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diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/3189-h.htm b/old/orig3189-h/3189-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b0e668e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/3189-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,628 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Complete</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"> + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + + +</head> +<body> + +<h2><a href="#contents">SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Complete</a></h2> + +<pre> + +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.net + + +Title: Sketches New and Old, Complete + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 20, 2006 [EBook #3189] +Last Updated: December 31, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, COMPLETE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<a name="contents"></a> +<br> + + <h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big><b> Part 1.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big><b> Part 2.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big><b> Part 3.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big><b> Part 4.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p5.htm"><big><b> Part 5.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p6.htm"><big><b> Part 6.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p7.htm"><big><b> Part 7.</b></big></a> </td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h2>LIST OF STORIES</h2> + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<h3>1</h3> +<a href="#preface">PREFACE</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#watch">MY WATCH</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#political">POLITICAL ECONOMY</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#frog">THE JUMPING FROG</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#journalism">JOURNALISM IN TENNESSEE</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#badboy">THE STORY OF THE BAD LITTLE BOY</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#goodboy">THE STORY OF THE GOOD LITTLE BOY</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#poems">A COUPLE OF POEMS BY TWAIN AND MOORE</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#niagara">NIAGARA</a><br> +<h3>2</h3> +<a href="p2.htm#answers">ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#poultry">TO RAISE POULTRY</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#croup">EXPERIENCE OF THE MCWILLIAMSES WITH MEMBRANOUS CROUP</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#venture">MY FIRST LITERARY VENTURE</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#newark">HOW THE AUTHOR WAS SOLD IN NEWARK</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#bore">THE OFFICE BORE</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#greer">JOHNNY GREER</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#beef">THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF THE GREAT BEEF CONTRACT</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#fisher">THE CASE OF GEORGE FISHER</a><br> +<h3>3</h3> +<a href="p3.htm#persecution">DISGRACEFUL PERSECUTION OF A BOY</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#spirited">THE JUDGES "SPIRITED WOMAN"</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#information">INFORMATION WANTED</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#oldboys">SOME LEARNED FABLES, FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#senatorial">MY LATE SENATORIAL SECRETARYSHIP</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#fashion">A FASHION ITEM</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#riley">RILEY-NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENT</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#oldman">A FINE OLD MAN</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#science">SCIENCE vs. LUCK</a><br> +<h3>4</h3> +<a href="p4.htm#franklin">THE LATE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#bloke">MR. BLOKE'S ITEM</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#medieval">A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#petition">PETITION CONCERNING COPYRIGHT</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#afterdinner">AFTER-DINNER SPEECH</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#murderers">LIONIZING MURDERERS</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#newcrime">A NEW CRIME</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#dream">A CURIOUS DREAM</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#truestory">A TRUE STORY</a><br> +<h3>5</h3> +<a href="p5.htm#twins">THE SIAMESE TWINS</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#scottish">SPEECH AT THE SCOTTISH BANQUET IN LONDON</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#ghost">A GHOST STORY</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#venus">THE CAPITOLINE VENUS</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#insurance">SPEECH ON ACCIDENT INSURANCE</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#chinaman">JOHN CHINAMAN IN NEW YORK</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#agricultural">HOW I EDITED AN AGRICULTURAL PAPER</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#petrified">THE PETRIFIED MAN</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#massacre">MY BLOODY MASSACRE</a><br> +<h3>6</h3> +<a href="p6.htm#undertaker">THE UNDERTAKER'S CHAT</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#chambermaids">CONCERNING CHAMBERMAIDS</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#aurelia">AURELIA'S UNFORTUNATE YOUNG MAN</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#jenkins">"AFTER" JENKINS</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#barbers">ABOUT BARBERS</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#ireland">"PARTY CRIES" IN IRELAND</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#resignation">THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT RESIGNATION</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#history">HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#curiosity">HONORED AS A CURIOSITY</a><br> +<h3>7</h3> +<a href="p7.htm#ward">FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#cannibalism">CANNIBALISM IN THE CARS</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#caesar">THE KILLING OF JULIUS CAESAR "LOCALIZED"</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#widow">THE WIDOW'S PROTEST</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#panoramist">THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#cold">CURING A COLD</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#excursion">A CURIOUS PLEASURE EXCURSION</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#governor">RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#mysterious">A MYSTERIOUS VISIT</a><br> +<br> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Complete</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + + + +<a name="preface"></a> +<br><br> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p>I have scattered through this volume a mass of matter which has never +been in print before (such as "Learned Fables for Good Old Boys and +Girls," the "Jumping Frog restored to the English tongue after martyrdom +in the French," the "Membranous Croup" sketch, and many others which I +need not specify): not doing this in order to make an advertisement of +it, but because these things seemed instructive.