THE MAN THAT 
 
 ERUPTED HADLEYBURG 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER STORIES AND ESSAYS 
 
 BY MARK TWAIN 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 1905 
 
Copyright, 1898, 1899, and 1901, by THE CENTURY COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1893, bv J- BRISBEN WALKER 
 Copyright, 1899, 1901, and 1902, by HARPER & BROTHERS 
 Copyright, 1898 and 1899, by THE FORUM PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 Copyright, 1899, by THE S. S. McCLURE COMPANY 
 Copyright, 1893^ by UNI?EKH(LL & NICHOLS 
 Copyright, i9i, by IK.VPN& -S. UNDERHILL 
 Copyright* 1899,, by SAMUE/L C. CLEMENS 
 Copyright, 1993 , oyTftE/AXE^ic^N 1%fU-ASHiNG COMPANY 
 Copyright, 1900, by OLIVIA L. CLEMENS 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 

 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 LISTENING TO HER HISTORY Frontispiece 
 
 JIMMY SAVES THE EMPEROR Facing p. 198 
 
 STILLMAN ACCUSES SHERLOCK HOLMES . . " 356 
 
 V 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 HAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG ... II 
 
 LITERARY PERSON 84 
 
 MAIDEN S ROMANCE 121 
 
 > HOW I GOT OUT OF IT . . . 145 
 
 THE BELATED RUSSIAN PASSPORT 157 
 
 TWO LITTLE TALES 186 
 
 ABOUT PLAY ACTINJ 2O2 
 
 DIPLOMATIC PAY AND CLOTHES 2l6 
 
 IS HE LIVING OR IS HE DEAD? 232 
 
 MY BOYHOOD DREAMS 246 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN EDISON KEEPING SCHOOL AGAIN . . 255 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM ADAM*S DIARY 260 
 
 THE DEATH DISK 276 
 
 A DOUBLB-BARRELED DETECTIVE STORY . . , . 293 
 
 vii 
 
Acknowledgment is hereby made to The Century Company, 
 The Forum, The Cosmopolitan, The S. S. McClure Company, 
 Irving S. Underhill, and Doubleday, Page & Company for 
 courtesy shown in allowing the reprint in this volume of a 
 number of their articles. 
 
MAN THAT CORRUPTED 
 HADLEYBURG 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER STORIES AND ESSAYS 
 
THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED 
 HADLEYBURG 
 
 i 
 
 I.vas many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most 
 honest and upright town in all the region round 
 about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched dur 
 ing tj.ree generations, and was prouder of it than of 
 any ther of its possessions. It was so proud of it, 
 and D anxious to insure its perpetuation, that it be 
 gan ID teach the principles of honest dealing to its 
 babit-s in the cradle, and made the like teachings the 
 stapl of their culture thenceforward through all the 
 yeais devoted to their education. Also, throughout 
 the formative years temptations were kept out of the 
 way of the young people, so that their honesty could 
 have every chance to harden and solidify, and be- 
 ome a part of their very bone. The neighboring 
 towns were jealous of this honorable supremacy /- 
 and effected to sneer at Hadleyburg s pride in it and 
 call it vanity ; but all the same they were obliged to 
 acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality an in-V 
 corruptible town ; and if pressed they would also 
 acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man 
 (11) 
 
12 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 hailed from Ha/ileyburg was all the recommendation 
 he neede d- \0iJeh , he went forth from his natal town 
 to seek far. responsible employment. 
 ; - ; But . at tact *, iti- the drift of time, Hadleyburg had 
 the ill luck to offend a passing stranger possibly 
 without knowing it, certainly without caring, for 
 Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not 
 a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would 
 have been well to make an exception in this one s 
 case, for he was a bitter man and revengeful. All 
 through his wanderings during a whole year he kept 
 his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments 
 to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. 
 He contrived many plans, and all of them were 
 good, but none of them was quite sweeping enough; 
 the poorest of them would hurt a great many indi 
 viduals, but what he wanted was a plan which would 
 comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as 
 one person escape unhurt. At last he had a for 
 tunate idea, and when it fell into his brain it lit up 
 his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form 
 a plan at once, saying to himself, " That is the thing 
 to do I will corrupt the town." 
 
 Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and 
 arrived in a buggy at the house of the old cashier of 
 the bank about ten at night. He got a sack out of 
 the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it 
 through the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. 
 A woman s voice said " Come in," and he entered, 
 and set his sack behind the stove in the parlor, 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg ,j 
 
 y politely to the old lady who sat reading the 
 onary Herald by the lamp : 
 ray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb 
 There now it is pretty well concealed ; one 
 :M hardly know it was there. Can I see your 
 md a moment, madam? " 
 
 , he was gone to Brixton, and might not return 
 [ >r2 morning. 
 
 ^ery well, madam, it is no matter. I merely 
 
 wan d to leave that sack in his care, to be delivered 
 
 to tl ; rightful owner when he shall be found. I am 
 
 mger; he does not know me; I am merely 
 
 pas- ig through the town to-night to discharge a 
 
 in.it 1 r which has been long in my mind. My 
 
 d is now completed, and I go pleased and a 
 
 proud, and you will never see me again. 
 
 fhort! is a paper attached to the sack which will 
 
 explain everything. Good-night, madam." 
 
 2 old lady was afraid of the mysterious big 
 
 i i, ger, and was glad to see him go. But her 
 
 >ity was roused, and she went straight to the 
 
 sacl and brought away the paper. It began as 
 
 folk /s : 
 
 BE PUBLISHED; or, the right man sought out by private in- 
 - either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a 
 hund* - d and sixty pounds four ounces 
 
 Mercy on us, and the door not locked ! " 
 s. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and 
 d it, then pulled down the window-shades and 
 frightened, worried, and wondering if there 
 
14 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 was anything else she could do toward making her 
 self and the money more safe. She listened awhile 
 for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity and went 
 back to the lamp and finished reading the paper : 
 
 " / am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, 
 to remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I 
 have received at her hands during my long stay under her Jiag ; and to 
 one of her citizens a citizen of Hadleyburg I am especially grateful 
 for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses, 
 in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say /WAS. / was a 
 ruined gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without 
 a penny. I asked for help in the dark ; I was ashamed to beg in the 
 light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars that 
 is to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune ; 
 for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. 
 And finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to 
 this day, and has at last conquered me ; and in conquering has saved 
 the remnant of my morals : I shall gamble no more. Now I have no 
 idea who that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to 
 have this money, to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases, ft 
 is merely my ivay of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, 
 I would Jind him myself ; but no matter, he will be found. This is an 
 honest town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without 
 fear. This man can be identified by the remark which he made ti 
 me; I feel persuaded that he will remember it. . 
 
 " And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry 
 privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any on? 
 who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, I am the man , 
 the remark I made was so-and-so? apply the test to wit : open tht 
 sack, and in it yoti will Jind a sealed envelope containing that remark. 
 If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, give him thi 
 money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly the right man 
 
 "But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this pres 
 ent writing in the local paper with these instructions added, to wit . 
 Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall a: 
 eight in the evening (Friday^), and hand his remark, in a sealed en 
 velope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act) ; ana 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 15 
 
 let Afr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open tf t 
 and S(e if the remark is correct ; if correct, let the money be delivered, 
 with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified." 
 
 Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with 
 excitement, and was soon lost in thinkings after 
 this pattern: "What a strange thing it is ! . . . 
 And what a fortune for that kind man who set 
 his bread afloat upon the waters ! ... If it had 
 only been my husband that did it! for we are so 
 poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh 
 " But it was not my Edward; no, it was not he 
 that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity, 
 too; I see it now. . . ." Then, with a shudder 
 " But it is gamblers money ! the wages of sin: we 
 couldn t take it; we couldn t touch it. I don t like 
 to be near it; it seems a defilement." She moved 
 to a farther chair. . . . "I wish. Edward would 
 come, and take it to the bank; a burglar might 
 come at any moment ; it is dreadful to be here all 
 alone with it." 
 
 At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife 
 was saying, " I am so glad you ve come! " he was 
 saying, " I m so tired tired clear out; it is dread 
 ful to be poor, and have to make these dismal jour 
 neys at my time of life. Always at the grind, grind, 
 grind, on a salary another man s slave, and he sit 
 ting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable." 
 
 " I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; 
 but be comforted: we have our livelihood; we ( 
 have our good name " 
 
1 6 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 1 Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don t mind 
 my talk it s just a moment s irritation and doesn t 
 mean anything. Kiss me there, it s all gone now, 
 and I am not complaining any more. What have 
 you been getting? What s in the sack? " 
 
 Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed 
 him for a moment ; then he said : 
 
 " It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, 
 Mary, it s for-ty thou-sand dollars think of it a 
 whole fortune ! Not ten men in this village are 
 worth that much. Give me the paper." 
 
 He skimmed through it and said : 
 
 "Isn t it an adventure! Why, it s a romance; 
 it s, like the impossible things one reads about in 
 books, and never sees in life." He was well stirred 
 up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old 
 wife on the cheek, and said, humorously, "Why, 
 we re rich, Mary, rich; all we ve got to do is to 
 bury the money and burn the papers. If the 
 gambler ever comes to inquire, we ll merely look 
 coldly upon him and say: What is this nonsense 
 you are talking? We have never heard of you and 
 your sack of gold before; and then he would look 
 foolish, and " 
 
 " And in the meantime, while you are running on 
 with your jokes, the money is still here, and it is fast 
 getting along toward burglar-time." 
 
 "True. Very well, what shall we do make the 
 inquiry private? No, not that: it would spoil the 
 romance. The public method is better. Think 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 17 
 
 what a noise it will make ! And it will make all the 
 other towns jealous ; for no stranger would trust 
 such a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and they 
 know it. It s a great card for us. I must get to 
 the printing-office now, or I shall be too late." 
 
 "But stop stop don t leave me here alone 
 with it, Edward! " 
 
 But he was gone. For only a little while, how 
 ever. Not far from his own house he met the 
 editor-proprietor of the paper, and gave him the 
 document, and said, " Here is a good thing for you, 
 Cox put it in." 
 
 " It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I ll see." 
 
 At home again he and his wife sat down to talk 
 the charming mystery over; they were in no con 
 dition for sleep. The first question was, Who could 
 the citizen have been who gave the stranger the 
 twenty dollars? It seemed a simple one; both 
 answered it in the same breath 
 
 " Barclay Goodson." 
 
 "Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, 
 and it would have been like him, but there s not 
 another in the town." 
 
 "Everybody will grant that, Edward grant it 
 privately, anyway. For six months, now, the vil 
 lage has been its own proper self once more hon 
 est, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy." 
 
 "It is what he always called it, to the day of his 
 death said it right out publicly, too." 
 
 " Yes, and he was hated for it." 
 
1 8 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 "Oh, of course; but he didn t care. I reckon 
 he was the best-hated man among us, except the 
 Reverend Burgess." 
 
 "Well, Burgess deserves it he will never get 
 another congregation here. Mean as the town is, it 
 knows how to estimate him. Edward, doesn t it 
 seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess 
 to deliver the money? " 
 
 4 Well, yes it does. That is that is 
 
 "Why so much that-w-ing? Would you select 
 him?" 
 
 " Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better 
 than this village does." 
 
 "Much that would help Burgess ! " 
 
 The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; 
 the wife kept a steady eye upon him, and waited. 
 Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one 
 who is making a statement which is likely to en 
 counter doubt, 
 
 " Mary, Burgess is not a bad man." 
 
 His wife was certainly surprised. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of 
 his unpopularity had its foundation in that one thing 
 the thing that made so much noise." 
 
 "That one thing, indeed! As if that one 
 thing wasn t enough, all by itself." 
 
 " Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn t guilty of it." 
 
 " How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody 
 knows he was guilty." 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 19 
 
 11 Mary, I give you my word he was innocent." 
 
 "I can t believe it, and I don t. How do you 
 know?" 
 
 "It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will 
 make it. I was the only man who knew he was 
 innocent. I could have saved him, and and 
 well, you know how the town was wrought up I 
 hadn t the pluck to do it. It would have turned 
 everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; 
 but I didn t dare; I hadn t the manliness to face 
 that." 
 
 Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. 
 Then she said, stammeringly : 
 
 "I I don t think it would have done for you to 
 to One mustn t er public opinion one 
 has to be so careful so " It was a difficult road, 
 and she got mired ; but after a little she got started 
 again. " It was a great pity, but Why, we 
 couldn t afford it, Edward we couldn t indeed. 
 Oh, I wouldn t have had you do it for anything! " 
 
 11 It would have lost us the good-will of so many 
 people, Mary; and then and then " 
 
 " What troubles me now is, what he thinks of us, 
 Edward." 
 
 41 He? He doesn t suspect that I could have 
 saved him." 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, " I 
 am glad of that. As long as he doesn t know that 
 you could have saved him, he he well, that 
 makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have 
 
20 The Man that Corrupted Hadleytmrg 
 
 known he didn t know, because he is always trying 
 to be friendly with us, as little encouragement as we 
 give him. More than once people have twitted me 
 with it. There s the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, 
 and the Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure in 
 saying, Your friend Burgess, because they know it 
 pesters me. I wish he wouldn t persist in liking us 
 so; I can t think why he keeps it up." 
 
 11 I can explain it. It s another confession. 
 When the thing was new and hot, and the town 
 made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience 
 hurt me so that I couldn t stand it, and I went 
 privately and gave him notice, and he got out of 
 the town and staid out till it was safe to come back." 
 
 " Edward ! If the town had found it out " 
 
 "Don t! It scares me yet, to think of it. I 
 repented of it the minute it was done; and I was 
 even afraid to tell you, lest your face might betray 
 it to somebody. I didn t sleep any that night, for 
 worrying. But after a few days I saw that no one 
 was going to suspect me, and after that I got to 
 feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary 
 glad through and through." 
 
 11 So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful 
 way to treat him. Yes, I m glad; for really you did 
 owe him that, you know. f But, Edward, suppose it 
 should come out yet, some day 1 " 
 
 11 It won t." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 11 Because everybody thinks it was Goodson." 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 21 
 
 11 Of course they would ! " 
 
 " Certainly. And of course he didn t care. 
 They persuaded poor old Sawlsberry to go and 
 charge it on him, and he went blustering over there 
 and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he 
 was hunting for a place on him that he could despise 
 the most, then he says, So you are the Committee 
 of Inquiry, are you ? Sawlsberry said that was 
 about what he was. * Hm. Do they require par 
 ticulars, or do you reckon a kind of a general 
 answer will do? If they require particulars, I will 
 come back, Mr. Goodson ; I will take the general 
 answer first. Very well, then, tell them to go to 
 hell I reckon that s general enough. And 
 give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come 
 back for the particulars, fetch a basket to carry th< 
 relics of yourself home in. 
 
 "Just like Goodson; it s got all the marks, 
 had only one vanity: he thought he could g 
 advice better than any other person." 
 
 "It settled the business, and saved us, Ma j 
 The subject was dropped." 
 
 " Bless you, I m not doubting that." 
 
 Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, 
 with strong interest. Soon the conversation began 
 to suffer breaks interruptions caused by absorbed 
 thinkings. The breaks grew more and more fre 
 quent. At last Richards lost himself wholly in 
 thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly at the floor, 
 and by and by he began to punctuate his thoughts 
 
22 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 with little nervous movements of his hands that 
 seemed to indicate vexation. Meantime his wife 
 too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and her 
 movements were beginning to show a troubled dis 
 comfort. Finally Richards got up and strode aim 
 lessly about the room, plowing his hands through 
 his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was 
 having a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a 
 definite purpose ; and without a word he put on his 
 hat and passed quickly out of the house. His wife 
 sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem 
 to be aware that she was alone. Now and then she 
 murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but but 
 
 we are so poor, so poor! . . . Lead us not 
 into. . . . Ah, who would be hurt by it? and no 
 one would ever know. . . . Lead us. . . . The 
 voice died out in mumblings. After a little she 
 glanced up and muttered in a half -frightened, half- 
 glad way 
 
 " He is gone ! But, oh dear, he may be too late 
 
 too late. . . . Maybe not maybe there is still 
 time." She rose and stood thinking, nervously 
 clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shud 
 der shook her frame, and she said, out of a dry 
 throat, " God forgive me it s awful to think such 
 things but . . . Lord, how we are made how 
 strangely we are made ! 
 
 She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily 
 over and kneeled down by the sack and felt of its 
 ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them lov 
 
"he Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 23 
 
 ingly ; and there was a gloating light in her poor old 
 eyes. She fell into fits of absence ; and came half 
 out of them at times to mutter, "If we had only 
 waited ! oh, if we had only waited a little, and not 
 been in such a hurry ! " 
 
 Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and 
 told his wife all about the strange thing that had hap 
 pened, and they had talked it over eagerly, and 
 guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in 
 the town who could have helped a suffering stranger 
 with so noble a sum as twenty dollars. Then there 
 was a pause, and the two became thoughtful and 
 silent. And by and by nervous and fidgety. At 
 last the wife said, as if to herself, 
 
 4 Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses 
 . . . and us ... nobody." 
 
 The husband came out of his thinkings with a 
 slight start, and gazed wistfully at his wife, whose 
 face was become very pale; then he hesitatingly 
 rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his 
 wife a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed 
 once or twice, with her hand at her throat, then in 
 place of speech she nodded her head. In a moment 
 she was alone, and mumbling to herself. 
 
 And now Richards and Cox were hurrying 
 through the deserted streets, from opposite direc 
 tions. They met, panting, at the foot of the print 
 ing-office stairs ; by the night-light there they read 
 each other s face. Cox whispered, 
 
 * Nobody knows about this but us? " 
 
24 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 The whispered answer was, 
 
 44 Not a soul on honor, not a soul ! " 
 
 " If it isn t too late to " 
 
 The men were starting up-stairs ; at this moment 
 they were overtaken by a boy, and Cox asked, 
 
 44 Is that you, Johnny?" 
 
 44 Yes, sir." 
 
 44 You needn t ship the early mail nor any 
 mail; wait till I tell you." 
 
 14 It s already gone, sir." 
 
 4 4 Gone ? It had the sound of an unspeakable 
 disappointment in it. 
 
 4 Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the 
 towns beyond changed to-day, sir had to get the 
 papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. I 
 had to rush ; if I had been two minutes later 
 
 The men turned and walked slowly away, not 
 
 waiting to hear the rest. Neither of them spoke 
 
 during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed tone, 
 
 4 What possessed you to be in such a hurry, / 
 
 can t make out." 
 
 The answer was humble enough : 
 
 4 I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you 
 know, until it was too late. But the next time - 
 
 4 Next time be hanged! It won t come in a 
 thousand years." 
 
 Then the friends separated without a good-night, 
 and dragged themselves home with the gait of 
 mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives 
 sprang up with an eager * 4 Well? " then saw the 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 25 
 
 answer with their eyes and sank down sorro\ving v 
 without waiting for it to come in words. In both 
 houses a discussion followed of a heated sort a 
 new thing; there had been discussions before, but 
 not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions 
 to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each 
 other. Mrs. Richards said, 
 
 If you had only waited, Edward if you had 
 only stopped to think; but no, you must run straight 
 to the printing-office and spread it all over the world . 
 
 " It said publish it." 
 
 44 That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if 
 you liked. There, now is that true, or not? " 
 
 4 Why, yes yes, it is true; but when I thought 
 what a stir it would make, and what a compliment it 
 was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should trust it 
 so--" 
 
 44 Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had 
 only stopped to think, you would have seen that 
 you couldn t find the right man, because he is in his 
 grave, and hasn t left chick nor child nor relation 
 behind him ; and as long as the money went to 
 somebody that awfully needed it, and nobody would 
 be hurt by it, and and 
 
 She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to 
 think of some comforting thing to say, and presently 
 came out with this : 
 
 44 But after all, Mary, it must be for the best it 
 must be; we know that. And we must remember 
 that it was so ordered 
 
26 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 "Ordered! Oh, everything s ordered, when a 
 person has to find some way out when he has been 
 stupid. Just the same, it was ordered that the 
 money should come to us in this special way, and 
 it was you that must take it on yourself to go med 
 dling with the designs of Providence and who 
 gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it 
 was just blasphemous presumption, and no more 
 becoming to a meek and humble professor of - 
 
 1 But, Mary, you know how we have been trained 
 all our lives long, like the whole village, till it is 
 absolutely second nature to us to stop not a single 
 moment to think when there s an honesty thing to be 
 done" 
 
 " Oh, I know it, I know it it s been one ever 
 lasting training and training and training in honesty 
 honesty shielded, from the very cradle, against 
 / every possible temptation, and so it s artificial 
 honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, 
 as we have seen this night. God knows I never had 
 shade nor shadow of a doubt of my petrified and 
 indestructible honesty until now and now, under 
 the very first big and real temptation, I Edwaid, 
 it is my belief that this town s honesty is as rotten 
 as mine is ; as rotten as yours is. It is a mean 
 town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn t a virtue in the 
 world but this honesty it is so celebrated for and so 
 conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that 
 if ever the day comes that its honesty falls under 
 great temptation, its grand reputation will go to ruin 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 27 
 
 like a house of cards. There, now, I ve made con 
 fession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I ve / 
 been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no ^W 
 man call me honest again I will not have it." 
 
 * I well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do; 
 I certainly do. It seems strange, too, so strange. 
 I never could have believed it never." 
 
 A long silence followed ; both were sunk in 
 thought. At last the wife looked up and said, 
 
 * I know what you are thinking, Edward." 
 Richards had the embarrassed look of a person 
 
 who is caught. 
 
 " I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but \. , 
 
 It s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same 
 question myself." I 
 
 " I hope so. State it." 
 
 " You were thinking, if a body could only guess 
 out what the remark was that Goodson made to the 
 stranger. 
 
 It s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. 
 And you? " 
 
 I m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we ve 
 got to stand watch till the bank vault opens in the 
 morning and admits the sack. . . . Oh dear, oh 
 dear if we hadn t made the mistake ! 
 The pallet was made, and Mary said: 
 The open sesame what could it have been? I 
 do wonder what that remark could have been? 
 But come; we will get to bed now." 
 " And sleep? " 
 
28 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 "No: think." 
 
 44 Yes, think." 
 
 By this time the Coxes too had completed their 
 spat and their reconciliation, and were turning in 
 to think, to think, and toss, and fret, and worry 
 over what the remark could possibly have been 
 which Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that 
 golden remark ; that remark worth forty thousand 
 dollars, cash. 
 
 The reason that the village telegraph office was 
 open later than usual that night was this : The 
 foreman of Cox s paper was the local representative 
 of the Associated Press. One might say its honor 
 ary representative, for it wasn t four times a year 
 that he could furnish thirty words that would be 
 accepted. But this time it was different. His 
 dispatch stating what he had caught got an instant 
 answer : 
 
 " Send the whole thing all the details twelve hundred words" 
 
 A colossal order ! The foreman filled the bill ; 
 and he was the proudest man in the State. By break 
 fast-time the next morning the name of Hadleybtirg 
 the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from 
 Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to 
 the orange-groves of Florida ; and millions and mill 
 ions of people were discussing the stranger and his 
 money-sack, and wondering if the right man would 
 be found, and hoping some more news about the 
 matter would come soon right away. 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 29 
 
 ii 
 
 Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated . 
 astonished happy vain. Vain beyond imagina 
 tion. Its nineteen principal citizens and their wives 
 went about shaking hands with each other, and 
 beaming, and smiling, and congratulating, and say 
 ing this thing adds a new word to the dictionary - 
 Hadleyburg, synonym for incorruptible destined to 
 live in dictionaries forever ! And the minor anH 
 unimportant citizens and their wives went around 
 acting in much the same way. Everybody ran to 
 the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon 
 grieved and envious crowds began to flock in from 
 Brixton and all neighboring towns ; and that after 
 noon and next day reporters began to arrive from 
 everywhere to verify the sack and its history and 
 write the whole thing up anew, and make dashing 
 free-hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards s 
 house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, 
 and the Baptist church, and the public square, and 
 the town-hall where the test would be applied and 
 the money delivered ; and damnable portraits of the 
 Richardses, and Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, 
 and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, and the 
 postmaster and even of Tack ^Halliday . who was 
 the loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent 
 fisherman, hunter, boys friend, stray-dogs friend, 
 typical " Sam Lavvson " of the town. The little 
 mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to 
 all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together 
 
y 
 
 30 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 pleasantly, and enlarged upon the town s fine old 
 reputation for honesty and upon this wonderful 
 endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the 
 example would now spread far and wide over the 
 American world, and be epoch-making in the matter 
 of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on. 
 
 By the end of a week things had quieted down 
 again ; the wild intoxication of pride and joy had 
 sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight a sort of 
 deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces 
 bore a look of peaceful, holy happiness. 
 
 Then a change came. It was a gradual change: 
 so gradual that its beginnings were hardly noticed ; 
 maybe were not noticed at all, except by Jack Hal- 
 liday, who always noticed everything; and always 
 made fun of it, too, no matter what it was. He 
 began to throw out chaffing remarks about people 
 not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two 
 ago ; and next he claimed that the new aspect was 
 deepening to positive sadjpss^ next, that it was tak 
 ing on a sick look^-and finally he said that everybody 
 was become so moody, thoughtful, and ^absent- 
 minded that he could rob tEe meanest man in town 
 of a cent out of the bottom of his breeches pocket 
 and not disturb his revery. 
 
 At this stage or at about this stage a saying 
 like this was dropped at bedtime with a sigh, 
 usually by the head of each of the nineteen 
 principal households: " Ah, what could have been 
 the remark that Goodson made? " 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 31 
 
 And straightway with a shudder came this, 
 from the man s wife: 
 
 "Oh, don t! What horrible thing are you 
 mulling in your mind? Put it away from you, for 
 God s sake! " 
 
 But that question was \vrung from those men 
 again the next night and got the same retort. 
 But weaker. 
 
 And the third night the men uttered the question 
 yet again with anguish, and absently. This time 
 and the following night the wives fidgeted 
 feebly, and tried to say something. But didn t. 
 
