has naught to do but pay five million francs to Mr. Arnold and take + permanent possession of the beautiful statue. This morning the Venus + will be removed to the Capitol, there to remain, and at noon the + commission will wait upon Signor Arnold with His Holiness the Pope’s + order upon the Treasury for the princely sum of five million francs in + gold! + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Chorus of Voices.—“Luck! It’s no name for it!” + </p> + <p> + Another Voice.—“Gentlemen, I propose that we immediately form + an American joint-stock company for the purchase of lands and excavations + of statues here, with proper connections in Wall Street to bull and bear + the stock.” + </p> + <p> + All.—“Agreed.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CHAPTER VI. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + [Scene—The Roman Capitol Ten Years Later.] + </p> + <p> + “Dearest Mary, this is the most celebrated statue in the world. This + is the renowned ‘Capitoline Venus’ you’ve heard so much + about. Here she is with her little blemishes ‘restored’ (that + is, patched) by the most noted Roman artists—and the mere fact that + they did the humble patching of so noble a creation will make their names + illustrious while the world stands. How strange it seems—this place! + The day before I last stood here, ten happy years ago, I wasn’t a + rich man bless your soul, I hadn’t a cent. And yet I had a good deal + to do with making Rome mistress of this grandest work of ancient art the + world contains.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p227.jpg (72K)" src="images/p227.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “The worshiped, the illustrious Capitoline Venus—and what a + sum she is valued at! Ten millions of francs!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—now she is.” + </p> + <p> + “And oh, Georgy, how divinely beautiful she is!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes but nothing to what she was before that blessed John Smith + broke her leg and battered her nose. Ingenious Smith!—gifted Smith!—noble + Smith! Author of all our bliss! Hark! Do you know what that wheeze means? + Mary, that cub has got the whooping-cough. Will you never learn to take + care of the children!” + </p> + <p> + THE END + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + The Capitoline Venus is still in the Capitol at Rome, and is still the + most charming and most illustrious work of ancient art the world can boast + of. But if ever it shall be your fortune to stand before it and go into + the customary ecstasies over it, don’t permit this true and secret + history of its origin to mar your bliss—and when you read about a + gigantic Petrified man being dug up near Syracuse, in the State of New + York, or near any other place, keep your own counsel—and if the + Barnum that buried him there offers to sell to you at an enormous sum, don’t + you buy. Send him to the Pope! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [NOTE.—The above sketch was written at the time the famous swindle + of the “Petrified Giant” was the sensation of the day in the + United States] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="insurance" id="insurance"></a>SPEECH ON ACCIDENT INSURANCE + </h2> + <h3> + DELIVERED IN HARTFORD, AT A DINNER TO CORNELIUS WALFORD, OF LONDON + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + GENTLEMEN: I am glad, indeed, to assist in welcoming the distinguished + guest of this occasion to a city whose fame as an insurance center has + extended to all lands, and given us the name of being a quadruple band of + brothers working sweetly hand in hand—the Colt’s Arms Company + making the destruction of our race easy and convenient, our life insurance + citizens paying for the victims when they pass away, Mr. Batterson + perpetuating their memory with his stately monuments, and our + fire-insurance comrades taking care of their hereafter. I am glad to + assist in welcoming our guest—first, because he is an Englishman, + and I owe a heavy debt of hospitality to certain of his fellow-countrymen; + and secondly, because he is in sympathy with insurance and has been the + means of making many other men cast their sympathies in the same + direction. + </p> + <p> + Certainly there is no nobler field for human effort than the insurance + line of business—especially accident insurance. Ever since I have + been a director in an accident-insurance company I have felt that I am a + better man. Life has seemed more precious. Accidents have assumed a + kindlier aspect. Distressing special providences have lost half their + horror. I look upon a cripple now with affectionate interest—as an + advertisement. I do not seem to care for poetry any more. I do not care + for politics—even agriculture does not excite me. But to me now + there is a charm about a railway collision that is unspeakable. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing more beneficent than accident insurance. I have seen an + entire family lifted out of poverty and into affluence by the simple boon + of a broken leg. I have had people come to me on crutches, with tears in + their eyes, to bless this beneficent institution. In all my experience of + life, I have seen nothing so seraphic as the look that comes into a + freshly mutilated man’s face when he feels in his vest pocket with + his remaining hand and finds his accident ticket all right. And I have + seen nothing so sad as the look that came into another splintered customer’s + face when he found he couldn’t collect on a wooden leg. + </p> + <p> + I will remark here, by way of advertisement, that that noble charity which + we have named the HARTFORD ACCIDENT INSURANCE COMPANY—[The speaker + is a director of the company named.]—is an institution which is + peculiarly to be depended upon. A man is bound to prosper who gives it his + custom. + </p> + <p> + No man can take out a policy in it and not get crippled before the year is + out. Now there was one indigent man who had been disappointed so often + with other companies that he had grown disheartened, his appetite left + him, he ceased to smile—life was but a weariness. Three weeks ago I + got him to insure with us, and now he is the brightest, happiest spirit in + this land—has a good steady income and a stylish suit of new + bandages every day, and travels around on a shutter. + </p> + <p> + I will say, in conclusion, that my share of the welcome to our guest is + none the less hearty because I talk so much nonsense, and I know that I + can say the same for the rest of the speakers. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="chinaman" id="chinaman"></a>JOHN CHINAMAN IN NEW YORK + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p231.jpg (145K)" src="images/p231.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + As I passed along by one of those monster American tea stores in New York, + I found a Chinaman sitting before it acting in the capacity of a sign. + Everybody that passed by gave him a steady stare as long as their heads + would twist over their shoulders without dislocating their necks, and a + group had stopped to stare deliberately. + </p> + <p> + Is it not a shame that we, who prate so much about civilization and + humanity, are content to degrade a fellow-being to such an office as this? + Is it not time for reflection when we find ourselves willing to see in + such a being matter for frivolous curiosity instead of regret and grave + reflection? Here was a poor creature whom hard fortune had exiled from his + natural home beyond the seas, and whose troubles ought to have touched + these idle strangers that thronged about him; but did it? Apparently not. + Men calling themselves the superior race, the race of culture and of + gentle blood, scanned his quaint Chinese hat, with peaked roof and ball on + top, and his long queue dangling down his back; his short silken blouse, + curiously frogged and figured (and, like the rest of his raiment, rusty, + dilapidated, and awkwardly put on); his blue cotton, tight-legged pants, + tied close around the ankles; and his clumsy blunt-toed shoes with thick + cork soles; and having so scanned him from head to foot, cracked some + unseemly joke about his outlandish attire or his melancholy face, and + passed on. In my heart I pitied the friendless Mongol. I wondered what was + passing behind his sad face, and what distant scene his vacant eye was + dreaming of. Were his thoughts with his heart, ten thousand miles away, + beyond the billowy wastes of the Pacific? among the ricefields and the + plumy palms of China? under the shadows of remembered mountain peaks, or + in groves of bloomy shrubs and strange forest trees unknown to climes like + ours? And now and then, rippling among his visions and his dreams, did he + hear familiar laughter and half-forgotten voices, and did he catch fitful + glimpses of the friendly faces of a bygone time? A cruel fate it is, I + said, that is befallen this bronzed wanderer. In order that the group of + idlers might be touched at least by the words of the poor fellow, since + the appeal of his pauper dress and his dreary exile was lost upon them, I + touched him on the shoulder and said: + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up—don’t be downhearted. It is not America that + treats you in this way, it is merely one citizen, whose greed of gain has + eaten the humanity out of his heart. America has a broader hospitality for + the exiled and oppressed. America and Americans are always ready to help + the unfortunate. Money shall be raised—you shall go back to China—you + shall see your friends again. What wages do they pay you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Divil a cint but four dollars a week and find meself; but it’s + aisy, barrin’ the troublesome furrin clothes that’s so + expinsive.” + </p> + <p> + The exile remains at his post. The New York tea merchants who need + picturesque signs are not likely to run out of Chinamen. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="agricultural" id="agricultural"></a>HOW I EDITED AN AGRICULTURAL + PAPER + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1870.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p233.jpg (115K)" src="images/p233.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I did not take temporary editorship of an agricultural paper without + misgivings. Neither would a landsman take command of a ship without + misgivings. But I was in circumstances that made the salary an object. The + regular editor of the paper was going off for a holiday, and I accepted + the terms he offered, and took his place. + </p> + <p> + The sensation of being at work again was luxurious, and I wrought all the + week with unflagging pleasure. We went to press, and I waited a day with + some solicitude to see whether my effort was going to attract any notice. + As I left the office, toward sundown, a group of men and boys at the foot + of the stairs dispersed with one impulse, and gave me passageway, and I + heard one or two of them say: “That’s him!” I was + naturally pleased by this incident. The next morning I found a similar + group at the foot of the stairs, and scattering couples and individuals + standing here and there in the street and over the way, watching me with + interest. The group separated and fell back as I approached, and I heard a + man say, “Look at his eye!” I pretended not to observe the + notice I was attracting, but secretly I was pleased with it, and was + purposing to write an account of it to my aunt. I went up the short flight + of stairs, and heard cheery voices and a ringing laugh as I drew near the + door, which I opened, and caught a glimpse of two young rural-looking men, + whose faces blanched and lengthened when they saw me, and then they both + plunged through the window with a great crash. I was surprised. + </p> + <p> + In about half an hour an old gentleman, with a flowing beard and a fine + but rather austere face, entered, and sat down at my invitation. He seemed + to have something on his mind. He took off his hat and set it on the + floor, and got out of it a red silk handkerchief and a copy of our paper. + </p> + <p> + He put the paper on his lap, and while he polished his spectacles with his + handkerchief he said, “Are you the new editor?” + </p> + <p> + I said I was. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever edited an agricultural paper before?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said; “this is my first attempt.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely. Have you had any experience in agriculture + practically?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I believe I have not.” + </p> + <p> + “Some instinct told me so,” said the old gentleman, putting on + his spectacles, and looking over them at me with asperity, while he folded + his paper into a convenient shape. “I wish to read you what must + have made me have that instinct. It was this editorial. Listen, and see if + it was you that wrote it: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + “‘Turnips should never be pulled, it injures them. It is + much better to send a boy up and let him shake the tree.’ + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “Now, what do you think of that?—for I really suppose you + wrote it?” + </p> + <p> + “Think of it? Why, I think it is good. I think it is sense. I have + no doubt that every year millions and millions of bushels of turnips are + spoiled in this township alone by being pulled in a half-ripe condition, + when, if they had sent a boy up to shake the tree—” + </p> + <p> + “Shake your grandmother! Turnips don’t grow on trees!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they don’t, don’t they? Well, who said they did? + The language was intended to be figurative, wholly figurative. Anybody + that knows anything will know that I meant that the boy should shake the + vine.” + </p> + <p> + Then this old person got up and tore his paper all into small shreds, and + stamped on them, and broke several things with his cane, and said I did + not know as much as a cow; and then went out and banged the door after + him, and, in short, acted in such a way that I fancied he was displeased + about something. But not knowing what the trouble was, I could not be any + help to him. + </p> + <p> + Pretty soon after this a long, cadaverous creature, with lanky locks + hanging down to his shoulders, and a week’s stubble bristling from + the hills and valleys of his face, darted within the door, and halted, + motionless, with finger on lip, and head and body bent in listening + attitude. No sound was heard. + </p> + <p> + Still he listened. No sound. Then he turned the key in the door, and came + elaborately tiptoeing toward me till he was within long reaching distance + of me, when he stopped and, after scanning my face with intense interest + for a while, drew a folded copy of our paper from his bosom, and said: + </p> + <p> + “There, you wrote that. Read it to me—quick! Relieve me. I + suffer.” + </p> + <p> + I read as follows; and as the sentences fell from my lips I could see the + relief come, I could see the drawn muscles relax, and the anxiety go out + of the face, and rest and peace steal over the features like the merciful + moonlight over a desolate landscape: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + The guano is a fine bird, but great care is necessary in rearing it. It + should not be imported earlier than June or later than September. In the + winter it should be kept in a warm place, where it can hatch out its + young. + </p> + <p> + It is evident that we are to have a backward season for grain. Therefore + it will be well for the farmer to begin setting out his corn-stalks and + planting his buckwheat cakes in July instead of August. Concerning the + pumpkin. This berry is a favorite with the natives of the interior of + New England, who prefer it to the gooseberry for the making of + fruit-cake, and who likewise give it the preference over the raspberry + for feeding cows, as being more filling and fully as satisfying. The + pumpkin is the only esculent of the orange family that will thrive in + the North, except the gourd and one or two varieties of the squash. But + the custom of planting it in the front yard with the shrubbery is fast + going out of vogue, for it is now generally conceded that, the pumpkin + as a shade tree is a failure. + </p> + <p> + Now, as the warm weather approaches, and the ganders begin to spawn— + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + The excited listener sprang toward me to shake hands, and said: + </p> + <p> + “There, there—that will do. I know I am all right now, because + you have read it just as I did, word, for word. But, stranger, when I + first read it this morning, I said to myself, I never, never believed it + before, notwithstanding my friends kept me under watch so strict, but now + I believe I am crazy; and with that I fetched a howl that you might have + heard two miles, and started out to kill somebody—because, you know, + I knew it would come to that sooner or later, and so I might as well + begin. I read one of them paragraphs over again, so as to be certain, and + then I burned my house down and started. I have crippled several people, + and have got one fellow up a tree, where I can get him if I want him. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p236.jpg (73K)" src="images/p236.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + But I thought I would call in here as I passed along and make the thing + perfectly certain; and now it is certain, and I tell you it is lucky for + the chap that is in the tree. I should have killed him sure, as I went + back. Good-by, sir, good-by; you have taken a great load off my mind. My + reason has stood the strain of one of your agricultural articles, and I + know that nothing can ever unseat it now. Good-by, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I felt a little uncomfortable about the cripplings and arsons this person + had been entertaining himself with, for I could not help feeling remotely + accessory to them. But these thoughts were quickly banished, for the + regular editor walked in! [I thought to myself, Now if you had gone to + Egypt as I recommended you to, I might have had a chance to get my hand + in; but you wouldn’t do it, and here you are. I sort of expected + you.] + </p> + <p> + The editor was looking sad and perplexed and dejected. + </p> + <p> + He surveyed the wreck which that old rioter and those two young farmers + had made, and then said “This is a sad business—a very sad + business. There is the mucilage-bottle broken, and six panes of glass, and + a spittoon, and two candlesticks. But that is not the worst. The + reputation of the paper is injured—and permanently, I fear. True, + there never was such a call for the paper before, and it never sold such a + large edition or soared to such celebrity;—but does one want to be + famous for lunacy, and prosper upon the infirmities of his mind? My + friend, as I am an honest man, the street out here is full of people, and + others are roosting on the fences, waiting to get a glimpse of you, + because they think you are crazy. And well they might after reading your + editorials. They are a disgrace to journalism. Why, what put it into your + head that you could edit a paper of this nature? You do not seem to know + the first rudiments of agriculture. You speak of a furrow and a harrow as + being the same thing; you talk of the moulting season for cows; and you + recommend the domestication of the pole-cat on account of its playfulness + and its excellence as a ratter! Your remark that clams will lie quiet if + music be played to them was superfluous—entirely superfluous. + Nothing disturbs clams. Clams always lie quiet. Clams care nothing + whatever about music. Ah, heavens and earth, friend! if you had made the + acquiring of ignorance the study of your life, you could not have + graduated with higher honor than you could to-day. I never saw anything + like it. Your observation that the horse-chestnut as an article of + commerce is steadily gaining in favor is simply calculated to destroy this + journal. I want you to throw up your situation and go. I want no more + holiday—I could not enjoy it if I had it. Certainly not with you in + my chair. I would always stand in dread of what you might be going to + recommend next. It makes me lose all patience every time I think of your + discussing oyster-beds under the head of ‘Landscape Gardening.’ + I want you to go. Nothing on earth could persuade me to take another + holiday. Oh! why didn’t you tell me you didn’t know anything + about agriculture?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell you, you corn-stalk, you cabbage, you son of a cauliflower? It’s + the first time I ever heard such an unfeeling remark. I tell you I have + been in the editorial business going on fourteen years, and it is the + first time I ever heard of a man’s having to know anything in order + to edit a newspaper. You turnip! Who write the dramatic critiques for the + second-rate papers? Why, a parcel of promoted shoemakers and apprentice + apothecaries, who know just as much about good acting as I do about good + farming and no more. Who review the books? People who never wrote one. Who + do up the heavy leaders on finance? Parties who have had the largest + opportunities for knowing nothing about it. Who criticize the Indian + campaigns? Gentlemen who do not know a war-whoop from a wigwam, and who + never have had to run a foot-race with a tomahawk, or pluck arrows out of + the several members of their families to build the evening camp-fire with. + Who write the temperance appeals, and clamor about the flowing bowl? Folks + who will never draw another sober breath till they do it in the grave. Who + edit the agricultural papers, you—yam? Men, as a general thing, who + fail in the poetry line, yellow-colored novel line, sensation, drama line, + city-editor line, and finally fall back on agriculture as a temporary + reprieve from the poorhouse. You try to tell me anything about the + newspaper business! Sir, I have been through it from Alpha to Omaha, and I + tell you that the less a man knows the bigger the noise he makes and the + higher the salary he commands. Heaven knows if I had but been ignorant + instead of cultivated, and impudent instead of diffident, I could have + made a name for myself in this cold, selfish world. I take my leave, sir. + Since I have been treated as you have treated me, I am perfectly willing + to go. But I have done my duty. I have fulfilled my contract as far as I + was permitted to do it. I said I could make your paper of interest to all + classes—and I have. I said I could run your circulation up to twenty + thousand copies, and if I had had two more weeks I’d have done it. + And I’d have given you the best class of readers that ever an + agricultural paper had—not a farmer in it, nor a solitary individual + who could tell a watermelon-tree from a peach-vine to save his life. You + are the loser by this rupture, not me, Pie-plant. Adios.” + </p> + <p> + I then left. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="petrified" id="petrified"></a>THE PETRIFIED MAN + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p239.jpg (125K)" src="images/p239.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Now, to show how really hard it is to foist a moral or a truth upon an + unsuspecting public through a burlesque without entirely and absurdly + missing one’s mark, I will here set down two experiences of my own + in this thing. In the fall of 1862, in Nevada and California, the people + got to running wild about extraordinary petrifactions and other natural + marvels. One could scarcely pick up a paper without finding in it one or + two glorified discoveries of this kind. The mania was becoming a little + ridiculous. I was a brand-new local editor in Virginia City, and I felt + called upon to destroy this growing evil; we all have our benignant, + fatherly moods at one time or another, I suppose. I chose to kill the + petrifaction mania with a delicate, a very delicate satire. But maybe it + was altogether too delicate, for nobody ever perceived the satire part of + it at all. I put my scheme in the shape of the discovery of a remarkably + petrified man. + </p> + <p> + I had had a temporary falling out with Mr.——, the new coroner + and justice of the peace of Humboldt, and thought I might as well touch + him up a little at the same time and make him ridiculous, and thus combine + pleasure with business. So I told, in patient, belief-compelling detail, + all about the finding of a petrified-man at Gravelly Ford (exactly a + hundred and twenty miles, over a breakneck mountain trail from where + —— lived); how all the savants of the immediate neighborhood + had been to examine it (it was notorious that there was not a living + creature within fifty miles of there, except a few starving Indians, some + crippled grasshoppers, and four or five buzzards out of meat and too + feeble to get away); how those savants all pronounced the petrified man to + have been in a state of complete petrifaction for over ten generations; + and then, with a seriousness that I ought to have been ashamed to assume, + I stated that as soon as Mr.——heard the news he summoned a + jury, mounted his mule, and posted off, with noble reverence for official + duty, on that awful five days’ journey, through alkali, sage brush, + peril of body, and imminent starvation, to hold an inquest on this man + that had been dead and turned to everlasting stone for more than three + hundred years! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p240.jpg (28K)" src="images/p240.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + And then, my hand being “in,” so to speak, I went on, with the + same unflinching gravity, to state that the jury returned a verdict that + deceased came to his death from protracted exposure. This only moved me to + higher flights of imagination, and I said that the jury, with that charity + so characteristic of pioneers, then dug a grave, and were about to give + the petrified man Christian burial, when they found that for ages a + limestone sediment had been trickling down the face of the stone against + which he was sitting, and this stuff had run under him and cemented him + fast to the “bed-rock”; that the jury (they were all + silver-miners) canvassed the difficulty a moment, and then got out their + powder and fuse, and proceeded to drill a hole under him, in order to + blast him from his position, when Mr.——, “with that + delicacy so characteristic of him, forbade them, observing that it would + be little less than sacrilege to do such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + From beginning to end the “Petrified Man” squib was a string + of roaring absurdities, albeit they were told with an unfair pretense of + truth that even imposed upon me to some extent, and I was in some danger + of believing in my own fraud. But I really had no desire to deceive + anybody, and no expectation of doing it. I depended on the way the + petrified man was sitting to explain to the public that he was a swindle. + Yet I purposely mixed that up with other things, hoping to make it obscure—and + I did. I would describe the position of one foot, and then say his right + thumb was against the side of his nose; then talk about his other foot, + and presently come back and say the fingers of his right hand were spread + apart; then talk about the back of his head a little, and return and say + the left thumb was hooked into the right little finger; then ramble off + about something else, and by and by drift back again and remark that the + fingers of the left hand were spread like those of the right. But I was + too ingenious. I mixed it up rather too much; and so all that description + of the attitude, as a key to the humbuggery of the article, was entirely + lost, for nobody but me ever discovered and comprehended the peculiar and + suggestive position of the petrified man’s hands. + </p> + <p> + As a satire on the petrifaction mania, or anything else, my Petrified Man + was a disheartening failure; for everybody received him in innocent good + faith, and I was stunned to see the creature I had begotten to pull down + the wonder-business with, and bring derision upon it, calmly exalted to + the grand chief place in the list of the genuine marvels our Nevada had + produced. I was so disappointed at the curious miscarriage of my scheme, + that at first I was angry, and did not like to think about it; but by and + by, when the exchanges began to come in with the Petrified Man copied and + guilelessly glorified, I began to feel a soothing secret satisfaction; and + as my gentleman’s field of travels broadened, and by the exchanges I + saw that he steadily and implacably penetrated territory after territory, + state after state, and land after land, till he swept the great globe and + culminated in sublime and unimpeached legitimacy in the august London + Lancet, my cup was full, and I said I was glad I had done it. I think that + for about eleven months, as nearly as I can remember, Mr.——’s + daily mail-bag continued to be swollen by the addition of half a bushel of + newspapers hailing from many climes with the Petrified Man in them, marked + around with a prominent belt of ink. I sent them to him. I did it for + spite, not for fun. + </p> + <p> + He used to shovel them into his back yard and curse. And every day during + all those months the miners, his constituents (for miners never quit + joking a person when they get started), would call on him and ask if he + could tell them where they could get hold of a paper with the Petrified + Man in it. He could have accommodated a continent with them. I hated——-in + those days, and these things pacified me and pleased me. I could not have + gotten more real comfort out of him without killing him. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p242.jpg (30K)" src="images/p242.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="massacre" id="massacre"></a>MY BLOODY MASSACRE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p243.jpg (123K)" src="images/p243.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The other burlesque I have referred to was my fine satire upon the + financial expedients of “cooking dividends,” a thing which + became shamefully frequent on the Pacific coast for a while. Once more, in + my self-complacent simplicity I felt that the time had arrived for me to + rise up and be a reformer. I put this reformatory satire in the shape of a + fearful “Massacre at Empire City.” The San Francisco papers + were making a great outcry about the iniquity of the Daney Silver-Mining + Company, whose directors had declared a “cooked” or false + dividend, for the purpose of increasing the value of their stock, so that + they could sell out at a comfortable figure, and then scramble from under + the tumbling concern. And while abusing the Daney, those papers did not + forget to urge the public to get rid of all their silver stocks and invest + in sound and safe San Francisco stocks, such as the Spring Valley Water + Company, etc. But right at this unfortunate juncture, behold the Spring + Valley cooked a dividend too! And so, under the insidious mask of an + invented “bloody massacre,” I stole upon the public unawares + with my scathing satire upon the dividend-cooking system. In about half a + column of imaginary human carnage I told how a citizen had murdered his + wife and nine children, and then committed suicide. And I said slyly, at + the bottom, that the sudden madness of which this melancholy massacre was + the result had been brought about by his having allowed himself to be + persuaded by the California papers to sell his sound and lucrative Nevada + silver stocks, and buy into Spring Valley just in time to get cooked along + with that company’s fancy dividend, and sink every cent he had in + the world. + </p> + <p> + Ah, it was a deep, deep satire, and most ingeniously contrived. But I made + the horrible details so carefully and conscientiously interesting that the + public devoured them greedily, and wholly overlooked the following + distinctly stated facts, to wit: The murderer was perfectly well known to + every creature in the land as a bachelor, and consequently he could not + murder his wife and nine children; he murdered them “in his splendid + dressed-stone mansion just in the edge of the great pine forest between + Empire City and Dutch Nick’s,” when even the very pickled + oysters that came on our tables knew that there was not a “dressed-stone + mansion” in all Nevada Territory; also that, so far from there being + a “great pine forest between Empire City and Dutch Nick’s,” + there wasn’t a solitary tree within fifteen miles of either place; + and, finally, it was patent and notorious that Empire City and Dutch Nick’s + were one and the same place, and contained only six houses anyhow, and + consequently there could be no forest between them; and on top of all + these absurdities I stated that this diabolical murderer, after inflicting + a wound upon himself that the reader ought to have seen would kill an + elephant in the twinkling of an eye, jumped on his horse and rode four + miles, waving his wife’s reeking scalp in the air, and thus + performing entered Carson City with tremendous éclat, and dropped + dead in front of the chief saloon, the envy and admiration of all + beholders. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p245.jpg (27K)" src="images/p245.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Well, in all my life I never saw anything like the sensation that little + satire created. It was the talk of the town, it was the talk of the + territory. Most of the citizens dropped gently into it at breakfast, and + they never finished their meal. There was something about those minutely + faithful details that was a sufficing substitute for food. Few people that + were able to read took food that morning. Dan and I (Dan was my + reportorial associate) took our seats on either side of our customary + table in the “Eagle Restaurant,” and, as I unfolded the shred + they used to call a napkin in that establishment, I saw at the next table + two stalwart innocents with that sort of vegetable dandruff sprinkled + about their clothing which was the sign and evidence that they were in + from the Truckee with a load of hay. The one facing me had the morning + paper folded to a long, narrow strip, and I knew, without any telling, + that that strip represented the column that contained my pleasant + financial satire. From the way he was excitedly mumbling, I saw that the + heedless son of a hay-mow was skipping with all his might, in order to get + to the bloody details as quickly as possible; and so he was missing the + guide-boards I had set up to warn him that the whole thing was a fraud. + Presently his eyes spread wide open, just as his jaws swung asunder to + take in a potato approaching it on a fork; the potato halted, the face lit + up redly, and the whole man was on fire with excitement. Then he broke + into a disjointed checking off of the particulars—his potato cooling + in mid-air meantime, and his mouth making a reach for it occasionally, but + always bringing up suddenly against a new and still more direful + performance of my hero. At last he looked his stunned and rigid comrade + impressively in the face, and said, with an expression of concentrated + awe: + </p> + <p> + “Jim, he b’iled his baby, and he took the old ’oman’s + skelp. Cuss’d if I want any breakfast!” + </p> + <p> + And he laid his lingering potato reverently down, and he and his friend + departed from the restaurant empty but satisfied. + </p> + <p> + He never got down to where the satire part of it began. Nobody ever did. + They found the thrilling particulars sufficient. To drop in with a poor + little moral at the fag-end of such a gorgeous massacre was like following + the expiring sun with a candle and hope to attract the world’s + attention to it. + </p> + <p> + The idea that anybody could ever take my massacre for a genuine occurrence + never once suggested itself to me, hedged about as it was by all those + telltale absurdities and impossibilities concerning the “great pine + forest,” the “dressed-stone mansion,” etc. But I found + out then, and never have forgotten since, that we never read the dull + explanatory surroundings of marvelously exciting things when we have no + occasion to suppose that some irresponsible scribbler is trying to defraud + us; we skip all that, and hasten to revel in the blood-curdling + particulars and be happy. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="undertaker" id="undertaker"></a>THE UNDERTAKER’S CHAT + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + “Now that corpse,” said the undertaker, patting the folded + hands of deceased approvingly, “was a brick—every way you took + him he was a brick. He was so real accommodating, and so modest-like and + simple in his last moments. Friends wanted metallic burial-case—nothing + else would do. I couldn’t get it. There warn’t going to be + time—anybody could see that. + </p> + <p> + “Corpse said never mind, shake him up some kind of a box he could + stretch out in comfortable, he warn’t particular ’bout the + general style of it. Said he went more on room than style, anyway in a + last final container. + </p> + <p> + “Friends wanted a silver door-plate on the coffin, signifying who he + was and wher’ he was from. Now you know a fellow couldn’t + roust out such a gaily thing as that in a little country-town like this. + What did corpse say? + </p> + <p> + “Corpse said, whitewash his old canoe and dob his address and + general destination onto it with a blacking-brush and a stencil-plate, + ’long with a verse from some likely hymn or other, and p’int + him for the tomb, and mark him C. O. D., and just let him flicker. He warn’t + distressed any more than you be—on the contrary, just as ca’m + and collected as a hearse-horse; said he judged that wher’ he was + going to a body would find it considerable better to attract attention by + a picturesque moral character than a natty burial-case with a swell + door-plate on it. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid man, he was. I’d druther do for a corpse like that + ’n any I’ve tackled in seven year. There’s some + satisfaction in buryin’ a man like that. You feel that what you’re + doing is appreciated. Lord bless you, so’s he got planted before he + sp’iled, he was perfectly satisfied; said his relations meant well, + perfectly well, but all them preparations was bound to delay the thing + more or less, and he didn’t wish to be kept layin’ around. You + never see such a clear head as what he had—and so ca’m and so + cool. Jist a hunk of brains—that is what he was. Perfectly awful. It + was a ripping distance from one end of that man’s head to t’other. + Often and over again he’s had brain-fever a-raging in one place, and + the rest of the pile didn’t know anything about it—didn’t + affect it any more than an Injun Insurrection in Arizona affects the + Atlantic States. Well, the relations they wanted a big funeral, but corpse + said he was down on flummery—didn’t want any procession—fill + the hearse full of mourners, and get out a stern line and tow him behind. + He was the most down on style of any remains I ever struck. A beautiful, + simpleminded creature—it was what he was, you can depend on that. He + was just set on having things the way he wanted them, and he took a solid + comfort in laying his little plans. He had me measure him and take a whole + raft of directions; then he had the minister stand up behind a long box + with a table-cloth over it, to represent the coffin, and read his funeral + sermon, saying ‘Angcore, angcore!’ at the good places, and + making him scratch out every bit of brag about him, and all the hifalutin; + and then he made them trot out the choir, so’s he could help them + pick out the tunes for the occasion, and he got them to sing ‘Pop + Goes the Weasel,’ because he’d always liked that tune when he + was downhearted, and solemn music made him sad; and when they sung that + with tears in their eyes (because they all loved him), and his relations + grieving around, he just laid there as happy as a bug, and trying to beat + time and showing all over how much he enjoyed it; and presently he got + worked up and excited, and tried to join in, for, mind you, he was pretty + proud of his abilities in the singing line; but the first time he opened + his mouth and was just going to spread himself his breath took a walk. + </p> + <p> + “I never see a man snuffed out so sudden. Ah, it was a great loss—a + powerful loss to this poor little one-horse town. Well, well, well, I hain’t + got time to be palavering along here—got to nail on the lid and + mosey along with him; and if you’ll just give me a lift we’ll + skeet him into the hearse and meander along. Relations bound to have it so—don’t + pay no attention to dying injunctions, minute a corpse’s gone; but, + if I had my way, if I didn’t respect his last wishes and tow him + behind the hearse I’ll be cuss’d. I consider that whatever a + corpse wants done for his comfort is little enough matter, and a man hain’t + got no right to deceive him or take advantage of him; and whatever a + corpse trusts me to do I’m a-going to do, you know, even if it’s + to stuff him and paint him yaller and keep him for a keepsake—you + hear me!” + </p> + <p> + He cracked his whip and went lumbering away with his ancient ruin of a + hearse, and I continued my walk with a valuable lesson learned—that + a healthy and wholesome cheerfulness is not necessarily impossible to any + occupation. The lesson is likely to be lasting, for it will take many + months to obliterate the memory of the remarks and circumstances that + impressed it. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="chambermaids" id="chambermaids"></a>CONCERNING CHAMBERMAIDS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p250.jpg (92K)" src="images/p250.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Against all chambermaids, of whatsoever age or nationality, I launch the + curse of bachelordom! Because: + </p> + <p> + They always put the pillows at the opposite end of the bed from the + gas-burner, so that while you read and smoke before sleeping (as is the + ancient and honored custom of bachelors), you have to hold your book + aloft, in an uncomfortable position, to keep the light from dazzling your + eyes. + </p> + <p> + When they find the pillows removed to the other end of the bed in the + morning, they receive not the suggestion in a friendly spirit; but, + glorying in their absolute sovereignty, and unpitying your helplessness, + they make the bed just as it was originally, and gloat in secret over the + pang their tyranny will cause you. + </p> + <p> + Always after that, when they find you have transposed the pillows, they + undo your work, and thus defy and seek to embitter the life that God has + given you. + </p> + <p> + If they cannot get the light in an inconvenient position any other way, + they move the bed. + </p> + <p> + If you pull your trunk out six inches from the wall, so that the lid will + stay up when you open it, they always shove that trunk back again. They do + it on purpose. + </p> + <p> + If you want the spittoon in a certain spot, where it will be handy, they + don’t, and so they move it. + </p> + <p> + They always put your other boots into inaccessible places. They chiefly + enjoy depositing them as far under the bed as the wall will permit. It is + because this compels you to get down in an undignified attitude and make + wild sweeps for them in the dark with the bootjack, and swear. + </p> + <p> + They always put the matchbox in some other place. They hunt up a new place + for it every day, and put up a bottle, or other perishable glass thing, + where the box stood before. This is to cause you to break that glass + thing, groping in the dark, and get yourself into trouble. + </p> + <p> + They are for ever and ever moving the furniture. When you come in in the + night you can calculate on finding the bureau where the wardrobe was in + the morning. And when you go out in the morning, if you leave the + slop-bucket by the door and rocking-chair by the window, when you come in + at midnight or thereabout, you will fall over that rocking-chair, and you + will proceed toward the window and sit down in that slop-tub. This will + disgust you. They like that. + </p> + <p> + No matter where you put anything, they are not going to let it stay there. + They will take it and move it the first chance they get. It is their + nature. And, besides, it gives them pleasure to be mean and contrary this + way. They would die if they couldn’t be villains. + </p> + <p> + They always save up all the old scraps of printed rubbish you throw on the + floor, and stack them up carefully on the table, and start the fire with + your valuable manuscripts. If there is any one particular old scrap that + you are more down on than any other, and which you are gradually wearing + your life out trying to get rid of, you may take all the pains you + possibly can in that direction, but it won’t be of any use, because + they will always fetch that old scrap back and put it in the same old + place again every time. It does them good. + </p> + <p> + And they use up more hair-oil than any six men. If charged with purloining + the same, they lie about it. What do they care about a hereafter? + Absolutely nothing. + </p> + <p> + If you leave the key in the door for convenience’ sake, they will + carry it down to the office and give it to the clerk. They do this under + the vile pretense of trying to protect your property from thieves; but + actually they do it because they want to make you tramp back down-stairs + after it when you come home tired, or put you to the trouble of sending a + waiter for it, which waiter will expect you to pay him something. In which + case I suppose the degraded creatures divide. + </p> + <p> + They keep always trying to make your bed before you get up, thus + destroying your rest and inflicting agony upon you; but after you get up, + they don’t come any more till next day. + </p> + <p> + They do all the mean things they can think of, and they do them just out + of pure cussedness, and nothing else. + </p> + <p> + Chambermaids are dead to every human instinct. + </p> + <p> + If I can get a bill through the legislature abolishing chambermaids, I + mean to do it. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="aurelia" id="aurelia"></a>AURELIA’S UNFORTUNATE YOUNG MAN + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1865.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p253.jpg (89K)" src="images/p253.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The facts in the following case came to me by letter from a young lady who + lives in the beautiful city of San José; she is perfectly unknown + to me, and simply signs herself “Aurelia Maria,” which may + possibly be a fictitious name. But no matter, the poor girl is almost + heartbroken by the misfortunes she has undergone, and so confused by the + conflicting counsels of misguided friends and insidious enemies that she + does not know what course to pursue in order to extricate herself from the + web of difficulties in which she seems almost hopelessly involved. In this + dilemma she turns to me for help, and supplicates for my guidance and + instruction with a moving eloquence that would touch the heart of a + statue. Hear her sad story: + </p> + <p> + She says that when she was sixteen years old she met and loved, with all + the devotion of a passionate nature, a young man from New Jersey, named + Williamson Breckinridge Caruthers, who was some six years her senior. They + were engaged, with the free consent of their friends and relatives, and + for a time it seemed as if their career was destined to be characterized + by an immunity from sorrow beyond the usual lot of humanity. But at last + the tide of fortune turned; young Caruthers became infected with smallpox + of the most virulent type, and when he recovered from his illness his face + was pitted like a waffle-mold, and his comeliness gone forever. Aurelia + thought to break off the engagement at first, but pity for her unfortunate + lover caused her to postpone the marriage-day for a season, and give him + another trial. + </p> + <p> + The very day before the wedding was to have taken place, Breckinridge, + while absorbed in watching the flight of a balloon, walked into a well and + fractured one of his legs, and it had to be taken off above the knee. + Again Aurelia was moved to break the engagement, but again love triumphed, + and she set the day forward and gave him another chance to reform. + </p> + <p> + And again misfortune overtook the unhappy youth. He lost one arm by the + premature discharge of a Fourth of July cannon, and within three months he + got the other pulled out by a carding-machine. Aurelia’s heart was + almost crushed by these latter calamities. She could not but be deeply + grieved to see her lover passing from her by piecemeal, feeling, as she + did, that he could not last forever under this disastrous process of + reduction, yet knowing of no way to stop its dreadful career, and in her + tearful despair she almost regretted, like brokers who hold on and lose, + that she had not taken him at first, before he had suffered such an + alarming depreciation. Still, her brave soul bore her up, and she resolved + to bear with her friend’s unnatural disposition yet a little longer. + </p> + <p> + Again the wedding-day approached, and again disappointment overshadowed + it; Caruthers fell ill with the erysipelas, and lost the use of one of his + eyes entirely. The friends and relatives of the bride, considering that + she had already put up with more than could reasonably be expected of her, + now came forward and insisted that the match should be broken off; but + after wavering awhile, Aurelia, with a generous spirit which did her + credit, said she had reflected calmly upon the matter, and could not + discover that Breckinridge was to blame. + </p> + <p> + So she extended the time once more, and he broke his other leg. + </p> + <p> + It was a sad day for the poor girl when she saw the surgeons reverently + bearing away the sack whose uses she had learned by previous experience, + and her heart told her the bitter truth that some more of her lover was + gone. She felt that the field of her affections was growing more and more + circumscribed every day, but once more she frowned down her relatives and + renewed her betrothal. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before the time set for the nuptials another disaster occurred. + There was but one man scalped by the Owens River Indians last year. That + man was Williamson Breckinridge Caruthers of New Jersey. He was hurrying + home with happiness in his heart, when he lost his hair forever, and in + that hour of bitterness he almost cursed the mistaken mercy that had + spared his head. + </p> + <p> + At last Aurelia is in serious perplexity as to what she ought to do. She + still loves her Breckinridge, she writes, with truly womanly feeling—she + still loves what is left of him—but her parents are bitterly opposed + to the match, because he has no property and is disabled from working, and + she has not sufficient means to support both comfortably. “Now, what + should she do?” she asked with painful and anxious solicitude. + </p> + <p> + It is a delicate question; it is one which involves the lifelong happiness + of a woman, and that of nearly two-thirds of a man, and I feel that it + would be assuming too great a responsibility to do more than make a mere + suggestion in the case. How would it do to build to him? If Aurelia can + afford the expense, let her furnish her mutilated lover with wooden arms + and wooden legs, and a glass eye and a wig, and give him another show; + give him ninety days, without grace, and if he does not break his neck in + the mean time, marry him and take the chances. It does not seem to me that + there is much risk, anyway, Aurelia, because if he sticks to his singular + propensity for damaging himself every time he sees a good opportunity, his + next experiment is bound to finish him, and then you are safe, married or + single. If married, the wooden legs and such other valuables as he may + possess revert to the widow, and you see you sustain no actual loss save + the cherished fragment of a noble but most unfortunate husband, who + honestly strove to do right, but whose extraordinary instincts were + against him. Try it, Maria. I have thought the matter over carefully and + well, and it is the only chance I see for you. It would have been a happy + conceit on the part of Caruthers if he had started with his neck and + broken that first; but since he has seen fit to choose a different policy + and string himself out as long as possible, I do not think we ought to + upbraid him for it if he has enjoyed it. We must do the best we can under + the circumstances, and try not to feel exasperated at him. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="jenkins" id="jenkins"></a>"AFTER” JENKINS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + A grand affair of a ball—the Pioneers’—came off at the + Occidental some time ago. The following notes of the costumes worn by the + belles of the occasion may not be uninteresting to the general reader, and + Jenkins may get an idea therefrom: + </p> + <p> + Mrs. W. M. was attired in an elegant ‘pâté de foie + gras,’ made expressly for her, and was greatly admired. Miss S. had + her hair done up. She was the center of attraction for the gentlemen and + the envy of all the ladies. Mrs. G. W. was tastefully dressed in a ‘tout + ensemble,’ and was greeted with deafening applause wherever she + went. Mrs. C. N. was superbly arrayed in white kid gloves. Her modest and + engaging manner accorded well with the unpretending simplicity of her + costume and caused her to be regarded with absorbing interest by every + one. + </p> + <p> + The charming Miss M. M. B. appeared in a thrilling waterfall, whose + exceeding grace and volume compelled the homage of pioneers and emigrants + alike. How beautiful she was! + </p> + <p> + The queenly Mrs. L. R. was attractively attired in her new and beautiful + false teeth, and the ‘bon jour’ effect they naturally produced + was heightened by her enchanting and well-sustained smile. + </p> + <p> + Miss R. P., with that repugnance to ostentation in dress which is so + peculiar to her, was attired in a simple white lace collar, fastened with + a neat pearl-button solitaire. The fine contrast between the sparkling + vivacity of her natural optic, and the steadfast attentiveness of her + placid glass eye, was the subject of general and enthusiastic remark. + </p> + <p> + Miss C. L. B. had her fine nose elegantly enameled, and the easy grace + with which she blew it from time to time marked her as a cultivated and + accomplished woman of the world; its exquisitely modulated tone excited + the admiration of all who had the happiness to hear it. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="barbers" id="barbers"></a>ABOUT BARBERS + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p257.jpg (140K)" src="images/p257.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + All things change except barbers, the ways of barbers, and the + surroundings of barbers. These never change. What one experiences in a + barber’s shop the first time he enters one is what he always + experiences in barbers’ shops afterward till the end of his days. I + got shaved this morning as usual. A man approached the door from Jones + Street as I approached it from Main—a thing that always happens. I + hurried up, but it was of no use; he entered the door one little step + ahead of me, and I followed in on his heels and saw him take the only + vacant chair, the one presided over by the best barber. It always happens + so. I sat down, hoping that I might fall heir to the chair belonging to + the better of the remaining two barbers, for he had already begun combing + his man’s hair, while his comrade was not yet quite done rubbing up + and oiling his customer’s locks. I watched the probabilities with + strong interest. When I saw that No. 2 was gaining on No. 1 my interest + grew to solicitude. When No. 1 stopped a moment to make change on a bath + ticket for a new-comer, and lost ground in the race, my solicitude rose to + anxiety. When No. 1 caught up again, and both he and his comrade were + pulling the towels away and brushing the powder from their customers’ + cheeks, and it was about an even thing which one would say “Next!” + first, my very breath stood still with the suspense. But when at the + culminating moment No. 1 stopped to pass a comb a couple of times through + his customer’s eyebrows, I saw that he had lost the race by a single + instant, and I rose indignant and quitted the shop, to keep from falling + into the hands of No. 2; for I have none of that enviable firmness that + enables a man to look calmly into the eyes of a waiting barber and tell + him he will wait for his fellow-barber’s chair. + </p> + <p> + I stayed out fifteen minutes, and then went back, hoping for better luck. + Of course all the chairs were occupied now, and four men sat waiting, + silent, unsociable, distraught, and looking bored, as men always do who + are waiting their turn in a barber’s shop. I sat down in one of the + iron-armed compartments of an old sofa, and put in the time for a while + reading the framed advertisements of all sorts of quack nostrums for + dyeing and coloring the hair. Then I read the greasy names on the private + bayrum bottles; read the names and noted the numbers on the private + shaving-cups in the pigeonholes; studied the stained and damaged cheap + prints on the walls, of battles, early Presidents, and voluptuous + recumbent sultanas, and the tiresome and everlasting young girl putting + her grandfather’s spectacles on; execrated in my heart the cheerful + canary and the distracting parrot that few barbers’ shops are + without. Finally, I searched out the least dilapidated of last year’s + illustrated papers that littered the foul center-table, and conned their + unjustifiable misrepresentations of old forgotten events. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p259.jpg (23K)" src="images/p259.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + At last my turn came. A voice said “Next!” and I surrendered + to—No. 2, of course. It always happens so. I said meekly that I was + in a hurry, and it affected him as strongly as if he had never heard it. + He shoved up my head, and put a napkin under it. He plowed his fingers + into my collar and fixed a towel there. He explored my hair with his claws + and suggested that it needed trimming. I said I did not want it trimmed. + He explored again and said it was pretty long for the present style—better + have a little taken off; it needed it behind especially. I said I had had + it cut only a week before. He yearned over it reflectively a moment, and + then asked with a disparaging manner, who cut it? I came back at him + promptly with a “You did!” I had him there. Then he fell to + stirring up his lather and regarding himself in the glass, stopping now + and then to get close and examine his chin critically or inspect a pimple. + Then he lathered one side of my face thoroughly, and was about to lather + the other, when a dog-fight attracted his attention, and he ran to the + window and stayed and saw it out, losing two shillings on the result in + bets with the other barbers, a thing which gave me great satisfaction. He + finished lathering, and then began to rub in the suds with his hand. + </p> + <p> + He now began to sharpen his razor on an old suspender, and was delayed a + good deal on account of a controversy about a cheap masquerade ball he had + figured at the night before, in red cambric and bogus ermine, as some kind + of a king. He was so gratified with being chaffed about some damsel whom + he had smitten with his charms that he used every means to continue the + controversy by pretending to be annoyed at the chaffings of his fellows. + This matter begot more surveyings of himself in the glass, and he put down + his razor and brushed his hair with elaborate care, plastering an inverted + arch of it down on his forehead, accomplishing an accurate “part” + behind, and brushing the two wings forward over his ears with nice + exactness. In the mean time the lather was drying on my face, and + apparently eating into my vitals. + </p> + <p> + Now he began to shave, digging his fingers into my countenance to stretch + the skin and bundling and tumbling my head this way and that as + convenience in shaving demanded. As long as he was on the tough sides of + my face I did not suffer; but when he began to rake, and rip, and tug at + my chin, the tears came. He now made a handle of my nose, to assist him + shaving the corners of my upper lip, and it was by this bit of + circumstantial evidence that I discovered that a part of his duties in the + shop was to clean the kerosene-lamps. I had often wondered in an indolent + way whether the barbers did that, or whether it was the boss. + </p> + <p> + About this time I was amusing myself trying to guess where he would be + most likely to cut me this time, but he got ahead of me, and sliced me on + the end of the chin before I had got my mind made up. He immediately + sharpened his razor—he might have done it before. I do not like a + close shave, and would not let him go over me a second time. I tried to + get him to put up his razor, dreading that he would make for the side of + my chin, my pet tender spot, a place which a razor cannot touch twice + without making trouble; but he said he only wanted to just smooth off one + little roughness, and in the same moment he slipped his razor along the + forbidden ground, and the dreaded pimple-signs of a close shave rose up + smarting and answered to the call. Now he soaked his towel in bay rum, and + slapped it all over my face nastily; slapped it over as if a human being + ever yet washed his face in that way. Then he dried it by slapping with + the dry part of the towel, as if a human being ever dried his face in such + a fashion; but a barber seldom rubs you like a Christian. Next he poked + bay rum into the cut place with his towel, then choked the wound with + powdered starch, then soaked it with bay rum again, and would have gone on + soaking and powdering it forevermore, no doubt, if I had not rebelled and + begged off. He powdered my whole face now, straightened me up, and began + to plow my hair thoughtfully with his hands. Then he suggested a shampoo, + and said my hair needed it badly, very badly. I observed that I shampooed + it myself very thoroughly in the bath yesterday. I “had him” + again. He next recommended some of “Smith’s Hair Glorifier,” + and offered to sell me a bottle. I declined. He praised the new perfume, + “Jones’s Delight of the Toilet,” and proposed to sell me + some of that. I declined again. He tendered me a tooth-wash atrocity of + his own invention, and when I declined offered to trade knives with me. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p260.jpg (37K)" src="images/p260.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + He returned to business after the miscarriage of this last enterprise, + sprinkled me all over, legs and all, greased my hair in defiance of my + protest against it, rubbed and scrubbed a good deal of it out by the + roots, and combed and brushed the rest, parting it behind, and plastering + the eternal inverted arch of hair down on my forehead, and then, while + combing my scant eyebrows and defiling them with pomade, strung out an + account of the achievements of a six-ounce black-and-tan terrier of his + till I heard the whistles blow for noon, and knew I was five minutes too + late for the train. Then he snatched away the towel, brushed it lightly + about my face, passed his comb through my eyebrows once more, and gaily + sang out “Next!” + </p> + <p> + This barber fell down and died of apoplexy two hours later. I am waiting + over a day for my revenge—I am going to attend his funeral. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="ireland" id="ireland"></a>"PARTY CRIES” IN IRELAND + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p262.jpg (132K)" src="images/p262.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Belfast is a peculiarly religious community. This may be said of the whole + of the North of Ireland. About one-half of the people are Protestants and + the other half Catholics. Each party does all it can to make its own + doctrines popular and draw the affections of the irreligious toward them. + One hears constantly of the most touching instances of this zeal. A week + ago a vast concourse of Catholics assembled at Armagh to dedicate a new + Cathedral; and when they started home again the roadways were lined with + groups of meek and lowly Protestants who stoned them till all the region + round about was marked with blood. I thought that only Catholics argued in + that way, but it seems to be a mistake. + </p> + <p> + Every man in the community is a missionary and carries a brick to admonish + the erring with. The law has tried to break this up, but not with perfect + success. It has decreed that irritating “party cries” shall + not be indulged in, and that persons uttering them shall be fined forty + shillings and costs. And so, in the police court reports every day, one + sees these fines recorded. Last week a girl of twelve years old was fined + the usual forty shillings and costs for proclaiming in the public streets + that she was “a Protestant.” The usual cry is, “To hell + with the Pope!” or “To hell with the Protestants!” + according to the utterer’s system of salvation. + </p> + <p> + One of Belfast’s local jokes was very good. It referred to the + uniform and inevitable fine of forty shillings and costs for uttering a + party cry—and it is no economical fine for a poor man, either, by + the way. They say that a policeman found a drunken man lying on the + ground, up a dark alley, entertaining himself with shouting, “To + hell with!” “To hell with!” The officer smelt a fine—informers + get half. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that you say?” + </p> + <p> + “To hell with!” + </p> + <p> + “To hell with who? To hell with what?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, bedad, ye can finish it yourself—it’s too expinsive + for me!” + </p> + <p> + I think the seditious disposition, restrained by the economical instinct, + is finely put in that. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="resignation" id="resignation"></a>THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT + RESIGNATION [Written about 1867] + </h2> + <h3> + WASHINGTON, December, 1867. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + I have resigned. The government appears to go on much the same, but there + is a spoke out of its wheel, nevertheless. I was clerk of the Senate + Committee on Conchology and I have thrown up the position. I could see the + plainest disposition on the part of the other members of the government to + debar me from having any voice in the counsels of the nation, and so I + could no longer hold office and retain my self-respect. If I were to + detail all the outrages that were heaped upon me during the six days that + I was connected with the government in an official capacity, the narrative + would fill a volume. They appointed me clerk of that Committee on + Conchology and then allowed me no amanuensis to play billiards with. I + would have borne that, lonesome as it was, if I had met with that courtesy + from the other members of the Cabinet which was my due. But I did not. + Whenever I observed that the head of a department was pursuing a wrong + course, I laid down everything and went and tried to set him right, as it + was my duty to do; and I never was thanked for it in a single instance. I + went, with the best intentions in the world, to the Secretary of the Navy, + and said: + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I cannot see that Admiral Farragut is doing anything but + skirmishing around there in Europe, having a sort of picnic. Now, that may + be all very well, but it does not exhibit itself to me in that light. If + there is no fighting for him to do, let him come home. There is no use in + a man having a whole fleet for a pleasure excursion. It is too expensive. + Mind, I do not object to pleasure excursions for the naval officers—pleasure + excursions that are in reason—pleasure excursions that are + economical. Now, they might go down the Mississippi on a raft—” + </p> + <p> + You ought to have heard him storm! One would have supposed I had committed + a crime of some kind. But I didn’t mind. I said it was cheap, and + full of republican simplicity, and perfectly safe. I said that, for a + tranquil pleasure excursion, there was nothing equal to a raft. + </p> + <p> + Then the Secretary of the Navy asked me who I was; and when I told him I + was connected with the government, he wanted to know in what capacity. I + said that, without remarking upon the singularity of such a question, + coming, as it did, from a member of that same government, I would inform + him that I was clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology. Then there was + a fine storm! He finished by ordering me to leave the premises, and give + my attention strictly to my own business in future. My first impulse was + to get him removed. However, that would harm others besides himself, and + do me no real good, and so I let him stay. + </p> + <p> + I went next to the Secretary of War, who was not inclined to see me at all + until he learned that I was connected with the government. If I had not + been on important business, I suppose I could not have got in. I asked him + for a light (he was smoking at the time), and then I told him I had no + fault to find with his defending the parole stipulations of General Lee + and his comrades in arms, but that I could not approve of his method of + fighting the Indians on the Plains. I said he fought too scattering. He + ought to get the Indians more together—get them together in some + convenient place, where he could have provisions enough for both parties, + and then have a general massacre. I said there was nothing so convincing + to an Indian as a general massacre. If he could not approve of the + massacre, I said the next surest thing for an Indian was soap and + education. Soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but they + are more deadly in the long run; because a half-massacred Indian may + recover, but if you educate him and wash him, it is bound to finish him + some time or other. It undermines his constitution; it strikes at the + foundation of his being. “Sir,” I said, “the time has + come when blood-curdling cruelty has become necessary. Inflict soap and a + spelling-book on every Indian that ravages the Plains, and let them die!” + </p> + <p> + The Secretary of War asked me if I was a member of the Cabinet, and I said + I was. He inquired what position I held, and I said I was clerk of the + Senate Committee on Conchology. I was then ordered under arrest for + contempt of court, and restrained of my liberty for the best part of the + day. + </p> + <p> + I almost resolved to be silent thenceforward, and let the Government get + along the best way it could. But duty called, and I obeyed. I called on + the Secretary of the Treasury. He said: + </p> + <p> + “What will you have?” + </p> + <p> + The question threw me off my guard. I said, “Rum punch.” + </p> + <p> + He said: “If you have got any business here, sir, state it—and + in as few words as possible.” + </p> + <p> + I then said that I was sorry he had seen fit to change the subject so + abruptly, because such conduct was very offensive to me; but under the + circumstances I would overlook the matter and come to the point. I now + went into an earnest expostulation with him upon the extravagant length of + his report. I said it was expensive, unnecessary, and awkwardly + constructed; there were no descriptive passages in it, no poetry, no + sentiment—no heroes, no plot, no pictures—not even wood-cuts. + Nobody would read it, that was a clear case. I urged him not to ruin his + reputation by getting out a thing like that. If he ever hoped to succeed + in literature he must throw more variety into his writings. He must beware + of dry detail. I said that the main popularity of the almanac was derived + from its poetry and conundrums, and that a few conundrums distributed + around through his Treasury report would help the sale of it more than all + the internal revenue he could put into it. I said these things in the + kindest spirit, and yet the Secretary of the Treasury fell into a violent + passion. He even said I was an ass. He abused me in the most vindictive + manner, and said that if I came there again meddling with his business he + would throw me out of the window. I said I would take my hat and go, if I + could not be treated with the respect due to my office, and I did go. It + was just like a new author. They always think they know more than anybody + else when they are getting out their first book. Nobody can tell them + anything. + </p> + <p> + During the whole time that I was connected with the government it seemed + as if I could not do anything in an official capacity without getting + myself into trouble. And yet I did nothing, attempted nothing, but what I + conceived to be for the good of my country. The sting of my wrongs may + have driven me to unjust and harmful conclusions, but it surely seemed to + me that the Secretary of State, the Secretary of War, the Secretary of the + Treasury, and others of my confrères had conspired from the very + beginning to drive me from the Administration. I never attended but one + Cabinet meeting while I was connected with the government. That was + sufficient for me. The servant at the White House door did not seem + disposed to make way for me until I asked if the other members of the + Cabinet had arrived. He said they had, and I entered. They were all there; + but nobody offered me a seat. They stared at me as if I had been an + intruder. The President said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, who are you?” + </p> + <p> + I handed him my card, and he read: “The HON. MARK TWAIN, Clerk of + the Senate Committee on Conchology.” Then he looked at me from head + to foot, as if he had never heard of me before. The Secretary of the + Treasury said: + </p> + <p> + “This is the meddlesome ass that came to recommend me to put poetry + and conundrums in my report, as if it were an almanac.” + </p> + <p> + The Secretary of War said: “It is the same visionary that came to me + yesterday with a scheme to educate a portion of the Indians to death, and + massacre the balance.” + </p> + <p> + The Secretary of the Navy said: “I recognize this youth as the + person who has been interfering with my business time and again during the + week. He is distressed about Admiral Farragut’s using a whole fleet + for a pleasure excursion, as he terms it. His proposition about some + insane pleasure excursion on a raft is too absurd to repeat.” + </p> + <p> + I said: “Gentlemen, I perceive here a disposition to throw discredit + upon every act of my official career; I perceive, also, a disposition to + debar me from all voice in the counsels of the nation. No notice whatever + was sent to me to-day. It was only by the merest chance that I learned + that there was going to be a Cabinet meeting. But let these things pass. + All I wish to know is, is this a Cabinet meeting or is it not?” + </p> + <p> + The President said it was. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” I said, “let us proceed to business at once, and + not fritter away valuable time in unbecoming fault-findings with each + other’s official conduct.” + </p> + <p> + The Secretary of State now spoke up, in his benignant way, and said, + “Young man, you are laboring under a mistake. The clerks of the + Congressional committees are not members of the Cabinet. Neither are the + doorkeepers of the Capitol, strange as it may seem. Therefore, much as we + could desire your more than human wisdom in our deliberations, we cannot + lawfully avail ourselves of it. The counsels of the nation must proceed + without you; if disaster follows, as follow full well it may, be it balm + to your sorrowing spirit that by deed and voice you did what in you lay to + avert it. You have my blessing. Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + These gentle words soothed my troubled breast, and I went away. But the + servants of a nation can know no peace. I had hardly reached my den in the + Capitol, and disposed my feet on the table like a representative, when one + of the Senators on the Conchological Committee came in in a passion and + said: + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been all day?” + </p> + <p> + I observed that, if that was anybody’s affair but my own, I had been + to a Cabinet meeting. + </p> + <p> + “To a Cabinet meeting? I would like to know what business you had at + a Cabinet meeting?” + </p> + <p> + I said I went there to consult—allowing for the sake of argument + that he was in any wise concerned in the matter. He grew insolent then, + and ended by saying he had wanted me for three days past to copy a report + on bomb-shells, egg-shells, clamshells, and I don’t know what all, + connected with conchology, and nobody had been able to find me. + </p> + <p> + This was too much. This was the feather that broke the clerical camel’s + back. I said, “Sir, do you suppose that I am going to work for six + dollars a day? If that is the idea, let me recommend the Senate Committee + on Conchology to hire somebody else. I am the slave of no faction! Take + back your degrading commission. Give me liberty, or give me death!” + </p> + <p> + From that hour I was no longer connected with the government. Snubbed by + the department, snubbed by the Cabinet, snubbed at last by the chairman of + a committee I was endeavoring to adorn, I yielded to persecution, cast far + from me the perils and seductions of my great office, and forsook my + bleeding country in the hour of her peril. + </p> + <p> + But I had done the state some service, and I sent in my bill: + </p> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + The United States of America in account with + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + the Hon. Clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology, + </td> + <td> + Dr + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To consultation with Secretary of War + </td> + <td> + $50 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To consultation with Secretary of Navy + </td> + <td> + $50 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To consultation with Secretary of the Treasury + </td> + <td> + $50 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Cabinet consultation + </td> + <td> + No charge + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To mileage to and from Jerusalem, via Egypt, + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Algiers, Gibraltar, and Cadiz, + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + 14,000 miles, at 20c. a mile + </td> + <td> + $2,800 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + To salary as Clerk of Senate Committee + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + on Conchology, six days, at $6 per day + </td> + <td> + $36 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + Total + </td> + <td> + $2,986 + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + </tr> + </table> + <blockquote> + <p> + —[Territorial delegates charge mileage both ways, although they + never go back when they get here once. Why my mileage is denied me is + more than I can understand.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Not an item of this bill has been paid, except that trifle of thirty-six + dollars for clerkship salary. The Secretary of the Treasury, pursuing me + to the last, drew his pen through all the other items, and simply marked + in the margin “Not allowed.” So, the dread alternative is + embraced at last. Repudiation has begun! The nation is lost. + </p> + <p> + I am done with official life for the present. Let those clerks who are + willing to be imposed on remain. I know numbers of them in the departments + who are never informed when there is to be a Cabinet meeting, whose advice + is never asked about war, or finance, or commerce, by the heads of the + nation, any more than if they were not connected with the government, and + who actually stay in their offices day after day and work! They know their + importance to the nation, and they unconsciously show it in their bearing, + and the way they order their sustenance at the restaurant—but they + work. I know one who has to paste all sorts of little scraps from the + newspapers into a scrapbook—sometimes as many as eight or ten scraps + a day. He doesn’t do it well, but he does it as well as he can. It + is very fatiguing. It is exhausting to the intellect. Yet he only gets + eighteen hundred dollars a year. With a brain like his, that young man + could amass thousands and thousands of dollars in some other pursuit, if + he chose to do it. But no—his heart is with his country, and he will + serve her as long as she has got a scrapbook left. And I know clerks that + don’t know how to write very well, but such knowledge as they + possess they nobly lay at the feet of their country, and toil on and + suffer for twenty-five hundred dollars a year. What they write has to be + written over again by other clerks sometimes; but when a man has done his + best for his country, should his country complain? Then there are clerks + that have no clerkships, and are waiting, and waiting, and waiting for a + vacancy—waiting patiently for a chance to help their country out—and + while they are waiting, they only get barely two thousand dollars a year + for it. It is sad—it is very, very sad. When a member of Congress + has a friend who is gifted, but has no employment wherein his great powers + may be brought to bear, he confers him upon his country, and gives him a + clerkship in a department. And there that man has to slave his life out, + fighting documents for the benefit of a nation that never thinks of him, + never sympathizes with him—and all for two thousand or three + thousand dollars a year. When I shall have completed my list of all the + clerks in the several departments, with my statement of what they have to + do, and what they get for it, you will see that there are not half enough + clerks, and that what there are do not get half enough pay. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="history" id="history"></a>HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p271.jpg (103K)" src="images/p271.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The following I find in a Sandwich Island paper which some friend has sent + me from that tranquil far-off retreat. The coincidence between my own + experience and that here set down by the late Mr. Benton is so remarkable + that I cannot forbear publishing and commenting upon the paragraph. The + Sandwich Island paper says: + </p> + <p> + How touching is this tribute of the late Hon. T. H. Benton to his mother’s + influence:—‘My mother asked me never to use tobacco; I have + never touched it from that time to the present day. She asked me not to + gamble, and I have never gambled. I cannot tell who is losing in games + that are being played. She admonished me, too, against liquor-drinking, + and whatever capacity for endurance I have at present, and whatever + usefulness I may have attained through life, I attribute to having + complied with her pious and correct wishes. When I was seven years of age + she asked me not to drink, and then I made a resolution of total + abstinence; and that I have adhered to it through all time I owe to my + mother.’ + </p> + <p> + I never saw anything so curious. It is almost an exact epitome of my own + moral career—after simply substituting a grandmother for a mother. + How well I remember my grandmother’s asking me not to use tobacco, + good old soul! She said, “You’re at it again, are you, you + whelp? Now don’t ever let me catch you chewing tobacco before + breakfast again, or I lay I’ll blacksnake you within an inch of your + life!” I have never touched it at that hour of the morning from that + time to the present day. + </p> + <p> + She asked me not to gamble. She whispered and said, “Put up those + wicked cards this minute!—two pair and a jack, you numskull, and the + other fellow’s got a flush!” + </p> + <p> + I never have gambled from that day to this—never once—without + a “cold deck” in my pocket. I cannot even tell who is going to + lose in games that are being played unless I deal myself. + </p> + <p> + When I was two years of age she asked me not to drink, and then I made a + resolution of total abstinence. That I have adhered to it and enjoyed the + beneficent effects of it through all time, I owe to my grandmother. I have + never drunk a drop from that day to this of any kind of water. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="curiosity" id="curiosity"></a>HONORED AS A CURIOSITY + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p273.jpg (99K)" src="images/p273.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + If you get into conversation with a stranger in Honolulu, and experience + that natural desire to know what sort of ground you are treading on by + finding out what manner of man your stranger is, strike out boldly and + address him as “Captain.” Watch him narrowly, and if you see + by his countenance that you are on the wrong track, ask him where he + preaches. It is a safe bet that he is either a missionary or captain of a + whaler. I became personally acquainted with seventy-two captains and + ninety-six missionaries. The captains and ministers form one-half of the + population; the third fourth is composed of common Kanakas and mercantile + foreigners and their families; and the final fourth is made up of high + officers of the Hawaiian Government. And there are just about cats enough + for three apiece all around. + </p> + <p> + A solemn stranger met me in the suburbs one day, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, your reverence. Preach in the stone church yonder, no + doubt!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t. I’m not a preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, I beg your pardon, captain. I trust you had a good season. + How much oil—” + </p> + <p> + “Oil! Why, what do you take me for? I’m not a whaler.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I beg a thousand pardons, your Excellency. Major-General in the + household troops, no doubt? Minister of the Interior, likely? Secretary of + War? First Gentleman of the Bedchamber? Commissioner of the Royal—” + </p> + <p> + “Stuff, man! I’m not connected in any way with the government.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless my life! Then who the mischief are you? what the mischief are + you? and how the mischief did you get here? and where in thunder did you + come from?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m only a private personage—an unassuming stranger—lately + arrived from America.” + </p> + <p> + “No! Not a missionary! not a whaler! not a member of his Majesty’s + government! not even a Secretary of the Navy! Ah! Heaven! it is too + blissful to be true, alas! I do but dream. And yet that noble, honest + countenance—those oblique, ingenuous eyes—that massive head, + incapable of—of anything; your hand; give me your hand, bright waif. + Excuse these tears. For sixteen weary years I have yearned for a moment + like this, and—” + </p> + <p> + Here his feelings were too much for him, and he swooned away. I pitied + this poor creature from the bottom of my heart. I was deeply moved. I shed + a few tears on him, and kissed him for his mother. I then took what small + change he had, and “shoved.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="ward" id="ward"></a>FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1870.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p283.jpg (107K)" src="images/p283.