</p> + +<p>HARTFORD, 1875.</p> + <p>MARK TWAIN.</p> + +<br><br> + + <h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big><b> Part 1.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big><b> Part 2.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big><b> Part 3.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big><b> Part 4.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p5.htm"><big><b> Part 5.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p6.htm"><big><b> Part 6.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p7.htm"><big><b> Part 7.</b></big></a> </td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +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: + http://www.gutenberg.net/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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margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + + +</head> +<body> + +<h2><a href="#contents">SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Complete</a></h2> + +<pre> + +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.net + + +Title: Sketches New and Old, Complete + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 20, 2006 [EBook #3189] +Last Updated: December 31, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, COMPLETE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<a name="contents"></a> +<br> + + <h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big><b> Part 1.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big><b> Part 2.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big><b> Part 3.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big><b> Part 4.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p5.htm"><big><b> Part 5.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p6.htm"><big><b> Part 6.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p7.htm"><big><b> Part 7.</b></big></a> </td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h2>LIST OF STORIES</h2> + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<h3>1</h3> +<a href="#preface">PREFACE</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#watch">MY WATCH</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#political">POLITICAL ECONOMY</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#frog">THE JUMPING FROG</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#journalism">JOURNALISM IN TENNESSEE</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#badboy">THE STORY OF THE BAD LITTLE BOY</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#goodboy">THE STORY OF THE GOOD LITTLE BOY</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#poems">A COUPLE OF POEMS BY TWAIN AND MOORE</a><br> +<a href="p1.htm#niagara">NIAGARA</a><br> +<h3>2</h3> +<a href="p2.htm#answers">ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#poultry">TO RAISE POULTRY</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#croup">EXPERIENCE OF THE MCWILLIAMSES WITH MEMBRANOUS CROUP</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#venture">MY FIRST LITERARY VENTURE</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#newark">HOW THE AUTHOR WAS SOLD IN NEWARK</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#bore">THE OFFICE BORE</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#greer">JOHNNY GREER</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#beef">THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF THE GREAT BEEF CONTRACT</a><br> +<a href="p2.htm#fisher">THE CASE OF GEORGE FISHER</a><br> +<h3>3</h3> +<a href="p3.htm#persecution">DISGRACEFUL PERSECUTION OF A BOY</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#spirited">THE JUDGES "SPIRITED WOMAN"</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#information">INFORMATION WANTED</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#oldboys">SOME LEARNED FABLES, FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#senatorial">MY LATE SENATORIAL SECRETARYSHIP</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#fashion">A FASHION ITEM</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#riley">RILEY-NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENT</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#oldman">A FINE OLD MAN</a><br> +<a href="p3.htm#science">SCIENCE vs. LUCK</a><br> +<h3>4</h3> +<a href="p4.htm#franklin">THE LATE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#bloke">MR. BLOKE'S ITEM</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#medieval">A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#petition">PETITION CONCERNING COPYRIGHT</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#afterdinner">AFTER-DINNER SPEECH</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#murderers">LIONIZING MURDERERS</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#newcrime">A NEW CRIME</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#dream">A CURIOUS DREAM</a><br> +<a href="p4.htm#truestory">A TRUE STORY</a><br> +<h3>5</h3> +<a href="p5.htm#twins">THE SIAMESE TWINS</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#scottish">SPEECH AT THE SCOTTISH BANQUET IN LONDON</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#ghost">A GHOST STORY</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#venus">THE CAPITOLINE VENUS</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#insurance">SPEECH ON ACCIDENT INSURANCE</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#chinaman">JOHN CHINAMAN IN NEW YORK</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#agricultural">HOW I EDITED AN AGRICULTURAL PAPER</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#petrified">THE PETRIFIED MAN</a><br> +<a href="p5.htm#massacre">MY BLOODY MASSACRE</a><br> +<h3>6</h3> +<a href="p6.htm#undertaker">THE UNDERTAKER'S CHAT</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#chambermaids">CONCERNING CHAMBERMAIDS</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#aurelia">AURELIA'S UNFORTUNATE YOUNG MAN</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#jenkins">"AFTER" JENKINS</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#barbers">ABOUT BARBERS</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#ireland">"PARTY CRIES" IN IRELAND</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#resignation">THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT RESIGNATION</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#history">HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF</a><br> +<a