 And the night after that they found their tongues 
 and responded longingly, 
 
 11 Oh, if we could only guess ! " 
 
 Halliday s comments grew daily more and more 
 sparklingly disagreeable and disparaging. He went 
 diligently about, laughing at the town, individually 
 and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in 
 the village : it fell upon a hollow and mournful 
 vacancy and emptiness. Not even a smile was 
 fmdable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box 
 around on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, 
 and halted all passers and aimed the thing and said, 
 Ready! now look pleasant, please," but not 
 even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces 
 into any softening. 
 
 So three weeks passed one week was left. It 
 was Saturday evening after supper. Instead of 
 the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and bustle 
 
)2 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 and shopping and larking, the streets were empty 
 and desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart 
 in their little parlor miserable and thinking. This 
 was become their evening habit now : the lifelong 
 habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, 
 and contented chat, or receiving or paying neigh 
 borly calls, was dead and gone and forgotten, ages 
 ago two or three weeks ago ; nobody talked^now, 
 nobody read, nobody visited the whole village sat 
 at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess 
 out that remark. 
 
 The postman left a letter. Richards glanced 
 listlessly at the superscription and the postmark 
 unfamiliar, both and tossed the letter on the table 
 and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless 
 dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or 
 three hours later his wife got wearily up and was 
 going away to bed without a good-night custom 
 now but she stopped near the letter and eyed it 
 awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and 
 began to skim it over. Richards, sitting there with 
 his chair tilted back against the wall and his chin 
 between his knees, heard something fall. It wa.; his 
 wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out: 
 
 l< Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the 
 letter -read it ! " 
 
 He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The 
 letter was from a distant State, and it said : 
 
 " f am a stranger to you, but no matter : I have something to telL 
 I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 33 
 
 Of course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I 
 am the only person living who does know. It was GoonsON. I knew 
 him well, many years ago. I passed through your village that very 
 night, and was his guest till the midnight train came along. I over 
 heard him make that remark to the stranger in the dark it was in 
 Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while 
 smoking in his house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the 
 course of his talk most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but 
 two or three favorably ; among these latter yourself. I say favorably 
 
 nothing stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE 
 any person in the town not one ; but that you / THINK, he said 
 you am almost stire had done him a very great service once, pos 
 sibly without knowing the full value of it, and he wished he had a 
 fortune, he would leave it to you when he died, and a curse (rpiece for 
 the rest of the citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that 
 service, you are his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I 
 know t/iat 1 can trust to your honor and honesty, for in a citizen of 
 Hadlcyburg these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am 
 going to reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the 
 right man you will seek and fend the right one and see that poor Good- 
 son 1 s debt of gratitude for the service referred to is pail. This is the 
 remark : You ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN : GO, AND REFORM/ 
 
 "HOWARD L. STEPHENSON." 
 
 11 Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so 
 grateful, ok, so grateful kiss me, dear, it s forever 
 since we kissed and we needed it so the money 
 
 and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, 
 and nobody s slave any more; it seems to me I 
 could fly for joy." 
 
 It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent 
 there on the settee caressing each other ; it was the 
 old days come again days that had begun with 
 their courtship and lasted without a break till the 
 stranger brought the deadly money. By and by the 
 wife said : 
 
34 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 " Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that 
 grand service, poor Goodson ! I never liked him, 
 but I love him now. And it was fine and beautiful 
 of you never to mention it or brag about it." 
 Then, with a touch of reproach, ** But you ought 
 to have told me, Edward, you ought to have told 
 your wife, you know." 
 
 "Well, I er well, Mary, you see 
 
 "Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me 
 about it, Edward. I always loved you, and now 
 I m proud of you. Everybody believes there was 
 only one good generous soul in this village, and 
 now it turns out that you Edward, why don t 
 you tell me? " 
 
 -Well er er Why, Mary, I can t! " 
 
 " You can t? Why can t you? " 
 You see, he well, he he made me promise 
 I wouldn t." 
 
 The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly, 
 
 "Made you promise? Edward, what do 
 you tell me that for?" 
 
 " Mary, do you think I would lie? " 
 
 She was troubled and silent for a moment, then 
 she laid her hand within his and said : 
 
 "No . . . no. We have wandered far enough 
 from our bearings God spare us that ! In all 
 your life you have never uttered a lie. 
 
 now that the foundations of things seem to be crum 
 bling from under us, we we - She lost her 
 
 voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, " Lead us 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 35 
 
 not into temptation. ... I think you made the 
 promise, Edward. Let it rest so. Let us keep 
 away from that ground. Now that is all gone 
 by; let us be happy again; it is no time for clouds." 
 
 Edward found it something of an effort to comply, 
 for his mind kept wandering -trying to remember 
 what the service was that he had done Goodson. 
 ~The couple lay awake the most"6T"tHe"hIglit, Mary 
 happy and busy, Edward busy but not so happy. 
 Mary was planning what she would do with the 
 money. Edward was trying to recall that service. 
 At first his conscience was sore on account of the 
 lie he had told Mary if it was a lie. After much 
 reflection suppose it was a lie? What then? 
 Was it such a great matter? Aren t we always 
 acting- lies? Then why not tell them? Look at 
 Mary look what she had done. While he was 
 hurrying off on his honest errand, what was she 
 doing? Lamenting because the papers hadn t been 
 destroyed and the money kept! Is theft better/ 
 than lying? 
 
 That point lost its sting the lie dropped into 
 the background and left comfort behind it. The 
 next point came to the front : Had he rendered that 
 service? Well, here was Goodson s own evidence 
 as reported in Stephenson s letter; there could be 
 no better evidence than that it was even proof 
 that he had rendered it. Of course. So that point 
 was settled. . . . No, not quite. He recalled with 
 a wince that this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just 
 
36 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it was 
 Richards or some other and, oh dear, he had 
 put Richards on his . honor ! He must himself 
 decide whither that money must go and Mr. 
 Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the 
 wrong man he would go honorably and find the 
 right one. Oh, it was odious to put a man in such 
 a situation ah, why couldn t Stephenson have left 
 out that doubt ! What did he want to intrude that 
 for? 
 
 Further reflection. How did rt happen that 
 
 Richards 1 s name remainecfin Stephenson sjmind as 
 indicating the right jpan, and not some other man s 
 name? That looked._gopd. Yes, that looked very 
 good. In fact, it went on looking better and better, 
 straight along -until by and by it grew into posi 
 tive proof. And then Richards put the matter at 
 once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct 
 that a proof once established is better left so. 
 
 He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but 
 there was still one other detail that kept pushing 
 itself on his notice : of course he had done that ser 
 vice that was settled; but what was that service? 
 He must recall it he would not go to sleep till he 
 had recalled it ; it would make his peace of mind 
 perfect. And so he thought and thought. He 
 thought of a dozen things possible services, even 
 probable services but none of them seemed ade 
 quate, none of them seemed large enough, none of 
 them seemed worth the money worth the fortune 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 37 
 
 Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And 
 besides, he couldn t remember having done them, 
 anyway. Now, then now, then what kind of 
 a service would it be that would make a man so in 
 ordinately grateful? Ah the saving of his soul! 
 That must be it. Yes, he could remember, now, 
 how he once set himself the task of converting 
 Goodson, and labored at it as much as he was 
 going to say three months ; but upon closer exam 
 ination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then 
 to a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered 
 now, and with unwelcome vividness, that Goodson 
 had told him to go to thunder and mind his own 
 business lie wasn t hankering to follow HadleyA^ 
 burg to heaven ! 
 
 So that solution was a failure he hadn t saved 
 Goodson s soul. Richards was discouraged. Then 
 after a little came another idea : had he saved Good- 
 son s property? No, that wouldn t do he hadn t 
 any. His life? That is it! Of course. Why, he 
 might have thought of it before. This time he was 
 on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was 
 hard at work in a minute, now. 
 
 Thereafter during a stretch of two exhausting 
 hours he was busy saving Goodson s life. He 
 saved it in all kinds of difficult and perilous ways. 
 In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a 
 certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get 
 well persuaded that it had really happened, a 
 troublesome detail would turn up which made the 
 
jS The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drown 
 ing, for instance. In that case he had swum out 
 and tugged Goodson ashore in an unconscious 
 state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, 
 but when he had got it all thought out and was just 
 beginning to remember all about it, a whole swarm 
 of disqualifying details arrived on the ground : the 
 town would have known of the circumstance, Mary 
 would have known of it, it would glare like a lime 
 light in his own memory instead of being an incon 
 spicuous service which he had possibly rendered 
 " without knowing its full value." And at this 
 point he remembered that he couldn t swim, any 
 way. 
 
 Ah there was a point which he had been over 
 looking from the start: it had to be a service which 
 he had rendered " possibly without knowing the full 
 value of it." Why, really, that ought to be an easy 
 hunt much easier than those others. And sure 
 enough, by and by he found it. Goodson, years 
 and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet 
 and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some 
 way or other the match had been broken off ; the 
 girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, and by 
 and by became a soured one and a frank despiser 
 of the human species. Soon after the girl s death 
 the village found out, or thought it had found out, 
 that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her 
 veins. Richards worked at these details a good 
 while, and in the end he thought he remembered 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 39 
 
 things concerning them which must have gotten 
 mislaid in his memory through long neglect. He 
 seemed to dimly remember that it was he that found! 
 out about the negro blood ; that it was he that told 
 the village; that the village told Goodson where 
 they got it; that he thus saved Goodson from 
 marrying the tainted girl ; that he had done him this 
 great service "without knowing the full value of 
 it," in fact without knowing that he was doing it; 
 but that Goodson knew the value of it, and what a 
 narrow escape he had had, and so went to his grave 
 grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a for 
 tune to leave him. It was all clear and simple now, 
 and the more he went over it the more luminous and 
 certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to sleep 
 satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing 
 just as if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly 
 remembered Goodson s telling him his gratitude 
 once, Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dol 
 lars on a new house for herself and a pair of slippers 
 for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to 
 rest. 
 
 That same Saturday evening the postman had de 
 livered a letter to each of the other principal citizens 
 - nineteen letters in all. No two of the envelopes 
 were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were 
 in the same hand, but the letters inside were just 
 like each other in every detail but one. They were 
 exact copies of the letter received by Richards 
 handwriting and all and were all signed by Stephen- 
 
40 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 son, but in place of Richards s name each receiver s 
 own name appeared. 
 
 All night long eighteen principal citizens did what 
 their caste-brother Richards was doing at the same 
 time they put in their energies trying to remember 
 what notable service it was that they had uncon 
 sciously done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it 
 a holiday job; still they succeeded. 
 
 And while they were at this work, which was diffi 
 cult, their wives put in the night spending the 
 money, which was easy. During that one night the 
 nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand 
 dollars each out of the forty thousand in the sack 
 a hundred and thirty-three thousand altogether. 
 
 Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. 
 He noticed that the faces of the nineteen chief 
 citizens and their wives bore that expression of 
 peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not 
 understand it, neither was he able to invent any 
 remarks about it that could damage it or disturb it. 
 And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied with life. 
 His private guesses at the reasons for the happiness 
 failed in all instances, upon examination. When he 
 met Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in 
 her face, he said to himself, " Her cat has had 
 kittens and went and asked the cook : it was not 
 so; the cook had detected the happiness, but did not 
 know the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate 
 ecstasy in the face of " Shadbelly " Billson (village 
 nickname), he was sure some neighbor of Billson s 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 41 
 
 had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had 
 not happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory 
 Yates s face could mean but one thing he was a 
 mother-in-law short: it was another mistake. "And 
 Pinkerton Pinkerton he has collected ten cents 
 that he thought he was going to lose." And so on, 
 and so on. In some cases the guesses had to re 
 main in doubt, in the others they proved distinct 
 errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, " Any 
 way it foots up that there s nineteen Hadleyburg 
 families temporarily in heaven: I don t know how it 
 happened; I only know Providence is off duty 
 to-day." 
 
 An architect and builder from the next State had 
 lately ventured to set up a small business in this 
 unpromising village, and his sign had now been 
 hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a 
 discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his 
 weather changed suddenly now. First one and then 
 another chief citizen s wife said to him privately: 
 
 " Come to my house Monday week but say noth 
 ing about it for the present. We think of building." 
 
 He got eleven invitations that day. That night 
 he wrote his daughter and broke off her match with 
 her student. He said she could marry a mile higher 
 than that. 
 
 Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well- 
 to-do men planned country-seats but waited. That 
 kind don t count their chickens until they are 
 hatched. 
 
42 The Man that Corrupted Hadley burg 
 
 The Wilsons devised a grand new thing a fancy- 
 dress ball. They made no actual promises, but told 
 all their acquaintanceship in confidence that they 
 were thinking the matter over and thought they 
 should give it " and if we do, you will be invited, 
 of course." People were surprised, and said, one 
 to another, "Why, they are crazy, those poor 
 Wilsons, they can t afford it." Several among the 
 nineteen said privately to their husbands, "It is a 
 good idea : we will keep still till their cheap thing is 
 over, then we will give one that will make it sick." 
 
 The days drifted along, and the bill of future 
 squanderings rose higher and higher, wilder and 
 wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It 
 began to look as if every member of the nineteen 
 would not only spend his whole forty thousand dol 
 lars before receiving-day, but be actually in debt by 
 the time he got the money. In some_ cases light- 
 [ headed people did not stop with planning^ to spend, 
 
 they really spent- on _crediL They bought land, 
 
 "mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, 
 horses, and various other things, paid down the 
 bonus, and made themselves liable for the rest at 
 ten days. Presently the sober second thought came, 
 and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was be 
 ginning to show up in a good many faces. Again 
 he was puzzled, and didn t know what to make of 
 it. "The Wilcox kittens aren t dead, for they 
 weren t born; nobody s broken a leg; there s no 
 shrinkage in mother-in-laws ; nothing" has happened 
 it is an unsolvable mystery." 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 41 
 
 There was another puzzled man, too the Rev. 
 Mr. Burgess. For days, wherever he went, people 
 seemed to follow him or to be watching out for him ; 
 and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a 
 member of the nineteen would be sure to appear, 
 thrust an envelope privately into his hand, whisper 
 To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening," 
 then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was ex 
 pecting that there might be one claimant for the sack, 
 doubtful, however, Goodson being dead, but it 
 never occurred to him that all this crowd might be 
 claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he 
 found that he had nineteen envelopes. 
 
 The town-hall had never looked finer. The plat 
 form at the end of it was backed by a showy draping 
 of flags; at intervals along the walls were festoons of 
 flags ; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags ; the 
 supporting columns were swathed in flags ; all this 
 was to impress the stranger, for he would be there 
 in considerable force, and in a large degree he would 
 be connected with the press. The house was full. 
 The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 
 extra chairs which had been packed into the aisles ; 
 the steps of the platform were occupied ; some dis 
 tinguished strangers were given seats on the plat 
 form ; at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the 
 front and sides of the platform sat a strong force of 
 special correspondents who had come from every- 
 
44 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 where. It was the best-dressed house the town had 
 ever produced. There were some tolerably expen 
 sive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who 
 wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that 
 kind of clothes. At least the town thought they had 
 that look, but the notion could have arisen from the 
 town s knowledge of the fact that these ladies had 
 never inhabited such clothes before. 
 
 The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front 
 of the platform where all the house could see it. 
 The bulk of the house gazed at it with a burning in 
 terest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and 
 pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples 
 gazed at it tenderly, lovingly, proprietarily, and the 
 male half of this minority kept saying over to them 
 selves the moving little impromptu speeches of 
 thankfulness for the audience s applause and con 
 gratulations which they were presently going to get 
 up and deliver. Every now and then one of these 
 got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and 
 privately glanced at it to refresh his memory. 
 
 Of course there was a buzz of conversation going 
 on there always is; but at last when the Rev. Mr. 
 Burgess rose and laid his hand on the sack he could 
 hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. He 
 related the curious history of the sack, then went on 
 to speak in warm terms of Hadleyburg s old and 
 well-earned reputation for spotless honesty, and of 
 the town s just pride in this reputation. He said that 
 this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 45 
 
 that under Providence its value had now become 
 inestimably enhanced, for the recent episode had 
 spread this fame far and wide, and thus had focused 
 the eyes of the American world upon this village, 
 and mad its* name for all time, as 
 
 .. 
 
 believed, a synonym fgr- commercial incorruptibility. 
 \_Applatise. ] " And who is to be the guardian of 
 this noble treasure the community as a whole? 
 No ! The responsibility is individual, not communal. 
 From this day forth each and every one of you is in 
 his own person its special guardian, and individually 
 res]3 isiblc. that no harm shall come to it. Do you 
 
 - does each of you accept this great trust? 
 \Tumultuous assent.~\ Then all is well. Transmit! 
 it to your children and to your children s children. 
 
 o-day your purity is beyond reproach see to it 
 that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a 
 person in your community who could be beguiled 
 to touch a penny not his own see to it that you 
 abid in this grace. [" We will! we will!" ] 
 This is not the place to make comparisons between 
 ourselves and other communities some of them 
 ungracious toward us; they have their ways, we 
 have ours; let us be content. \Applause J\ I am 
 Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger s 
 eloquent recognition of what we are ; through him 
 the world will always henceforth know what we are. 
 We do not know who he is, but in your name I 
 utter your gratitude, and ask you to raise your 
 voi < in endorsement." 
 
46 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 The house rose in a body and made the walls 
 quake with the thunders of its thankfulness for the 
 space of a long minute. Then it sat down, and Mr. 
 Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The 
 house held its breath while he slit the envelope open 
 and took from it a slip of paper. He read its con 
 tents slowly and impressively the audience 
 listening with tranced attention to this magic docu 
 ment, each of whose words stood for an ingot of 
 gold: 
 
 " The remark which I made to the distressed 
 stranger was this : " You are very far from being a 
 bad man: go, and reform." Then he continued: 
 
 4 We shall know in a moment now whether the re 
 mark here quoted corresponds with the one con 
 cealed in the sack; and if that shall prove to be so 
 and it undoubtedly will this sack of gold be 
 longs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand 
 before the nation as the symbol of the special virtue 
 which has made our town famous throughout the 
 land Mr. Billson ! " 
 
 The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into 
 the proper tornado of applause; but instead of 
 doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; there 
 was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave 
 of whispered murmurs swept the place of about 
 this tenor: "Billson! oh, come, this is too thin! 
 Twenty dollars to a stranger or anybody Bill- 
 son! tell it to the marines! " And now it this 
 point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 47 
 
 a new access of astonishment, for it discovered that 
 whereas in one part of the hall Deacon Billson was 
 standing up with his head meekly bowed, in another 
 part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. 
 There was a wondering silence now for a while. 
 Everybody was puzzled, and nineteen couples 
 were surprised and indignant. 
 
 Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each 
 other. Billson asked, bitingly, 
 
 14 Why do you rise, Mr. Wilson? " 
 " Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be 
 good enough to explain to the house why you rise? " 
 With great pleasure. Because I wrote that 
 paper." 
 
 ft is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself." 
 
 vas Burgess s turn to be paralyzed. He stood 
 
 king vacantly at first one of the men and then the 
 
 r and did not seem to know what to do. The 
 
 vise was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up, 
 
 nov and said, 
 
 ask the Chair to read the name signed to that 
 > 
 
 \ it brought the Chair to itself, and it read out 
 
 the n:ime, 
 
 1 John Wharton Billson: " 
 
 There! " shouted Billson, "what have you got 
 
 ^ay for yourself, now? And what kind of 
 
 apology are you going to make to me and to this 
 
 insulted house for the imposture- which you have 
 
 attempted to play here? " 
 
48 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 "No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest 
 of it, I publicly charge you with pilfering my note 
 from Mr. Burgess and substituting a copy of it 
 signed with your own name. There is no other way 
 by which you could have gotten hold of the test- 
 remark; I alone, of living men, possessed the secret 
 of its wording." 
 
 There was likely to be a scandalous state of things 
 if this went on ; everybody noticed with distress that 
 the short-hand scribes were scribbling like mad ; 
 many people were crying "Chair, Chair! Order! 
 order! " Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: 
 
 "Let us not forget the proprieties due. Thefe 
 has evidently been a mistake somewhere, but surely 
 that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an envelope 
 and I remember now that he did I still have it." 
 
 He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced 
 at it, looked surprised and worried, and stood silent 
 a few moments. Then he waved his hand in a 
 wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort 
 or two to say something, then gave it up, despond 
 ently. Several voices cried out : 
 
 " Read it ! read it ! What is it? " 
 
 So he began in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion : 
 
 " The remark which I made to the nnhapp} stran 
 ger was this : "You are far from being a bad man. 
 [The house gazed at him, marveling.] Go, and 
 reform." {Murmurs: " Amazing! what can this 
 mean?"] This one," said the Chair, "is signed 
 Thurlow G. Wilson." 
 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 49 
 
 "here!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles 
 
 knew perfectly well my note was purloined." 
 
 urloined ! " retorted Billson. "I ll let you 
 
 know that neither you nor any man of your kidney 
 
 must venture to 
 
 /I, Chair. "Order, gentlemen, order! Take 
 your seats, both of you, please." 
 
 They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling 
 angrily. The house was profoundly puzzled ; it 
 did not know what to do with this curious emer 
 gency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson 
 s the hatter. He would have liked to be a Nine- 
 teener; but such was not for him: his stock of hats 
 - ot considerable enough for the position. He 
 said : 
 
 Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a 
 suggestion, can both of these gentlemen be right? 
 1 put it to you, sir, can both have happened to say 
 the very same words to the stranger? It seems to 
 me- " 
 
 The tanner got up and interrupted him. The 
 
 tanne 1 was a disgruntled man; he believed himself 
 
 enti I to be a Nineteener, but he couldn t get 
 
 ition. It made him a little unpleasant in his 
 
 ways nd speech. Said he : 
 
 Sao, thafs not the point ! That could happen 
 
 -twice in a hundred years but not the other 
 
 thin^. Neither of them gave the twenty dollars !" 
 
 > ipple of applause. ] 
 Bill son. "/did!" 
 
50 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 Wilson, "/did! " 
 
 Then each accused the other of pilfering. 
 
 The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please 
 -both of you. Neither of the notes has been out 
 of my possession at any moment." 
 
 A Voice. Good that settles that ! " 
 
 The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now 
 plain : one of these men has been eavesdropping un 
 der the other one s bed, and filching family secrets. 
 If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will re 
 mark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. Order ! 
 order ! "] I withdraw the remark, sir, and will con 
 fine myself to suggesting that if one of them has 
 overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his 
 wife, we shall catch him now." 
 
 A Voice. "How?" 
 
 The Tanner. ll Easily. The two have not 
 quoted the remark in exactly the same words. You 
 would have noticed that, if there hadn t been a con 
 siderable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel in 
 serted between the two readings." 
 
 A Voice. " Name the difference." 
 
 The Tanner. "The word very is in Billson s 
 note, and not in the other." 
 
 Many Voices. That s so he s right ! 
 
 The Tanner. " And so, if the Chair will examine 
 the test-remark in the sack, we shall know which of 
 these two frauds \The Chair. "Order!"] 
 which of these two adventurers \Thc Chair. 
 * * Order ! order ! " ] which of these two gentlemen 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg si 
 
 \JaugJiter and applause\ is entitled to wear the 
 belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite ever 
 bred in this town which he has dishonored, and 
 which will be a sultry place for him from now out!" 
 [ Vigorous applause. ] 
 
 Many Voices. Open it ! open the sack ! 
 
 Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand 
 in and brought out an envelope. In it were a 
 couple of folded notes. He said: 
 
 " One of these is marked, Not to be examined 
 
 until all written communications which have been 
 
 aci<ir ssed to the Chair if any shall have been 
 
 The other is marked The Test. Allow 
 
 It is worded to wit: 
 
 I do not require that the first half of the re 
 mark which was made to me by my benefactor shall 
 be quoted with exactness, for it was not striking, 
 and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words 
 are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable ; 
 un!< these shall be accurately reproduced, let the 
 apj ant be regarded as an impostor. My bene- 
 began by saying he seldom gave advice to any 
 one. )ut that it always bore the hall-mark of high 
 e when he did give it. Then he said this and 
 it has never faded from my memory : " You are far 
 from being a bad man " 
 
 Fifty Voices. "That settles it the money s 
 Wilson s ! Wilson ! Wilson ! Speech ! Speech ! 
 
 People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, 
 wringing his hand and congratulating fervently 
 
52 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 meantime the Chair was hammering with the gavel 
 and shouting: 
 
 " Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me 
 finish reading, please." When quiet was restored, 
 the reading was resumed as follows : 
 
 " " Go, and reform or, mark my words some 
 day, for your sins, yon will die and go to hell or Had- 
 
 A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud 
 began to settle darkly upon the faces of the citizen 
 ship ; after a pause the cloud began to rise, and a 
 tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so 
 hard that it was only kept under with great and 
 painful difficulty; the reporters, the Brixtonites, 
 and other strangers bent their heads down and 
 shielded their faces with their hands, and managed 
 to hold in by main strength and heroic courtesy. 
 At this most inopportune time burst upon the still 
 ness the roar of a solitary voice Jack Halliday s: 
 
 " That s got the hall-mark on it ! " 
 
 Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even 
 Mr. Burgess s gravity broke down presently, then 
 the audience considered itself officially absolved from 
 all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. 
 It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously 
 whole-hearted one, but it ceased at last long 
 enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for 
 the people to get their eyes partially wiped ; then it 
 broke out again; and afterward yet again; then at 
 last Burgess was able to get out these serious words: 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 53 
 
 " It is useless to try to disguise the fact we find 
 ourselves in the presence of a matter of grave import. 
 It involves the honor of your town, it strikes at the 
 town s good name. The difference of a single word 
 bet\veen the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and 
 Mr. Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indi 
 cated that one or the other of these gentlemen had 
 committed a theft " 
 
 The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed ; 
 but at these words both were electrified into move 
 ment, and started to get up 
 
 "Sit down! " said the Chair, sharply, and they 
 obeyed. That, as I have said, was a serious thing. 
 And it was but for only one of them. But the 
 matter has become graver; for the honor of both is 
 p^rP Shall I go even further, 
 
 and say in inextricable peril? Both left out the 
 crucial fifteen words." He paused. During several 
 moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather 
 and deepen its impressive effects, then added : 
 There would seem to be but one way whereby this 
 could happen. I ask these gentlemen Was there 
 collusion ? agreement ? 
 