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I had never seen him before. He brought letters of introduction from + mutual friends in San Francisco, and by invitation I breakfasted with him. + It was almost religion, there in the silver-mines, to precede such a meal + with whisky cocktails. Artemus, with the true cosmopolitan instinct, + always deferred to the customs of the country he was in, and so he ordered + three of those abominations. Hingston was present. I said I would rather + not drink a whisky cocktail. I said it would go right to my head, and + confuse me so that I would be in a helpless tangle in ten minutes. I did + not want to act like a lunatic before strangers. But Artemus gently + insisted, and I drank the treasonable mixture under protest, and felt all + the time that I was doing a thing I might be sorry for. In a minute or two + I began to imagine that my ideas were clouded. I waited in great anxiety + for the conversation to open, with a sort of vague hope that my + understanding would prove clear, after all, and my misgivings groundless. + </p> + <p> + Artemus dropped an unimportant remark or two, and then assumed a look of + superhuman earnestness, and made the following astounding speech. He said: + </p> + <p> + “Now there is one thing I ought to ask you about before I forget it. + You have been here in Silver land—here in Nevada—two or three + years, and, of course, your position on the daily press has made it + necessary for you to go down in the mines and examine them carefully in + detail, and therefore you know all about the silver-mining business. Now + what I want to get at is—is, well, the way the deposits of ore are + made, you know. For instance. Now, as I understand it, the vein which + contains the silver is sandwiched in between casings of granite, and runs + along the ground, and sticks up like a curb stone. Well, take a vein forty + feet thick, for example, or eighty, for that matter, or even a hundred—say + you go down on it with a shaft, straight down, you know, or with what you + call ‘incline’ maybe you go down five hundred feet, or maybe + you don’t go down but two hundred—anyway, you go down, and all + the time this vein grows narrower, when the casings come nearer or + approach each other, you may say—that is, when they do approach, + which, of course, they do not always do, particularly in cases where the + nature of the formation is such that they stand apart wider than they + otherwise would, and which geology has failed to account for, although + everything in that science goes to prove that, all things being equal, it + would if it did not, or would not certainly if it did, and then, of + course, they are. Do not you think it is?” + </p> + <p> + I said to myself: + </p> + <p> + “Now I just knew how it would be—that whisky cocktail has done + the business for me; I don’t understand any more than a clam.” + </p> + <p> + And then I said aloud: + </p> + <p> + “I—I—that is—if you don’t mind, would you—would + you say that over again? I ought—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly, certainly! You see I am very unfamiliar with the + subject, and perhaps I don’t present my case clearly, but I—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no-no, no-you state it plain enough, but that cocktail has + muddled me a little. But I will—no, I do understand for that matter; + but I would get the hang of it all the better if you went over it again—and + I’ll pay better attention this time.” + </p> + <p> + He said, “Why, what I was after was this.” + </p> + <p> + [Here he became even more fearfully impressive than ever, and emphasized + each particular point by checking it off on his finger-ends.] + </p> + <p> + “This vein, or lode, or ledge, or whatever you call it, runs along + between two layers of granite, just the same as if it were a sandwich. + Very well. Now suppose you go down on that, say a thousand feet, or maybe + twelve hundred (it don’t really matter) before you drift, and then + you start your drifts, some of them across the ledge, and others along the + length of it, where the sulphurets—I believe they call them + sulphurets, though why they should, considering that, so far as I can see, + the main dependence of a miner does not so lie, as some suppose, but in + which it cannot be successfully maintained, wherein the same should not + continue, while part and parcel of the same ore not committed to either in + the sense referred to, whereas, under different circumstances, the most + inexperienced among us could not detect it if it were, or might overlook + it if it did, or scorn the very idea of such a thing, even though it were + palpably demonstrated as such. Am I not right?” + </p> + <p> + I said, sorrowfully: “I feel ashamed of myself, Mr. Ward. I know I + ought to understand you perfectly well, but you see that treacherous + whisky cocktail has got into my head, and now I cannot understand even the + simplest proposition. I told you how it would be.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t mind it, don’t mind it; the fault was my own, + no doubt—though I did think it clear enough for—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say a word. Clear! Why, you stated it as clear as the + sun to anybody but an abject idiot; but it’s that confounded + cocktail that has played the mischief.” + </p> + <p> + “No; now don’t say that. I’ll begin it all over again, + and—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t now—for goodness’ sake, don’t do + anything of the kind, because I tell you my head is in such a condition + that I don’t believe I could understand the most trifling question a + man could ask me. + </p> + <p> + “Now don’t you be afraid. I’ll put it so plain this time + that you can’t help but get the hang of it. We will begin at the + very beginning.” [Leaning far across the table, with determined + impressiveness wrought upon his every feature, and fingers prepared to + keep tally of each point enumerated; and I, leaning forward with painful + interest, resolved to comprehend or perish.] “You know the vein, the + ledge, the thing that contains the metal, whereby it constitutes the + medium between all other forces, whether of present or remote agencies, so + brought to bear in favor of the former against the latter, or the latter + against the former or all, or both, or compromising the relative + differences existing within the radius whence culminate the several + degrees of similarity to which—” + </p> + <p> + I said: “Oh, hang my wooden head, it ain’t any use!—it + ain’t any use to try—I can’t understand anything. The + plainer you get it the more I can’t get the hang of it.” + </p> + <p> + I heard a suspicious noise behind me, and turned in time to see Hingston + dodging behind a newspaper, and quaking with a gentle ecstasy of laughter. + I looked at Ward again, and he had thrown off his dread solemnity and was + laughing also. Then I saw that I had been sold—that I had been made + a victim of a swindle in the way of a string of plausibly worded sentences + that didn’t mean anything under the sun. Artemus Ward was one of the + best fellows in the world, and one of the most companionable. It has been + said that he was not fluent in conversation, but, with the above + experience in my mind, I differ. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="cannibalism" id="cannibalism"></a>CANNIBALISM IN THE CARS + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1867.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p287.jpg (128K)" src="images/p287.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I visited St. Louis lately, and on my way West, after changing cars at + Terre Haute, Indiana, a mild, benevolent-looking gentleman of about + forty-five, or maybe fifty, came in at one of the way-stations and sat + down beside me. We talked together pleasantly on various subjects for an + hour, perhaps, and I found him exceedingly intelligent and entertaining. + When he learned that I was from Washington, he immediately began to ask + questions about various public men, and about Congressional affairs; and I + saw very shortly that I was conversing with a man who was perfectly + familiar with the ins and outs of political life at the Capital, even to + the ways and manners, and customs of procedure of Senators and + Representatives in the Chambers of the national Legislature. Presently two + men halted near us for a single moment, and one said to the other: + </p> + <p> + “Harris, if you’ll do that for me, I’ll never forget + you, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + My new comrade’s eye lighted pleasantly. The words had touched upon + a happy memory, I thought. Then his face settled into thoughtfulness—almost + into gloom. He turned to me and said, + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you a story; let me give you a secret chapter of my + life—a chapter that has never been referred to by me since its + events transpired. Listen patiently, and promise that you will not + interrupt me.” + </p> + <p> + I said I would not, and he related the following strange adventure, + speaking sometimes with animation, sometimes with melancholy, but always + with feeling and earnestness. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE STRANGER’S NARRATIVE + </h3> + <p> + “On the 19th of December, 1853, I started from St. Louis on the + evening train bound for Chicago. There were only twenty-four passengers, + all told. There were no ladies and no children. We were in excellent + spirits, and pleasant acquaintanceships were soon formed. The journey bade + fair to be a happy one; and no individual in the party, I think, had even + the vaguest presentiment of the horrors we were soon to undergo. + </p> + <p> + “At 11 P.M. it began to snow hard. Shortly after leaving the small + village of Welden, we entered upon that tremendous prairie solitude that + stretches its leagues on leagues of houseless dreariness far away toward + the Jubilee Settlements. The winds, unobstructed by trees or hills, or + even vagrant rocks, whistled fiercely across the level desert, driving the + falling snow before it like spray from the crested waves of a stormy sea. + The snow was deepening fast; and we knew, by the diminished speed of the + train, that the engine was plowing through it with steadily increasing + difficulty. Indeed, it almost came to a dead halt sometimes, in the midst + of great drifts that piled themselves like colossal graves across the + track. Conversation began to flag. Cheerfulness gave place to grave + concern. The possibility of being imprisoned in the snow, on the bleak + prairie, fifty miles from any house, presented itself to every mind, and + extended its depressing influence over every spirit. + </p> + <p> + “At two o’clock in the morning I was aroused out of an uneasy + slumber by the ceasing of all motion about me. The appalling truth flashed + upon me instantly—we were captives in a snow-drift! ‘All hands + to the rescue!’ Every man sprang to obey. Out into the wild night, + the pitchy darkness, the billowy snow, the driving storm, every soul + leaped, with the consciousness that a moment lost now might bring + destruction to us all. Shovels, hands, boards—anything, everything + that could displace snow, was brought into instant requisition. It was a + weird picture, that small company of frantic men fighting the banking + snows, half in the blackest shadow and half in the angry light of the + locomotive’s reflector. + </p> + <p> + “One short hour sufficed to prove the utter uselessness of our + efforts. The storm barricaded the track with a dozen drifts while we dug + one away. And worse than this, it was discovered that the last grand + charge the engine had made upon the enemy had broken the fore-and-aft + shaft of the driving-wheel! With a free track before us we should still + have been helpless. We entered the car wearied with labor, and very + sorrowful. We gathered about the stoves, and gravely canvassed our + situation. We had no provisions whatever—in this lay our chief + distress. We could not freeze, for there was a good supply of wood in the + tender. This was our only comfort. The discussion ended at last in + accepting the disheartening decision of the conductor, viz., that it would + be death for any man to attempt to travel fifty miles on foot through snow + like that. We could not send for help, and even if we could it would not + come. We must submit, and await, as patiently as we might, succor or + starvation! I think the stoutest heart there felt a momentary chill when + those words were uttered. + </p> + <p> + “Within the hour conversation subsided to a low murmur here and + there about the car, caught fitfully between the rising and falling of the + blast; the lamps grew dim; and the majority of the castaways settled + themselves among the flickering shadows to think—to forget the + present, if they could—to sleep, if they might. + </p> + <p> + “The eternal night—it surely seemed eternal to us—wore + its lagging hours away at last, and the cold gray dawn broke in the east. + As the light grew stronger the passengers began to stir and give signs of + life, one after another, and each in turn pushed his slouched hat up from + his forehead, stretched his stiffened limbs, and glanced out of the + windows upon the cheerless prospect. It was cheer less, indeed!—not + a living thing visible anywhere, not a human habitation; nothing but a + vast white desert; uplifted sheets of snow drifting hither and thither + before the wind—a world of eddying flakes shutting out the firmament + above. + </p> + <p> + “All day we moped about the cars, saying little, thinking much. + Another lingering dreary night—and hunger. + </p> + <p> + “Another dawning—another day of silence, sadness, wasting + hunger, hopeless watching for succor that could not come. A night of + restless slumber, filled with dreams of feasting—wakings distressed + with the gnawings of hunger. + </p> + <p> + “The fourth day came and went—and the fifth! Five days of + dreadful imprisonment! A savage hunger looked out at every eye. There was + in it a sign of awful import—the foreshadowing of a something that + was vaguely shaping itself in every heart—a something which no + tongue dared yet to frame into words. + </p> + <p> + “The sixth day passed—the seventh dawned upon as gaunt and + haggard and hopeless a company of men as ever stood in the shadow of + death. It must out now! That thing which had been growing up in every + heart was ready to leap from every lip at last! Nature had been taxed to + the utmost—she must yield. RICHARD H. GASTON of Minnesota, tall, + cadaverous, and pale, rose up. All knew what was coming. All prepared—every + emotion, every semblance of excitement—was smothered—only a + calm, thoughtful seriousness appeared in the eyes that were lately so + wild. + </p> + <p> + “‘Gentlemen: It cannot be delayed longer! The time is at hand! + We must determine which of us shall die to furnish food for the rest!’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. JOHN J. WILLIAMS of Illinois rose and said: ‘Gentlemen—I + nominate the Rev. James Sawyer of Tennessee.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. Wm. R. ADAMS of Indiana said: ‘I nominate Mr. Daniel + Slote of New York.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. CHARLES J. LANGDON: ‘I nominate Mr. Samuel A. Bowen of + St. Louis.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. SLOTE: ‘Gentlemen—I desire to decline in favor of + Mr. John A. Van Nostrand, Jun., of New Jersey.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. GASTON: ‘If there be no objection, the gentleman’s + desire will be acceded to.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. VAN NOSTRAND objecting, the resignation of Mr. Slote was + rejected. The resignations of Messrs. Sawyer and Bowen were also offered, + and refused upon the same grounds. + </p> + <p> + “MR. A. L. BASCOM of Ohio: ‘I move that the nominations now + close, and that the House proceed to an election by ballot.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. SAWYER: ‘Gentlemen—I protest earnestly against + these proceedings. They are, in every way, irregular and unbecoming. I + must beg to move that they be dropped at once, and that we elect a + chairman of the meeting and proper officers to assist him, and then we can + go on with the business before us understandingly.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. BELL of Iowa: ‘Gentlemen—I object. This is no time + to stand upon forms and ceremonious observances. For more than seven days + we have been without food. Every moment we lose in idle discussion + increases our distress. I am satisfied with the nominations that have been + made—every gentleman present is, I believe—and I, for one, do + not see why we should not proceed at once to elect one or more of them. I + wish to offer a resolution—’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. GASTON: ‘It would be objected to, and have to lie over + one day under the rules, thus bringing about the very delay you wish to + avoid. The gentleman from New Jersey—’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. VAN NOSTRAND: ‘Gentlemen—I am a stranger among you; + I have not sought the distinction that has been conferred upon me, and I + feel a delicacy—’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. MORGAN Of Alabama (interrupting): ‘I move the previous + question.’ + </p> + <p> + “The motion was carried, and further debate shut off, of course. The + motion to elect officers was passed, and under it Mr. Gaston was chosen + chairman, Mr. Blake, secretary, Messrs. Holcomb, Dyer, and Baldwin a + committee on nominations, and Mr. R. M. Howland, purveyor, to assist the + committee in making selections. + </p> + <p> + “A recess of half an hour was then taken, and some little caucusing + followed. At the sound of the gavel the meeting reassembled, and the + committee reported in favor of Messrs. George Ferguson of Kentucky, Lucien + Herrman of Louisiana, and W. Messick of Colorado as candidates. The report + was accepted. + </p> + <p> + “MR. ROGERS of Missouri: ‘Mr. President—The report being + properly before the House now, I move to amend it by substituting for the + name of Mr. Herrman that of Mr. Lucius Harris of St. Louis, who is well + and honorably known to us all. I do not wish to be understood as casting + the least reflection upon the high character and standing of the gentleman + from Louisiana—far from it. I respect and esteem him as much as any + gentleman here present possibly can; but none of us can be blind to the + fact that he has lost more flesh during the week that we have lain here + than any among us—none of us can be blind to the fact that the + committee has been derelict in its duty, either through negligence or a + graver fault, in thus offering for our suffrages a gentleman who, however + pure his own motives may be, has really less nutriment in him—’ + </p> + <p> + “THE CHAIR: ‘The gentleman from Missouri will take his seat. + The Chair cannot allow the integrity of the committee to be questioned + save by the regular course, under the rules. What action will the House + take upon the gentleman’s motion?’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. HALLIDAY of Virginia: ‘I move to further amend the report + by substituting Mr. Harvey Davis of Oregon for Mr. Messick. It may be + urged by gentlemen that the hardships and privations of a frontier life + have rendered Mr. Davis tough; but, gentlemen, is this a time to cavil at + toughness? Is this a time to be fastidious concerning trifles? Is this a + time to dispute about matters of paltry significance? No, gentlemen, bulk + is what we desire—substance, weight, bulk—these are the + supreme requisites now—not talent, not genius, not education. I + insist upon my motion.’ + </p> + <p> + “MR. MORGAN (excitedly): ‘Mr. Chairman—I do most + strenuously object to this amendment. The gentleman from Oregon is old, + and furthermore is bulky only in bone—not in flesh. I ask the + gentleman from Virginia if it is soup we want instead of solid sustenance? + if he would delude us with shadows? if he would mock our suffering with an + Oregonian specter? I ask him if he can look upon the anxious faces around + him, if he can gaze into our sad eyes, if he can listen to the beating of + our expectant hearts, and still thrust this famine-stricken fraud upon us? + I ask him if he can think of our desolate state, of our past sorrows, of + our dark future, and still unpityingly foist upon us this wreck, this + ruin, this tottering swindle, this gnarled and blighted and sapless + vagabond from Oregon’s inhospitable shores? Never!’ + [Applause.] + </p> + <p> + “The amendment was put to vote, after a fiery debate, and lost. Mr. + Harris was substituted on the first amendment. The balloting then began. + Five ballots were held without a choice. On the sixth, Mr. Harris was + elected, all voting for him but himself. It was then moved that his + election should be ratified by acclamation, which was lost, in consequence + of his again voting against himself. + </p> + <p> + “MR. RADWAY moved that the House now take up the remaining + candidates, and go into an election for breakfast. This was carried. + </p> + <p> + “On the first ballot there was a tie, half the members favoring one + candidate on account of his youth, and half favoring the other on account + of his superior size. The President gave the casting vote for the latter, + Mr. Messick. This decision created considerable dissatisfaction among the + friends of Mr. Ferguson, the defeated candidate, and there was some talk + of demanding a new ballot; but in the midst of it a motion to adjourn was + carried, and the meeting broke up at once. + </p> + <p> + “The preparations for supper diverted the attention of the Ferguson + faction from the discussion of their grievance for a long time, and then, + when they would have taken it up again, the happy announcement that Mr. + Harris was ready drove all thought of it to the winds. + </p> + <p> + “We improvised tables by propping up the backs of car-seats, and sat + down with hearts full of gratitude to the finest supper that had blessed + our vision for seven torturing days. How changed we were from what we had + been a few short hours before! Hopeless, sad-eyed misery, hunger, feverish + anxiety, desperation, then; thankfulness, serenity, joy too deep for + utterance now. That I know was the cheeriest hour of my eventful life. The + winds howled, and blew the snow wildly about our prison house, but they + were powerless to distress us any more. I liked Harris. He might have been + better done, perhaps, but I am free to say that no man ever agreed with me + better than Harris, or afforded me so large a degree of satisfaction. + Messick was very well, though rather high-flavored, but for genuine + nutritiousness and delicacy of fiber, give me Harris. Messick had his good + points—I will not attempt to deny it, nor do I wish to do it—but + he was no more fitted for breakfast than a mummy would be, sir—not a + bit. Lean?—why, bless me!