href="p6.htm#curiosity">HONORED AS A CURIOSITY</a><br> +<h3>7</h3> +<a href="p7.htm#ward">FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#cannibalism">CANNIBALISM IN THE CARS</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#caesar">THE KILLING OF JULIUS CAESAR "LOCALIZED"</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#widow">THE WIDOW'S PROTEST</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#panoramist">THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#cold">CURING A COLD</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#excursion">A CURIOUS PLEASURE EXCURSION</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#governor">RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR</a><br> +<a href="p7.htm#mysterious">A MYSTERIOUS VISIT</a><br> +<br> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Complete</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + + + +<a name="preface"></a> +<br><br> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p>I have scattered through this volume a mass of matter which has never +been in print before (such as "Learned Fables for Good Old Boys and +Girls," the "Jumping Frog restored to the English tongue after martyrdom +in the French," the "Membranous Croup" sketch, and many others which I +need not specify): not doing this in order to make an advertisement of +it, but because these things seemed instructive.</p> + +<p>HARTFORD, 1875.</p> + <p>MARK TWAIN.</p> + +<br><br> + + <h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big><b> Part 1.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big><b> Part 2.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big><b> Part 3.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big><b> Part 4.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p5.htm"><big><b> Part 5.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p6.htm"><big><b> Part 6.</b></big></a> </td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="p7.htm"><big><b> Part 7.</b></big></a> </td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +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: + http://www.gutenberg.net/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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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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p018.jpg (23K)" src="images/p018.jpg" height="429" width="341"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p019.jpg (28K)" src="images/p019.jpg" height="441" width="347"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="political">POLITICAL ECONOMY</a></h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p021.jpg (104K)" src="images/p021.jpg" height="881" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<br> Political Economy is the basis of all good government. The wisest + men of all ages have brought to bear upon this subject the— +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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— +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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— +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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: +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> +<br> Fiat justitia, ruat coelum, +<br> Post mortem unum, ante bellum, +<br> Hic jacet hoc, ex-parte res, +<br> Politicum e-conomico est. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<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— +</blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p026.jpg (86K)" src="images/p026.jpg" height="524" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="frog"></a>THE JUMPING FROG</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> +<img alt="p028.jpg (125K)" src="images/p028.jpg" height="867" width="650"> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>IN ENGLISH. THEN IN FRENCH. THEN CLAWED BACK INTO A CIVILIZED LANGUAGE +ONCE MORE BY PATIENT, UNREMUNERATED TOIL.</h3></center> +<br> + + +<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> + + + +<br><br> +<center><h3>THE NOTORIOUS JUMPING FROG OF CALAVERAS COUNTY<br> [Pronounced Cal-e-va-ras]</h3> +</center> +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p030.jpg (44K)" src="images/p030.jpg" height="483" width="385"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p031.jpg (27K)" src="images/p031.jpg" height="433" width="355"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p033.jpg (37K)" src="images/p033.jpg" height="573" width="591"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p035.jpg (39K)" src="images/p035.jpg" height="487" width="385"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br> +<p> +Now let the learned look upon this picture and say if iconoclasm can +further go:</p> + +<center><p>[From the Revue des Deux Mondes, of July 15th, 1872.]</p> +<br> + ....................... +<br> +<h3>THE JUMPING FROG</h3></center> + +<blockquote><blockquote> + +<p> +[From the Revue des Deux Mondes, of July 15th, 1872.] +</p> +<pre> + ....................... + +</pre> +<center> +LA GRENOUILLE SAUTEUSE DU COMTE DE CALAVERAS +</center> +<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> +<center> +THE FROG JUMPING OF THE COUNTY OF CALAVERAS +</center> +<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> + + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="journalism"></a>JOURNALISM IN TENNESSEE</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1871]</h3></center> +<br> +<center><img alt="p044.jpg (134K)" src="images/p044.jpg" height="868" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> +<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. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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> +<br><br> + <center><h3>SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS</h3></center> + +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> +<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. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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> +<br><br> + + <center><h3>SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS</h3></center> +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> +<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. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p049.jpg (68K)" src="images/p049.jpg" height="527" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p050.jpg (64K)" src="images/p050.jpg" height="406" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="badboy"></a>THE STORY OF THE BAD LITTLE BOY</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p051.jpg (111K)" src="images/p051.jpg" height="872" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p052.jpg (27K)" src="images/p052.jpg" height="434" width="349"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p054.jpg (27K)" src="images/p054.jpg" height="429" width="343"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p055.jpg (25K)" src="images/p055.jpg" height="421" width="339"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="goodboy"></a>THE STORY OF THE GOOD LITTLE BOY</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[Written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p056.jpg (100K)" src="images/p056.jpg" height="880" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p058.jpg (34K)" src="images/p058.jpg" height="439" width="341"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p060.jpg (27K)" src="images/p060.jpg" height="441" width="350"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="poems"></a>A COUPLE OF POEMS BY TWAIN AND MOORE</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> +<br> +<center><h3>THOSE EVENING BELLS</h3></center> +<br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + <center><p>BY THOMAS MOORE</p></center> + + +<br> + 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> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + <center><h3> THOSE ANNUAL BILLS</h3><br> +<br> +<p> BY MARK TWAIN</p></center><br> +<br> +<br> + 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> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="niagara"></a>NIAGARA</h2></center> + +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1871]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p063.jpg (103K)" src="images/p063.jpg" height="898" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p065.jpg (48K)" src="images/p065.jpg" height="356" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p066.jpg (48K)" src="images/p066.jpg" height="887" width="279"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p068.jpg (49K)" src="images/p068.jpg" height="585" width="511"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p069.jpg (27K)" src="images/p069.jpg" height="428" width="339"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p071.jpg (40K)" src="images/p071.jpg" height="435" width="349"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + + +<br><br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p2.htm">Next Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/p2.htm b/old/orig3189-h/p2.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fba965f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/p2.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1842 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Part 2.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + + +</head> +<body> + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p1.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Part 2.</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +<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> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="answers"></a>ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS</h2></center> + +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p072.jpg (117K)" src="images/p072.jpg" height="861" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> +<br> +<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> +<br> +<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><blockquote> +<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. +</blockquote></blockquote> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + <br> + 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> + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<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> + + + <center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + 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> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<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> +<br> +<p> +"PROFESSIONAL BEGGAR."—NO; you are not obliged to take greenbacks at +par.</p> +<br> +<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><blockquote> +<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.** +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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?" +</blockquote></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> +<br> +<blockquote><blockquote> +<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?" + +</blockquote></blockquote> +<p>I don't know.</p> +<br> +<p> +"AMBITIOUS LEARNER," Oakland.—Yes; you are right America was not +discovered by Alexander Selkirk.</p> +<br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<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?" + +</blockquote></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> +<br> +<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> +<br> +<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> +<br> +<blockquote><blockquote> +<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?" + +</blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="poultry"></a>TO RAISE POULTRY</h2> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p081.jpg (131K)" src="images/p081.jpg" height="926" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<h3>[Being a letter written to a Poultry Society that had conferred a +complimentary membership upon the author. Written about 1870.]</h3></center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p082.jpg (56K)" src="images/p082.jpg" height="891" width="365"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p084.jpg (27K)" src="images/p084.jpg" height="479" width="339"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="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> +</center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p085.jpg (129K)" src="images/p085.jpg" height="881" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p087.jpg (43K)" src="images/p087.jpg" height="497" width="401"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p090.jpg (45K)" src="images/p090.jpg" height="495" width="399"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p091.jpg (41K)" src="images/p091.jpg" height="481" width="379"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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><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></blockquote> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="venture"></a>MY FIRST LITERARY VENTURE</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><h3>[written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p094.jpg (64K)" src="images/p094.jpg" height="897" width="359"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="newark"></a>HOW THE AUTHOR WAS SOLD IN NEWARK</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1869]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p096.jpg (103K)" src="images/p096.jpg" height="892" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="bore"></a>THE OFFICE BORE</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1869]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p098.jpg (140K)" src="images/p098.jpg" height="896" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="greer"></a>JOHNNY