 A low murmur sifted through the house ; its im 
 port was, " He s got them both." 
 
 Billson was not used to emergencies ; he sat in a 
 helpless collapse. But Wilson was a lawyer. He 
 struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and said: 
 
 " I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain 
 this most painful matter. I am sorry to say what I 
 
54 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 am about to say, since it must inflict irreparable in 
 jury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed 
 and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability 
 to temptation I entirely believed as did you all. 
 But for the preservation of my own honor I must 
 speak and with frankness. I confess with shame 
 and I now beseech your pardon for it that I 
 said to the ruined stranger all of the words con 
 tained in the test-remark, including the disparaging 
 fifteen. \SensationJ\ -When the late publication 
 was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim 
 the sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to 
 it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, and 
 weigh it well: that stranger s gratitude to me that 
 night knew no bounds ; he said himself that he could 
 find no words for it that were adequate, and that if 
 he should ever be able he would repay me a thou 
 sand fold. Now, then, I ask you this: Could I ex 
 pect could I believe could I even remotely 
 imagine that, feeling as he did, he would do so 
 ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary 
 fifteen words to his test? set a trap for me? 
 expose me as a slanderer of my own town before my 
 own people assembled in a public hall? It was pre 
 posterous; it was impossible. His test would con 
 tain only the kindly opening clause of my remark. 
 Of that I had no shadow of doubt. You would 
 have thought as I did. You would not have ex 
 pected a base betrayal from one whom you had be 
 friended and against whom you had committed no 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 55 
 
 fense. And so, with perfect confidence, perfect 
 t* jst, I wrote on a piece of paper the opening words 
 
 -ending with Go, and reform, and signed it. 
 
 1 hen I was about to put it in an envelope I was 
 
 died into my back office, and without thinking I 
 
 < :t the paper lying open on my desk." He 
 
 opped, turned his head slowly toward Billson, 
 
 lited a moment, then added: " I ask you to note 
 this: when I returned, a little later, Mr. Billson was 
 retiring by my street door." [Sensation. ] 
 
 In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: 
 
 41 It s a lie ! It s an infamous lie ! " 
 
 The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has 
 tie floor." 
 
 Billson s friends pulled him. into his seat and 
 i lieted him, and Wilson went on: 
 
 " Those are the simple facts. My note was now 
 iving in a different place on the table from where I 
 nad left it. I noticed that, but attached no import- 
 . .ce to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. 
 
 lat Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a 
 i ing which could not occur to me ; he was an 
 morable man, and he would be above that. If 
 \ >u will allow me to say it, I think his extra word: 
 cry stands explained ; it is attributable to a defect 1 
 of memory. I was the only man in the world who 
 could furnish here any detail of the test-remark by 
 honorable means. I have finished." 
 
 There is nothing in the world like a persuasive 
 -peech to fuddle the mental apparatus and upset the 
 
56 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 convictions and debauch the emotions of an audience 
 not practiced in the tricks and delusions of oratory. 
 Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged 
 him in tides of approving applause ; friends swarmed 
 to him and shook him by the hand and congratu 
 lated him, and Billson was shouted down and not 
 allowed to say a word. The Chair hammered and 
 hammered with its gavel, and kept shouting, 
 
 11 But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed ! " 
 
 At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, 
 and the hatter said : 
 
 " But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to de 
 liver the money? " 
 
 Voices. "That s it! That s it! Come forward, 
 Wilson!" 
 
 The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. 
 Wilson, Symbol of the special virtue which 
 
 The cheers burst forth before he could finish ; and 
 in the midst of them and in the midst of the 
 clamor of the gavel also some enthusiasts mounted 
 Wilson on a big friend s shoulder and were going to 
 fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair s 
 voice now rose above the noise 
 
 "Order! To your places! You forget that 
 there is still a document to be read." When quiet 
 had been restored he took up the document, and 
 was going to read it, but laid it down again, saying, 
 "I forgot; this is not to be read until all written 
 communications received by me have first been 
 read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg S7 
 
 removed its enclosure, glanced at it seemed 
 astonished held it out and gazed at it stared 
 at it. 
 
 Twenty or thirty voices cried out : 
 
 11 What is it? Read it ! read it ! " 
 
 And he did slowly, and wondering: 
 
 The remark which I made to the stranger 
 [ Voices. Hello ! how s this ? " ] was this : 
 You are far from being a bad man. [ Voices. 
 "Great Scott!"] Go, and reform. " [Voice. 
 " Oh, saw my leg off! "] Signed by Mr. Pinker- 
 ton the banker." 
 
 The pandemonium of delight which turned itself 
 loose now was of a sort to make the judicious weep. 
 Those whose withers were unwrung laughed till the 
 tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, 
 set down disordered pot-hooks which would never 
 in the world be decipherable ; and a sleeping dog 
 jumped up, scared out of its wits, and barked itself 
 crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scat 
 tered through the din: "We re getting rich two 
 Symbols of Incorruptibility! without counting 
 Billson ! " 4 Three ! count Shadbelly in we 
 can t have too many!" "All right Ellison s 
 elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson victim of two 
 thieves!" 
 
 * A" Powerful Voice. Silence ! The Chair s 
 fished up something more out of its pocket." 
 
 Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read 
 it ! read ! read ! 
 
5 8 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 The Chair \reading.~\ * The remark which I 
 
 made/ etc. : " You are far from being a bad man. 
 Go," etc. Signed, " Gregory Yates." " 
 
 Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" " Rah 
 for Yates!" " Fish again ! " 
 
 The house was in a roaring humor now, and ready 
 to get all the fun out of the occasion that might be 
 in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale and dis 
 tressed, got up and began to work their way toward 
 the aisles, but a score of shouts went up : 
 
 "The doors, the doors close the doors; njn_- 
 corruptible shall leave this, place ! Sit down, every 
 body !" 
 
 The mandate was obeyed. 
 
 " Fish again ! Read ! read ! " 
 
 The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar 
 words began to fall from its lips " You are far 
 from being a bad man 
 
 " Name ! name ! What s his name? " 
 
 " L. Ingoldsby Sargent. " 
 
 "Five elected! Pile up the Symbols ! Go on, 
 go on ! " 
 
 * * You are far from being a bad 
 
 "Name! name!" 
 
 " Nicholas Whitworth. " 
 
 " Hooray ! hooray ! it s a symbolical day ! " 
 
 Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme 
 (leaving out " it s ") to the lovely " Mikado " tune 
 of "When a man s afraid, a beautiful maid "; 
 the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, 
 somebody contributed another line 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 59 
 
 " And don t you this forget " 
 
 The house roared it out. A third line was at once 
 furnished 
 
 " Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are " ^ 
 
 The house roared that one too. As the last note 
 died, Jack Halliday s voice rose high and clear, 
 freighted with a final line 
 
 " But the Symbols are here, you bet ! " / 
 
 That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the 
 happy house started in at the beginning and sang 
 the four lines through twice, with immense swing 
 and dash, and finished up with a crashing three- 
 times-three and a tiger for " Hadleyburg the Incor 
 ruptible and all Symbols of it which we shall find 
 worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night." 
 
 Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all 
 over the place : 
 
 "Go on! go on! Read! read some more! 
 Read all you ve got! " 
 
 That s it go on! We are winning eternal 
 celebrity ! " 
 
 A dozen men got up now and began to protest 
 They said that this farce was the work of som 
 abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole 
 community. Without a doubt these signatures were 
 all forgeries 
 
 " Sit down ! sit down ! Shut up ! \"ou are con 
 fessing. We ll find your names in the lot." 
 
60 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 " Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes 
 have you got ? 
 
 The Chair counted. 
 
 Together with those that have been already ex 
 amined, there are nineteen." 
 
 A storm of derisive applause broke out. 
 
 " Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move 
 that you open them all and read every signature that 
 is attached to a note of that sort and read also the 
 first eight words of the note." 
 
 14 Second the motion ! " 
 
 It was put and carried uproariously. Then 
 poor old Richards got up, and his wife rose and 
 stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that 
 none might see that she was crying. Her husband 
 gave her his arm, and so supporting her, he began 
 to speak in a quavering voice : 
 
 "My friends, you have known us two Mary 
 and me all our lives, and I think you have liked 
 us and respected us 
 
 The Chair interrupted him : 
 
 "Allow me. It is quite true that which you 
 are saying, Mr. Richards : this town does know you 
 two ; it does like you ; it does respect you ; more 
 it honors you and loves you ; 
 
 Halliday s voice rang out: 
 
 11 That s the hall-marked truth, too ! If the Chair 
 is right, let the house speak up and say it. Rise ! 
 Now, then hip ! hip ! hip ! all together ! " 
 
 The house rose in mass, faced toward the old 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 6t 
 
 couple eagerly, filled the air with a snowstorm of 
 waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers with 
 all its affectionate heart. 
 
 The Chair then continued : 
 
 "What I was going to say is this: We know 
 your good heart, Mr. Richards, but this is not a 
 time for the exeicise of charity toward offenders. 
 [Shouts of "Right ! rigJit ! "] I see your generous 
 purpose in your face, but I cannot allow you to 
 plead for these men 
 
 * But I was going to " 
 
 11 Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must 
 examine the rest of these notes simple fairness to 
 the men who have already been exposed requires 
 this. As soon as that has been done I give you 
 my word for this you shall be heard." 
 
 Many Voices. * Right ! the Chair is right no 
 interruption can be permitted at this stage ! Go on ! 
 the names ! the names ! according to the terms 
 of the motion ! " 
 
 The Old couple sat reluctantly down, and the hus 
 band whispered to the wife, "It is pitifully hard to 
 have to wait; the shame will be greater than ever 
 when they find we were only going to plead for 
 ourselves" 
 
 Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the 
 reading of the names. 
 
 11 You are far from being a bad man Sig 
 nature, Robert J. Titmarsh. 
 
 " You are far from being a bad man Sig 
 nature, 4 Eliphalet Weeks. 
 
62 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 " * You are far from being a bad man Sig 
 nature, Oscar B. Wilder. " 
 
 At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking 
 the eight words out of the Chairman s hands. He 
 was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward he 
 held up each note in its turn, and waited. The 
 house droned out the eight words in a massed and 
 measured and musical deep volume of sound (with a 
 daringly close resemblance to a well-known church 
 chant) " You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d 
 man. Then the Chair said, " Signature, Archi- 
 .bald Wilcox. And so on, and so on, name after 
 name, and everybody had an increasingly and glori 
 ously good time except the wretched Nineteen. 
 Now and then, when a particularly shining name 
 was called, the house made the Chair wait while it 
 chanted the whole of the test-remark from the be 
 ginning to the closing words, "And go to hell or 
 Hadleyburg try and make it the for-or-m-e-r ! " 
 and in these special cases they added a grand and 
 agonized and imposing " A-a-a-a-men / " 
 
 The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old 
 Richards keeping tally of the count, wincing when a 
 name resembling his own was pronounced, and wait 
 ing in miserable suspense for the time to come when 
 it would be his humiliating privilege to rise with 
 Mary and finish his plea, which he was intending to 
 word thus: " . . . for until now we have never 
 done any wrong thing, but have gone our humble 
 way unreproached. We are very poor, we are old, 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 63 
 
 and have no chick nor child to help us; we were 
 sorely tempted, and we fell. It was my purpose 
 when I got up before to make confession and beg 
 that my name might not be read out in this public 
 place, for it seemed to us that we could not bear it; 
 but I was prevented. It was just; it was our place 
 to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. It 
 is the first time we have ever heard our name fall 
 from any one s lips sullied. Be merciful for 
 the sake of the better days ; make our shame as 
 light to bear as in your charity you can." At this 
 point in his revery Mary nudged him, perceiving 
 that his mind was absent. The house was chant 
 ing, "You are f-a-r," etc. 
 
 "Be ready," Mary whispered. Your name 
 comes now; he has read eighteen/ 
 
 The chant ended. 
 
 "Next! next! next!" came volleying from all 
 over the house. 
 
 Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old 
 couple, trembling, began to rise. Burgess fumbled 
 a moment, then said, 
 
 " I find I have read them all." 
 
 Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into 
 their scats, and Mary whispered, 
 
 " Oh, bless God, we are saved ! he has lost ours 
 I wouldn t give this for a hundred of those 
 sacks!" 
 
 The house burst out with its " Mikado " travesty, 
 and sang it three times with ever-increasing enthu 
 
b4 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 siasm, rising to its feet when it reached for the third 
 time the closing line 
 
 " But the Symbols are here, you bet ! " 
 
 and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for " Had- 
 leyburg purity and our eighteen immortal representa 
 tives of it." 
 
 Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed 
 cheers " for the cleanest man in town, the one soli 
 tary important citizen in it who didn t try to steal 
 that money Edward Richards." 
 
 They were given with great and moving hearti 
 ness; then somebody proposed that Richards be 
 elected sole guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred 
 Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand 
 up and look the whole sarcastic world in the face. 
 
 Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the 
 11 Mikado " again, and ended it with, 
 
 " And there s one Symbol left, you bet ! " 
 
 There was a pause ; then 
 
 A Voice. * Now, then, who s to get the sack? " 
 The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm}. That s easy. 
 The money has to be divided among the eighteen 
 Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering stranger 
 twenty dollars apiece and that remark each in 
 his turn it took twenty-two minutes for the pro 
 cession to move past. Staked the stranger total 
 contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan 
 back and interest forty thousand dollars alto- 
 gether." 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 65 
 
 Many Voices \ derisively.^ * That s it ! Divvy ! 
 divvy! Be kind to the poor don t keep them 
 waiting! " 
 
 The Chair. " Order! I now offer the stranger s 
 remaining document. It says : * If no claimant 
 shall appear [grand cJwt us of groans^, I desire that 
 you open the sack and count out the money to the 
 principal citizens of your town, they to take it in 
 trust [cnes of" Ok! Ok ! <?///"], and use it in such 
 ways as to them shall seem best for the propagation 
 and preservation of your community s noble reputa 
 tion for incorruptible honesty \jnore cries ] a repu 
 tation to which their names and their efforts will add 
 a new and far-reaching lustre. \Enthusiastic out 
 burst of sarcastic applause. ~\ That seems to be all. 
 No here is a postscript : 
 
 " P. S. CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There is 
 no test- remark nobody made one. \_Great sen 
 sation^ There wasn t any pauper stranger, nor any 
 twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying 
 benediction and compliment these are all inven 
 tions. \_General buzz and hum of astonishment and 
 delight, .] Allow me to tell my story it will take 
 but a word or two. I passed through your town at 
 a certain time, and received a deep offense which I 
 had not earned. Any other man would have been 
 content to kill one or two of you and call it square, 
 but to me that would have been a trivial revenge, 
 and inadequate; for the dead do not suffer. Be 
 sides, I could not kill you all and, anyway, made 
 
n : 
 // 
 
 66 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 as I am, even that would not have satisfied me. I 
 wanted to damage every man in the place, and every 
 woman and not in their bodies or in their estate, 
 but in their vanity the place where feeble and 
 flbolish people are most vulnerable. TSo I disguised 
 myself and came back and studied you. You were 
 asy game. You had an old and lofty reputation 
 for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it 
 it was your treasure of treasures, the very apple of 
 your eye. As soon as I found out that you care 
 fully and vigilantly kept yourselves and your children 
 out of temptation, I knew how to proceed. Why, 
 you simple creatures, ***> v^oi^ o f ? i] w ^ a fc thirjr 
 is ajvirtue which has not hecr) test-eH jn th^ r fire I 
 laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My pro 
 ject was to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. 
 My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly 
 half a hundred smirchless men and women who had 
 never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. 
 I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor 
 reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started 
 to operate my scheme by getting my letter laid be 
 fore you, you would say to yourselves, " Goodson 
 is the only man among us who would give away 
 twenty dollars to a poor devil and then you 
 might not bite at my bait. But Heaven took Good- 
 son; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and 
 baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all the 
 men to whom I mailed the pretended test secret, but 
 I shall catch the most of them, if I know Hadley- 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 67 
 
 burg nature. [ Voices. " Right he got every last 
 one of them."] I believe they will even steal osten- 
 sible gamble-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, 
 and mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally 
 and everlastingly squelch your vanity and give Had 
 leyburg a new renown one that will stick and 
 spread far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and 
 summon the Committee on Propagation and Preser 
 vation of the Hadleyburg Reputation. 
 
 A Cyclone of Voices. Open it ! Open it ! The 
 Eighteen to the front ! Committee on Propagation 
 of the Tradition ! Forward the Incorruptibles ! " 
 
 The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up 
 a handful of bright, broad, yellow coins, shook them 
 together, then examined them 
 
 " Friends, they are only gilcled disks of .lead ! " 
 
 There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this 
 news, and when the noise had subsided, the tanner 
 called out: 
 
 " By right of apparent seniority in this business, 
 Mr. Wilson is Chairman of the Committee on Prop 
 agation of the Tradition. I suggest that he step for 
 ward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the 
 money." 
 
 A Hundred Voices. " Wilson ! Wilson ! Wilson ! 
 Speech! Speech!" 
 
 Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger."] " You 
 will allow me to say, and without apologies for my 
 language, damn the money! " 
 
 A Voice. " Oh, and him a Baptist! " 
 
68 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, 
 gentlemen, and assume your trust! " 
 
 There was a pause no response. 
 
 The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we ve got one 
 clean man left, anyway, out of the late aristocracy ; 
 and he needs money, and deserves it. I move that 
 you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and 
 auction off that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and 
 give the result to the right man the man whom 
 Hadleyburg delights to honor Edward Richards." 
 
 This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog 
 taking a hand again ; the saddler started the bids at 
 a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum s representa 
 tive fought hard for it, the people cheered every 
 jump that the bids made, the excitement climbed 
 moment by moment higher and higher, the bidders 
 got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more 
 daring, more and more determined, the jumps went 
 from a dollar up to five, then to ten, then to twenty, 
 then fifty, then to a hundred, then 
 
 At the beginning of the auction Richards whis 
 pered in distress to his wife: "O Mary, can we 
 allow it? It it you see, it is an honor-reward, a 
 testimonial to purity of character, and and can 
 we allow it? Hadn t I better get up and O 
 Mary, what ought we to do ? what do you think 
 we \Halliday* s voice. "Fifteen I m bid ! fif 
 teen for the sack ! twenty ! ah, thanks ! thirty 
 thanks again ! Thirty, thirty, thirty ! do I hear 
 forty ? forty it is ! Keep the ball rolling, gentle- 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 69 
 
 men, keep it rolling ! fifty ! thanks, noble Roman! 
 going at fifty, fifty, fifty ! seventy ! ninety ! 
 splendid! a hundred! pile it up, pile it up! 
 hundred and tiventy forty ! just in time ! hun 
 dred and fifty ! TWO hundred ! superb ! Do 1 
 hear two h thanks ! two hundred and fifty ! "] 
 " It is another temptation, Edward I m all in a 
 tremble but, oh, we ve -escaped one temptation, 
 and that ought to warn us to - [" Six did I hear ? 
 
 thanks ! six fifty, six f SEVEN hundred / "] 
 And yet, Edward, when you think nobody susp 
 ^ Eight hundred dollars ! hurrah ! make it nine ! 
 
 Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say thanks nine / 
 
 this noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine 
 hundred dollars, gilding and all come! do I hear 
 a thousand ! gratefully yours ! did some one say 
 eleven? a sack which is going to be the most cele 
 brated in the whole Uni"~\ O Edward" (begin 
 ning to sob) , * we are so poor ! but but do as 
 you think best do as you think best." 
 
 Edward fell that is, he sat still; sat with a con 
 science which was not satisfied, but which was over 
 powered by circumstances. 
 
 Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur 
 detective gotten up as an impossible English earl, 
 had been watching the evening s proceedings with 
 manifest interest, and with a contented expression 
 in his face ; and he had been privately commenting 
 to himself. He was now soliloquizing somewhat 
 Uke this: "None of the Eighteen are bidding; 
 
70 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 that is not satisfactory; I must change that the 
 dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack 
 they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price, 
 too some of them are rich. And another thing, 
 when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the 
 man that puts that error upon me is entitled to a 
 high honorarium, and some one must pay it. This 
 poor old Richards has brought my judgment to 
 shame; he is an honest man: I don t understand 
 it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces 
 and with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. 
 And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. 
 He disappointed me, but let that pass." 
 
 He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, 
 the market broke ; the prices tumbled swiftly. He 
 waited and still watched. One competitor dropped 
 out; then another, and another. He put in a bid 
 or two, now. When the bids had sunk to ten dol 
 lars, he added a five; some one raised him a three; 
 he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar 
 jump, and the sack was his at $1,282. The 
 house broke out in cheers then stopped ; for he 
 was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began 
 to speak. 
 
 " I desire to say a word, and ask a favor. I am a 
 speculator in rarities, and I have dealings with per 
 sons interested in numismatics all over the world. I 
 can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands; 
 but there is a way, if I can get your approval, 
 whereby I can make every one of these leader 
 
The Man tiat Corrupted Hadleyburg 71 
 
 twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, and per 
 haps more. Grant Tie that approval, and I will give 
 part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose in 
 vulnerable probity you have so justly and so cordially 
 recognized to-night ; his share shall be ten thousand 
 dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow, i 
 \_Grcat applause from the house. But the " invulner 
 able probity made tire Richardses blush prettily ; 
 however, it went for n odesty, and did no harm.] 
 If you will pass my proposition by a good majority 
 I would like a two-thirds vote I will regard that 
 as the town s consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities 
 are always helped by any device which will rouse 
 curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have 
 your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of 
 these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gen 
 tlemen who 
 
 Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in 
 a moment dog and all -and the proposition was 
 carried with a whirlwind of approving applause and 
 laughter. 
 
 They sat down, and all the Symbols except " Dr." 
 Clay Harkness got up, violently protesting against 
 the proposed outrage, and threatening to 
 
 " I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger, 
 calmly. " I know my legal rights, and am not ac 
 customed to being frightened at bluster. \_Applausc.~\ 
 He sat down. " Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity 
 here. He was one of the two very rich men of the 
 place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was 
 
72 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent 
 medicine. He was running for the Legislature on 
 one ticket, and Pinkerton on tie other. It was a 
 close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every 
 day. Both had strong appetites for money; each 
 had bought a great tract of Ir.nd, with a purpose; 
 there was going to be a ne w railway, and each 
 wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the 
 route to his own advantag 3 ; a single vote might 
 make the decision, and with it two or three fortunes. 
 The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring 
 speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. 
 He leaned over while one or another of the other 
 Symbols was entertaining the house with protests 
 and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, 
 
 " What is your price for the sack? " 
 
 " Forty thousand dollars." 
 
 " I ll give you twenty." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Twenty-five." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Say thirty." 
 
 * The price is forty thousand dollars ; not a penny 
 less." 
 
 " All right, I ll give it. I will come to the hotel 
 at ten in the morning. I don t want it known; will 
 see you privately." 
 
 Very good." Then the stranger got up and 
 said to the house : 
 
 " I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 73 
 
 are not without merit, not without interest, not with 
 out grace ; yet if I may be excused I will take my 
 leave. I thank you for the great favor which you 
 have shown me in granting my petition. I ask the 
 Chair to keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and 
 to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. 
 Richards." They were passed up to the Chair. 
 " At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will 
 deliver the rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards 
 in person, at his home. Good night." 
 
 Then he slipped out, and left the audience making 
 a vast noise, which was composed of a mixture of 
 cheers, the "Mikado" ,song, dog-disapproval, and 
 the chant, " You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man 
 a-a-a a-men ! " 
 
 IV 
 
 At home the Richardses had to endure congratu 
 lations and compliments until midnight. Then they 
 were left to themselves. They looked a little sad, 
 and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary 
 sighed and said, 
 
 " Do you think we are to blame, Edward much 
 to blame ? and her eyes wandered to the accusing 
 triplet of big bank notes lying on the table, where 
 the congratulators had been gloating over them and 
 reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer 
 at once; then he brought out a sigh and said, 
 hesitatingly : 
 
 "We we couldn t help it, Mary. It well, it 
 was ordered. All things are." 
 
74 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but 
 he didn t return the look. Presently she said: 
 
 "I thought congratulations and praises always 
 tasted good. But it seems to me, now 
 Edward?" 
 
 44 Well?" 
 
 44 Are you going to stay in the bank? M 
 
 "N-no." 
 
 "Resign?" 
 
 44 In the morning by note." 
 
 44 It does seem best." 
 
 Richards bowed his head in his hands and 
 muttered : 
 
 4 Before, I was not afraid to let oceans of peo 
 ple s money pour through my hands, but Mary, 
 I am so tired, so tired " 
 
 44 We will go to bed." 
 
 At nine in the morning the stranger called for the 
 sack and took it to the hotel in a cab. At ten Hark- 
 ness had a talk with him privately. The stranger 
 asked for and got five checks on a metropolitan bank 
 drawn to 44 Bearer," four for $1,500 each, and 
 one for $34,000. He put one of the former in his 
 pocketbook, and the remainder, representing $38,- 
 500, he put in an envelope, and with these he added 
 a note, which he wrote after Harkness was gone. 
 At eleven he called at the Richards house and 
 knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shut 
 ters, then went and received the envelope, and the 
 stranger disappeared without a word. She came 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 75 
 
 back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and 
 gasped out: 
 
 "I am sure I recognized him! Last night it 
 seemed to me that maybe I had seen him some 
 where before." 
 
 " He is the man that brought the sack here? " 
 
 " I am almost sure of it." 
 
 Then he is the ostensible Stephcnson, too, and 
 sold every important citizen in this town with his 
 bogus secret. Now if he has sent checks instead of 
 money, we are sold, too, after we thought we had 
 escaped. I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable 
 once more, after my night s rest, but the look of! 
 that envelope makes me sick. It isn t fat enough ; 
 $8,500 in even the largest bank notes makes more 
 bulk than that." 
 