—and tough? Ah, he was very tough! + You could not imagine it—you could never imagine anything like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me that—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not interrupt me, please. After breakfast we elected a man by + the name of Walker, from Detroit, for supper. He was very good. I wrote + his wife so afterward. He was worthy of all praise. I shall always + remember Walker. He was a little rare, but very good. And then the next + morning we had Morgan of Alabama for breakfast. He was one of the finest + men I ever sat down to—handsome, educated, refined, spoke several + languages fluently—a perfect gentleman—he was a perfect + gentleman, and singularly juicy. For supper we had that Oregon patriarch, + and he was a fraud, there is no question about it—old, scraggy, + tough, nobody can picture the reality. I finally said, gentlemen, you can + do as you like, but I will wait for another election. And Grimes of + Illinois said, ‘Gentlemen, I will wait also. When you elect a man + that has something to recommend him, I shall be glad to join you again.’ + It soon became evident that there was general dissatisfaction with Davis + of Oregon, and so, to preserve the good will that had prevailed so + pleasantly since we had had Harris, an election was called, and the result + of it was that Baker of Georgia was chosen. He was splendid! Well, well—after + that we had Doolittle, and Hawkins, and McElroy (there was some complaint + about McElroy, because he was uncommonly short and thin), and Penrod, and + two Smiths, and Bailey (Bailey had a wooden leg, which was clear loss, but + he was otherwise good), and an Indian boy, and an organ-grinder, and a + gentleman by the name of Buckminster—a poor stick of a vagabond that + wasn’t any good for company and no account for breakfast. We were + glad we got him elected before relief came.” + </p> + <p> + “And so the blessed relief did come at last?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it came one bright, sunny morning, just after election. John + Murphy was the choice, and there never was a better, I am willing to + testify; but John Murphy came home with us, in the train that came to + succor us, and lived to marry the widow Harris—” + </p> + <p> + “Relict of—” + </p> + <p> + “Relict of our first choice. He married her, and is happy and + respected and prosperous yet. Ah, it was like a novel, sir—it was + like a romance. This is my stopping-place, sir; I must bid you goodby. Any + time that you can make it convenient to tarry a day or two with me, I + shall be glad to have you. I like you, sir; I have conceived an affection + for you. I could like you as well as I liked Harris himself, sir. Good + day, sir, and a pleasant journey.” + </p> + <p> + He was gone. I never felt so stunned, so distressed, so bewildered in my + life. But in my soul I was glad he was gone. With all his gentleness of + manner and his soft voice, I shuddered whenever he turned his hungry eye + upon me; and when I heard that I had achieved his perilous affection, and + that I stood almost with the late Harris in his esteem, my heart fairly + stood still! + </p> + <p> + I was bewildered beyond description. I did not doubt his word; I could not + question a single item in a statement so stamped with the earnestness of + truth as his; but its dreadful details overpowered me, and threw my + thoughts into hopeless confusion. I saw the conductor looking at me. I + said, “Who is that man?” + </p> + <p> + “He was a member of Congress once, and a good one. But he got caught + in a snow-drift in the cars, and like to have been starved to death. He + got so frost-bitten and frozen up generally, and used up for want of + something to eat, that he was sick and out of his head two or three months + afterward. He is all right now, only he is a monomaniac, and when he gets + on that old subject he never stops till he has eat up that whole car-load + of people he talks about. He would have finished the crowd by this time, + only he had to get out here. He has got their names as pat as A B C. When + he gets them all eat up but himself, he always says: ‘Then the hour + for the usual election for breakfast having arrived, and there being no + opposition, I was duly elected, after which, there being no objections + offered, I resigned. Thus I am here.’” + </p> + <p> + I felt inexpressibly relieved to know that I had only been listening to + the harmless vagaries of a madman instead of the genuine experiences of a + bloodthirsty cannibal. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="caesar" id="caesar"></a>THE KILLING OF JULIUS CAESAR “LOCALIZED” + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1865.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p162.jpg (129K)" src="images/p162.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Being the only true and reliable account ever published; taken from the + Roman “Daily Evening Fasces,” of the date of that tremendous + occurrence. + </p> + <p> + Nothing in the world affords a newspaper reporter so much satisfaction as + gathering up the details of a bloody and mysterious murder and writing + them up with aggravating circumstantiality. He takes a living delight in + this labor of love—for such it is to him, especially if he knows + that all the other papers have gone to press, and his will be the only one + that will contain the dreadful intelligence. A feeling of regret has often + come over me that I was not reporting in Rome when Caesar was killed—reporting + on an evening paper, and the only one in the city, and getting at least + twelve hours ahead of the morning-paper boys with this most magnificent + “item” that ever fell to the lot of the craft. Other events + have happened as startling as this, but none that possessed so peculiarly + all the characteristics of the favorite “item” of the present + day, magnified into grandeur and sublimity by the high rank, fame, and + social and political standing of the actors in it. + </p> + <p> + However, as I was not permitted to report Caesar’s assassination in + the regular way, it has at least afforded me rare satisfaction to + translate the following able account of it from the original Latin of the + Roman Daily Evening Fasces of that date—second edition: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> Our usually quiet city of Rome was thrown into a state of wild + excitement yesterday by the occurrence of one of those bloody affrays + which sicken the heart and fill the soul with fear, while they inspire + all thinking men with forebodings for the future of a city where human + life is held so cheaply and the gravest laws are so openly set at + defiance. As the result of that affray, it is our painful duty, as + public journalists, to record the death of one of our most esteemed + citizens—a man whose name is known wherever this paper circulates, + and whose fame it has been our pleasure and our privilege to extend, and + also to protect from the tongue of slander and falsehood, to the best of + our poor ability. We refer to Mr. J. Caesar, the Emperor-elect.<br /> + <br /> The facts of the case, as nearly as our reporter could determine + them from the conflicting statements of eye-witnesses, were about as + follows:—The affair was an election row, of course. Nine-tenths of + the ghastly butcheries that disgrace the city nowadays grow out of the + bickerings and jealousies and animosities engendered by these accursed + elections. Rome would be the gainer by it if her very constables were + elected to serve a century; for in our experience we have never even + been able to choose a dog-pelter without celebrating the event with a + dozen knockdowns and a general cramming of the station-house with + drunken vagabonds overnight. It is said that when the immense majority + for Caesar at the polls in the market was declared the other day, and + the crown was offered to that gentleman, even his amazing unselfishness + in refusing it three times was not sufficient to save him from the + whispered insults of such men as Casca, of the Tenth Ward, and other + hirelings of the disappointed candidate, hailing mostly from the + Eleventh and Thirteenth and other outside districts, who were overheard + speaking ironically and contemptuously of Mr. Caesar’s conduct + upon that occasion.<br /> <br /> We are further informed that there are + many among us who think they are justified in believing that the + assassination of Julius Caesar was a put-up thing—a cut-and-dried + arrangement, hatched by Marcus Brutus and a lot of his hired roughs, and + carried out only too faithfully according to the program. Whether there + be good grounds for this suspicion or not, we leave to the people to + judge for themselves, only asking that they will read the following + account of the sad occurrence carefully and dispassionately before they + render that judgment.<br /> <br /> The Senate was already in session, and + Caesar was coming down the street toward the capitol, conversing with + some personal friends, and followed, as usual, by a large number of + citizens. Just as he was passing in front of Demosthenes and Thucydides’ + drug store, he was observing casually to a gentleman, who, our informant + thinks, is a fortune-teller, that the Ides of March were come. The reply + was, “Yes, they are come, but not gone yet.” At this moment + Artexnidorus stepped up and passed the time of day, and asked Caesar to + read a schedule or a tract or something of the kind, which he had + brought for his perusal. Mr. Decius Brutus also said something about an + “humble suit” which he wanted read. Artexnidorus begged that + attention might be paid to his first, because it was of personal + consequence to Caesar. The latter replied that what concerned himself + should be read last, or words to that effect. Artemidorus begged and + beseeched him to read the paper instantly!—[Mark that: It is + hinted by William Shakespeare, who saw the beginning and the end of the + unfortunate affray, that this “schedule” was simply a note + discovering to Caesar that a plot was brewing to take his life.]—However, + Caesar shook him off, and refused to read any petition in the street. He + then entered the capitol, and the crowd followed him.<br /> <br /> About + this time the following conversation was overheard, and we consider + that, taken in connection with the events which succeeded it, it bears + an appalling significance: Mr. Papilius Lena remarked to George W. + Cassius (commonly known as the “Nobby Boy of the Third Ward”), + a bruiser in the pay of the Opposition, that he hoped his enterprise + to-day might thrive; and when Cassius asked “What enterprise?” + he only closed his left eye temporarily and said with simulated + indifference, “Fare you well,” and sauntered toward Caesar. + Marcus Brutus, who is suspected of being the ringleader of the band that + killed Caesar, asked what it was that Lena had said. Cassius told him, + and added in a low tone, “I fear our purpose is discovered."<br /> + <br /> Brutus told his wretched accomplice to keep an eye on Lena, and a + moment after Cassius urged that lean and hungry vagrant, Casca, whose + reputation here is none of the best, to be sudden, for he feared + prevention. He then turned to Brutus, apparently much excited, and asked + what should be done, and swore that either he or Caesar would never turn + back—he would kill himself first. At this time Caesar was talking + to some of the back-country members about the approaching fall + elections, and paying little attention to what was going on around him. + Billy Trebonius got into conversation with the people’s friend and + Caesar’s—Mark Antony—and under some pretense or other + got him away, and Brutus, Decius, Casca, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and + others of the gang of infamous desperadoes that infest Rome at present, + closed around the doomed Caesar. Then Metellus Cimber knelt down and + begged that his brother might be recalled from banishment, but Caesar + rebuked him for his fawning conduct, and refused to grant his petition. + Immediately, at Cimber’s request, first Brutus and then Cassias + begged for the return of the banished Publius; but Caesar still refused. + He said he could not be moved; that he was as fixed as the North Star, + and proceeded to speak in the most complimentary terms of the firmness + of that star and its steady character. Then he said he was like it, and + he believed he was the only man in the country that was; therefore, + since he was “constant” that Cimber should be banished, he + was also “constant” that he should stay banished, and he’d + be hanged if he didn’t keep him so!<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p164.jpg (79K)" src="images/p164.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Instantly seizing upon this shallow + pretext for a fight, Casca sprang at Caesar and struck him with a dirk, + Caesar grabbing him by the arm with his right hand, and launching a blow + straight from the shoulder with his left, that sent the reptile bleeding + to the earth. He then backed up against Pompey’s statue, and + squared himself to receive his assailants. Cassias and Cimber and Cinna + rushed upon him with their daggers drawn, and the former succeeded in + inflicting a wound upon his body; but before he could strike again, and + before either of the others could strike at all, Caesar stretched the + three miscreants at his feet with as many blows of his powerful fist. By + this time the Senate was in an indescribable uproar; the throng of + citizens in the lobbies had blockaded the doors in their frantic efforts + to escape from the building, the sergeant-at-arms and his assistants + were struggling with the assassins, venerable senators had cast aside + their encumbering robes, and were leaping over benches and flying down + the aisles in wild confusion toward the shelter of the committee-rooms, + and a thousand voices were shouting “Po-lice! Po-lice!” in + discordant tones that rose above the frightful din like shrieking winds + above the roaring of a tempest. And amid it all great Caesar stood with + his back against the statue, like a lion at bay, and fought his + assailants weaponless and hand to hand, with the defiant bearing and the + unwavering courage which he had shown before on many a bloody field. + Billy Trebonius and Caius Legarius struck him with their daggers and + fell, as their brother-conspirators before them had fallen. But at last, + when Caesar saw his old friend Brutus step forward armed with a + murderous knife, it is said he seemed utterly overpowered with grief and + amazement, and, dropping his invincible left arm by his side, he hid his + face in the folds of his mantle and received the treacherous blow + without an effort to stay the hand that gave it. He only said, “Et + tu, Brute?” and fell lifeless on the marble pavement.<br /> <br /> + We learn that the coat deceased had on when he was killed was the same + one he wore in his tent on the afternoon of the day he overcame the + Nervii, and that when it was removed from the corpse it was found to be + cut and gashed in no less than seven different places. There was nothing + in the pockets. It will be exhibited at the coroner’s inquest, and + will be damning proof of the fact of the killing. These latter facts may + be relied on, as we get them from Mark Antony, whose position enables + him to learn every item of news connected with the one subject of + absorbing interest of-to-day.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p165.jpg (35K)" src="images/p165.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> LATER:—While the coroner was + summoning a jury, Mark Antony and other friends of the late Caesar got + hold of the body, and lugged it off to the Forum, and at last accounts + Antony and Brutus were making speeches over it and raising such a row + among the people that, as we go to press, the chief of police is + satisfied there is going to be a riot, and is taking measures + accordingly. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="widow" id="widow"></a>THE WIDOW’S PROTEST + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + One of the saddest things that ever came under my notice (said the banker’s + clerk) was there in Corning during the war. Dan Murphy enlisted as a + private, and fought very bravely. The boys all liked him, and when a wound + by and by weakened him down till carrying a musket was too heavy work for + him, they clubbed together and fixed him up as a sutler. He made money + then, and sent it always to his wife to bank for him. She was a washer and + ironer, and knew enough by hard experience to keep money when she got it. + She didn’t waste a penny. + </p> + <p> + On the contrary, she began to get miserly as her bank-account grew. She + grieved to part with a cent, poor creature, for twice in her hard-working + life she had known what it was to be hungry, cold, friendless, sick, and + without a dollar in the world, and she had a haunting dread of suffering + so again. Well, at last Dan died; and the boys, in testimony of their + esteem and respect for him, telegraphed to Mrs. Murphy to know if she + would like to have him embalmed and sent home, when you know the usual + custom was to dump a poor devil like him into a shallow hole, and then + inform his friends what had become of him. Mrs. Murphy jumped to the + conclusion that it would only cost two or three dollars to embalm her dead + husband, and so she telegraphed “Yes.” It was at the “wake” + that the bill for embalming arrived and was presented to the widow. + </p> + <p> + She uttered a wild, sad wail that pierced every heart, and said, “Sivinty-foive + dollars for stooffin’ Dan, blister their sowls! Did thim divils + suppose I was goin’ to stairt a Museim, that I’d be dalin’ + in such expinsive curiassities!” + </p> + <p> + The banker’s clerk said there was not a dry eye in the house. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="panoramist" id="panoramist"></a>THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1866.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p296.jpg (109K)" src="images/p296.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “There was a fellow traveling around in that country,” said + Mr. Nickerson, “with a moral-religious show—a sort of + scriptural panorama—and he hired a wooden-headed old slab to play + the piano for him. After the first night’s performance the showman + says: + </p> + <p> + “‘My friend, you seem to know pretty much all the tunes there + are, and you worry along first rate. But then, didn’t you notice + that sometimes last night the piece you happened to be playing was a + little rough on the proprieties, so to speak—didn’t seem to + jibe with the general gait of the picture that was passing at the time, as + it were—was a little foreign to the subject, you know—as if + you didn’t either trump or follow suit, you understand?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, no,’ the fellow said; ‘he hadn’t + noticed, but it might be; he had played along just as it came handy.’ + </p> + <p> + “So they put it up that the simple old dummy was to keep his eye on + the panorama after that, and as soon as a stunning picture was reeled out + he was to fit it to a dot with a piece of music that would help the + audience to get the idea of the subject, and warm them up like a + camp-meeting revival. That sort of thing would corral their sympathies, + the showman said. + </p> + <p> + “There was a big audience that night—mostly middle-aged and + old people who belong to the church, and took a strong interest in Bible + matters, and the balance were pretty much young bucks and heifers—they + always come out strong on panoramas, you know, because it gives them a + chance to taste one another’s complexions in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the showman began to swell himself up for his lecture, and + the old mud-jobber tackled the piano and ran his fingers up and down once + or twice to see that she was all right, and the fellows behind the curtain + commenced to grind out the panorama. The showman balanced his weight on + his right foot, and propped his hands over his hips, and flung his eyes + over his shoulder at the scenery, and said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Ladies and gentlemen, the painting now before you + illustrates the beautiful and touching parable of the Prodigal Son. + Observe the happy expression just breaking over the features of the poor, + suffering youth—so worn and weary with his long march; note also the + ecstasy beaming from the uplifted countenance of the aged father, and the + joy that sparkles in the eyes of the excited group of youths and maidens, + and seems ready to burst into the welcoming chorus from their lips. The + lesson, my friends, is as solemn and instructive as the story is tender + and beautiful.’ + </p> + <p> + “The mud-jobber was all ready, and when the second speech was + finished, struck up: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + “Oh, we’ll all get blind drunk<br /> When Johnny comes + marching home! + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “Some of the people giggled, and some groaned a little. The showman + couldn’t say a word; he looked at the pianist sharp, but he was all + lovely and serene—he didn’t know there was anything out of + gear. + </p> + <p> + “The panorama moved on, and the showman drummed up his grit and + started in fresh. + </p> + <p> + “‘Ladies and gentlemen, the fine picture now unfolding itself + to your gaze exhibits one of the most notable events in Bible history—our + Saviour and His disciples upon the Sea of Galilee. How grand, how + awe-inspiring are the reflections which the subject invokes! What + sublimity of faith is revealed to us in this lesson from the sacred + writings! The Saviour rebukes the angry waves, and walks securely upon the + bosom of the deep!’ + </p> + <p> + “All around the house they were whispering, ‘Oh, how lovely, + how beautiful!’ and the orchestra let himself out again: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + “A life on the ocean wave,<br /> And a home on the rolling deep! + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “There was a good deal of honest snickering turned on this time, and + considerable groaning, and one or two old deacons got up and went out. The + showman grated his teeth, and cursed the piano man to himself; but the + fellow sat there like a knot on a log, and seemed to think he was doing + first-rate. + </p> + <p> + “After things got quiet the showman thought he would make one more + stagger at it, anyway, though his confidence was beginning to get mighty + shaky. The supes started the panorama grinding along again, and he says: + </p> + <p> + “‘Ladies and gentlemen, this exquisite painting represents the + raising of Lazarus from the dead by our Saviour. The subject has been + handled with marvelous skill by the artist, and such touching sweetness + and tenderness of expression has he thrown into it that I have known + peculiarly sensitive persons to be even affected to tears by looking at + it. Observe the half-confused, half-inquiring look upon the countenance of + the awakened Lazarus. Observe, also, the attitude and expression of the + Saviour, who takes him gently by the sleeve of his shroud with one hand, + while He points with the other toward the distant city.’ + </p> + <p> + “Before anybody could get off an opinion in the case the innocent + old ass at the piano struck up: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + “Come rise up, William Ri-i-ley,<br /> And go along with me! + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + “Whe-ew! All the solemn old flats got up in a huff to go, and + everybody else laughed till the windows rattled. + </p> + <p> + “The showman went down and grabbed the orchestra and shook him up + and says: + </p> + <p> + “‘That lets you out, you know, you chowder-headed old clam. Go + to the doorkeeper and get your money, and cut your stick—vamose the + ranch! Ladies and gentlemen, circumstances over which I have no control + compel me prematurely to dismiss the house.’” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="cold" id="cold"></a>CURING A COLD + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1864] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p300.jpg (138K)" src="images/p300.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + It is a good thing, perhaps, to write for the amusement of the public, but + it is a far higher and nobler thing to write for their instruction, their + profit, their actual and tangible benefit. The latter is the sole object + of this article. If it prove the means of restoring to health one solitary + sufferer among my race, of lighting up once more the fire of hope and joy + in his faded eyes, of bringing back to his dead heart again the quick, + generous impulses of other days, I shall be amply rewarded for my labor; + my soul will be permeated with the sacred delight a Christian feels when + he has done a good, unselfish deed. + </p> + <p> + Having led a pure and blameless life, I am justified in believing that no + man who knows me will reject the suggestions I am about to make, out of + fear that I am trying to deceive him. Let the public do itself the honor + to read my experience in doctoring a cold, as herein set forth, and then + follow in my footsteps. + </p> + <p> + When the White House was burned in Virginia City, I lost my home, my + happiness, my constitution, and my trunk. The loss of the two first named + articles was a matter of no great consequence, since a home without a + mother, or a sister, or a distant young female relative in it, to remind + you, by putting your soiled linen out of sight and taking your boots down + off the mantelpiece, that there are those who think about you and care for + you, is easily obtained. And I cared nothing for the loss of my happiness, + because, not being a poet, it could not be possible that melancholy would + abide with me long. But to lose a good constitution and a better trunk + were serious misfortunes. On the day of the fire my constitution succumbed + to a severe cold, caused by undue exertion in getting ready to do + something. I suffered to no purpose, too, because the plan I was figuring + at for the extinguishing of the fire was so elaborate that I never got it + completed until the middle of the following week. + </p> + <p> + The first time I began to sneeze, a friend told me to go and bathe my feet + in hot water and go to bed. I did so. Shortly afterwards, another friend + advised me to get up and take a cold shower-bath. I did that also. Within + the hour, another friend assured me that it was policy to “feed a + cold and starve a fever.” I had both. So I thought it best to fill + myself up for the cold, and then keep dark and let the fever starve + awhile. + </p> + <p> + In a case of this kind, I seldom do things by halves; I ate pretty + heartily; I conferred my custom upon a stranger who had just opened his + restaurant that morning; he waited near me in respectful silence until I + had finished feeding my cold, when he inquired if the people about + Virginia City were much afflicted with colds? I told him I thought they + were. He then went out and took in his sign. + </p> + <p> + I started down toward the office, and on the way encountered another bosom + friend, who told me that a quart of salt-water, taken warm, would come as + near curing a cold as anything in the world. I hardly thought I had room + for it, but I tried it anyhow. The result was surprising. I believed I had + thrown up my immortal soul. + </p> + <p> + Now, as I am giving my experience only for the benefit of those who are + troubled with the distemper I am writing about, I feel that they will see + the propriety of my cautioning them against following such portions of it + as proved inefficient with me, and acting upon this conviction, I warn + them against warm salt-water. It may be a good enough remedy, but I think + it is too severe. If I had another cold in the head, and there were no + course left me but to take either an earthquake or a quart of warm + saltwater, I would take my chances on the earthquake. + </p> + <p> + After the storm which had been raging in my stomach had subsided, and no + more good Samaritans happening along, I went on borrowing handkerchiefs + again and blowing them to atoms, as had been my custom in the early stages + of my cold, until I came across a lady who had just arrived from over the + plains, and who said she had lived in a part of the country where doctors + were scarce, and had from necessity acquired considerable skill in the + treatment of simple “family complaints.” I knew she must have + had much experience, for she appeared to be a hundred and fifty years old. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p302.jpg (32K)" src="images/p302.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + She mixed a decoction composed of molasses, aquafortis, turpentine, and + various other drugs, and instructed me to take a wine-glass full of it + every fifteen minutes. I never took but one dose; that was enough; it + robbed me of all moral principle, and awoke every unworthy impulse of my + nature. Under its malign influence my brain conceived miracles of + meanness, but my hands were too feeble to execute them; at that time, had + it not been that my strength had surrendered to a succession of assaults + from infallible remedies for my cold, I am satisfied that I would have + tried to rob the graveyard. Like most other people, I often feel mean, and + act accordingly; but until I took that medicine I had never reveled in + such supernatural depravity, and felt proud of it. At the end of two days + I was ready to go to doctoring again. I took a few more unfailing + remedies, and finally drove my cold from my head to my lungs. + </p> + <p> + I got to coughing incessantly, and my voice fell below zero; I conversed + in a thundering bass, two octaves below my natural tone; I could only + compass my regular nightly repose by coughing myself down to a state of + utter exhaustion, and then the moment I began to talk in my sleep, my + discordant voice woke me up again. + </p> + <p> + My case grew more and more serious every day. A plain gin was recommended; + I took it. Then gin and molasses; I took that also. Then gin and onions; I + added the onions, and took all three. I detected no particular result, + however, except that I had acquired a breath like a buzzard’s. + </p> + <p> + I found I had to travel for my health. I went to Lake Bigler with my + reportorial comrade, Wilson. It is gratifying to me to reflect that we + traveled in considerable style; we went in the Pioneer coach, and my + friend took all his baggage with him, consisting of two excellent silk + handkerchiefs and a daguerreotype of his grandmother. We sailed and hunted + and fished and danced all day, and I doctored my cough all night. By managing + in this way, I made out to improve every hour in the twenty-four. But my + disease continued to grow worse. + </p> + <p> + A sheet-bath was recommended. I had never refused a remedy yet, and it + seemed poor policy to commence then; therefore I determined to take a + sheet-bath, notwithstanding I had no idea what sort of arrangement it was. + It was administered at midnight, and the weather was very frosty. My + breast and back were bared, and a sheet (there appeared to be a thousand + yards of it) soaked in ice-water, was wound around me until I resembled a + swab for a Columbiad. + </p> + <p> + It is a cruel expedient. When the chilly rag touches one’s warm + flesh, it makes him start with sudden violence, and gasp for breath just + as men do in the death-agony. It froze the marrow in my bones and stopped + the beating of my heart. I thought my time had come. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p304.jpg (24K)" src="images/p304.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Young Wilson said the circumstance reminded him of an anecdote about a + negro who was being baptized, and who slipped from the parson’s + grasp, and came near being drowned. He floundered around, though, and + finally rose up out of the water considerably strangled and furiously + angry, and started ashore at once, spouting water like a whale, and + remarking, with great asperity, that “one o’ dese days some + gen’l’man’s nigger gwyne to get killed wid jis’ + such damn foolishness as dis!” + </p> + <p> + Never take a sheet-bath—never. Next to meeting a lady acquaintance + who, for reasons best known to herself, don’t see you when she looks + at you, and don’t know you when she does see you, it is the most + uncomfortable thing in the world. + </p> + <p> + But, as I was saying, when the sheet-bath failed to cure my cough, a lady + friend recommended the application of a mustard plaster to my breast. I + believe that would have cured me effectually, if it had not been for young + Wilson. When I went to bed, I put my mustard plaster—which was a + very gorgeous one, eighteen inches square—where I could reach it + when I was ready for it. But young Wilson got hungry in the night, and—here + is food for the imagination. + </p> + <p> + After sojourning a week at Lake Bigler, I went to Steamboat Springs, and, + besides the steam-baths, I took a lot of the vilest medicines that were + ever concocted. They would have cured me, but I had to go back to Virginia + City, where, notwithstanding the variety of new remedies I absorbed every + day, I managed to aggravate my disease by carelessness and undue exposure. + </p> + <p> + I finally concluded to visit San Francisco, and the first day I got there + a lady at the hotel told me to drink a quart of whisky every twenty-four + hours, and a friend up-town recommended precisely the same course. Each + advised me to take a quart; that made half a gallon. I did it, and still + live. + </p> + <p> + Now, with the kindest motives in the world, I offer for the consideration + of consumptive patients the variegated course of treatment I have lately + gone through. Let them try it; if it don’t cure, it can’t more + than kill them. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p305.jpg (24K)" src="images/p305.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="excursion" id="excursion"></a>A CURIOUS PLEASURE EXCURSION + </h2> + <h3> + [Published at the time of the “Comet Scare” in the summer of + 1874] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p306.jpg (111K)" src="images/p306.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + [We have received the following advertisement, but, inasmuch as it + concerns a matter of deep and general interest, we feel fully justified in + inserting it in our reading-columns. We are confident that our conduct in + this regard needs only explanation, not apology.—Ed., N. Y. Herald.] + </p> + <h3> + ADVERTISEMENT + </h3> + <blockquote> + <p> + <br /> This is to inform the public that in connection with Mr. Barnum I + have leased the comet for a term of years; and I desire also to solicit + the public patronage in favor of a beneficial enterprise which we have + in view.<br /> <br /> We propose to fit up comfortable, and even + luxurious, accommodations in the comet for as many persons as will honor + us with their patronage, and make an extended excursion among the + heavenly bodies. We shall prepare 1,000,000 state-rooms in the tail of + the comet (with hot and cold water, gas, looking-glass, parachute, + umbrella, etc., in each), and shall construct more if we meet with a + sufficiently generous encouragement. We shall have billiard-rooms, + card-rooms, music-rooms, bowling-alleys and many spacious theaters and + free libraries; and on the main deck we propose to have a driving park, + with upward of 100,000 miles of roadway in it. We shall publish daily + newspapers also.<br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + DEPARTURE OF THE COMET + </h3> + <p> + The comet will leave New York at 10 P.M. on the 20th inst., and + therefore it will be desirable that the passengers be on board by eight + at the latest, to avoid confusion in getting under way. It is not known + whether passports will be necessary or not, but it is deemed best that + passengers provide them, and so guard against all contingencies. No dogs + will be allowed on board. This rule has been made in deference to the + existing state of feeling regarding these animals, and will be strictly + adhered to. The safety of the passengers will in all ways be jealously + looked to. A substantial iron railing will be put up all around the + comet, and no one will be allowed to go to the edge and look over unless + accompanied by either my partner or myself. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE POSTAL SERVICE + </h3> + <p> + will be of the completest character. Of course the telegraph, and the + telegraph only, will be employed; consequently friends occupying + state-rooms 20,000,000 and even 30,000,000 miles apart will be able to + send a message and receive a reply inside of eleven days. Night messages + will be half-rate. The whole of this vast postal system will be under + the personal superintendence of Mr. Hale of Maine. Meals served at all + hours. Meals served in staterooms charged extra. + </p> + <p> + Hostility is not apprehended from any great planet, but we have thought + it best to err on the safe side, and therefore have provided a proper + number of mortars, siege-guns, and boarding-pikes. History shows that + small, isolated communities, such as the people of remote islands, are + prone to be hostile to strangers, and so the same may be the case with + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE INHABITANTS OF STARS + </h3> + <p> + of the tenth or twentieth magnitude. We shall in no case wantonly offend + the people of any star, but shall treat all alike with urbanity and + kindliness, never conducting ourselves toward an asteroid after a + fashion which we could not venture to assume toward Jupiter or Saturn. I + repeat that we shall not wantonly offend any star; but at the same time + we shall promptly resent any injury that may be done us, or any + insolence offered us, by parties or governments residing in any star in + the firmament. Although averse to the shedding of blood, we shall still + hold this course rigidly and fearlessly, not only toward single stars, + but toward constellations. We shall hope to leave a good impression of + America behind us in every nation we visit, from Venus to Uranus. And, + at all events, if we cannot inspire love we shall at least compel + respect for our country wherever we go. We shall take with us, free of + charge, + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + A GREAT FORCE OF MISSIONARIES, + </h3> + <p> + and shed the true light upon all the celestial orbs which, physically + aglow, are yet morally in darkness. Sunday-schools will be established + wherever practicable. Compulsory education will also be introduced. + </p> + <p> + The comet will visit Mars first, and proceed to Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, + and Saturn. Parties connected with the government of the District of + Columbia and with the former city government of New York, who may desire + to inspect the rings, will be allowed time and every facility. Every + star of prominent magnitude will be visited, and time allowed for + excursions to points of interest inland. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE DOG STAR + </h3> + <p> + has been stricken from the program. Much time will be spent in the Great + Bear, and, indeed, in every constellation of importance. So, also, with + the Sun and Moon and the Milky Way, otherwise the Gulf Stream of the + Skies. Clothing suitable for wear in the sun should be provided. Our + program has been so arranged that we shall seldom go more than + 100,000,000 of miles at a time without stopping at some star. This will + necessarily make the stoppages frequent and preserve the interest of the + tourist. Baggage checked through to any point on the route. Parties + desiring to make only a part of the proposed tour, and thus save + expense, may stop over at any star they choose and wait for the return + voyage. + </p> + <p> + After visiting all the most celebrated stars and constellations in our + system and personally inspecting the remotest sparks that even the most + powerful telescope can now detect in the firmament, we shall proceed + with good heart upon + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + A STUPENDOUS VOYAGE + </h3> + <p> + of discovery among the countless whirling worlds that make turmoil in + the mighty wastes of space that stretch their solemn solitudes, their + unimaginable vastness billions upon billions of miles away beyond the + farthest verge of telescopic vision, till by comparison the little + sparkling vault we used to gaze at on Earth shall seem like a remembered + phosphorescent flash of spangles which some tropical voyager’s + prow stirred into life for a single instant, and which ten thousand + miles of phosphorescent seas and tedious lapse of time had since + diminished to an incident utterly trivial in his recollection. Children + occupying seats at the first table will be charged full fare. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + FIRST-CLASS FARE + </h3> + <p> + from the Earth to Uranus, including visits to the Sun and Moon and all + the principal planets on the route, will be charged at the low rate of + $2 for every 50,000,000 miles of actual travel. A great reduction will + be made where parties wish to make the round trip. This comet is new and + in thorough repair and is now on her first voyage. She is confessedly + the fastest on the line. She makes 20,000,000 miles a day, with her + present facilities; but, with a picked American crew and good weather, + we are confident we can get 40,000,000 out of her. Still, we shall never + push her to a dangerous speed, and we shall rigidly prohibit racing with + other comets. Passengers desiring to diverge at any point or return will + be transferred to other comets. We make close connections at all + principal points with all reliable lines. Safety can be depended upon. + It is not to be denied that the heavens are infested with + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + OLD RAMSHACKLE COMETS + </h3> + <p> + that have not been inspected or overhauled in 10,000 years, and which + ought long ago to have been destroyed or turned into hail-barges, but + with these we have no connection whatever. Steerage passengers not + allowed abaft the main hatch. + </p> + <p> + Complimentary round-trip tickets have been tendered to General Butler, + Mr. Shepherd, Mr. Richardson, and other eminent gentlemen, whose public + services have entitled them to the rest and relaxation of a voyage of + this kind. Parties desiring to make the round trip will have extra + accommodation. The entire voyage will be completed, and the passengers + landed in New York again, on the 14th of December, 1991. This is, at + least, forty years quicker than any other comet can do it in. Nearly all + the back-pay members contemplate making the round trip with us in case + their constituents will allow them a holiday. Every harmless amusement + will be allowed on board, but no pools permitted on the run of the comet—no + gambling of any kind. All fixed stars will be respected by us, but such + stars as seem to need fixing we shall fix. If it makes trouble, we shall + be sorry, but firm. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Coggia having leased his comet to us, she will no longer be called + by his name, but by my partner’s. N. B.—Passengers by paying + double fare will be entitled to a share in all the new stars, suns, + moons, comets, meteors, and magazines of thunder and lightning we may + discover. Patent-medicine people will take notice that + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + WE CARRY BULLETIN-BOARDS + </h3> + <p> + and a paint-brush along for use in the constellations, and are open to + terms. Cremationists are reminded that we are going straight to—some + hot places—and are open to terms. To other parties our enterprise + is a pleasure excursion, but individually we mean business. We shall fly + our comet for all it is worth. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + FOR FURTHER PARTICULARS, + </h3> + <p> + or for freight or passage, apply on board, or to my partner, but not to + me, since I do not take charge of the comet until she is under way. It + is necessary, at a time like this, that my mind should not be burdened + with small business details. + </p> + <p> + + MARK + TWAIN. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="governor" id="governor"></a>RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR + </h2> + <h3> + [Written about 1870.] + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p311.jpg (141K)" src="images/p311.