GREER +</h2></center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="beef"></a>THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF THE GREAT BEEF CONTRACT</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1867]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p101.jpg (106K)" src="images/p101.jpg" height="886" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p102.jpg (36K)" src="images/p102.jpg" height="431" width="333"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> +<center> +<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> +</center> + + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p103.jpg (35K)" src="images/p103.jpg" height="431" width="337"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="fisher"></a>THE CASE OF GEORGE FISHER +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p109.jpg (114K)" src="images/p109.jpg" height="889" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<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.] +</blockquote></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&mdsh;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> + + +<center> +<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> +</center> +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p113.jpg (60K)" src="images/p113.jpg" height="471" width="589"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br> +<h3> The United States in account with the <br>legal representatives + of George Fisher, deceased.</h3> + +<center> +<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> +</center> +<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> + + + + +<br><br> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p1.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/p3.htm b/old/orig3189-h/p3.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b7f2f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/p3.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1802 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Part 3.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + + +</head> +<body> + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Part 3.</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +<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> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="persecution"></a>DISGRACEFUL PERSECUTION OF A BOY +</h2></center> +<br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="spirited"></a>THE JUDGE'S "SPIRITED WOMAN" +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p121.jpg (64K)" src="images/p121.jpg" height="399" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="information"></a>INFORMATION WANTED +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p123.jpg (136K)" src="images/p123.jpg" height="873" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="oldboys"></a>SOME LEARNED FABLES, +<br>FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS +<br>IN THREE PARTS +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p126.jpg (111K)" src="images/p126.jpg" height="860" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>PART FIRST +<br> +<br>HOW THE ANIMALS OF THE WOOD SENT OUT A SCIENTIFIC EXPEDITION</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p129.jpg (36K)" src="images/p129.jpg" height="489" width="389"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p133.jpg (37K)" src="images/p133.jpg" height="487" width="391"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p135.jpg (29K)" src="images/p135.jpg" height="489" width="405"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br> + +<center><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> +</center> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p139.jpg (40K)" src="images/p139.jpg" height="485" width="397"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<center> +<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> +</center> + + + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p140.jpg (26K)" src="images/p140.jpg" height="227" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<center><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></center> + + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p142.jpg (40K)" src="images/p142.jpg" height="503" width="395"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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><blockquote> +<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.' +</blockquote></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> +<br><br><br> + + + +<center><h3>SOME LEARNED FABLES FOR GOOD OLD BOYS AND GIRLS +</h3></center> + +<br> + +<center><img alt="p144.jpg (37K)" src="images/p144.jpg" height="609" width="579"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h3>PART THIRD</h3></center> + +<p>Near the margin of the great river the scientists presently found a huge, +shapely stone, with this inscription:</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<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!" +</blockquote></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><blockquote><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." +</blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p147.jpg (40K)" src="images/p147.jpg" height="489" width="389"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="senatorial"></a>MY LATE SENATORIAL SECRETARYSHIP</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1867]</h3></center> +<br> + +<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><blockquote> +<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.' +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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.' +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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> +</blockquote></blockquote> + <center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br> "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." + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> +<blockquote><blockquote> + +<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.' +</blockquote></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><blockquote> +<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.' +</blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="fashion"></a>A FASHION ITEM</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1867]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p153.jpg (136K)" src="images/p153.jpg" height="873" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="riley"></a>RILEY—NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENT +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p154.jpg (100K)" src="images/p154.jpg" height="917" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="oldman"></a>A FINE OLD MAN +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p158.jpg (97K)" src="images/p158.jpg" height="841" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="science"></a>SCIENCE V.S. LUCK</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1867]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p159.jpg (54K)" src="images/p159.jpg" height="389" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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><blockquote> +<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. +</blockquote></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> + + + +<br><br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/p4.htm b/old/orig3189-h/p4.