 " Edward, why do you object to checks? " 
 
 "Checks signed by Stcphenson ! I am resigned 
 to take the $8,500 if it could come in bank 
 notes for it does seem that it was so ordered, 
 Mary but I have never had much courage, and I 
 have not the pluck to try to market a check signed 
 with that disastrous name. It would be a trap. 
 That man tried to catch me ; we escaped somehow 
 or other ; and now he is trying a new way. If it is; 
 checks" 
 
 " Oh, Edward, it is too bad! " and she held upj 
 the checks and began to cry. 
 
 "Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn t be 
 tempted. It is a trick to make the world laugh at 
 
76 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 j, along with the rest, and Give them to me> 
 since you can t do it!" He snatched them and 
 tried to hold his grip till he could get to the stove ; 
 but he was human, he was a cashier, and he stopped 
 a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he 
 came near to fainting. 
 
 " Fan me, Mary, fan me ! They are the same as 
 gold!" 
 
 " Oh, how lovely, Edward ! Why? " 
 
 * Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of 
 that be, Mary?" 
 
 11 Edward, do you think " 
 
 1 Look here look at this ! Fifteen fifteen 
 fifteen thirty-four. Thirty-eight thousand five 
 hundred! Mary, the sack isn t worth twelve dol 
 lars, and Harkness apparently has paid about 
 par for it." 
 
 1" And does it all come to us, do you think in- 
 ead of the ten thousand? " 
 
 | " Why, it looks like it. And the checks are made 
 to Bearer/ too." 
 
 " Is that good, Edward? What is it for? " 
 "A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I 
 reckon. Perhaps Harkness doesn t want the matter 
 known. What is that a note? " 
 " Yes. It was with the checks." 
 It was in the " Stephenson " handwriting, but 
 there was no signature. It said : 
 
 " I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach oj 
 temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in that, 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 77 
 
 and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honor you and thai is 1 
 sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your garment. 
 Dear sir, I made a square bet "with myself that there were nineteen 
 debauchable men in your self-r^ghteo^ts community. I have lost. Take 
 the whole pot, you are entitled to it. " 
 
 Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: 
 
 14 It seems written with fire it burns so. Mary 
 
 I am miserable again." 
 
 41 I, too. Ah, dear, I wish " 
 
 44 To think, Mary he believes in me." 
 
 44 Oh, don t, Edward I can t bear it." 
 
 44 If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary 
 
 and God knows I believed I deserved them once 
 
 I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for 
 them. And I would put that paper away, as repre 
 senting more than gold and jewels, and keep it 
 always. But now We could not live in the 
 shadow of its accusing presence, Mary." 
 
 He put it in the fire. 
 
 A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. 
 Richards took from it a note and read it ; it was 
 from Burgess. 
 
 " You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It 
 was at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a grate 
 ful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how brave 
 and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, know 
 ing as y ou do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the general 
 voice condemned ; but I beg that you will at least believe that I am a 
 grateful man ; it will help me to bear my burden. 
 
 [Signed} " BURGESS." 
 
 44 Saved, once more. And on such terms ! " He 
 
78 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 put the note in the fire. "I I wish I were dead, 
 Mary, I wish I were out of it all." 
 
 " Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The 
 stabs, through their very generosity, are so deep 
 and they come so fast !" 
 
 Three days before the election each of two thou 
 sand voters suddenly found himself in possession of 
 a prized memento one of the renowned bogus 
 double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped 
 these words: "THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR 
 
 STRANGER WAS " Around the other face was 
 stamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] 
 PINKERTON." Thus the entire remaining refuse of 
 the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, 
 and with calamitous effect. It revived the recent 
 vast laugh and concentrated it upon Pinkerton ; and 
 Harkness s election was a walkover. 
 
 Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had 
 received their checks their consciences were quieting 
 down, discouraged ; the old couple were learning to 
 \ reconcile themselves to the sin which they had com 
 mitted. But they were to learn, now, that a sin 
 takes on new and real terrors when there seems a 
 chance that it is going to be found out. This gives 
 it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. 
 At church the morning sermon was of the usual 
 pattern ; it was the same old things said in the same 
 old way ; they had heard them a thousand times and 
 found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and 
 easy to sleep under ; but now it was different : the 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 79 
 
 sermon seemed to bristle with accusations ; it seemed 
 aimed straight and specially at people who were con 
 cealing deadly sins. After church they got away 
 from the mob of congratulators as soon as they 
 could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at 
 they did not know what vague, shadowy, indefi 
 nite fears. And by chance they caught a glimpse of 
 Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no 
 attention to their nod of recognition ! He hadn t 
 seen it ; but they did not know that. What could 
 his conduct mean? It might mean it might mean 
 oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it possible that 
 
 he knew that Richards could have cleared him of 
 
 
 
 guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently 
 waiting for a chance to even up accounts? At 
 home, in their distress they got to imagining that 
 their servant might have been in the next room 
 listening when Richards revealed the secret to his 
 wife that he knew of Burgess s innocence; next, 
 Richards began to imagine that he had heard the 
 swish of a gown in there at that time ; next, he was 
 sure he had heard it. They would call Sarah in, on 
 a pretext, and watch her face : if she had been be 
 traying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her 
 manner. They asked her some questions ques 
 tions which were so random and incoherent and 
 seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the 
 old people s minds had been affected by their sudden 
 good fortune; the sharp and watchful gaze which 
 they bent upon her frightened her, and that com- 
 
80 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 pleted the business. She blushed, she became 
 nervous and confused, and to the old people these 
 were plain signs of guilt guilt of some fearful sort 
 or other without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. 
 When they were alone again they began to piece 
 many unrelated things together and get horrible re 
 sults out of the combination. When things had got 
 about to the worst, Richards was delivered of a sud 
 den gasp, and his wife asked, 
 
 " Oh, what is it? what is it?" 
 
 "The note Burgess s note! Its language was 
 sarcastic, I see it now." He quoted: At bot 
 tom you cannot respect me, knoiving, as you do, of 
 that matter of which I am accused oh, it is per 
 fectly plain, now, God help me ! He knows that I 
 know ! You see the ingenuity of the phrasing. It 
 was a trap and like a fool, I walked into it. And 
 Mary?" 
 
 " Oh, it is dreadful I know what you are going 
 to say he didn t return your transcript of the pre 
 tended test-remark." 
 
 " No kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has 
 exposed us to some already. I know it I know it 
 well. I saw it in a dozen faces after church. Ah, 
 he wouldn t answer our nod of recognition he 
 iknew what he had been doing ! 
 
 In the night the doctor was called. The news 
 went around in the morning that the old couple were 
 rather seriously ill prostrated by the exhausting 
 excitement growing out of their great windfall, the 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 81 
 
 congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. 
 The town was sincerely distressed ; for these old 
 people were about all it had left to be proud of, 
 now. 
 
 Two days later the news was worse. The old 
 couple were delirious, and were doing strange things. 
 By witness of the nurses, Richards had exhibited 
 checks for $8,500? No for an amazing sum 
 - $38,500 ! What could be the explanation of this 
 gigantic piece of luck? 
 
 The following day the nurses had more news 
 and wonderful. They had concluded to hide the 
 checks, lest harm come to them ; but when they 
 searched they were gone from under the patient s 
 pillow vanished away. The patient said : 
 
 14 Let the pillow alone ; what do you want? " 
 
 " We thought it best that the checks " 
 You will never see them again they are de 
 stroyed. They came from Satan. I saw the hell- 
 brand on them, and I knew they were sent to betray 
 me to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and 
 dreadful things which were not clearly understand 
 able, and which the doctor admonished them to keep 
 to themselves. 
 
 Richards was right; the checks were never seen 
 again. 
 
 A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within 
 two days the forbidden gabblings were the property 
 of the town ; and they were of a surprising sort. 
 They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a 
 
82 The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 
 
 c 
 
 laimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had 
 concealed that fact and then maliciously betrayed it. 
 
 Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. 
 And he said it was not fair to attach weight to the 
 chatter of a sick old man who was out of his mind. 
 Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much 
 talk. 
 
 After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. 
 Richards s delirious deliveries were getting to be 
 duplicates of her husband s. Suspicion flamed up 
 into conviction, now, and the town s pride in the 
 purity of its one undiscredited important citizen be 
 gan to dim down and flicker toward extinction. 
 
 Six days passed, then came more news. The old 
 couple were dying. Richards s mind cleared in his 
 latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. Burgess said: 
 
 " Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to 
 say something in privacy." 
 
 "No!" said Richards: "I want witnesses. I 
 want you all to hear my confession, so that I may 
 die a man, and not a dog. I was clean artificially 
 like the rest ; and like the rest I fell when tempta 
 tion came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable 
 sack. Mr. Burgess remembered that I had done 
 him a service, and in gratitude (and ignorance) he 
 suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the 
 thin^ that was charged against Burgess years ago. 
 My testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared 
 him, and I was a coward, and left him to suffer 
 disgrace - 
 
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg 83 
 
 " No no Mr. Richards, you " 
 
 44 My servant betrayed my secret to him M 
 
 " No one has betrayed anything to me " 
 * and then he did a natural and justifiable thing, 
 he repented of the saving kindness which he had 
 done me, and he exposed me as I deserved " 
 
 " Never I I make oath " 
 
 " Out of my heart I forgive him." 
 
 Burgess s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf 
 ears; the dying man passed away without knowing 
 that once more he had done poor Burgess a wrong. 
 The old wife died that night. 
 
 The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey 
 to the fiendish sack; the town was stripped of the 
 last rag of its ancient glory. Its mourning was not 
 showy, but it was deep. 
 
 By act of the Legislature upon prayer and peti 
 tion Hadleyburg was allowed to change its name 
 to (never mind what I will not give it away), and 
 leave one word out of the motto that for many gen 
 erations had graced the town s official seal. 
 
 It is an honest town once more, and the man will 
 have to rise early that catches it napping again. 
 
 pFORMERMOTTcSj 
 
MY DEBUT AS A LITERARY PERSON 
 
 IN those early days I had already published one 
 little thing (" The Jumping Frog") in an East 
 ern paper, but I did not consider that that counted. 
 In my view, a person who published things in a 
 mere newspaper could not properly claim recog 
 nition as a Literary Person : he must rise away 
 above that; he must appear in a magazine. He 
 would then be a Literary Person; also, he would be 
 famous right away. These two ambitions were 
 strong upon me. This was in 1866. I prepared 
 my contribution, and then looked around for the 
 best magazine to go up to glory in. I selected the 
 most important one in New York. The contribu 
 tion was accepted. I signed it " MARK TWAIN"; 
 for that name had some currency on the Pacific 
 coast, and it was my idea to spread it all over the 
 world, now, at this one jump. The article appeared 
 in the December number, and I sat up a month 
 waiting for the January number ; for that one would 
 contain the year s list of contributors, my name 
 would be in it, and I should be famous and could 
 give the banquet I was meditating. 
 
 (84) 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 85 
 
 I did not give the banquet. I had not written the 
 " MARK TWAIN " distinctly; it was a fresh name to 
 Eastern printers, and they put it " Mike Swain " or 
 11 MacSwain," I do not remember which. At any 
 rate, I was not celebrated, and I did not give the 
 banquet. I was a Literary Person, but that was all 
 a buried one ; buried alive. 
 
 My article was about the burning of the clipper- 
 ship Hornet on the line, May 3, 1866. There were 
 thirty-one men on board at the time, and I was in 
 Honolulu when the fifteen lean and ghostly sur 
 vivors arrived there after a voyage of forty-three 
 days in an open boat, through the blazing tropics, 
 on ten days rations of food. A very remarkable 
 trip ; but it was conducted by a captain who was a 
 remarkable man, otherwise there would have been 
 no survivors. He was a New-Englander of the best 
 sea-going stock of the old capable times Captain 
 Josiah Mitchell. 
 
 I was in the islands to write letters for the weekly 
 edition of the Sacramento Union, a rich and in 
 fluential daily journal which hadn t any use for 
 them, but could afford to spend twenty dollars a 
 week for nothing. The proprietors were lovable 
 and well-beloved men: long ago dead, no doubt, 
 but in me there is at least one person who still holds 
 them in grateful remembrance ; for I dearly wanted 
 to see the islands, and they listened to me and gave 
 me the opportunity when there was but slender 
 likelihood that it could profit them in any way. 
 
86 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 I had been in the islands several months when the 
 survivors arrived. I was laid up in my room at the 
 time, and unable to walk. Here was a great occa 
 sion to serve my journal, and I not able to take 
 advantage of it. Necessarily I was in deep trouble. 
 But by good luck his Excellency Anson Burlingame 
 was there at the time, on his way to take up his post 
 in China, where he did such good work for the 
 United States. He came and put me on a stretcher 
 and had me carried to the hospital where the ship 
 wrecked men were, and I never needed to ask a 
 question. He attended to all of that himself, and I 
 had nothing to do but make the notes. It was like 
 him to take that trouble. He was a great man and 
 a great American, and it was in his fine nature to 
 come down from his high office and do a friendly 
 turn whenever he could. 
 
 We got through with this work at six in the even 
 ing. I took no dinner, for there was no time to 
 spare if I would beat the other correspondents. I 
 spent four hours arranging the notes in their proper 
 order, then wrote all night and beyond it ; with this 
 result : that I had a very long and detailed account 
 of the Hornet episode ready at nine in the morning, 
 while the correspondents of the San Francisco 
 journals had nothing but a brief outline report for 
 they did n t sit up. The now-and-then schooner was 
 to sail for San Francisco about nine ; when I reached 
 the dock she was free forward and was just casting 
 off her stern-line, My fat envelope was thrown by 
 
My Dbut as a Literary Person 87 
 
 a strong hand, and fell on board all right, and my 
 victory was a safe thing. All in due time the ship 
 reached San Francisco, but it was my complete re 
 port which made the stir and was telegraphed to the 
 New York papers, by Mr. Cash; he was in charge 
 of the Pacific bureau of the New York Herald at 
 the time. 
 
 When I returned to California by and by, I went 
 up to Sacramento and presented a bill for general 
 correspondence at twenty dollars a week. It was 
 paid. Then I presented a bill for " special " service 
 on the Hornet matter of three columns of solid non 
 pareil at a hundred dollars a column. The cashier 
 didn t faint, but he came rather near it. He sent 
 for the proprietors, and they came and never uttered 
 a protest. They only laughed in their jolly fashion, 
 and said it was robbery, but no matter ; it was a 
 grand "scoop" (the bill or my Hornet report, I 
 didn t know which); "pay it. It s all right." 
 The best men that ever owned a newspaper. 
 
 The Hornet survivors reached the Sandwich 
 Islands the I5th of June. They were mere skinny 
 skeletons ; their clothes hung limp about them and 
 fitted them no better than a flag fits the flagstaff in 
 a calm. But they were well nursed in the hospital ; 
 the people of Honolulu kept them supplied with all 
 the dainties they could need ; they gathered strength 
 fast, and were presently nearly as good as new. 
 Within a fortnight the most of them took ship for 
 San Francisco; that is, if my dates have not gone 
 
88 My Dbut as a Literary Person 
 
 astray in my memory. I went in the same ship, a 
 sailing-vessel. Captain Mitchell of the Hornet was 
 along; also the only passengers the Hornet had 
 carried. These were two young gentlemen from 
 Stamford, Connecticut brothers: Samuel Fergu 
 son, aged twenty-eight, a graduate of Trinity Col 
 lege, Hartford, and Henry Ferguson, aged eighteen, 
 a student of the same college. The elder brother 
 had had some trouble with his lungs, which induced 
 his physician to prescribe a long sea- voyage. This 
 terrible disaster, however, developed the disease 
 which later ended fatally. The younger brother is 
 still living, and is fifty years old this year (1898). 
 The Hornet was a clipper of the first class and 
 a fast sailer; the young men s quarters were roomy 
 and comfortable, and were well stocked with books, 
 and also with canned meats and fruits to help 
 out the ship-fare with ; and when the ship cleared 
 from New York harbor in the first week of Janu 
 ary, there was promise that she would make quick 
 and pleasant work of the fourteen or fifteen thou 
 sand miles in front of her. As soon as the cold 
 latitudes were left behind and the vessel entered 
 summer weather, the voyage became a holiday 
 picnic. The ship flew southward under a cloud of 
 sail which needed no attention, no modifying or 
 change of any kind, for days together. The young 
 men read, strolled the ample deck, rested and 
 drowsed in the shade of the canvas, took their meals 
 with the captain, and when the day was done they 
 
My Dbut as a Literary Person 89 
 
 played dummy whist with him till bedtime. After 
 the snow and ice and tempests of the Horn, the ship 
 bowled northward into summer weather again, and 
 the trip was a picnic once more. 
 
 Until the early morning of the 3d of May. Com 
 puted position of the ship 112 10 west longitude; 
 latitude 2 above the equator; no wind, no sea 
 dead calm; temperature of the atmosphere, tropical, 
 blistering, unimaginable by one who has not been 
 roasted in it. There was a cry of fire. An un 
 faithful sailor had disobeyed the rules and gone into 
 the booby-hatch with an open light to draw some 
 varnish from a cask. The proper result followed, 
 and the vessel s hours were numbered. 
 
 There was not much time to spare, but the cap 
 tain made the most of it. The three boats were 
 launched long-boat and two quarter-boats. That 
 the time was very short and the hurry and excite 
 ment considerable is indicated by the fact that in 
 launching the boats a hole was stove in the side of 
 one of them by some sort of collision, and an oar 
 driven through the side of another. The captain s 
 first care was to have four sick sailors brought up 
 and placed on deck out of harm s way among 
 them a ** Portyghee." This man had not done a 
 day s work on the voyage, but had lain in his ham 
 mock four months nursing an abscess. When we 
 were taking notes in the Honolulu hospital and a 
 sailor told this to Mr. Burlingame, the third mate, 
 who was lying near, raised his head with an effort, 
 
90 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 and in a weak voice made this correction with 
 solemnity and feeling : 
 
 " Raising abscesses ! He had a family of them. 
 He done it to keep from standing his watch." 
 
 Any provisions that lay handy were gathered up 
 by the men and the two passengers and brought and 
 dumped on the deck where the " Portyghee " lay; 
 then they ran for more. The sailor who was telling 
 this to Mr. Burlingame added : 
 
 l< We pulled together thirty- two days rations for 
 the thirty- one men that way." 
 
 The third mate lifted his head again and made 
 another correction with bitterness : 
 
 1 The Portyghee et twenty-two of them while he 
 was soldiering there and nobody noticing. A 
 damned hound." 
 
 The fire spread with great rapidity. The smoke 
 and flame drove the men back, and they had to stop 
 their incomplete work of fetching provisions, and 
 take to the boats with only ten days rations 
 secured. 
 
 Each boat had a compass, a quadrant, a copy 
 of Bowditch s Navigator, and a nautical almanac, 
 and the captain s and chief mate s boats had chro 
 nometers. There were thirty-one men all told. 
 The captain took an account of stock, with the 
 following result: four hams, nearly thirty pounds 
 of salt pork, half-box of raisins, one hundred 
 pounds of bread, twelve two-pound cans of oysters, 
 clams, and assorted meats, a keg containing fcHii 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 91 
 
 pounds of butter, twelve gallons of water in a forty- 
 gallon "scuttle-butt," four one-gallon demijohns 
 full of water, three bottles of brandy (the property 
 of passengers), some pipes, matches, and a hundred 
 pounds of tobacco. No medicines. Of course the 
 whole party had to go on short rations at once. 
 
 The captain and the two passengers kept diaries. 
 On our voyage to San Francisco we ran into a calm 
 in the middle of the Pacific, and did not move a rod 
 during fourteen days; this gave me a chance to 
 copy the diaries. Samuel Ferguson s is the fullest; 
 I will draw upon it now. When the following para 
 graph was written the ship was about one hundred 
 and twenty days out from port, and all hands were 
 putting in the lazy time about as usual, as no one 
 was forecasting disaster. 
 
 May 2. Latitude i 28 N., longitude 111 38 W. Another hot 
 and sluggish day; at one time, however, the clouds promised wind, and 
 there came a slight breeze just enough to keep us going. The only 
 thing to chronicle to-day is the quantities of fish about; nine bonitos were 
 caught this forenoon, and some large albacores seen. After dinner the 
 first mate hooked a fellow which he could not hold, so he let the line go 
 to the captain, who was on the bow. He, holding on, brought the fish 
 to with a jerk, and snap went the line, hook and all. We also saw 
 astern, swimming lazily after us, an enormous shark, which must have 
 been nine or ten feet long. We tried him with all sorts of lines and a 
 piece of pork, but he declined to take hold. I suppose he had ap 
 peased his appetite on the heads and other remains of the bonitos we 
 had thrown overboard. 
 
 Next day s entry records the disaster. The three 
 boats got away, retired to a short distance, and 
 stopped. The two injured ones were leaking badly; 
 
0,2 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 some of the men were kept busy bailing, others 
 patched the holes as well as they could. The cap 
 tain, the two passengers, and eleven men were in the 
 long-boat, with a share of the provisions and water, 
 and with no room to spare, for the boat was only 
 twenty-one feet long, six wide, and three deep. 
 The chief mate and eight men were in one of the 
 small boats, the second mate and seven men in the 
 other. The passengers had saved no clothing but 
 what they had on, excepting their overcoats. The 
 ship, clothed in flame and sending up a vast column 
 of black smoke into the sky, made a grand picture 
 in the solitudes of the sea, and hour after hour the 
 outcasts sat and watched it. Meantime the captain 
 ciphered on the immensity of the distance that 
 stretched between him and the nearest available land, 
 and then scaled the rations down to meet the emer 
 gency : half a biscuit for breakfast ; one biscuit and 
 some canned meat for dinner; half a biscuit for 
 tea; a few swallows of water for each meal. And 
 so hunger began to gnaw while the ship was still 
 burning. 
 
 May 4. The ship burned all night very brightly, and hopes are that 
 some ship has seen the light and is bearing down upon us. None seen, 
 however, this forenoon, so we have determined to go together north and a 
 little west to some islands in 18 or 19 north latitude and 114 to 115 
 west longitude, hoping in the meantime to be picked up by some ship. 
 The ship sank suddenly at about 5 A. M. We find the sun very hot and 
 scorching, but all try to keep out of it as much as we can. 
 
 They did a quite natural thing now: waited 
 several hours for that possible ship that might have 
 
My De but as a Literary Person 93 
 
 seen the light to work her slow way to them through 
 the nearly dead calm. Then they gave it up and 
 set about their plans. If you will look at the map 
 you will say that their course could be easily de 
 cided. Albemarle Island (Galapagos group) lies 
 straight eastward nearly a thousand miles ; the islands 
 referred to in the diary indefinitely as "some 
 islands" (Revillagigedo Islands) lie, as they think, 
 in some widely uncertain region northward about 
 one thousand miles and westward one hundred or 
 one hundred and fifty miles. Acapulco, on the 
 Mexican coast, lies about northeast something 
 short of one thousand miles. You will say random 
 rocks in the ocean are not what is wanted ; let them 
 strike for Acapulco and the solid continent. That 
 does look like the rational course, but one presently 
 guesses from the diaries that the thing would have 
 been wholly irrational indeed, suicidal. If the 
 boats struck for Albemarle they would be in the 
 doldrums all the way ; and that means a watery per 
 dition, with winds which arc wholly crazy, and blow 
 from all points of the compass at once and also per 
 pendicularly. If the boats tried for Acapulco they 
 would get out of the doldrums when half-way there, 
 in case they ever got half-way, and then they 
 would be in a lamentable case, for there they would 
 meet the northeast trades coming down in their 
 teeth, and these boats were so rigged that they 
 could not sail within eight points of the wind. So 
 they wisely started northward, with a slight slant to 
 
94 My Dbut as a Literary Person 
 
 the west. They had but ten days short allowance 
 of food ; the long-boat was towing the others ; they 
 could not depend on making any sort of definite 
 progress in the doldrums, and they had four or five 
 hundred miles of doldrums in front of them yet. 
 They are the real equator, a tossing, roaring, rainy 
 belt, ten or twelve hundred miles broad, which 
 girdles the globe. 
 
 It rained hard the first night, and all got drenched, 
 but they filled up their water-butt. The brothers 
 were in the stern with the captain, who steered. 
 The quarters were cramped ; no one got much 
 sleep. " Kept on our course till squalls headed us 
 off." 
 
 Stormy and squally the next morning, with 
 drenching rains. A heavy and dangerous "cob 
 bling" sea. One marvels how such boats could 
 live in it. It is called a feat of desperate daring 
 when one man and a dog cross the Atlantic in a 
 boat the size of a long-boat, and indeed it is ; but 
 this long-boat was overloaded with men and other 
 plunder, and was only three feet deep. "We 
 naturally thought often of all at home, and were 
 glad to remember that it was Sacrament Sunday, 
 and that prayers would go up from our friends for 
 us, although they know not our peril." 
 
 The captain got not even a cat-nap during the 
 first three days and nights, but he got a few winks 
 of sleep the fourJi night. The worst sea yet." 
 About ten at night the captain changed his course 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 95 
 
 and headed east-northeast, hoping to make Clipper- 
 ton Rock. If he failed, no matter; he would be in 
 a better position to make those other islands. I will 
 mention here that he did not find that rock. 
 
 On the 8th of May no wind all day ; sun blister 
 ing hot; they take to the oars. Plenty of dolphins, 
 but they could n t catch any. "I think we are all 
 beginning to realize more and more the awful situa 
 tion we are in." "It often takes a ship a week to 
 get through the doldrums; how much longer, then, 
 such a craft as ours." "We are so crowded that 
 we cannot stretch ourselves out for a good sleep, 
 but have to take it any way we can get it." 
 
 Of course this feature will grow more and more 
 trying, but it will be human nature to cease to set it 
 down ; there will be five weeks of it yet we must 
 try to remember that for the diarist; it will make 
 our beds the softer. 
 