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + A few months ago I was nominated for Governor of the great state of New + York, to run against Mr. John T. Smith and Mr. Blank J. Blank on an + independent ticket. I somehow felt that I had one prominent advantage over + these gentlemen, and that was—good character. It was easy to see by + the newspapers that if ever they had known what it was to bear a good + name, that time had gone by. It was plain that in these latter years they + had become familiar with all manner of shameful crimes. But at the very + moment that I was exalting my advantage and joying in it in secret, there + was a muddy undercurrent of discomfort “riling” the deeps of + my happiness, and that was—the having to hear my name bandied about + in familiar connection with those of such people. I grew more and more + disturbed. Finally I wrote my grandmother about it. Her answer came quick + and sharp. She said: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + You have never done one single thing in all your life to be ashamed of—not + one. Look at the newspapers—look at them and comprehend what sort + of characters Messrs. Smith and Blank are, and then see if you are + willing to lower yourself to their level and enter a public canvass with + them. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + It was my very thought! I did not sleep a single moment that night. But, + after all, I could not recede. + </p> + <p> + I was fully committed, and must go on with the fight. As I was looking + listlessly over the papers at breakfast I came across this paragraph, and + I may truly say I never was so confounded before. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + PERJURY.—Perhaps, now that Mr. Mark Twain is before the people as + a candidate for Governor, he will condescend to explain how he came to + be convicted of perjury by thirty-four witnesses in Wakawak, Cochin + China, in 1863, the intent of which perjury being to rob a poor native + widow and her helpless family of a meager plantain-patch, their only + stay and support in their bereavement and desolation. Mr. Twain owes it + to himself, as well as to the great people whose suffrages he asks, to + clear this matter up. Will he do it? + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I thought I should burst with amazement! Such a cruel, heartless charge! I + never had seen Cochin China! I never had heard of Wakawak! I didn’t + know a plantain-patch from a kangaroo! I did not know what to do. I was + crazed and helpless. I let the day slip away without doing anything at + all. The next morning the same paper had this—nothing more: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + SIGNIFICANT.—Mr. Twain, it will be observed, is suggestively + silent about the Cochin China perjury. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Mem.—During the rest of the campaign this paper never referred to + me in any other way than as “the infamous perjurer Twain.”] + </p> + <p> + Next came the Gazette, with this: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + WANTED TO KNOW.—Will the new candidate for Governor deign to + explain to certain of his fellow-citizens (who are suffering to vote for + him!) the little circumstance of his cabin-mates in Montana losing small + valuables from time to time, until at last, these things having been + invariably found on Mr. Twain’s person or in his “trunk” + (newspaper he rolled his traps in), they felt compelled to give him a + friendly admonition for his own good, and so tarred and feathered him, + and rode him on a rail; and then advised him to leave a permanent vacuum + in the place he usually occupied in the camp. Will he do this? + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Could anything be more deliberately malicious than that? For I never was + in Montana in my life. + </p> + <p> + [After this, this journal customarily spoke of me as, “Twain, the + Montana Thief.”] + </p> + <p> + I got to picking up papers apprehensively—much as one would lift a + desired blanket which he had some idea might have a rattlesnake under it. + One day this met my eye: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + THE LIE NAILED.—By the sworn affidavits of Michael O’Flanagan, + Esq., of the Five Points, and Mr. Snub Rafferty and Mr. Catty Mulligan, + of Water Street, it is established that Mr. Mark Twain’s vile + statement that the lamented grandfather of our noble standard-bearer, + Blank J. Blank, was hanged for highway robbery, is a brutal and + gratuitous LIE, without a shadow of foundation in fact. It is + disheartening to virtuous men to see such shameful means resorted to to + achieve political success as the attacking of the dead in their graves, + and defiling their honored names with slander. When we think of the + anguish this miserable falsehood must cause the innocent relatives and + friends of the deceased, we are almost driven to incite an outraged and + insulted public to summary and unlawful vengeance upon the traducer. But + no! let us leave him to the agony of a lacerated conscience (though if + passion should get the better of the public, and in its blind fury they + should do the traducer bodily injury, it is but too obvious that no jury + could convict and no court punish the perpetrators of the deed). + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + The ingenious closing sentence had the effect of moving me out of bed with + despatch that night, and out at the back door also, while the “outraged + and insulted public” surged in the front way, breaking furniture and + windows in their righteous indignation as they came, and taking off such + property as they could carry when they went. And yet I can lay my hand + upon the Book and say that I never slandered Mr. Blank’s + grandfather. More: I had never even heard of him or mentioned him up to + that day and date. + </p> + <p> + [I will state, in passing, that the journal above quoted from always + referred to me afterward as “Twain, the Body-Snatcher.”] + </p> + <p> + The next newspaper article that attracted my attention was the following: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + A SWEET CANDIDATE.—Mr. Mark Twain, who was to make such a + blighting speech at the mass-meeting of the Independents last night, + didn’t come to time! A telegram from his physician stated that he + had been knocked down by a runaway team, and his leg broken in two + places—sufferer lying in great agony, and so forth, and so forth, + and a lot more bosh of the same sort. And the Independents tried hard to + swallow the wretched subterfuge, and pretend that they did not know what + was the real reason of the absence of the abandoned creature whom they + denominate their standard-bearer. A certain man was seen to reel into + Mr. Twain’s hotel last night in a state of beastly intoxication. + It is the imperative duty of the Independents to prove that this + besotted brute was not Mark Twain himself. We have them at last! This is + a case that admits of no shirking. The voice of the people demands in + thunder tones, “WHO WAS THAT MAN?” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + It was incredible, absolutely incredible, for a moment, that it was really + my name that was coupled with this disgraceful suspicion. Three long years + had passed over my head since I had tasted ale, beer, wine or liquor of + any kind. + </p> + <p> + [It shows what effect the times were having on me when I say that I saw + myself, confidently dubbed “Mr. Delirium Tremens Twain” in the + next issue of that journal without a pang—notwithstanding I knew + that with monotonous fidelity the paper would go on calling me so to the + very end.] + </p> + <p> + By this time anonymous letters were getting to be an important part of my + mail matter. This form was common: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + How about that old woman you kiked of your premises which was beging.<br /> + POL. PRY. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + And this: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + There is things which you have done which is unbeknowens to anybody but + me. You better trot out a few dots, to yours truly, or you’ll hear + through the papers from<br /> HANDY ANDY. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + This is about the idea. I could continue them till the reader was + surfeited, if desirable. + </p> + <p> + Shortly the principal Republican journal “convicted” me of + wholesale bribery, and the leading Democratic paper “nailed” + an aggravated case of blackmailing to me. + </p> + <p> + [In this way I acquired two additional names: “Twain the Filthy + Corruptionist” and “Twain the Loathsome Embracer.”] + </p> + <p> + By this time there had grown to be such a clamor for an “answer” + to all the dreadful charges that were laid to me that the editors and + leaders of my party said it would be political ruin for me to remain + silent any longer. As if to make their appeal the more imperative, the + following appeared in one of the papers the very next day: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + BEHOLD THE MAN!—The independent candidate still maintains silence. + Because he dare not speak. Every accusation against him has been amply + proved, and they have been indorsed and reindorsed by his own eloquent + silence, till at this day he stands forever convicted. Look upon your + candidate, Independents! Look upon the Infamous Perjurer! the Montana + Thief! the Body-Snatcher! Contemplate your incarnate Delirium Tremens! + your Filthy Corruptionist! your Loathsome Embracer! Gaze upon him—ponder + him well—and then say if you can give your honest votes to a + creature who has earned this dismal array of titles by his hideous + crimes, and dares not open his mouth in denial of any one of them! + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + There was no possible way of getting out of it, and so, in deep + humiliation, I set about preparing to “answer” a mass of + baseless charges and mean and wicked falsehoods. But I never finished the + task, for the very next morning a paper came out with a new horror, a + fresh malignity, and seriously charged me with burning a lunatic asylum + with all its inmates, because it obstructed the view from my house. This + threw me into a sort of panic. Then came the charge of poisoning my uncle + to get his property, with an imperative demand that the grave should be + opened. This drove me to the verge of distraction. On top of this I was + accused of employing toothless and incompetent old relatives to prepare + the food for the foundling hospital when I warden. I was wavering—wavering. + And at last, as a due and fitting climax to the shameless persecution that + party rancor had inflicted upon me, nine little toddling children, of all + shades of color and degrees of raggedness, were taught to rush onto the + platform at a public meeting, and clasp me around the legs and call me PA! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p315.jpg (58K)" src="images/p315.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + I gave it up. I hauled down my colors and surrendered. I was not equal to + the requirements of a Gubernatorial campaign in the state of New York, and + so I sent in my withdrawal from the candidacy, and in bitterness of spirit + signed it, “Truly yours, once a decent man, but now + </p> + <p> + + "MARK TWAIN, LLP., M.T., B.S., D.T., + F.C., and L.E.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <a name="mysterious" id="mysterious"></a>A MYSTERIOUS VISIT + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img alt="p316.jpg (90K)" src="images/p316.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The first notice that was taken of me when I “settled down” + recently was by a gentleman who said he was an assessor, and connected + with the U. S. Internal Revenue Department. I said I had never heard of + his branch of business before, but I was very glad to see him all the + same. Would he sit down? He sat down. I did not know anything particular + to say, and yet I felt that people who have arrived at the dignity of + keeping house must be conversational, must be easy and sociable in + company. So, in default of anything else to say, I asked him if he was + opening his shop in our neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + He said he was. [I did not wish to appear ignorant, but I had hoped he + would mention what he had for sale.] + </p> + <p> + I ventured to ask him “How was trade?” And he said “So-so.” + </p> + <p> + I then said we would drop in, and if we liked his house as well as any + other, we would give him our custom. + </p> + <p> + He said he thought we would like his establishment well enough to confine + ourselves to it—said he never saw anybody who would go off and hunt + up another man in his line after trading with him once. + </p> + <p> + That sounded pretty complacent, but barring that natural expression of + villainy which we all have, the man looked honest enough. + </p> + <p> + I do not know how it came about exactly, but gradually we appeared to melt + down and run together, conversationally speaking, and then everything went + along as comfortably as clockwork. + </p> + <p> + We talked, and talked, and talked—at least I did; and we laughed, + and laughed, and laughed—at least he did. But all the time I had my + presence of mind about me—I had my native shrewdness turned on + “full head,” as the engineers say. I was determined to find + out all about his business in spite of his obscure answers—and I was + determined I would have it out of him without his suspecting what I was + at. I meant to trap him with a deep, deep ruse. I would tell him all about + my own business, and he would naturally so warm to me during this + seductive burst of confidence that he would forget himself, and tell me + all about his affairs before he suspected what I was about. I thought to + myself, My son, you little know what an old fox you are dealing with. I + said: + </p> + <p> + “Now you never would guess what I made lecturing this winter and + last spring?” + </p> + <p> + “No—don’t believe I could, to save me. Let me see—let + me see. About two thousand dollars, maybe? But no; no, sir, I know you + couldn’t have made that much. Say seventeen hundred, maybe?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! I knew you couldn’t. My lecturing receipts for last + spring and this winter were fourteen thousand seven hundred and fifty + dollars. What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is amazing-perfectly amazing. I will make a note of it. And + you say even this wasn’t all?” + </p> + <p> + “All! Why bless you, there was my income from the Daily Warwhoop for + four months—about—about—well, what should you say to + about eight thousand dollars, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + “Say! Why, I should say I should like to see myself rolling in just + such another ocean of affluence. Eight thousand! I’ll make a note of + it. Why man!—and on top of all this am I to understand that you had + still more income?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ha! Why, you’re only in the suburbs of it, so to + speak. There’s my book, The Innocents Abroad—price $3.50 to + $5, according to the binding. Listen to me. Look me in the eye. During the + last four months and a half, saying nothing of sales before that, but just + simply during the four months and a half, we’ve sold ninety-five + thousand copies of that book. Ninety-five thousand! Think of it. Average + four dollars a copy, say. It’s nearly four hundred thousand dollars, + my son. I get half.” + </p> + <p> + “The suffering Moses! I’ll set that down. Fourteen-seven—fifty-eight—two + hundred. Total, say—well, upon my word, the grand total is about two + hundred and thirteen or fourteen thousand dollars! Is that possible?” + </p> + <p> + “Possible! If there’s any mistake it’s the other way. + Two hundred and fourteen thousand, cash, is my income for this year if I + know how to cipher.” + </p> + <p> + Then the gentleman got up to go. It came over me most uncomfortably that + maybe I had made my revelations for nothing, besides being flattered into + stretching them considerably by the stranger’s astonished + exclamations. But no; at the last moment the gentleman handed me a large + envelope, and said it contained his advertisement; and that I would find + out all about his business in it; and that he would be happy to have my + custom—would, in fact, be proud to have the custom of a man of such + prodigious income; and that he used to think there were several wealthy + men in the city, but when they came to trade with him he discovered that + they barely had enough to live on; and that, in truth, it had been such a + weary, weary age since he had seen a rich man face to face, and talked to + him, and touched him with his hands, that he could hardly refrain from + embracing me—in fact, would esteem it a great favor if I would let + him embrace me. + </p> + <p> + This so pleased me that I did not try to resist, but allowed this + simple-hearted stranger to throw his arms about me and weep a few + tranquilizing tears down the back of my neck. Then he went his way. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was gone I opened his advertisement. I studied it + attentively for four minutes. I then called up the cook, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Hold me while I faint! Let Marie turn the griddle-cakes.” + </p> + <p> + By and by, when I came to, I sent down to the rum-mill on the corner and + hired an artist by the week to sit up nights and curse that stranger, and + give me a lift occasionally in the daytime when I came to a hard place. + </p> + <p> + Ah, what a miscreant he was! His “advertisement” was nothing + in the world but a wicked tax-return—a string of impertinent + questions about my private affairs, occupying the best part of four + fools-cap pages of fine print—questions, I may remark, gotten up + with such marvelous ingenuity that the oldest man in the world couldn’t + understand what the most of them were driving at—questions, too, + that were calculated to make a man report about four times his actual + income to keep from swearing to a falsehood. I looked for a loophole, but + there did not appear to be any. Inquiry No. 1 covered my case as + generously and as amply as an umbrella could cover an ant-hill: + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + What were your profits, during the past year, from any trade, business, + or vocation, wherever carried on? + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + And that inquiry was backed up by thirteen others of an equally searching + nature, the most modest of which required information as to whether I had + committed any burglary or highway robbery, or by any arson or other secret + source of emolument had acquired property which was not enumerated in my + statement of income as set opposite to inquiry No. 1. + </p> + <p> + It was plain that that stranger had enabled me to make a goose of myself. + It was very, very plain; and so I went out and hired another artist. By + working on my vanity, the stranger had seduced me into declaring an income + of two hundred and fourteen thousand dollars. By law, one thousand dollars + of this was exempt from income tax—the only relief I could see, and + it was only a drop in the ocean. At the legal five per cent., I must pay + to the government the sum of ten thousand six hundred and fifty dollars, + income tax! + </p> + <p> + [I may remark, in this place, that I did not do it.] + </p> + <p> + I am acquainted with a very opulent man, whose house is a palace, whose + table is regal, whose outlays are enormous, yet a man who has no income, + as I have often noticed by the revenue returns; and to him I went for + advice in my distress. He took my dreadful exhibition of receipts, he put + on his glasses, he took his pen, and presto!—I was a pauper! It was + the neatest thing that ever was. He did it simply by deftly manipulating + the bill of “DEDUCTIONS.” He set down my “State, + national, and municipal taxes” at so much; my “losses by + shipwreck; fire, etc.,” at so much; my “losses on sales of + real estate”—on “live stock sold”—on “payments + for rent of homestead”—on “repairs, improvements, + interest”—on “previously taxed salary as an officer of + the United States army, navy, revenue service,” and other things. He + got astonishing “deductions” out of each and every one of + these matters—each and every one of them. And when he was done he + handed me the paper, and I saw at a glance that during the year my income, + in the way of profits, had been one thousand two hundred and fifty dollars + and forty cents. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, “the thousand dollars is exempt by law. + What you want to do is to go and swear this document in and pay tax on the + two hundred and fifty dollars.” + </p> + <p> + [While he was making this speech his little boy Willie lifted a two-dollar + greenback out of his vest pocket and vanished with it, and I would wager + anything that if my stranger were to call on that little boy to-morrow he + would make a false return of his income.] + </p> + <p> + “Do you,” said I, “do you always work up the ‘deductions’ + after this fashion in your own case, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should say so! If it weren’t for those eleven saving + clauses under the head of ‘Deductions’ I should be beggared + every year to support this hateful and wicked, this extortionate and + tyrannical government.” + </p> + <p> + This gentleman stands away up among the very best of the solid men of the + city—the men of moral weight, of commercial integrity, of + unimpeachable social spotlessness—and so I bowed to his example. I + went down to the revenue office, and under the accusing eyes of my old + visitor I stood up and swore to lie after lie, fraud after fraud, villainy + after villainy, till my soul was coated inches and inches thick with + perjury, and my self-respect gone for ever and ever. + </p> + <p> + But what of it? It is nothing more than thousands of the richest and + proudest, and most respected, honored, and courted men in America do every + year. And so I don’t care. I am not ashamed. I shall simply, for the + present, talk little and eschew fire-proof gloves, lest I fall into + certain dreadful habits irrevocably. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sketches New and Old, Complete +by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 3189-h.htm or 3189-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/8/3189/ + +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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