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..996be3e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/p4.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1741 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Part 4</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Part 4.</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<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> + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="franklin"></a>THE LATE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1870]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p275.jpg (93K)" src="images/p275.jpg" height="893" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p276.jpg (29K)" src="images/p276.jpg" height="445" width="355"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<br> Early to bed and early to rise +<br> Makes a man healthy and wealthy and wise. + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p278.jpg (24K)" src="images/p278.jpg" height="429" width="341"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p279.jpg (85K)" src="images/p279.jpg" height="880" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="p280.jpg (95K)" src="images/p280.jpg" height="837" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="p281.jpg (69K)" src="images/p281.jpg" height="965" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="p282.jpg (82K)" src="images/p282.jpg" height="799" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="bloke"></a>MR. BLOKE'S ITEM</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>[written about 1865]</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p167.jpg (130K)" src="images/p167.jpg" height="890" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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><blockquote> +<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.' +</blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p169.jpg (60K)" src="images/p169.jpg" height="557" width="561"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="medieval"></a>A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE [written about 1868] +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p171.jpg (95K)" src="images/p171.jpg" height="856" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>CHAPTER I. +<br><br> +THE SECRET REVEALED.</h3></center> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER II. +<br><br> +FESTIVITY AND TEARS</h3></center> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER III. +<br><br> +THE PLOT THICKENS</h3></center> + + +<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> + +<br><br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER IV. +<br><br> +THE AWFUL REVELATION</h3></center> + + +<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> + + +<br><br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER V. +<br><br> +THE FRIGHTFUL CATASTROPHE</h3></center> + + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p178.jpg (128K)" src="images/p178.jpg" height="576" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="petition"></a>PETITION CONCERNING COPYRIGHT +</h2></center> +<center><h3>TO THE HONORABLE THE SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES +IN CONGRESS ASSEMBLED +</h3></center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br> +<center><h3>A PARAGRAPH NOT ADDED TO THE PETITION</h3> +</center> + +<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> + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="afterdinner"></a>AFTER-DINNER SPEECH +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[AT A FOURTH OF JULY GATHERING, IN LONDON, OF AMERICANS] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="murderers"></a>LIONIZING MURDERERS +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p182.jpg (135K)" src="images/p182.jpg" height="880" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p185.jpg (65K)" src="images/p185.jpg" height="438" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="newcrime"></a>A NEW CRIME +</h2></center> +<center><h3>LEGISLATION NEEDED +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p187.jpg (139K)" src="images/p187.jpg" height="856" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="dream"></a>A CURIOUS DREAM [Written about 1870.] +</h2></center> +<center><h3>CONTAINING A MORAL +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p192.jpg (99K)" src="images/p192.jpg" height="638" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p195.jpg (45K)" src="images/p195.jpg" height="266" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p197.jpg (25K)" src="images/p197.jpg" height="503" width="382"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<center> <h3>'GONE TO HIS JUST REWARD'</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p201.jpg (23K)" src="images/p201.jpg" height="321" width="587"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="truestory"></a>A TRUE STORY +</h2></center> +<center><h3>REPEATED WORD FOR WORD AS I HEARD IT—[Written about 1876] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p202.jpg (118K)" src="images/p202.jpg" height="908" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p206.jpg (32K)" src="images/p206.jpg" height="427" width="337"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p207.jpg (12K)" src="images/p207.jpg" height="393" width="361"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<br><br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> + +</table> +</center> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/p5.htm b/old/orig3189-h/p5.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..307568c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/p5.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1492 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Part 5.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p6.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Part 5.</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +<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> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="twins"></a>THE SIAMESE TWINS +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1868.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p208.jpg (88K)" src="images/p208.jpg" height="602" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p212.jpg (13K)" src="images/p212.jpg" height="321" width="291"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="scottish"></a>SPEECH AT THE SCOTTISH BANQUET IN LONDON +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1872.