 The Qth of May the sun gives him a warning : 
 "Looking with both eyes, the horizon crossed 
 thus -J-." " Henry keeps well, but broods over our 
 troubles more than I wish he did." They caught 
 two dolphins; they tasted well. The captain 
 believed the compass out of the way, but the long- 
 invisible north star came out a welcome sight 
 and indorsed the compass." 
 
 May 10, "latitude 7 o 3" N., longitude in 
 32 W." So they have made about three hundred 
 miles of northing in the six days*since they left the 
 region of the lost ship. "Drifting in calms all 
 
9 6 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 day." And baking hot, of course; I have been 
 down there, and I remember that detail. " Even as 
 the captain says, all romance has long since van 
 ished, and I think the most of us are beginning to 
 look the fact of our awful situation full in the face." 
 
 "We are making but little headway on our 
 course." Bad news from the rearmost boat: the 
 men are improvident ; 4 they have eaten up all of 
 the canned meats brought from the ship, and are 
 now growing discontented." Not so with the chief 
 mate s people they are evidently under the eye of 
 a man. 
 
 Under date of May n: "Standing still! or 
 worse; we lost more last night than we made yes 
 terday." In fact, they have lost three miles of the 
 three hundred of northing they had so laboriously 
 made. The cock that was rescued and pitched 
 into the boat while the ship was on fire still lives, 
 and crows with the breaking of dawn, cheering us a 
 good deal." What has he been living on for a 
 week? Did the starving men feed him from their 
 dire poverty? "The second mate s boat out of 
 water again, showing that they overdrink their allow 
 ance. The captain spoke pretty sharply to them." 
 It is true : I have the remark in my old notebook ; 
 I got it of the third mate in the hospital at Honolulu. 
 But there is not room for it here, and it is too com 
 bustible, anyway. Besides, the third mate admired 
 it, and what he admired he was likely to enhance. 
 
 They were still watching hopefully for ships. The 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 97 
 
 captain was a thoughtful man, and probably did not 
 disclose to them that that was substantially a waste 
 of time. " In this latitude the horizon is filled with 
 little upright clouds that look very much like ships." 
 Mr. Ferguson saved three bottles of brandy from his 
 private stores when he left the ship, and the liquor 
 came good in these days. The captain serves out 
 two tablespoonf uls of brandy and water half and 
 half to our crew." He means the watch that is 
 on duty; they stood regular watches four hours 
 on and four off. The chief mate was an excellent 
 officer a self-possessed, resolute, fine, all-round 
 man. The diarist makes the following note there 
 is character in it : "I offered one bottle of brandy to 
 the chief mate, but he declined, saying he could 
 keep the after-boat quiet, and we had not enough 
 for all." 
 
 HENRY FERGUSON S DIARY TO DATE, GIVEN IN FULL. 
 
 May 4, 5, 6, doldrums. May 7, 8, 9, doldrums. May 10, n, 12, 
 doldrums. Tells it all. Never saw, never felt, never heard, never 
 experienced such heat, such darkness, such lightning and thunder, and 
 wind and rain, in my life before. 
 
 That boy s diary is of the economical sort that a 
 person might properly be expected to keep in such 
 circumstances and be forgiven for the economy, 
 too. His brother, perishing of consumption, 
 hunger, thirst, blazing heat, drowning rains, loss of 
 sleep, lack of exercise, was persistently faithful and 
 circumstantial with his diary from the first day to 
 the last an instance of noteworthy fidelity and 
 
9 8 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 resolution. In spite of the tossing and plunging 
 boat he wrote it close and fine, in a hand as easy 
 to read as print. They can t seem to get north of 
 7 N. ; they are still there the next day: 
 
 May 12. A good rain last night, and we caught a good deal, though 
 not enough to fill up our tank, pails, etc. Our object is to get out of 
 these doldrums, but it seems as if we cannot do it. To-day we have had 
 it very variable, and hope we are on the northern edge, though we are 
 not much above 7. This morning we all thought we had made out a 
 sail; but it was one of those deceiving clouds. Rained a good deal to 
 day, making all hands wet and uncomfortable; we filled up pretty nearly 
 all our water-pots, however. I hope we may have a fine night, for the 
 captain certainly wants rest, and while there is any danger of squalls, or 
 danger of any kind, he is always on hand. I never would have believed 
 that open boats such as ours, with their loads, could live in some of the 
 seas we have had. 
 
 During the night, 1 2th- 1 3th, " the cry of A ship! 
 brought us to our feet." It seemed to be the 
 glimmer of a vessel s signal-lantern rising out of the 
 curve of the sea. There was a season of breathless 
 hope while they stood watching, with their hands 
 shading their eyes, and their hearts in their throats ; 
 then the promise failed : the light was a rising star. 
 It is a long time ago, thirty-two years, and it 
 does n t matter now, yet one is sorry for their disap 
 pointment. "Thought often of those at home to 
 day, and of the disappointment they will feel next 
 Sunday at not hearing from us by telegraph from 
 San Francisco." It will be many weeks yet before 
 the telegram is received, and it will come as a 
 thunder-clap of joy then, and with the seeming of a 
 miracle, for it will raise from the grave men 
 
My De"but as a Literary Person 99 
 
 mourned as dead. * To-day our rations were re 
 duced to a quarter of a biscuit a meal, with about 
 half a pint of water." This is on the I3th of May, 
 with more than a month of voyaging in front of 
 them yet ! However, as they do not know that, 
 " we are all feeling pretty cheerful." 
 
 In the afternoon of the I4th there was a thunder 
 storm, which toward night seemed to close in around 
 us on every side, making it very dark and squally." 
 44 Our situation is becoming more and more desper 
 ate," for they were making very little northing, 
 44 and every day diminishes our small stock of pro 
 visions." They realize that the boats must soon 
 separate, and each fight for its own life. Towing 
 the quarter-boats is a hindering business. 
 
 That night and next day, light and baffling winds 
 and but little progress. Hard to bear, that per 
 sistent standing still, and the food wasting away. 
 14 Everything in a perfect sop; and all so cramped, 
 and no change of clothes." Soon the sun comes 
 out and roasts them. 4< Joe caught another dol 
 phin to-day ; in his maw we found a flying-fish and 
 two skip-jacks." There is an event, now, which 
 rouses an enthusiasm of hope : a land-bird arrives ! 
 It rests on the yard for awhile, and they can look at 
 it all they like, and envy it, and thank it for its 
 message. As a subject of talk it is beyond price a 
 fresh, new topic for tongues tired to death of talking 
 upon a single theme: Shall we ever see the land 
 again; and when? Is the bird from Clipperton 
 
ioo My De"but as a Literary Person 
 
 Rock? They hope so; and they take heart of 
 grace to believe so. As it turned out, the bird had 
 no message ; it merely came to mock. 
 
 May 1 6, "the cock still lives, and daily carols 
 forth His praise." It will be a rainy night, "but 
 I do not care if we can fill up our water-butts." 
 
 On the i/th one of those majestic specters of the 
 deep, a water-spout, stalked by them, and they 
 trembled for their lives. Young Henry set it down 
 in his scanty journal with the judicious comment 
 that " it might have been a fine sight from a ship." 
 
 From Captain Mitchell s log for this day: "Only 
 half a bushel of bread-crumbs left." (And a month 
 to wander the seas yet.) 
 
 It rained all night and all day ; everybody uncom 
 fortable. Now came a swordfish chasing a bonito; 
 and the poor thing, seeking help and friends, took 
 refuge under the rudder. The big swordfish kept 
 hovering around, scaring everybody badly. The 
 men s mouths watered for him, for he would have 
 made a whole banquet; but no one dared to touch 
 him, of course, for he would sink a boat promptly 
 if molested. Providence protected the poor bonito 
 from the cruel swordfish. This was just and right. 
 Providence next befriended the shipwrecked sailors : 
 they got the bonito. This was also just and right. 
 But in the distribution of mercies the swordfish him 
 self got overlooked. He now went away; to muse 
 over these subtleties, probably. " The men in all the 
 boats seem pretty well ; the feeblest of the sick ones 
 
My Debut as a Literary Persoix 10.1, 
 
 (not able for a long time to stand his watch on 
 board the ship) is wonderfully recovered." This is 
 the third mate s detested " Portyghee " that raised 
 the family of abscesses. 
 
 Passed a most awful night. Rained hard nearly all the time, and blew 
 in squalls, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning, from all points 
 of the compass. Henry s Log, 
 
 Most awful night I ever witnessed. Captain s Log. 
 
 Latitude, May 18, 11 n . So they have aver 
 aged but forty miles of northing a day during the 
 fortnight. Further talk of separating. Too bad, 
 but it must be done for the safety of the whole." 
 " At first I never dreamed, but now hardly shut my 
 eyes for a cat-nap without conjuring up something 
 or other to be accounted for by weakness, I sup 
 pose." But for their disaster they think they would 
 be arriving in San Francisco about this time. "I 
 
 should have liked to send B the telegram for 
 
 her birthday." This was a young sister. 
 
 On the i Qth the captain called up the quarter- 
 boats and said one would have to go off on its own 
 hook. The long-boat could no longer tow both of 
 them. The second mate refused to go, but the chief 
 mate was ready ; in fact, he was always ready when 
 there was a man s work to the fore. He took the 
 second mate s boat; six of its crew elected to re 
 main, and two of his own crew came with him (nine 
 in the boat, now, including himself). He sailed 
 away, and toward sunset passed out of sight. The 
 diarist was sorry to see him go. It was natural; 
 
.JQ2 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 one could have better spared the " Portyghee." 
 After thirty-two years I find my prejudice against 
 this "Portyghee" reviving. His very looks have 
 long passed out of my memory; but no matter, I 
 am coming to hate him as religiously as ever. 
 11 Water will now be a scarce article, for as we get 
 out of the doldrums we shall get showers only now 
 and then in the trades. This life is telling severely 
 on my strength. Henry holds out first-rate." 
 Henry did not start well, but under hardships he im 
 proved straight along. 
 
 Latitude, Sunday, May 20, 12 o 9". They 
 ought to be well out of the doldrums now, but they 
 are not. No breeze the longed-for trades still 
 missing. They are still anxiously watching for a 
 sail, but they have only " visions of ships that come 
 to naught the shadow without the substance." 
 The second mate catches a booby this afternoon, a 
 bird which consists mainly of feathers; "but as 
 they have no other meat, it will go well." 
 
 May 21, they strike the trades at last! The 
 second mate catches three more boobies, and gives 
 the long-boat one. Dinner " half a can of mince 
 meat divided up and served around, which strength 
 ened us somewhat." They have to keep a man 
 bailing all the time ; the hole knocked in the boat 
 when she was launched from the burning ship was 
 never efficiently mended. " Heading about north 
 west now." They hope they have easting enough 
 to make some of those indefinite isles. Failing that, 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 103 
 
 they think they will be in a better position to be 
 picked up. It was an infinitely slender chance, but 
 the captain probably refrained from mentioning 
 that. 
 
 The next day is to be an eventful one. 
 
 May 22. Last night wind headed us off, so that part of the time we 
 had to steer east-southeast and then west-northwest, and so on. This 
 morning we were all startled by a cry of " Sail ho /" Sure enough we 
 could see it ! And for a time we cut adrift from the second mate s boat, 
 and steered so as to attract its attention. This was about half -past five 
 A. M. After sailing in a state of high excitement for almost twenty 
 minutes we made it out to be the chief mate s boat. Of course we were 
 glad to see them and have them report all well; but still it was a bitter 
 disappointment to us all. Now that we are in the trades it seems im 
 possible to make northing enough to strike the isles. We have deter 
 mined to do the best we can, and get in the route of vessels. Such 
 being the determination, it became necessary to cast off the other boat, 
 which, after a good deal of unpleasantness, was done, we again dividing 
 water and stores, and taking Cox into our boat. This makes our num 
 ber fifteen. The second mate s crew wanted to all get in with us and 
 cast the other boat adrift. It was a very painful separation. 
 
 So those isles that they have struggled for so long 
 and so hopefully have to be given up. What with 
 lying birds that come to mock, and isles that are 
 but a dream, and "visions of ships that come to 
 naught," it is a pathetic time they are having, with 
 much heartbreak in it. It was odd that the vanished 
 boat, three days lost to sight in that vast solitude, 
 should appear again. But it brought Cox we 
 can t be certain why. But if it had n t, the diarist 
 would never have seen the land again. 
 
 Our chances as we go west increase in regard to being picked up, but 
 each day our scanty fare is so much reduced. Without the fish, turtle, 
 
104 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 and birds sent us, I do not know how we should have got along. The 
 other day I offered to read prayers morning and evening for the captain, 
 and last night commenced. The men, although of various nationalities 
 and religions, are very attentive, and always uncovered. May God grant 
 my weak endeavor its issue. 
 
 Latitude, May 24, 14 18 N. Five oysters apiece 
 for dinner and three spoonfuls of juice, a gill of 
 water, and a piece of biscuit the size of a silver dol 
 lar. f< We are plainly getting weaker God have 
 mercy upon us all ! " That night heavy seas break 
 over the weather side and make everybody wet and 
 uncomfortable, besides requiring constant bailing. 
 Next day " nothing particular happened." Perhaps 
 some of us would have regarded it differently. 
 14 Passed a spar, but not near enough to see what it 
 was." They saw some whales blow; there were fly 
 ing-fish skimming the seas, but none came aboard. 
 Misty weather, with fine rain, very penetrating. 
 
 Latitude, May 26, 15 50 . They caught a flying- 
 fish and a booby, but had to eat them raw. The 
 men grow weaker, and, I think, despondent; they 
 say very little, though." And so, to all the other 
 imaginable and unimaginable horrors, silence is 
 added- the muteness and brooding of coming 
 despair. "It seems our best chance to get in the 
 track of ships, with the hope that some one will run 
 near enough to our speck to see it." He hopes 
 the other boats stood west and have been picked up. 
 (They will never be heard of again in this world.) 
 
 Sunday, May 27. Latitude 16 o 5"; longitude, by chronometer, 
 117 22 . Our fourth Sunday ! When we left the ship we reckoned on 
 
My De"but as a Literary Person 105 
 
 having about ten days supplies, and now we hope to be able, by rigid 
 economy, to make them last another week if possible.* Last night the 
 sea was comparatively quiet, but the wind headed us off to about west- 
 northwest, which has been about our course all day to-day. Another 
 flying-fish came aboard last night, and one more to-day both small 
 ones. No birds. A booby is a great catch, and a good large one 
 makes a small dinner for the fifteen of us that is, of course, as dinners 
 go in the Hornefs long-boat. Tried this morning to read the full ser 
 vice to myself, with the communion, but found it too much; am too 
 weak, and get sleepy, and cannot give strict attention; so I put off half 
 till this afternoon. I trust God will hear the prayers gone up for us at 
 home to-day, and graciously answer them by sending us succor and help 
 in this our season of deep distress. 
 
 The next day was " a good day for seeing a 
 ship." But none was seen. The diarist " still feels 
 pretty well," though very weak; his brother Henry 
 " bears up and keeps his strength the best of any on 
 board." " I do not feel despondent at all, for I 
 fully trust that the Almighty will hear our and the 
 home prayers, and He who suffers not a sparrow to 
 fall sees and cares for us, His creatures." 
 
 Considering the situation and circumstances, the 
 record for next day, May 29, is one which has a 
 surprise in it for those dull people who think that 
 nothing but medicines and doctors can cure the sick. 
 A little starvation can really do more for the average 
 sick man than can the best medicines and the best 
 doctors. I do not mean a restricted diet; I mean 
 total abstention from food for one or two days. I 
 speak from experience ; starvation has been my cold 
 and fever doctor for fifteen years, and has accom 
 
 * There are nineteen days of voyaging ahead yet. M. T. 
 
106 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 plished a cure in all instances. The third mate told 
 me in Honolulu that the Portyghee had lain in 
 his hammock for months, raising his family of 
 abscesses and feeding like a cannibal. We have 
 seen that in spite of dreadful weather, deprivation 
 of sleep, scorching, drenching, and all manner of 
 miseries, thirteen days of starvation "wonderfully 
 recovered" him. There were four sailors down 
 sick when the ship was burned. Twenty-five days 
 of pitiless starvation have followed, and now we 
 have this curious record : " All the men are hearty 
 and strong ; even the ones that were down sick are 
 well y except poor Peter." When I wrote an article 
 some months ago urging temporary abstention from 
 food as a remedy for an inactive appetite and for 
 disease, I was accused of jesting, but I was in 
 earnest. We are all wonderfully well and strong, 
 comparatively speaking." On this day the starva 
 tion regimen drew its belt a couple of buckle-holes 
 tighter : the bread ration was reduced from the 
 usual piece of cracker the size of a silver dollar to 
 the half of that, and one meal was abolished from 
 the daily three. This will weaken the men physically, 
 but if there are any diseases of an ordinary sort left 
 in them they will disappear. 
 
 Two quarts bread-crumbs left, one-third of a ham, three small cans of 
 oysters, and twenty gallons of water. Captain s Log. 
 
 The hopeful tone of the diaries is persistent. It 
 is remarkable. Look at the map and see where the 
 boat is: latitude 16 44 , longitude 119 20 . It is 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 107 
 
 more than two hundred miles west of the Revil- 
 lagigedo Islands, so they are quite out of the ques 
 tion against the trades, rigged as this boat is. The 
 nearest land available for such a boat is the American 
 group, six hundred and fifty miles away, westward; 
 still, there is no note of surrender, none even of dis 
 couragement ! Yet, May 30, "we have now left: 
 one can of oysters ; three pounds of raisins ; one can 
 of soup ; one-third of a ham ; three pints of biscuit- 
 crumbs." And fifteen starved men to live on it 
 while they creeo and crawl six hundred and fifty 
 miles. " Somehow I feel much encouraged by this 
 change of course (west by north) which we have 
 made to-day." Six hundred and fifty miles on a 
 hatful of provisions. Let us be thankful, even after 
 thirty-two years, that they are mercifully ignorant of 
 the fact that it isn t six hundred and fifty that they 
 must creep on the hatful, but twenty-two hundred ! 
 Isn t the situation romantic enough just as it stands? 
 No. Providence added a startling detail: pulling an 
 oar in that boat, for common seaman s wages, was 
 a banished duke Danish. We hear no more of 
 him; just that mention, that is all, with the simple 
 remark added that " he is one of our best men " 
 a high enough compliment for a duke or any other 
 man in those manhood-testing circumstances. With 
 that little glimpse of him at his oar, and that fine 
 word of praise, he vanishes out of our knowledge 
 for all time. For all time, unless he should chance 
 upon this note and reveal himself. 
 
io8 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 The last day of May is come. And now there is 
 a disaster to report: think of it, reflect upon it, and 
 try to understand how much it means, when you 
 sit down with your family and pass your eye over 
 your breakfast- table. Yesterday there were three 
 pints of bread-crumbs ; this morning the little bag is 
 found open and some of the crumbs missing. " We 
 dislike to suspect any one of such a rascally act, but 
 there is no question that this grave crime has been 
 committed. Two days will certainly finish the re 
 maining morsels. God grant us strength to reach 
 the American group!" The third mate told me in 
 Honolulu that in these days the men remembered 
 with bitterness that the " Portyghee " had devoured 
 twenty-two days rations while he lay waiting to be 
 transferred from the burning ship, and that now they 
 cursed him and swore an oath that if it came to can 
 nibalism he should be the first to suffer for the rest. 
 
 The captain has lost his glasses, and therefore he cannot read our 
 pocket prayer-books as much as I think he would like, though he is not 
 familiar with them. 
 
 Further of the captain: "He is a good man, 
 and has been most kind to us almost fatherly. 
 He says that if he had been offered the command of 
 the ship sooner he should have brought his two 
 daughters with him." It makes one shudder yet to 
 think how narrow an escape it was. 
 
 The two meals (rations) a day are as follows: fourteen raisins and a 
 piece of cracker the size of a cent, for tea; a gill of water, and a piece 
 of ham and a piece of bread, each the size of a cent, for breakfast. 
 Captain s Log. 
 
My De"but as a Literary Person 109 
 
 He means a cent in thickness as well as in circum 
 ference. Samuel Ferguson s diary says the ham 
 was shaved " about as thin as it could be cut." 
 
 June i . Last night and to-day sea very high and cobbling, breaking 
 over and making us all wet and cold. Weather squally, and there is no 
 doubt that only careful management with God s protecting care 
 preserved us through both the night and the day; and really it is most 
 marvelous how every morsel that passes our lips is blessed to us. It 
 makes me think daily of the miracle of the loaves and fishes. Henry 
 keeps up wonderfully, which is a great consolation to me. I somehow 
 have great confidence, and hope that our afflictions will soon be ended, 
 though we are running rapidly across the track of both outward and 
 inward bound vessels, and away from them; our chief hope is a whaler, 
 man-of-war, or some Australian ship. The isles we are steering for are 
 put down in Bowditch, but on my map are said to be doubtful. God 
 grant they may be there ! 
 
 Hardest day yet. Captain s Log. 
 
 Doubtful ! It was worse than that. A week later 
 they sailed straight over them. 
 
 June 2. Latitude 18 9 . Squally, cloudy, a heavy sea. ... I 
 cannot help thinking of the cheerful and comfortable time we had 
 aboard the Hornet. 
 
 Two days scanty supplies left ten rations of water apiece and a 
 little morsel of bread. But the sun shines, and God is merciful. Cap 
 tain s Log. 
 
 Sunday, June 3. Latitude 17 54 . Heavy sea all night, and from 
 4 A. M. very wet, the sea breaking over us in frequent sluices, and soak 
 ing everything aft, particularly. All day the sea has been very high, 
 and it is a wonder that we are not swamped. Heaven grant that it 
 may go down this evening ! Our suspense and condition are getting 
 terrible. I managed this morning to crawl, more than step, to the 
 forward end of the boat, and was surprised to find that I was so weak, 
 especially in the legs and knees. The sun has been out again, and I 
 have dried some things, and hope for a better night. 
 
 June 4. Latitude 17 6 , longitude 131 30 . Shipped hardly any 
 seas last night, and to-day the sea has gone down somewhat, although 
 
no My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 it is still too high for comfort, as we have an occasional reminder that 
 water is wet. The sun has been out all day, and so we have had a 
 good drying. I have been trying for the last ten or twelve days to get 
 a pair of drawers dry enough to put on, and to-day at last succeeded. 
 I mention this to show the state in which we have lived. If our 
 chronometer is anywhere near right, we ought to see the American 
 Isles to-morrow or next day. If they are not there, we have only the 
 chance for a few days, of a stray ship, for we cannot eke out the 
 provisions more than five or six days longer, and our strength is failing 
 very fast. I was much surprised to-day to note how my legs have wasted 
 away above my knees : they are hardly thicker than my upper arm used 
 to be. Still, I trust in God s infinite mercy, and feel sure he will do 
 what is best for us. To survive, as we have done, thirty-two days in an 
 open boat, with only about ten days fair provisions for thirty-one men 
 in the first place, and these divided twice subsequently, is more than 
 mere unassisted human art and strength could have accomplished and 
 endured. 
 
 Bread and raisins all gone. Captain s Log. 
 
 Men growing dreadfully discontented, and awful grumbling and un 
 pleasant talk is arising. God save us from all strife of men; and if we 
 must die now, take us himself, and not embitter our bitter death still 
 more. Henry s Log. 
 
 June 5. Quiet night and pretty comfortable day, though our sail and 
 block show signs of failing, and need taking down which latter is 
 something of a job, as it requires the climbing of the mast. We also 
 had news from forward, there being discontent and some threatening 
 complaints of unfair allowances, etc., all as unreasonable as foolish; still, 
 these things bid us be on our guard. I am getting miserably weak, but 
 try to keep up the best I can. If we cannot find those isles we can only 
 try to make northwest and get in the track of Sandwich Island bound 
 vessels, living as best we can in the meantime. To-day we changed to 
 one meal, and that at about noon, with a small ration of water at 8 or 9 
 A. M., another at 12 M., and a third at 5 or 6 P. M. 
 
 Nothing left but a little piece of ham and a gill of water, all around. 
 Captain s Log. 
 
 They are down to one meal a day now, such as 
 it is, and fifteen hundred miles to crawl yet ! And 
 now the horrors deepen, and though they escaped 
 
My D^but as a Literary Person 1 1 1 
 
 actual mutiny, the attitude of the men became 
 alarming. Now we seem to see why that curious 
 accident happened, so long ago: I mean Cox s re 
 turn, after he had been far away and out of sight 
 several days in the chief mate s boat. If he had 
 not come back the captain and the two young pas 
 sengers would have been slain by these sailors, who 
 were becoming crazed through their sufferings. 
 
 NOTE SECRETLY PASSED BY HENRY TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 Cox told me last night that there is getting to be a good deal of 
 ugly talk among the men against the captain and us aft. They say that 
 the captain is the cause of all; that he did not try to save the ship at 
 all, nor to get provisions, and even would not let the men put in some 
 they had; and that partiality is shown us in apportioning our rations aft. 
 * * * asked Cox the other day if he would starve first or eat human 
 flesh. Cox answered he would starve. * * * then told him he would be 
 only killing himself. If we do not find these islands we would do well 
 to prepare for anything. * * * is the loudest of all. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 We can depend on * * *, I think, and * * *, and Cox, can we not ? 
 
 SECOND NOTE. 
 
 I guess so, and very likely on * * *; but there is no telling. * * * 
 and Cox are certain. There is nothing definite said or hinted as yet, as I 
 understand Cox; but starving men are the same as maniacs. It would be 
 well to keep a watch on your pistol, so as to have it and the cartridges 
 safe from theft. 
 
 Henry s Log, June 5. Dreadful forebodings. God spare us from all 
 such horrors ! Some of the men getting to talk a good deal. Nothing 
 to write down. Heart very sad. 
 