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="ghost"></a>A GHOST STORY +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p215.jpg (117K)" src="images/p215.jpg" height="881" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p219.jpg (32K)" src="images/p219.jpg" height="435" width="345"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="venus"></a>THE CAPITOLINE VENUS +</h2></center> + +<br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER I. +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p222.jpg (121K)" src="images/p222.jpg" height="887" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> +</center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> +</center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p224.jpg (40K)" src="images/p224.jpg" height="445" width="495"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> +</center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> +</center> +<br> + +<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><blockquote> +<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! +</blockquote></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> + +<br><br> +<center><h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> +</center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p227.jpg (72K)" src="images/p227.jpg" height="482" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> +<br> +<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><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></blockquote> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="insurance"></a>SPEECH ON ACCIDENT INSURANCE +</h2></center> +<center><h3>DELIVERED IN HARTFORD, AT A DINNER TO CORNELIUS WALFORD, OF LONDON +</h3></center> +<br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="chinaman"></a>JOHN CHINAMAN IN NEW YORK +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p231.jpg (145K)" src="images/p231.jpg" height="895" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="agricultural"></a>HOW I EDITED AN AGRICULTURAL PAPER +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1870.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p233.jpg (115K)" src="images/p233.jpg" height="637" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + "'Turnips should never be pulled, it injures them. It is much + better to send a boy up and let him shake the tree.' +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><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> 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>Now, as the warm weather approaches, and the ganders begin to + spawn— +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p236.jpg (73K)" src="images/p236.jpg" height="889" width="371"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="petrified"></a>THE PETRIFIED MAN +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p239.jpg (125K)" src="images/p239.jpg" height="865" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p240.jpg (28K)" src="images/p240.jpg" height="441" width="347"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p242.jpg (30K)" src="images/p242.jpg" height="431" width="341"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="massacre"></a>MY BLOODY MASSACRE +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p243.jpg (123K)" src="images/p243.jpg" height="886" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p245.jpg (27K)" src="images/p245.jpg" height="435" width="345"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p6.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> + + + diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/p6.htm b/old/orig3189-h/p6.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..77c6d08 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/p6.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1042 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Part 6</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p7.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Part 6.</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<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> + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="undertaker"></a>THE UNDERTAKER'S CHAT +</h2></center> +<br> + + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="chambermaids"></a>CONCERNING CHAMBERMAIDS +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p250.jpg (92K)" src="images/p250.jpg" height="617" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="aurelia"></a>AURELIA'S UNFORTUNATE YOUNG MAN +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1865.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p253.jpg (89K)" src="images/p253.jpg" height="613" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="jenkins"></a>"AFTER" JENKINS +</h2></center> +<br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="barbers"></a>ABOUT BARBERS +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p257.jpg (140K)" src="images/p257.jpg" height="853" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p259.jpg (23K)" src="images/p259.jpg" height="455" width="405"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p260.jpg (37K)" src="images/p260.jpg" height="483" width="379"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="ireland"></a>"PARTY CRIES" IN IRELAND +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p262.jpg (132K)" src="images/p262.jpg" height="886" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="resignation"></a>THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT RESIGNATION [Written about 1867] +</h2></center> +<center><h3>WASHINGTON, December, 1867. +</h3></center> +<br> + + +<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> + + +<center> +<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> +</center> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="history"></a>HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p271.jpg (103K)" src="images/p271.jpg" height="687" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="curiosity"></a>HONORED AS A CURIOSITY +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p273.jpg (99K)" src="images/p273.jpg" height="884" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + + + +<br><br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p7.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/orig3189-h/p7.htm b/old/orig3189-h/p7.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..10cecb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig3189-h/p7.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1786 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD, Part 7</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p6.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<h1>SKETCHES NEW AND OLD +</h1></center> + +<center><h3>by Mark Twain</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><h3>Part 7.