 Henry s Log, June 6. Passed some seaweed, and something that 
 looked like the trunk of an old tree, but no birds; beginning to be afraid 
 islands not there. To-day it was said to the captain, in the hearing of 
 all, that some of the men would not shrink, when a man was dead, fron; 
 
ii2 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 using the flesh, though they would not kill. Horrible ! God give us all 
 full use of our reason, and spare us from such things ! " From plague, 
 pestilence, and famine, from battle and murder, and from sudden death, 
 good Lord, deliver us ! " 
 
 June 6. Latitude 16 30 , longitude (chron.) 134. Dry night and 
 wind steady enough to require no change in sail; but this A. M. an at 
 tempt to lower it proved abortive. First the third mate tried and got up 
 to the block, and fastened a temporary arrangement to reeve the hal 
 yards through, but had to come down, weak and almost fainting, before 
 finishing; then Joe tried, and after twice ascending, fixed it and brought 
 down the block; but it was very exhausting work, and afterward he was 
 good for nothing all day. The clue-iron which we are trying to make 
 serve for the broken block works, however, very indifferently, and will, 
 I am afraid, soon cut the rope. It is very necessary to get everything 
 connected with the sail in good, easy running order before we get too 
 weak to do anything with it. 
 
 Only three meals left. Captain s Log. 
 
 June 7. Latitude 16 35 N., longitude 136 30 W. Night wet 
 and uncomfortable. To-day shows us pretty conclusively that the 
 American Isles are not there, though we have had some signs that 
 looked like them. At noon we decided to abandon looking any farther 
 for them, and to-night haul a little more northerly, so as to get in the 
 way of Sandwich Island vessels, which fortunately come down pretty well 
 this way say to latitude 19 to 20 to get the benefit of the trade 
 winds. Of course all the westing we have made is gain, and I hope the 
 chronometer is wrong in our favor, for I do not see how any such delicate 
 instrument can keep good time with the constant jarring and thumping 
 we get from the sea. With the strong trade we have, I hope that a 
 week from Sunday will put us in sight of the Sandwich Islands, if we 
 are not safe by that time by being picked up. 
 
 It is twelve hundred miles to the Sandwich 
 Islands; the provisions are virtually exhausted, but 
 not the perishing diarist s pluck. 
 
 June 8. My cough troubled me a good deal last night, and therefore 
 I got hardly any sleep at all. Still, I make out pretty well, and should 
 not complain. Yesterday the third mate mended the block, and this 
 P. M. the sail, after some difficulty, was got down, and Harry got to the 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 1 1 3 
 
 top of the mast and rove the halyards through after some hardship, so 
 that it now works easy and well. This getting up the mast is no easy 
 matter at any time with the sea we have, and is very exhausting in our 
 present state. We could only reward Harry by an extra ration of 
 water. We have made good time and course to-day. Heading her up, 
 however, makes the boat ship seas and keeps us all wet; however, it 
 cannot be helped. Writing is a rather precarious thing these times. Our 
 meal to-day for the fifteen consists of half a can of " soup and boullie "; 
 the other half is reserved for to-morrow. Henry still keeps up grandly, 
 and is a great favorite. God grant he may be spared ! 
 
 A better feeling prevails among the men. Captain s Log. 
 
 June 9. Latitude 17 53 . Finished to-day, I may say, our whole 
 stock of provisions.* We have only left a lower end of a ham-bone, 
 with some of the outer rind and skin on. In regard to the water, how 
 ever, I think we have got ten days supply at our present rate of allow 
 ance. This, with what nourishment we can get from boot-legs and such 
 chewable matter, we hope will enable us to weather it out till we get to 
 the Sandwich Islands, or, sailing in the meantime in the track of vessels 
 thither bound, be picked up. My hope is ir the latter, for in all human 
 probability I cannot stand the other. Still we have been marvelously 
 protected, and God, I hope, will preserve u all in his own good time 
 and way. The men are getting weaker, but are still quiet and orderly. 
 
 Sunday, June 10. Latitude 18 40 , longitude 142 34 . A pretty 
 good night last night, with some wettings, and again another beautiful 
 Sunday. I cannot but think how we should all enjoy it at home, and 
 what a contrast is here ! How terrible their suspense must begin to be ! 
 God grant that it may be relieved before very long, and he certainly 
 seems to be with us in everything we do, and has preserved this boat 
 miraculously; for since we left the ship we have sailed considerably over 
 three thousand miles, which, taking into consideration our meager stock 
 of provisions, is almost unprecedented. As yet I do not feel the stint 
 of food so much as I do that of water. Even Henry, who is naturally 
 a good water-drinker, can save half of his allowance from time to time, 
 when I cannot. My diseased throat may have something to do with 
 that, however. 
 
 Nothing is now left which by any flattery can be 
 called food. But they must manage somehow for 
 
 * Six days to sail yet, nevertheless. M. T. 
 8 
 
H4 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 five days more, for at noon they have still eight 
 hundred miles to go. It is a race for life now. 
 
 This is no time for comments or other interrup 
 tions from me every moment is valuable. I will 
 take up the boy brother s diary at this point, and 
 clear the seas before it and let it fly. 
 
 HENRY FERGUSON S LOG. 
 
 Sunday, Vfune 10. Our ham-bone has given us a taste of food to-day, 
 and we have got left a little meat and the remainder of the bone for to 
 morrow. Certainly never was there such a sweet knuckle-bone, or one 
 
 that was po thoroughly appreciated I do not know that I feel 
 
 any wor^e than I did last Sunday, notwithstanding the reduction of diet : 
 and I trust that we may all have strength given us to sustain the suffer 
 ings and hardships of the coming week. We estimate that we are within 
 seven hundred miles of the Sandwich Islands, and that our average, 
 daily, is somewhat over a hundred miles, so that our hopes have some 
 foundation in reason. Heaven send we may all live to see land ! 
 
 June 1 1 . Ate the meat and rind of our ham-bone, and have the bone 
 and the greasy cloth from around the ham left to eat to-morrow. God 
 send us birds or fish, and let us not perish of hunger, or be brought to 
 the dreadful alternative of feeding on human flesh ! As I feel now, I do 
 not think anything could persuade me; but you cannot tell what you 
 will do when you are reduced by hunger and your mind wandering. I 
 hope and pray we can make out to reach the islands before we get to 
 this strait; but we have one or two desperate men aboard, though they 
 are quiet enough now. // is my firm trust and belief that we are going 
 to be saved. 
 
 All food gone. Captain s Log.* 
 
 June 12. Stiff breeze, and we are fairly flying dead ahead of it 
 and toward the islands. Good hope, but the prospects of hunger are 
 awful. Ate ham-bone to-day. It is the captain s birthday; he is fifty- 
 four years old. 
 
 * It was at this time discovered that the crazed sailors had gotten the 
 delusion that the captain had a million dollars in gold concealed aft, 
 and they were conspiring to kill him and the two passengers and seize 
 it. M. T. 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 115 
 
 June 13. The ham-rags are not quite all gone yet, and the boot 
 legs, we find, are very palatable after we get the salt out of them. A 
 little smoke, I think, does some little good; but I don t know. 
 
 June 14. Hunger does not pain us much, but we are dreadfully 
 weak. Our water is getting frightfully low. God grant we may see 
 land soon ! Nothing to cat, but feel better than I did yesterday. 
 Toward evening saw a magnificent rainbow the first we had seen. 
 Captain said, "Cheer up, boys; it s a prophecy its the bow of 
 promise /" 
 
 June 15. God be forever praised for his infinite mercy! LAND IN 
 SIGHT ! Rapidly neared it and soon were sure of it. ... Two 
 noble Kanakas swam out and took the boat ashore. We were joyfully, 
 received by two white men Mr. Jones and his steward Charley and 
 a crowd of native men, women, and children. They treated us splen 
 didly aided us, and carried us up the bank, and brought us water, 
 poi, bananas, and green cocoanuts; but the white men took care of us 
 and prevented those who would have eaten too much from doing so. 
 Everybody overjoyed to see us, and all sympathy expressed in faces, 
 deeds, and words. We were then helped up to the house; and help 
 we needed. Mr. Jones and Charley are the only white men here. 
 Treated us splendidly. Gave us first about a teaspoonful of spirits in 
 water, and then to each a cup of warm tea, with a little bread. Takes 
 every care of us. Gave us later another cup of tea, and bread the same, 
 and then let us go to rest. // is the happiest day of my life. . . . God 
 in his mercy has heard our prayer. . . . Everybody is so kind. Words 
 cannot tell. 
 
 June 1 6. Mr. Jones gave us a delightful bed, and we surely had a 
 good night s rest; but not sleep we were too happy to sleep; would 
 keep the reality and not let it turn to a delusion dreaded that we 
 might wake up and find ourselves in the boat again. 
 
 It is an amazing adventure. There is nothing of 
 its sort in history that surpasses it in impossibilities 
 made possible. In one extraordinary detail the 
 survival of every person in the boat it probably 
 stands alone in the history of adventures of its kind. 
 Usually merely a part of a boat s company survive 
 
n6 My Dbut as a Literary Person 
 
 officers, mainly, and other educated and tenderly 
 reared men, unused to hardship and heavy labor; 
 the untrained, roughly reared hard workers suc 
 cumb. But in this case even the rudest and rough 
 est stood the privations and .miseries of the voyage 
 almost as well as did the college-bred young brothers 
 and the captain. I mean, physically. The minds 
 of most of the sailors broke down in the fourth week 
 and went to temporary ruin, but physically the en 
 durance exhibited was astonishing. Those men did 
 not survive by any merit of their own, of course, 
 but by merit of the character and intelligence of the 
 captain; they lived by the mastery of his spirit. 
 Without him they would have been children without 
 a nurse ; they would have exhausted their provisions 
 in a week, and their pluck would not have lasted 
 even as long as the provisions. 
 
 The boat came near to being wrecked at the last. 
 As it approached the shore the sail was let go, and 
 came down with a run ; then the captain saw that he 
 was drifting swiftly toward an ugly reef, and an 
 effort was made to hoist the sail again : but it could 
 not be done; the men s strength was wholly ex 
 hausted; they could not even pull an oar. They 
 were helpless, and death imminent. It was then 
 that they were discovered by the two Kanakas who 
 achieved the rescue. They swam out and manned 
 the boat and piloted her through a narrow and 
 hardly noticeable break in the reef the only break 
 in it in a stretch of thirty-five miles ! The spot 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 1 1 7 
 
 where the landing was made was the only one in 
 that stretch where footing could have been found on 
 the shore; everywhere else precipices came sheer 
 down into forty fathoms of water. Also, in all that 
 stretch this was the only spot where anybody lived. 
 
 Within ten days after the landing all the men but 
 one were up and creeping about. Properly, they 
 ought to have killed themselves with the " food " of 
 the last few days some of them, at any rate 
 men who had freighted their stomachs with strips of 
 leather from old boots and with chips from the 
 butter-cask ; a freightage which they did not get rid 
 of by digestion, but by other means. The captain 
 and the two passengers did not eat strips and chips, 
 as the sailors did, but scraped the boot-leather and 
 the wood, and made a pulp of the scrapings by 
 moistening them with water. The third mate told 
 me that the boots were old and full of holes ; then 
 added thoughtfully, * but the holes digested the 
 best." Speaking of digestion, here is a remarkable 
 thing, and worth noting: during this strange voyage, 
 and for a while afterward on shore, the bowels of 
 some of the men virtually ceased from their func 
 tions ; in some cases there was no action for twenty 
 and thirty days, and in one case for forty-four ! 
 Sleeping also came to be rare. Yet the men did 
 very well without it. During many days the captain 
 did not sleep at all twenty-one, I think, on one 
 stretch. 
 
 When the landing was made, all the men were 
 
n8 My Debut as a Literary Person 
 
 successfully protected from overeating except the 
 Portyghee " ; he escaped the watch and ate an in 
 credible number of bananas : a hundred and fifty- 
 two, the third mate said, but this was undoubtedly 
 an exaggeration ; I think it was a hundred and 
 fifty-one. He was already nearly full of leather; 
 it was hanging out of his ears. (I do not state this 
 on the third mate s authority, for we have seen what 
 sort of person he was; I state it on my own.) 
 The "Portyghee" ought to have died, of course, 
 and even now it seems a pity that he did n t; but he 
 got well, and as early as any of them ; and all full of 
 leather, too, the way he was, and butter-timber and 
 handkerchiefs and bananas. Some of the men did 
 eat handkerchiefs in those last days, also socks ; 
 and he was one of them. 
 
 It is to the credit of the men that they did not kill 
 the rooster that crowed so gallantly mornings. He 
 lived eighteen days, and then stood up and 
 stretched his neck and made a brave, weak effort 
 to do his duty once more, and died in the act. It 
 is a picturesque detail; and so is that rainbow, too, 
 the only one seen in the forty- three days, rais 
 ing its triumphal arch in the skies for the sturdy 
 fighters to sail under to victory and rescue. 
 
 With ten days provisions Captain Josiah Mitchell 
 performed this memorable voyage of forty-three 
 days and eight hours in an open boat, sailing four 
 thousand miles in reality and thirty-three hundred 
 and sixty by direct courses, and brought every man 
 
My Debut as a Literary Person 119 
 
 safe to land. A bright, simple-hearted, unassuming, 
 plucky, and most companionable man. I walked 
 the deck with him twenty-eight days, when I was 
 not copying diaries, and I remember him with 
 reverent honor. If he is alive he is eighty-six years 
 old now. 
 
 If I remember rightly, Samuel Ferguson died 
 soon after we reached San Francisco. I do not 
 think he lived to see his home again ; his disease 
 had been seriously aggravated by his hardships. 
 
 For a time it was hoped that the two quarter-boats 
 would presently be heard of, but this hope suffered 
 disappointment. They went down with all on board, 
 no doubt, not even sparing that knightly chief 
 mate. 
 
 The authors of the diaries allowed me to copy 
 them exactly as they were written, and the extracts 
 that I have given are without any smoothing over 
 or revision. These diaries are finely modest and 
 unaffected, and with unconscious and unintentional 
 art they rise toward the climax with graduated and 
 gathering force and swing and dramatic intensity; 
 they sweep you along with a cumulative rush, and 
 when the cry rings out at last, "Land in sight! " 
 your heart is in your mouth, and for a moment you 
 think it is you that have been saved. The last two 
 paragraphs are not improvable by anybody s art; 
 they are literary gold ; and their very pauses and 
 uncompleted sentences have in them an eloquence 
 not reachable by any words. 
 
JB I/Kim Hi i Lnsn 
 
 rfisrjst ic tia snrr $ ITD? 
 
 Of thi: SIT! "ferr tintt ^rrm-r OtCSTT. 2 iffii* 
 
 HI tt ssr^i ir 
 liti-r 
 
 ir z&zzjvi in- 
 
 stanf nmsmr irt^r litt p ji 
 
 ^rrx t~r 
 i/ S2Ft i.. imc 
 
 inr l 
 
 c ittr f ITTL 
 
 ^. it myr^rt HE e isirrns TJi ... iiiri: 
 t>ur ZL&izgaS; itc* urarr -cirrs.. ~* T * a . ii ,t 
 iw imt s ntniiiii^ ti nt. 
 
 Ife t^tst V>-V2>j wt ^i^iuf irr, : " J vyr titm^ 
 *CDC IccJt it ic 
 
THE ESUIMAU MAIDEN S ROMANCE 
 
 \ 
 I 
 
 ES. ^ aibctxt my : . : - : - 
 
 ycc WCCLX: like to kniew. Mr. Twain. r ~ sire 
 safe. ::s her sort verce. ami letting ber icosest eyes 
 r?<t ptacfcly srca 3ty face. k * fee 2? VTKJ aad giocd 
 of vx?t re like 2X- i2c care tc oew ^bctrr me." 
 
 y scraping; b 
 rser cieek^ vicrr i s 
 
 ^: :c r> i^r rxr sleeve, wane soe -waccfre 
 n :>:v^_ > ^v-;-^ :- -" 
 
 tie sky icd wash: trte Icnely smTw-jtani ami tfte 
 reracpiiec xecerp? witrt the rici fees of trte prisn^ 2 
 *cie re JLTO^SC :accienoie sctemicir ami beauty; 
 jcv >oe so?ck ?dE 3er r^rerie ami orepared tcr 
 26* true iomcie Itttie tetiary I T.TI^ isketi fbr> 
 sectiec ierseif c^mD^rtadiy ?tt tfte bicck cf ace 
 ve tner^- usias: i? i scCj^ ami I Tr.nte reac ta 
 
 creafiw^ I speak fc7?ot tae 
 view. Otfeers -vjuld oir^e 
 ier i trtiie ^er^unitp. S&e- was just twraty 
 ye jar? *.Mi. oaac was rteiti te be- c^r sir tm aicst be- 
 gnri ia aer tr^e. E^rea ao^r. at t&e 
 
122 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 air, with her cumbersome and shapeless fur coat and 
 trousers and boots and vast hood, the beauty of her 
 face at least was apparent ; but her figure had to be 
 taken on trust. Among all the guests who came 
 and went, I had seen no girl at her father s hospi 
 table trough who could be called her equal. Yet she 
 was not spoiled. She was sweet and natural and 
 sincere, and if she was aware that she was a belle, 
 there was nothing about her ways to show that she 
 possessed that knowledge. 
 
 She had been my daily comrade for a week now, 
 and the better I knew her the better I liked her. 
 She had been tenderly and carefully brought up, 
 in an atmosphere of singularly rare refinement for 
 the polar regions, for her father was the most im 
 portant man of his tribe and ranked at the top of 
 Esquimau cultivation. I made long dog-sledge trips 
 across the mighty ice floes with Lasca, that was 
 her name, and found her company always pleasant 
 and her conversation agreeable. I went fishing with 
 her, but not in her perilous boat : I merely followed 
 along on the ice and watched her strike her game 
 with her fatally accurate spear. We went sealing 
 together ; several times I stood by while she and the 
 family dug blubber from a stranded whale, and once 
 I went part of the way when she was hunting a bear, 
 but turned back before the finish, because at bottom 
 I am afraid of bears. 
 
 However, she was ready to begin her story now, 
 and this is what she said : 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 123 
 
 " Our tribe had always been used to wander about 
 from place to place over the frozen seas, like the 
 other tribes, but my father got tired of that two 
 years ago, and built this great mansion of frozen 
 snow-blocks, look at it; it is seven feet high and 
 three or four times as long as any of the others, 
 and here we have stayed ever since. He was very 
 proud of his house, and that was reasonable; for if 
 you have examined it with care you must have 
 noticed how much finer and completer it is than 
 houses usually are. But if you have not, you must, 
 for you will find it has luxurious appointments that 
 are quite beyond the common. For instance, in 
 that end of it which you have called the parlor, 
 the raised platform for the accommodation of guests 
 and the family at meals is the largest you have ever 
 seen in any house is it not so? " 
 
 Yes, you are quite right, Lasca; it is the 
 largest; we have nothing resembling it in even the 
 finest houses in the United States." This admis 
 sion made her eyes sparkle with pride and pleasure. 
 I noted that, and took my cue. 
 
 " I thought it must have surprised you/ she said. 
 " And another thing: it is bedded far deeper in furs 
 than is usual; all kinds of furs seal, sea-otter, 
 silver-gray fox, bear, marten, sable every kind of 
 fur in profusion ; and the same with the ice-block 
 sleeping-benches along the walls, which you call 
 beds. Are your platforms and sleeping-benches 
 better provided at home ? 
 
124 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 " Indeed, they are not, Lasca they do not 
 begin to be." That pleased her again. All she was 
 thinking of was the number of furs her aesthetic 
 father took the trouble to keep on hand, not their 
 value. I could have told her that those masses of 
 rich furs constituted wealth, or would in my coun 
 try, but she would not have understood that; those 
 were not the kind of things that ranked as riches 
 with her people. I could have told her that the 
 clothes she had on, or the every-day clothes of the 
 commonest person about her, were worth twelve or 
 fifteen hundred dollars, and that I was not acquainted 
 with anybody at home who wore twelve-hundred-dol 
 lar toilets to go fishing in ; but she would not have 
 understood it, so I said nothing. She resumed : 
 
 "And then the slop-tubs. We have two in the 
 parlor, and two in the rest of the house. It is very 
 seldom that one has two in the parlor. Have you 
 two in the parlor at home? " 
 
 The memory of those tubs made me gasp, but I 
 recovered myself before she noticed, and said with 
 effusion : 
 
 11 Why, Lasca, it is a shame of me to expose my 
 country, and you must not let it go further, for I 
 am speaking to you in confidence ; but I give you 
 my word of honor that not even the richest man in 
 the city of New York has two slop-tubs in his draw 
 ing-room." 
 
 She clapped her fur-clad hands in innocent de 
 light, and exclaimed : 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 125 
 
 " Oh, but you cannot mean it, you cannot mean 
 it!" 
 
 "Indeed, I am in earnest, dear. There is Van- 
 derbilt. Vanderbilt is almost the richest man in the 
 whole world. Now, if I were on my dying bed, I 
 could say to you that not even he has two in his 
 drawing-room. Why, he hasn t even one I wish 
 I may die in my tracks if it isn t true." 
 
 Her lovely eyes stood wide with amazement, and 
 she said, slowly, and with a sort of awe in her voice: 
 
 * How strange how incredible one is not able 
 to realize it. Is he penurious? " 
 
 "No it isn t that. It isn t the expense he 
 minds, but er well, you know, it would look 
 like showing off. Yes, that is it, that is the idea; 
 he is a plain man in his way, and shrinks from 
 display." 
 
 "Why, that humility is right enough." said 
 Lasca, " if one does not carry it too far but what 
 does the place look like ? 
 
 " Well, necessarily it looks pretty barren and un 
 finished, but " 
 
 I should think so ! I never heard anything like 
 it. Is it a fine house that is, otherwise? " 
 
 " Pretty fine, yes. It is very well thought of." 
 
 The girl was silent awhile, and sat dreamily gnaw 
 ing a candle-end, apparently trying to think the thing 
 out. At last she gave her head a little toss and 
 spoke out her opinion with decision : 
 
 "Well, to my mind there s a breed of humility 
 
126 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 which is itself a species of showing-off, when you 
 get down to the marrow of it; and when a man is 
 able to afford two slop-tubs in his parlor, and don t 
 do it, it may be that he is truly humble-minded, but 
 it s a hundred times more likely that he is just trying 
 to strike the public eye. In my judgment, your 
 Mr. Vanderbilt knows what he is about." 
 
 I tried to modify this verdict, feeling that a double 
 slop-tub standard was not a fair one to try every 
 body by, although a sound enough one in its own 
 habitat; but the girl s head was set, and she was not 
 to be persuaded. Presently she said : 
 
 "Do the rich people, with you, have as good 
 sleeping-benches as ours, and made out of as nice 
 broad ice-blocks ? 
 
 "Well, they are pretty good good enough 
 but they are not made of ice-blocks." 
 
 " I want to know ! Why aren t they made of ice- 
 blocks?" 
 
 I explained the difficulties in the way, and the ex- 
 pensiveness of ice in a country where you have to 
 keep a sharp eye on your ice man or your ice bill 
 will weigh more than your ice. Then she cried out: 
 
 " Dear me, do you buy your ice? " 
 
 " We most surely do, dear." 
 
 She burst into a gale of guileless laughter, and said : 
 
 "Oh, I never heard of anything so silly! My, 
 there s plenty of it it isn t worth anything. Why, 
 there is a hundred miles of it in sight, right now. I 
 wouldn t give a fish bladder for the whole of it." 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 127 
 
 " Well, it s because you don t know how to value 
 it, you little provincial muggins. If you had it in 
 New York in midsummer, you could buy all the 
 whales in the market with it." 
 
 She looked at me doubtfully, and said : 
 
 " Are you speaking true? " 
 
 " Absolutely. I take my oath to it." 
 
 This made her thoughtful. Presently she said, 
 with a little sigh : 
 
 " I wish /could live there." 
 
 I had merely meant to furnish her a standard of 
 values which she could understand ; but my pur 
 pose had miscarried. I had only given her the im 
 pression that whales were cheap and plenty in New 
 York, and set her mouth to watering for them. It 
 seemed best to try to mitigate the evil which I had 
 done, so I said : 
 
 "But you wouldn t care for whale meat if you 
 lived there. Nobody does." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "Indeed they don t." 
 
 " Why don t they?" 
 
 " Wel-1-1, I hardly know. It s prejudice, I think. 
 Yes, that is it just prejudice. I reckon some 
 body that hadn t anything better to do started a pre 
 judice against it, some time or other, and once you 
 get a caprice like that fairly going, you know, it will 
 last no end of time." 
 
 That is true perfectly true," said the girl, 
 reflectively. " Like our prejudice against soap, here 
 
128 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 our tribes had a prejudice against soap at first, 
 you know." 
 
 I glanced at her to see if she was in earnest. Evi 
 dently she was. I hesitated, then said, cautiously: 
 
 "But pardon me. They had a prejudice against 
 soap ? Had ? " with falling inflection. 
 
 Yes but that was only at first ; nobody would 
 eat it." 
 
 "Oh, I understand. I didn t get your idea 
 before." 
 
 She resumed : 
 
 It was just a prejudice. The first time soap came 
 here from the foreigners, nobody liked it; but as 
 soon as it got to be fashionable, everybody liked it, 
 and now everybody has it that can afford it. Are 
 you fond of it? " 
 
 1 Yes, indeed ! I should die if I couldn t have it 
 
 especially here. Do you like it? " 
 
 " I just adore it ! Do you like candles? " 
 
 " I regard them as an absolute necessity. Are 
 you fond of them ? 
 
 Her eyes fairly danced, and she exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh! Don t mention it! Candles! and 
 soap! " 
 
 " And fish-interiors ! " 
 
 "And train-oil! " 
 
 "And slush! " 
 
 " And whale-blubber ! " 
 
 "And carrion! and sour-krout ! and beeswax! 
 and tar ! and turpentine ! and molasses ! and " 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 129 
 
 " Don t oh, don t I shall expire with 
 ecstasy ! " 
 
 " And then serve it all up in a slush-bucket, and 
 invite the neighbors and sail in! " 
 
 But this vision of an ideal feast was too much for 
 her, and she swooned away, poor thing. I rubbed 
 snow in her face and brought her to, and after a 
 while got her excitement cooled down. By and by 
 she drifted into her story again : 
 
 "So we began to live here, in the fine house. 
 But I was not happy. The reason was this : I was 
 born for love ; for me there could be no true happi 
 ness without it. I wanted to be loved for myself 
 alone. I wanted an idol, and I wanted to be my 
 idol s idol; nothing less than mutual idolatry would 
 satisfy my fervent nature. I had suitors in plenty 
 in over-plenty, indeed but in each and every 
 case they had a fatal defect; sooner or later I dis 
 covered that defect not one of them failed to be 
 tray it it was not me they wanted, but my wealth." 
 
 4 Your wealth?" 
 
 1 Yes ; for my father is much the richest man in 
 this tribe or in any tribe in these regions." 
 
 I wondered what her father s wealth consisted of. 
 It couldn t be the house anybody could build 
 its mate. It couldn t be the furs they were not 
 valued. It couldn t be the sledge, the dogs, the 
 harpoons, the boat, the bone fish-hooks and needles, 
 and such things no, these were not wealth. Then 
 what could it be that made this man so rich and 
 
13 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 brought this swarm of sordid suitors to his house? 
 It seemed to me, finally, that the best way to find 
 out would be to ask. So I did it. The girl was so 
 manifestly gratified by the question that I saw she 
 had been aching to have me ask it. She was suffer 
 ing fully as much to tell as I was to know. She 
 snuggled confidentially up to me and said : 
 
 " Guess how much he is worth you never can ! " 
 
 I pretended to consider the matter deeply, she 
 watching my anxious and laboring countenance 
 with a devouring and delighted interest; and when, 
 at last, I gave it up and begged her to appease my 
 longing by telling me herself how much this polar 
 Vanderbilt was worth, she put her mouth close to 
 my ear and whispered, impressively: 
 
 " Twenty-two fish-hooks not bone, but foreign 
 made out of real iron ! 
 
 Then she sprang back dramatically, to observe the 
 effect. I did my level best not to disappoint her. 
 
 I turned pale and murmured : 
 
 "Great Scott!" 
 
 " It s as true as you live, Mr. Twain ! " 
 
 " Lasca, you are deceiving me you cannot mean 
 it." 
 
 She was frightened and troubled. She exclaimed : 
 
 "Mr. Twain, every word of it is true every 
 word. You believe me you do believe me, now 
 don t you? Say you believe me do say you be 
 lieve me ! 
 
 "I well, yes, I do I am trying to. But it 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance U 1 
 
 was all so sudden. So sudden and prostrating. 
 You shouldn t do such a thing in that sudden way. 
 It" 
 
 44 Oh, I m so sorry ! If I had only thought " 
 
 "Well, it s all right, and I don t blame you any 
 more, for you are young and thoughtless, and of 
 course you couldn t foresee what an effect " 
 
 14 But oh, dear, I ought certainly to have known 
 better. Why " 
 
 4 You see, Lasca, if you had said five or six 
 hooks, to start with, and then gradually 
 
 44 Oh, I see, I see then gradually added one, 
 and then two, and then ah, why couldn t I have 
 thought of that! " 
 
 Never mind, child, it s all right I am better 
 now I shall be over it in a little while. But to 
 spring the whole twenty-two on a person unprepared 
 and not very strong anyway " 
 
 44 Oh, it was a crime ! But you forgive me say 
 you forgive me. Do ! " 
 
 After harvesting a good deal of very pleasant 
 coaxing and petting and persuading, I forgave her 
 and she was happy again, and by and by she got 
 under way with her narrative once more. I pres 
 ently discovered that the family treasury contained 
 still another feature a jewel of some sort, appar 
 ently and that she was trying to get around speak 
 ing squarely about it, lest I get paralyzed again. 
 But I wanted to know about that thing, too, and 
 urged her to tell me what it was. She was afraid. 
 
132 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 But I insisted, and said I would brace myself this 
 time and be prepared, then the shock would not hurt 
 me. She was full of misgivings, but the temptation 
 to reveal that marvel to me and enjoy my astonish 
 ment and admiration was too strong for her, and she 
 confessed that she had it on her person, and said 
 that if I was sure I was prepared and so on and 
 so on and with that she reached into her bosom 
 and brought out a battered square of brass, watch 
 ing my eye anxiously the while. I fell over against 
 her in a quite well-acted faint, which delighted her 
 heart and nearly frightened it out of her, too, at the 
 same time. When I came to and got calm, she was 
 eager to know what I thought of her jewel. 
 
 44 What do I think of it? I think it is the most 
 exquisite thing I ever saw." 
 
 14 Do you really? How nice of you to say that! 
 But it is a love, now isn t it? " 
 
 44 Well, I should say so! I d rather own it than 
 the equator." 
 
 44 I thought you would admire it," she said. " I 
 think it is so lovely. And there isn t another one in 
 all these latitudes. People have come all the way 
 from the Open Polar Sea to look at it. Did you 
 ever see one before? " 
 
 I said no, this was the first one I had ever seen. 
 It cost me a pang to tell that generous lie, for I had 
 seen a million of them in my time, this humble jewel 
 of hers being nothing but a battered old New York 
 Central baggage check. 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 133 
 
 "Land!" said I, "you don t go about with it 
 on your person this way, alone and with no protec 
 tion, not even a dog? " 
 
 "Ssh! not so loud," she said. "Nobody 
 knows I carry it with me. They think it is in 
 papa s treasury. That is where it generally is." 
 
 " Where is the treasury? " 
 
 It was a blunt question, and for a moment she 
 looked startled and a little suspicious, but I said : 
 
 11 Oh, come, don t you be afraid about me. At 
 home we have seventy millions of people, and 
 although I say it myself that shouldn t, there is not 
 one person among them all but would trust me with 
 untold fish-hooks." 
 
 This reassured her, and she told me where the 
 hooks were hidden in the house. Then she wandered 
 from her course to brag a little about the size of the 
 sheets of transparent ice that formed the windows of 
 the mansion, and asked me if I had ever seen their 
 like at home, and I came right out frankly and con 
 fessed that I hadn t, which pleased her more than 
 she could find words to dress her gratification in. It 
 was so easy to please her, and such a pleasure to do 
 it, that I went on and said : 
 
 "Ah, Lasca, you are a fortunate girl! this 
 beautiful house, this dainty jewel, that rich treasure, 
 all this elegant snow, and sumptuous icebergs and 
 limitless sterility, and public bears and walruses, and 
 noble freedom and largeness, and everybody s admir 
 ing eyes upon you, and everybody s homage and re- 
 
134 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 spect at your command without the asking; young, 
 rich, beautiful, sought, courted, envied, not a re 
 quirement unsatisfied, not a desire ungratified, noth 
 ing to wish for that you cannot have it is immeas 
 urable good fortune ! I have seen myriads of girls, 
 but none of whom these extraordinary things could 
 be truthfully said but you alone. And you are 
 worthy worthy of it all, Lasca I believe it in my 
 heart." 
 
 It made her infinitely proud and happy to hear me 
 say this, and she thanked me over and over again 
 for that closing remark, and her voice and eyes 
 showed that she was touched. Presently she said: 
 
 "Still, it is not all sunshine there is a cloudy 
 side. The burden of wealth is a heavy one to bear. 
 Sometimes I have doubted if it were not better to be 
 poor at least not inordinately rich. It pains me 
 to see neighboring tribesmen stare as they pass by, 
 and overhear them say, reverently, one to another, 
 4 There that is she the millionaire s daughter! 
 And sometimes they say sorrowfully, She is roll 
 ing in fish-hooks, and I I have nothing. It breaks 
 my heart. When I was a child and we were poor, 
 we slept with the door open, if we chose, but now 
 now we have to have a night watchman. In those 
 days my father was gentle and courteous to all ; but 
 now he is austere and haughty, and cannot abide 
 familiarity. Once his family were his sole thought, 
 but now he goes about thinking of his fish-hooks all 
 the time. And his wealth makes everybody cringing 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 135 
 
 and obsequious to him. Formerly nobody laughed 
 at his jokes, they being always stale and far-fetched 
 and poor, and destitute of the one element that can 
 really justify a joke the element of humor; but 
 now everybody laughs and cackles at those dismal 
 things, and if any fails to do it my father is deeply 
 displeased, and shows it. Formerly his opinion was 
 not sought upon any matter and was not valuable 
 when he volunteered it; it has that infirmity yet, 
 but nevertheless it is sought by all and applauded 
 by all and he helps do the applauding himself, 
 having no true delicacy and a plentiful want of tact. 
 He has lowered the tone of all our tribe. Once 
 they were a frank and manly race, now they are 
 measly hypocrites, and sodden with servility. In 
 my heart of hearts I hate all the ways of million 
 aires ! Our tribe was once plain, simple folk, and 
 content with the bone fish-hooks of their fathers; 
 now they are eaten up with avarice and would sacri 
 fice every sentiment of honor and honesty tc possess 
 themselves of the debasing iron fish-hooks of the 
 foreigner. However, I must not dwell on these sad 
 things. As I have said, it was my dream to be 
 loved for myself alone. 
 
 41 At last, this dream seemed about to be fulfilled. 
 A stranger came by, one day, who said his name 
 was Kalula. I told him my name, and he said he 
 loved me. My heart gave a great bound of grati 
 tude and pleasure, for I had loved him at sight, and 
 now I said so. He took me to his breast and said 
 
136 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 he would not wish to be happier than he was now. 
 We went strolling together far over the ice floes, 
 telling all about each other, and planning, oh, the 
 loveliest future ! When we were tired at last we sat 
 down and ate, for he had soap and candles and I 
 had brought along some blubber. We were hungry, 
 and nothing was ever so good. 
 
 " He belonged to a tribe whose haunts were far to 
 the north, and I found that he had never heard of 
 my father, which rejoiced me exceedingly. I mean 
 he had heard of the millionaire, but had never heard 
 his name so, you see, he could not know that I 
 was the heiress. You may be sure that I did not 
 tell him. I was loved for myself at last, and was 
 satisfied. I was so happy oh, happier than you 
 can think ! 
 
 " By and by it was toward supper time, and I led 
 him home. As we approached our house he was 
 amazed, and cried out: 
 
 1 How splendid ! Is that your father s? 
 
 " It gave me a pang to hear that tone and see that 
 admiring light in his eye, but the feeling quickly 
 passed away, for I loved him so, and he looked so 
 handsome and noble. All my family of aunts and 
 uncles and cousins were pleased with him, and many 
 guests were called in, and the house was shut up 
 tight and the rag-lamps lighted, and when everything 
 was hot and comfortable and suffocating, we began 
 a joyous feast in celebration of my betrothal. 
 
 "When the feast was over, my father s vanity 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 137 
 
 overcame him, and he could not resist the temptation 
 to show off his riches and let Kalula see what grand 
 good fortune he had stumbled into and mainly, of 
 course, he wanted to enjoy the poor man s amaze 
 ment. I could have cried but it would have done 
 no good to try to dissuade my father, so I said noth 
 ing, but merely sat there and suffered. 
 
 " My father went straight to the hiding place, in 
 full sight of everybody, and got out the fish-hooks 
 and brought them and flung them scatteringly over 
 my head, so that they fell in glittering confusion on 
 the platform at my lover s knee. 
 
 "Of course, the astounding spectacle took the 
 poor lad s breath away. He could only stare in 
 stupid astonishment, and wonder how a single in 
 dividual could possess such incredible riches. Then 
 presently he glanced brilliantly up and exclaimed : 
 
 " Ah, it is you who are the renowned millionaire ! 
 
 41 My father and all the rest burst into shouts of 
 happy laughter, and when my father gathered the 
 treasure carelessly up as if it might be mere rubbish 
 and of no consequence, and carried it back to its 
 place, poor Kalula s surprise was a study. He said : 
 
 1 4 Is it possible that you put such things away 
 without counting them? 
 
 " My father delivered a vainglorious horse-laugh, 
 and said : 
 
 1 Well, truly, a body may know you have never 
 been rich, since a mere matter of a fish-hook or two 
 is such a mighty matter in your eyes. 
 
138 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 14 Kalula was confused, and hung his head, but 
 said : 
 
 * Ah, indeed, sir, I was never worth the value of 
 the barb of one of those precious things, and I have 
 never seen any man before who was so rich in them 
 as to render the counting of his hoard worth while, 
 since the wealthiest man I have ever known, till now, 
 was possessed of but three. 
 
 11 My foolish father roared again with jejune de 
 light, and allowed the impression to remain that he 
 was not accustomed to count his hooks and keep 
 sharp watch over them. He was showing off, you see. 
 Count them? Why, he counted them every day! 
 
 " I had met and got acquainted with my darling 
 just at dawn; I had brought him home just at dark, 
 three hours afterward for the days were shorten 
 ing toward the six-months night at that time. We 
 kept up the festivities many hours; then, at last, 
 the guests departed and the rest of us distributed 
 ourselves along the walls on sleeping-benches, and 
 soon all were steeped in dreams but me. I was too 
 happy, too excited, to sleep. After I had lain quiet 
 a long, long time, a dim form passed by me and 
 was swallowed up in the gloom that pervaded the 
 farther end of the house. I could not make out 
 who it was, or whether it was man or woman. 
 Presently that figure or another one passed me going 
 the other way. I wondered what it all meant, but 
 wondering did no good ; and while I was still 
 wondering, I fell asleep. 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 139 
 
 11 I do not know how long I slept, but at last I 
 came suddenly broad awake and heard my father 
 say in a terrible voice, * By the great Snow God, 
 there s a fish-hook gone ! Something told me that 
 that meant sorrow for me, and the blood in my veins 
 turned cold. The presentiment was confirmed in 
 the same instant: my father shouted, Up, every 
 body, and seize the stranger ! Then there was an 
 outburst of cries and curses from all sides, and a wild 
 rush of dim forms through the obscurity. I flew to 
 my beloved s help, but what could I do but wait and 
 wring my hands? he was already fenced away 
 from me by a living wall, he was being bound hand 
 and foot. Not until he was secured would they let 
 me get to him. I flung myself upon his poor in 
 sulted form and cried my grief out upon his breast, 
 while my father and all my family scoffed at me and 
 heaped threats and shameful epithets upon him. 
 He bore his ill usage with a tranquil dignity which 
 endeared him to me more than ever, and made me 
 proud and happy to suffer with him and for him. 
 I heard my father order that the elders of the 
 tribe be called together to try my Kalula for his life. 
 
 " What? I said, before any search has been 
 made for the lost hook? 
 
 " Lost hook! they all shouted, in derision; 
 and my father added, mockingly, Stand back, 
 everybody, and be properly serious she is going 
 to hunt up that lost hook; oh, without doubt she 
 will find it ! whereat they all laughed again. 
 
140 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 " I was not disturbed I had no fears, no doubts. 
 I said : 
 
 " It is for you to laugh now; it is your turn 
 But ours is coming; wait and see. 
 
 " I got a rag-lamp. I thought I should find that 
 miserable thing in one little moment; and I set 
 about the matter with such confidence that those 
 people grew grave, beginning to suspect that perhaps 
 they had been too hasty. But, alas and alas ! oh, 
 the bitterness of that search ! There was deep 
 silence while one might count his fingers ten or 
 twelve times, then my heart began to sink, and 
 around me the mockings began again, and grew 
 steadily louder and more assured, until at last, when 
 I gave up, they burst into volley after volley of cruel 
 laughter. 
 
 " None will ever know what I suffered then. But 
 my love was my support and my strength, and I 
 took my rightful place at my Kalula s side, and put 
 my arm about his neck, and whispered in his ear, 
 saying : 
 
 1 You are innocent, my own that I know; but 
 say it to me yourself, for my comfort, then I can 
 bear whatever is in store for us. 
 
 1 He answered : 
 
 As surely as I stand upon the brink of death at 
 this moment, I am innocent. Be comforted, then, 
 O bruised heart; be at peace, O thou breath of my 
 nostrils, life of my life ! 
 
 " Now, then, let the elders come ! and as I 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 14 
 
 said the words there was a gathering sound of 
 crunching snow outside, and then a vision of stoop 
 ing forms filing in at the door the elders. 
 
 My father formally accused the prisoner, and 
 detailed the happenings of the night. He said that 
 the watchman was outside the door, and that in 
 the house were none but the family and the stranger. 
 Would the family steal their own property? 
 
 He paused. The elders sat silent many minutes ; 
 at last, one after another said to his neighbor, * This 
 looks bad for the stranger sorrowful words for 
 me to hear. Then my father sat down. O miser 
 able, miserable me ! at that very moment I could have 
 proved my darling innocent, but I did not know it ! 
 
 1 The chief of the court asked : 
 
 4 Is there any here to defend the prisoner? 
 
 " I rose and said : 
 
 Why should he steal that hook, or any or all of 
 them? In another day he would have been heir to 
 the whole ! 
 
 " I stood waiting. There was a long silence, the 
 steam from the many breaths rising about me like a 
 fog. At last, one elder after another nodded his 
 head slowly several times, and muttered, There is 
 force in what the child has said. Oh, the heart- 
 lift that was in those words ! so transient, but 
 oh, so precious ! I sat down. 
 
 1 If any would say further, let him speak now, 
 or after hold his peace, said the chief of the court. 
 
 " My father rose and said: 
 
142 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 " In the night a form passed by me in the 
 gloom, going toward the treasury, and presently 
 returned. I think, now, it was the stranger. 
 
 " Oh, I was like to swoon ! I had supposed that 
 that was my secret; not the grip of the great Ice 
 God himself could have dragged it out of my heart. 
 
 The chief of the court said sternly to my poor 
 Kalula: 
 
 " Speak! 
 
 " Kalula hesitated, then answered: 
 
 It was I. I could not sleep for thinking of the 
 beautiful hooks. I went there and kissed them and 
 fondled them, to appease my spirit and drown it in 
 a harmless joy, then I put them back. I may have 
 dropped one, but I stole none. 
 
 4< Oh, a fatal admission to make in such a place ! 
 There was an awful hush. I knew he had pro 
 nounced his own doom, and that all was over. On 
 every face you could see the words hieroglyphed : 
 * It is a confession ! and paltry, lame, and thin. 
 
 "I sat drawing in my breath in faint gasps and 
 waiting. Presently, I heard the solemn words I 
 knew were coming; and each word, as it came, was 
 a knife in my heart : 
 
 " * It is the command of the court that the accused 
 be subjected to the trial by water. 
 
 " Oh, curses be upon the head of him who 
 brought trial by water to our land ! It came, 
 generations ago, from some far country, that lies 
 none knows where. Before that, our fathers used 
 
The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 143 
 
 augury and other unsure methods of trial, and 
 doubtless some poor, guilty creatures escaped with 
 their lives sometimes ; but it is not so with trial by 
 water, which is an invention by wiser men than we 
 poor, ignorant savages are. By it the innocent are 
 proved innocent, without doubt or question, for 
 they drown ; and the guilty are proven guilty with 
 the same certainty, for they do not drown. My 
 heart was breaking in my bosom, for I said, He is 
 innocent, and he will go down under the waves and 
 I shall never see him more. 
 
 14 1 never left his side after that. I mourned in his 
 arms all the precious hours, and he poured out the 
 deep stream of his love upon me, and oh, I was so 
 miserable and so happy ! At last, they tore him 
 from me, and I followed sobbing after them, and 
 saw them fling him into the sea then I covered my 
 face with my hands. Agony? Oh, I know the 
 deepest deeps of that word ! 
 
 1 The next moment the people burst into a shout 
 of malicious joy, and I took away my hands, 
 startled. Oh, bitter sight he was swimming! 
 
 1 My heart turned instantly to stone, to ice. I 
 said, He was guilty, and he lied to me ! 
 
 " I turned my back in scorn and went my way 
 homeward. 
 
 They took him far out to sea and set him on an 
 iceberg that was drifting southward in the great 
 waters. Then my family came home, and my 
 father said to me : 
 
144 The Esquimau Maiden s Romance 
 
 " 4 Your thief sent his dying message to you, say 
 ing, " Tell her I am innocent, and that all the days 
 and all the hours and all the minutes while I starve 
 and perish I shall love her and think of her and bless 
 the day that gave me sight of her sweet face." 
 Quite pretty, even poetical ! 
 
 " I said, He is dirt let me never hear mention 
 of him again. And oh, to think he was inno 
 cent all the time ! 
 
 "Nine months nine dull, sad months went 
 by, and at last came the day of the Great Annual 
 Sacrifice, when all the maidens of the tribe wash 
 their faces and comb their hair. With the first 
 sweep of my comb, out came the fatal fish-hook 
 from where it had been all those months nestling, 
 and I fell fainting into the arms of my remorseful 
 father! Groaning, he said, We murdered him, 
 and I shall never smile again ! He has kept his 
 word. Listen: from that day to this not a month 
 goes by that I do not comb my hair. But oh, where 
 is the good of it all now ! 
 
 So ended the poor maid s humble little tale 
 whereby we learn that, since a hundred million dol 
 lars in New York and twenty-two fish-hooks on the 
 border of the Arctic Circle represent the same 
 financial supremacy, a man in straitened circum 
 stances is a fool to stay in New York when he can 
 buy ten cents worth of fish-hooks and emigrate. 
 
MY FIRST LIE, AND HOW I GOT OUT 
 OF IT 
 
 AS I understand it, what you desire is information 
 about " my first lie, and how I got out of it." 
 I was born in 1835; I am we ^ a l n g> an d my 
 memory is not as good as it was. If you had asked 
 about my first truth it would have been easier for 
 me and kinder of you, for I remember that fairly 
 well; I remember it as if it were last week. The 
 family think it was week before, but that is flattery 
 and probably has a selfish project back of it. When 
 a person has become seasoned by experience and 
 has reached the age of sixty-four, which is the age 
 of discretion, he likes a family compliment as well 
 as ever, but he does not lose his head over it as in 
 the old innocent days. 
 
 I do not remember my first lie, it is too far back; 
 but I remember my second one very well. I was 
 nine days old at the time, and had noticed that if a 
 pin was sticking in me and I advertised it in the 
 usual fashion, I was lovingly petted and coddled and 
 pitied in a most agreeable way and got a ration be 
 tween meals besides. It was human nature to want 
 
 (145) 
 
146 My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 
 
 to get these riches, and I fell. I lied about the pin 
 advertising one when there wasn t any. You 
 would have done it; George Washington did it; 
 anybody would have done it. During the first half 
 of my life I never knew a child that was able to rise 
 above that temptation and keep from telling that lie. 
 Up to 1867 all the civilized children that were ever 
 born into the world were liars including George. 
 Then the safety-pin came in and blocked the game. 
 But is that reform worth anything? No; for it is 
 reform by force and has no virtue in it; it merely 
 stops that form of lying; it doesn t impair the dis 
 position to lie, by a shade. It is the cradle applica 
 tion of conversion by fire and sword, or of the tem 
 perance principle through prohibition. 
 
 To return to that early lie. They found no pin, 
 and they realized that another liar had been added 
 to the world s supply. For by grace of a rare in 
 spiration, a quite commonplace but seldom noticed 
 fact was borne in upon their understandings that 
 almost all lies are acts, and speech has no part in 
 them. Then, if they examined a little further they 
 recognized that all people are liars from the cradle 
 onward, without exception, and that they begin to 
 lie as soon as they wake in the morning, and keep it 
 up, without rest or refreshment, until they go to 
 sleep at night. If they arrived at that truth it prob 
 ably grieved them did, if they had been heedlessly 
 and ignorantly educated by their books and teachers ; 
 for why should a person grieve over a thing which 
 
My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 147 
 
 by the eternal law of his make he cannot help? He 
 didn t invent the law; it is merely his business to 
 obey it and keep still ; join the universal conspiracy 
 and keep so still that he shall deceive his fellow-con 
 spirators into imagining that he doesn t know that 
 the law exists. It is what we all do we that know. 
 I am speaking of the lie of silent assertion ; we can 
 tell it without saying a word, and we all do it we 
 that know. In the magnitude of its territorial spread 
 it is one of the most majestic lies that the civiliza 
 tions make it their sacred and anxious care to guard 
 and watch and propagate. 
 
 For instance : It would not be possible for a 
 humane and intelligent person to invent a rational 
 excuse for slavery; yet you will remember that in 
 the early days of the emancipation agitation in the 
 North, the agitators got but small help or counte 
 nance from any one. Argue and plead and pray as 
 they might, they could not break the universal still 
 ness that reigned, from pulpit and press all the way 
 down to the bottom of society- the clammy still 
 ness created and maintained by the lie of silent asser 
 tion the silent assertion that there wasn t anything 
 going on in which humane and intelligent people 
 were interested. 
 
 From the beginning of the Dreyfus case to the end 
 of it, all France, except a couple of dozen moral 
 paladins, lay under the smother of the silent-asser 
 tion lie that no wrong was being done to a perse 
 cuted and unoffending man. The like smother 
 
148 My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 
 
 was over England lately, a good half of the popula 
 tion silently letting on that they were not aware 
 that Mr. Chamberlain was trying to manufacture a 
 war in South Africa and was willing to pay fancy 
 prices for the materials. 
 
 Now there we have instances of three prominent 
 ostensible civilizations working the silent-assertion 
 lie. Could one find other instances in the three 
 countries? I think so. Not so very many, per 
 haps, but say a billion just so as to keep within 
 bounds. Are those countries working that kind of 
 lie, day in and day out, in thousands and thousands 
 of varieties, without ever resting? Yes, we know that 
 to be true. The universal conspiracy of the silent- 
 assertion lie is hard at work always and everywhere, 
 and always in the interest of a stupidity or a sham, 
 never in the interest of a thing fine or respectable. 
 Is it the most timid and shabby of all lies? It 
 seems to have the look of it. For ages and ages it 
 has mutely labored in the interest of despotisms and 
 aristocracies and chattel slaveries, and military 
 slaveries, and religious slaveries, and has kept them 
 alive; keeps them alive yet, here and there and 
 yonder, all about the globe ; and will go on keeping 
 them alive until the silent-assertion lie retires from 
 business the silent assertion that nothing is going 
 on which fair and intelligent men are aware of and 
 are engaged by their duty to try to stop. 
 