</h3></center> + +<br><br> + + + +<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (224K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="715" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="frontpiece.jpg (134K)" src="images/frontpiece.jpg" height="790" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><img alt="titlepage.jpg (38K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="850" width="650"></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<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> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="ward"></a>FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1870.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p283.jpg (107K)" src="images/p283.jpg" height="647" width="650"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="cannibalism"></a>CANNIBALISM IN THE CARS +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1867.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p287.jpg (128K)" src="images/p287.jpg" height="848" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>THE STRANGER'S NARRATIVE</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="caesar"></a>THE KILLING OF JULIUS CAESAR "LOCALIZED" +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1865.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p162.jpg (129K)" src="images/p162.jpg" height="884" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> +<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> +<center><img alt="p164.jpg (79K)" src="images/p164.jpg" height="589" width="631"> +</center> +<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> +<center><img alt="p165.jpg (35K)" src="images/p165.jpg" height="269" width="650"> +</center> +<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. +</blockquote> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="widow"></a>THE WIDOW'S PROTEST +</h2></center> +<br> + + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="panoramist"></a>THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1866.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p296.jpg (109K)" src="images/p296.jpg" height="893" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + "Oh, we'll all get blind drunk<br> + When Johnny comes marching home! + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<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> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + "A life on the ocean wave,<br> + And a home on the rolling deep! + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<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> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + "Come rise up, William Ri-i-ley,<br> + And go along with me! + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="cold"></a>CURING A COLD +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1864] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p300.jpg (138K)" src="images/p300.jpg" height="877" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p302.jpg (32K)" src="images/p302.jpg" height="425" width="345"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p304.jpg (24K)" src="images/p304.jpg" height="431" width="349"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p305.jpg (24K)" src="images/p305.jpg" height="453" width="339"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="excursion"></a>A CURIOUS PLEASURE EXCURSION +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Published at the time of the "Comet Scare" in the summer of 1874] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p306.jpg (111K)" src="images/p306.jpg" height="889" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<center><h3>ADVERTISEMENT</h3></center> +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> +<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> + +<center> <h3>DEPARTURE OF THE COMET</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>THE POSTAL SERVICE</h3> +</center> + +<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> + + +<br> +<center> <h3>THE INHABITANTS OF STARS</h3> +</center> + +<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> + + +<br> +<center> <h3>A GREAT FORCE OF MISSIONARIES,</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>THE DOG STAR</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>A STUPENDOUS VOYAGE</h3> +</center> + +<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> + + +<br> +<center> <h3>FIRST-CLASS FARE</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>OLD RAMSHACKLE COMETS</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>WE CARRY BULLETIN-BOARDS</h3> +</center> + +<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> + +<br> +<center> <h3>FOR FURTHER PARTICULARS,</h3> +</center> + +<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></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="governor"></a>RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR +</h2></center> +<center><h3>[Written about 1870.] +</h3></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p311.jpg (141K)" src="images/p311.jpg" height="879" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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? +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + SIGNIFICANT.—Mr. Twain, it will be observed, is suggestively + silent about the Cochin China perjury. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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? +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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). +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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?" +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + How about that old woman you kiked of your premises which + was beging.<br> POL. PRY. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> +<p>And this:</p> +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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. +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + 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! +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><img alt="p315.jpg (58K)" src="images/p315.jpg" height="505" width="637"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><h2><a name="mysterious"></a>A MYSTERIOUS VISIT +</h2></center> +<br> + +<center><img alt="p316.jpg (90K)" src="images/p316.jpg" height="611" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<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><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> + What were your profits, during the past year, from any trade, + business, or vocation, wherever carried on? +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></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> + + + +<br><br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p6.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="3189-h.htm">Main Index</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> |