 What I am arriving at is this : When whole races 
 and peoples conspire to propagate gigantic mute lies 
 
My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 149 
 
 in the interest of tyrannies and shams, why should 
 we care anything about the trifling lies told by in 
 dividuals? Why should we try to make it appear 
 that abstention from lying is a virtue ? Why should 
 we want to beguile ourselves in that way? Why 
 should we without shame help the nation lie, and 
 then be ashamed to do a little lying on our own 
 account? Why shouldn t we be honest and honor 
 able, and lie every time we get a chance? That is 
 to say, why shouldn t we be consistent, and either 
 lie all the time or not at all? Why should we help 
 the nation lie the whole day long and then object to 
 telling one little individual private lie in our own 
 interest to go to bed on? Just for the refreshment 
 of it, I mean, and to take the rancid taste out of our 
 mouth. 
 
 Here in England they have the oddest ways. 
 They won t tell a spoken lie nothing can persuade 
 them. Except in a large moral interest, like politics 
 or religion, I mean. To tell a spoken lie to get 
 even the poorest little personal advantage out of it is 
 a thing which is impossible to them. They make 
 me ashamed of myself sometimes, they are so 
 bigoted. They will not even tell a lie for the fun of 
 it; they will not tell it when it hasn t even a sugges 
 tion of damage or advantage in it for any one. This 
 has a restraining influence upon me in spite of 
 reason, and I am always getting out of practice. 
 
 Of course, they tell all sorts of little unspoken lies, 
 just like anybody; but they don t notice it until their 
 10 
 
150 My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 
 
 attention is called to it. They have got me so that 
 sometimes I never tell a verbal lie now except in a 
 modified form ; and even in the modified form they 
 don t approve of it. Still, that is as far as I can go 
 in the interest of the growing friendly relations 
 between the two countries ; I must keep some of my 
 self-respect and my health. I can live on a low 
 diet, but I can t get along on no sustenance at all. 
 
 Of course, there are times when these people have 
 to come out with a spoken lie, for that is a thing 
 which happens to everybody once in a while, and 
 would happen to the angels if they came down here 
 much. Particularly to the angels, in fact, for the 
 lies I speak of are self-sacrificing ones told for a gen 
 erous object, not a mean one ; but even when these 
 people tell a lie of that sort it seems to scare them 
 and unsettle their minds. It is a wonderful thing to 
 see, and shows that they are all insane. In fact, it 
 is a country full of the most interesting superstitions. 
 
 I have an English friend of twenty-five years 
 standing, and yesterday when we were coming down 
 town on top of the bus I happened to tell him a lie 
 a modified one, of course; a half-breed, a 
 mulatto: I can t seem to tell any other kind now, 
 the market is so flat. I was explaining to him how 
 I got out of an embarrassment in Austria last year. 
 I do not know what might have become of me if I 
 hadn t happened to remember to tell the police that 
 I belonged to the same family as the Prince of 
 Wales. That made everything pleasant and they let 
 
My First Lie, and How 1 Got Out of It 151 
 
 me go; and apologized, too, and were ever so kind 
 and obliging and polite, and couldn t do too much 
 for me, and explained how the mistake came to be 
 made, and promised to hang the officer that did it, 
 and hoped I would let bygones be bygones and not 
 say anything about it ; and I said they could depend 
 on me. My friend said, austerely: 
 
 "You call it a modified lie? Where is the 
 modification? " 
 
 I explained that it lay in the form of my state 
 ment to the police. 
 
 41 I didn t say I belonged to the royal family: I 
 only said I belonged to the same family as the Prince 
 meaning the human family, of course; and if 
 those people had had any penetration they would 
 have known it. I can t go around furnishing brains 
 to the police; it is not to be expected." 
 
 14 How did you feel after that performance? " 
 
 " Well, of course I was distressed to find that the 
 police had misunderstood me, but as long as I had 
 not told any lie I knew there was no occasion to sit 
 up nights and worry about it." 
 
 My friend struggled with the case several minutes, 
 turning it over and examining it in his mind ; then he 
 said that so far as he could see the modification was 
 itself a lie, being a misleading reservation of an ex 
 planatory fact; so I had told two lies instead of one. 
 
 4 I wouldn t have done it," said he: "I have 
 never told a lie, and I should be very sorry to do 
 such a thing." 
 
152 My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 
 
 Just then he lifted his hat and smiled a basketful 
 of surprised and delighted smiles down at a gentle 
 man who was passing in a hansom. 
 
 41 Who was that, G -? 1 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 " Then why did you do that? " 
 
 Because I saw he thought he knew me and was 
 expecting it of me. If I hadn t done it he would 
 have been hurt. I didn t want to embarrass him 
 before the whole street." 
 
 "Well, your heart was right, G , and your 
 
 act was right. What you did was kindly and 
 courteous and beautiful; I would have done it 
 myself: but it was a lie." 
 
 "A lie? I didn t say a word. How do you 
 make it out? " 
 
 "I know you didn t speak, still you said to him 
 very plainly and enthusiastically in dumb show, 
 Hello ! you in town? Awful glad to see you, old 
 fellow; when did you get back? Concealed in 
 your actions was what you have called a misleading 
 reservation of an explanatory fact the fact that 
 you had never seen him before. You expressed joy 
 in encountering him-- a lie; and you made that 
 reservation * another lie. It was my pair over 
 again. But don t be troubled we all do it." 
 
 Two hours later, at dinner, when quite other mat 
 ters were being discussed, he told how he happened 
 along once just in the nick of time to do a great serv 
 ice for a family who were old friends of his. The 
 
My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 153 
 
 head of it had suddenly died in circumstances and 
 surroundings of a ruinously disgraceful character. 
 If known, the facts would break the hearts of the 
 innocent family and put upon them a load of unen 
 durable shame. There was no help but in a giant 
 lie, and he girded up his loins and told it. 
 4 The family never found out, G ? " 
 
 " Never. In all these years they have never sus 
 pected. They were proud of him, and always had 
 reason to be ; they are proud of him yet, and to them 
 his memory is sacred and stainless and beautiful." 
 They had a narrow escape, G ." 
 
 "Indeed they had." 
 
 1 4 For the very next man that came along might 
 have been one of these heartless and shameless truth- 
 mongers. You have told the truth a million times 
 
 in your life, G , but that one golden lie atones 
 
 for it all. Persevere." 
 
 Some may think me not strict enough in my 
 morals, but that position is hardly tenable. There 
 are many kinds of lying which I do not approve. 
 I do not like an injurious lie, except when it injures 
 somebody else ; and I do not like the lie of bravado, 
 nor the lie of virtuous ecstasy : the latter was affected 
 by Bryant, the former by Carlyle. 
 
 Mr. Bryant said, "Truth crushed to earth will 
 rise again." 
 
 I have taken medals at thirteen world s fairs, and 
 may claim to be not without capacity, but I never 
 told as big a one as that which Mr. Bryant was play- 
 
154 My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 
 
 ing to the gallery; we all do it. Carlyle said, in 
 substance, this I do not remember the exact 
 words : This gospel is eternal that a lie shall 
 not live." 
 
 I have a reverent affection for Carlyle s books, 
 and have read his Revolution eight times ; and so I 
 prefer to think he was not entirely at himself when 
 he told that one. To me it is plain that he said it in 
 a moment of excitement, when chasing Americans 
 out of his back-yard with brickbats. They used to 
 go there and worship. At bottom he was probably 
 fond of them, but he was always able to conceal it. 
 He kept bricks for them, but he was not a good 
 shot, and it is matter of history that when he fired 
 they dodged, and carried off the brick; for as a 
 nation we like relics, and so long as we get them we 
 do not much care what the reliquary thinks about it. 
 I am quite sure that when he told that large one 
 about a lie not being able to live, he had just missed 
 an American and was over-excited. He told it above 
 thirty years ago, but it is alive yet; alive, and very 
 healthy and hearty, and likely to outlive any fact in 
 history. Carlyle was truthful when calm, but give 
 him Americans enough and bricks enough and he 
 could have taken medals himself. 
 
 As regards that time that George Washington told 
 the truth, a word must be said, of course. It is the 
 principal jewel in the crown of America, and it is 
 but natural that we should work it for all it is 
 worth, as Milton says in his " Lay of the Last Min- 
 
My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 155 
 
 strel." It was a timely and judicious truth, and I 
 should have told it myself in the circumstances. 
 But I should have stopped there. It was a stately 
 truth, a lofty truth a Tower; and I think it was a 
 mistake to go on and distract attention from its sub 
 limity by building another Tower alongside of it 
 fourteen times as high. I refer to his remark that 
 he * could not lie. I should have fed that to the 
 marines : or left it to Carlyle ; it is just in his style. 
 It would have taken a medal at any European fair, 
 and would have got an Honorable Mention even at 
 Chicago if it had been saved up. But let it pass: 
 the Father of his Country was excited. I have been 
 in those circumstances, and I recollect. 
 
 With the truth he told I have no objection to 
 offer, as already indicated. I think it was not pre 
 meditated, but an inspiration. With his fine mili 
 tary mind, he had probably arranged to let his 
 brother Edward in for the cherry-tree results, but 
 by an inspiration he saw his opportunity in time and 
 took advantage of it. By telling the truth he could 
 astonish his father ; his father would tell the neigh 
 bors ; the neighbors would spread it ; it would travel 
 to all firesides ; in the end it would make him Presi 
 dent, and not only that, but First President. He 
 was a far-seeing boy and would be likely to think of 
 these things. Therefore, to my mind, he stands 
 justified for what he did. But not for the other 
 Tower: it was a mistake. Still, I don t know about 
 that; upon reflection I think perhaps it wasn t. For 
 
156 My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It 
 
 indeed it is that Tower that makes the other one live. 
 If he hadn t said " I cannot tell a lie," there would 
 have been no convulsion. That was the earthquake 
 that rocked the planet. That is the kind of state 
 ment that lives forever, and a fact barnacled to it 
 has a good chance to share its immortality. 
 
 To sum up, on the whole I am satisfied with 
 things the way they are. There is a prejudice 
 against the spoken lie, but none against any other, 
 and by examination and mathematical computation 
 I find that the proportion of the spoken lie to the 
 other varieties is as I to 22,894. Therefore the 
 spoken lie is of no consequence, and it is not worth 
 while to go around fussing about it and trying to 
 make believe that it is an important matter. The 
 silent colossal National Lie that is the support and 
 confederate of all the tyrannies and shams and in 
 equalities and unfairnesses that afflict the peoples 
 that is the one to throw bricks and sermons at. But 
 let us be judicious and let somebody else begin. 
 
 And then But I have wandered from my text. 
 How did I get out of my second lie? I think I got 
 out with honor, but I cannot be sure, for it was a 
 long time ago and some of the details have faded 
 out of my memory. I recollect that I was reversed 
 and stretched across some one s knee, and that 
 something happened, but I cannot now remember 
 what it was. I think there was music ; but it is all 
 dim now and blurred by the lapse of time, and this 
 may be only a senile fancy. 
 
THE BELATED RUSSIAN PASSPORT 
 
 One Fly Makes a Summer. PudtVnhead Wilson s Calendar 
 
 S GREAT beer-saloon m *ke- Fried richstrasse, 
 Berlin, toward mid-afternoon. { At a hundred 
 round tables gentlemen sat smoking and drinking; 
 flitting here and there and everywhere were white- 
 aproned waiters bearing foaming mugs to the thirsty. 
 At a table near the main entrance were grouped half 
 a dozen lively young fellows American students 
 drinking goodby to a visiting Yale youth on his 
 travels, who had been spending a few days in the 
 German capital. 
 
 14 But why do you cut your tour short in the 
 middle, Parrish?" asked one of the students. * I 
 wish I had your chance. What do you want to go 
 home for?" 
 
 44 Yes," said another, 44 what is the idea? You 
 want to explain, you know, because it looks like in 
 sanity. Homesick ? 
 
 tt57) 
 
158 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 A girlish blush rose in Parrish s fresh young face, 
 and after a little hesitation he confessed that that 
 was his trouble. 
 
 " I was never away from home before," he said, 
 " and every day I get more and more lonesome. I 
 have not seen a friend for weeks, and it s been hor 
 rible. I meant to stick the trip through, for pride s 
 sake, but seeing you boys has finished me. It s 
 been heaven to me, and I can t take up that com- 
 panionless dreariness again. If I had company 
 but I haven t, you know, so it s no use. They used 
 to call me Miss Nancy when I was a small chap, and 
 I reckon I m that yet girlish and tiinorous> and 
 all that. I ought to have been a girl ! I can t stand 
 it; I m going home." 
 
 The boys rallied him good-naturedly, and said he 
 was making the mistake of his life ; and one of them 
 added that he ought at least to see St. Petersburg 
 before turning back. 
 
 "Don t!" said Parrish, appealingly. " It was 
 my dearest dream, and I m throwing it away. 
 Don t say a word more on that head, for I m made 
 of water, and can t stand out against anybody s 
 persuasion. I can t go alone; I think I should die." 
 f He slapped his breast pocket, and added: " Here 
 is my protection against a change of mind; I ve 
 bought ticket and sleeper for Paris, and I leave to 
 night. Drink, now this is on me bumpers 
 this is for home! ^ 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 159 
 
 The goodbyes were said, and Alfred Parrish was 
 left to his thoughts and his loneliness. But for a 
 moment only. A sturdy middle-aged man with a 
 brisk and businesslike bearing, and an air of decision 
 and confidence suggestive of military training, came 
 bustling from the next table, and seated himself at 
 Parrish s side, and began to speak, with concen 
 trated interest and earnestness. His eyes, his face, 
 his person, his whole system, seemed to exude 
 energy. ( He was full of steam racing pressure 
 one could almost hear his gauge-cocks sing. ) He ex 
 tended a frank hand, shook Parrish s cordially, and 
 said, with a most convincing air of strenuous convic 
 tion: 
 
 "Ah, but you mustn t; really you mustn t; it 
 would be the greatest mistake; you would always 
 regret it. Be persuaded, I beg you; don t do it 
 don t!" 
 
 ( There was such a friendly note in it, and such a 
 seeming of genuineness, that it brought a sort of up 
 lift to the youth s despondent spirits, and a telltale 
 moisture betrayed itself in his eyes, an unintentional 
 confession that he was touched and grateful* The 
 alert stranger noted that sign, was quite content with 
 that response, and followed up his advantage 
 without waiting for a spoken one : 
 
 " No, don t do it; it would be a mistake. I have 
 heard everything that was said you will pardon 
 that I was so close by that I couldn t help it. 
 
160 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 And it troubled me to think that you would cut 
 your travels short when you really want to see St. 
 Petersburg, and are right here almost in sight of it ! 
 Reconsider it ah, you must reconsider it. It is 
 such a short distance it is very soon done and 
 very soon over and think what a memory it 
 will be! 1 
 
 Then he went on and made a picture of the Rus 
 sian capital and its wonders, which made Alfred 
 Parrish s mouth water and his roused spirits cry out 
 with longing. Then N 
 
 " Of course you must see St. Petersburg you 
 must ! Why, it will be a joy to you a joy ! I 
 know, because I know the place as familiarly as I 
 know my own birthplace in America. Ten years 
 I ve known it ten years. Ask anybody there; 
 they ll tell you ; they all know me Major Jackson. 
 The very dogs know me. Do go; oh, you must 
 go; you must, indeed." 
 
 Alfred Parrish was quivering with eagerness now. 
 He would go. His face said it as plainly as his 
 tongue could have done it. Then the old shadow 
 fell, and he said, sorrowfully: 
 
 " Oh no no, it s no use; I can t. I should die 
 of the loneliness." 
 
 The Major said, with astonishment: "The 
 loneliness ! Why, I m going with you !" 
 
 It was startlingly unexpected. And not quite 
 pleasant. Things were moving too rapidly. Was 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 161 
 
 this a trap? Was this stranger a sharper? Whence 
 all this gratuitous interest in a wandering and un 
 known lad? Then he glanced at the Major s frank 
 and winning and beaming face, and was ashamed; 
 and wished he knew how to get out of this scrape 
 without hurting the feelings of its contriver. But he 
 was not handy in matters of diplomacy, and went at 
 the difficulty with conscious awkwardness and small 
 confidence. He said, with a quite overdone show of 
 unselfishness : 
 
 "Oh no, no, you are too kind; I couldn t I 
 couldn t allow you to put yourself to such an incon 
 venience on my " 
 
 11 Inconvenience? None in the world, my boy; I 
 was going to-night, anyway ; I leave in the express 
 at nine. Come! we ll go together. You sha n t 
 be lonely a single minute. Come along say the 
 word!" 
 
 So that excuse had failed. What to do now? 
 Parrish was disheartened ; it seemed to him that no 
 subterfuge which his poor invention could contrive 
 would ever rescue him from these toils. Still, he 
 must make another effort, and he did ; and before 
 he had finished his new excuse he thought he recog 
 nized that it was unanswerable : 
 
 \"Ah, but most unfortunately luck is against me, 
 and it is impossible. Look at these" and he 
 took out his tickets and laid them on the table. 
 " I am booked through to Paris, and I couldn t get 
 
162 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 these tickets and baggage coupons changed for St. 
 Petersburg, of course, and would have to lose the 
 money; and if I could afford to lose the money I 
 should be rather short after I bought the new tickets 
 for there is all the cash I ve got about me" 
 and he laid a five-hundred-mark bank-note on the 
 table. 
 
 In a moment the Major had the tickets and cou 
 pons and was on his feet, and saying, with enthu 
 siasm : 
 
 "Good! It s all right, and everything safe. 
 They ll change the tickets and baggage pasters for 
 me; they all know me everybody knows me. 
 Sit right where you are; I ll be back right away." 
 Then he reached for the bank-note, and added, " I ll 
 take this along, for there will be a little extra pay 
 on the new tickets, maybe " and the next moment 
 he was flying out at the door. 
 
 II. 
 
 Alfred Parrish was paralyzed. It was all so 
 sudden. So sudden, so daring, so incredible, so 
 impossible. His mouth was open, but his tongue 
 wouldn t work; he tried to shout " Stop him," 
 but his lungs were empty, he wanted to pur 
 sue, but his legs refused to do anything but 
 tremble; then they gave way under him and let 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 163 
 
 him down into his chair. His throat was dry, he 
 was gasping and swallowing with dismay, his head 
 was in a whirl. What must he do? He did not 
 know. One thing seemed plain, however he must 
 pull himself together, and try to overtake that man. 
 Of course the man could not get back the ticket- 
 money, but would he throw the tickets away on that 
 account? No; he would certainly go to the station 
 and sell them to some one at half-price ; and to-day, 
 too, for they would be worthless to-morrow, by Ger 
 man custom. These reflections gave him hope and 
 strength, and he rose and started. But he took only 
 a couple of steps, then he felt a sudden sickness, 
 and tottered back to his chair again, weak with a 
 dread that his movement had been noticed for the 
 last round of beer was at his expense ; it had not 
 been paid for, and he hadn t a pfennig. He was a 
 prisoner Heaven only could know what might 
 happen if he tried to leave the place. He was timid, 
 scared, crushed; and he had not German enough to 
 state his case and beg for help and indulgence.; 
 
 Then his thoughts began to persecute him. How 
 could he have been such a fool? What possessed 
 him to listen to such a manifest adventurer? And 
 here comes the waiter ! He buried himself in the 
 newspaper trembling. The waiter passed by. It 
 filled him with thankfulness. The hands of the clock 
 seemed to stand still, yet he could not keep his eyes 
 from them. 
 
164 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 Ten minutes dragged by. The waiter again! 
 Again he hid behind the paper. The waiter paused 
 
 apparently a week then passed on. 
 
 Another ten minutes of misery once more the 
 waiter; this time he wiped off the table, and seemed 
 to be a month at it; then paused two months, and 
 went away. 
 
 Parrish felt that he could not endure another visit ; 
 he must take the chances : he must run the gauntlet ; 
 he must escape. But the waiter stayed around about 
 the neighborhood for five minutes months and 
 months seemingly, Parrish watching him with a 
 despairing eye, and feeling the infirmities of age 
 creeping upon him and his hair gradually turning 
 gray. 
 
 At last the waiter wandered away stopped at a 
 table, collected a bill, wandered farther, collected 
 another bill, wandered farther Parrish s praying 
 eye riveted on him all the time, his heart thumping, 
 his breath coming and going in quick little gasps of 
 anxiety mixed with hope. 
 
 The waiter stopped again to collect, and Parrish 
 said to himself, it is now or never ! and started for 
 the door. One step two steps three four 
 
 he was nearing the door five his legs shaking 
 under him was that a swift step behind him ? 
 the thought shriveled his heart six steps seven, 
 and he was out ! eight nine ten eleven 
 twelve there is a pursuing step ! - he turned the 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 165 
 
 corner, and picked up his heels to fly a heavy 
 hand fell on his shoulder, and the strength went out 
 of his body ! 
 
 It was the Major. He asked not a question, he 
 showed no surprise. He said, in his breezy and ex 
 hilarating fashion : 
 
 " Confound those people, they delayed me; 
 that s why I was gone so long. New man in the 
 ticket-office, and he didn t know me, and wouldn t 
 make the exchange because it was irregular; so I 
 had to hunt up my old friend, the great- megtti 
 the station-master, you know hi, there, cab ! cab ! 
 jump in, Parrish ! Russian consulate, cabby, 
 and let them fly! so, as I say, that all cost time. 
 But it s all right now, and everything straight; 
 / your luggage reweighed, rechecked, fare-ticket and 
 sleeper changed, and I ve got the documents for it in 
 my pocket; also the change I ll keep it for you. 
 Whoop along, cabby, whoop along; don t let them 
 go to sleep!" 
 
 Poor Parrish was trying his best to get in a word 
 edgeways, as the cab flew farther and farther from 
 the bilked beer-hall, and now at last he succeeded, 
 and wanted to return at once and pay his little bill. 
 
 11 Oh, never mind about that," said the Major, 
 placidly; "that s all right, they know me, every 
 body knows me I ll square it next time I m in 
 Berlin push along, cabby, push along no great 
 lot of time to spare, now."J| 
 
 U 
 
166 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 They arrived at the Russian consulate, a moment 
 after-hours, and hurried in. No one there but a 
 clerk. The Major laid his card on the desk, and 
 said, in the Russian tongue, "Now, then, if you ll 
 vise this young man s passport for Petersburg as 
 quickly as " 
 
 41 But, dear sir, I m not authorized, and the con 
 sul has just gone." 
 
 44 Gone where?" 
 
 ** Out in the country, where he lives." 
 
 And he ll be back" 
 
 " Not till morning." 
 
 41 Thunder! Oh, well, look here, I m Major 
 Jackson he knows me, everybody knows me. 
 You vise it yourself; tell him Major Jackson asked 
 you; it ll be all right." 
 
 But it would be desperately and fatally irregular; 
 the clerk could not be persuaded ; he almost fainted 
 at the idea. 
 
 44 Well, then, I ll tell you what you do," said the 
 Major. ll Here s stamps and the fee vise* it in the 
 morning, and start it along by mail." 
 
 The clerk said, dubiously, 4< He well, he may 
 perhaps do it, and so " 
 
 1 May ? He will! He knows me everybody 
 knows me." 
 
 41 Very well," said the clerk, " I will tell him what 
 you say." He looked bewildered, and in a measure 
 subjugated ; and added, timidly : 44 But but you 
 
The Behted Russian Passport 167 
 
 know you will beat it to the frontier twenty-four 
 hours. There are no accommodations there for so 
 long a wait." 
 
 4 Who s going to wait? Not I, if the court 
 knows herself." 
 
 The clerk was temporarily paralyzed, and said, 
 11 Surely, sir, you don t wish it sent to Petersburg!" 
 
 44 And why not?" 
 
 44 And the owner of it tarrying at the frontier, 
 twenty-five miles away? It couldn t do him any 
 good, in those circumstances." 
 
 * Tarry the mischief ! Who said he was going 
 to do any tarrying? " 
 
 * Why, you know, of course, they ll stop him at 
 the frontier if he has no passport." 
 
 44 Indeed they won t ! The Chief Inspector knows 
 me everybody does. I ll be responsible for the 
 young man. You send it straight through to Peters 
 burg Hotel de 1 Europe, care Major Jackson : tell 
 the consul not to worry, I m taking all the risks 
 myself." 
 
 The clerk hesitated, then chanced one more 
 appeal : 
 
 4 You must bear in mind, sir, that the risks are 
 peculiarly serious, just now. The new edict is in 
 force." 
 
 44 What is it?" 
 
 4 Ten years in Siberia for being in Russia without 
 a passport." 
 
168 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 ! " Mm damnation !"[ He said it in English, for 
 the Russian tongue is but\a poor stand-by in spiritual 
 emergencies. He mused a x moment, then brisked 
 up and resumed in Russian:) 4 Oh, it s all right 
 label her St. Petersburg and let her sail! I ll fix. it. 
 They all know me there all the authorities 
 everybody." 
 
 III. 
 
 (The Major turned out to be an adorable traveling 
 companion, and young Parrish was charmed with 
 him. / His talk was sunshine and rainbows, and lit 
 up the whole region around, and kept it gay and 
 happy and cheerful ; and he was full of accommoda 
 ting ways, and knew all about how to do things, and 
 when to do them, and the best way. So the long 
 journey was a fairy dream for that young lad who 
 had been so lonely and forlorn and friendless so 
 many homesick weeks. At last, \when the two 
 travelers were approaching the frontier, Parrish said 
 something about passports; then started, as if recol 
 lecting something, and added : 
 
 ** Why, come to think, I don t remember your 
 bringing my passport away from the consulate. 
 But you did, didn t you? " 
 
 " No ; it s coming by mail," said the Major, com 
 fortably. 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 169 
 
 1 K coming by mail ! gasped the lad ; 
 and all the dreadful things he had heard about the 
 terrors and disasters of passportless visitors to 
 Russia rose in his frightened mind and turned him 
 white to the lips. ) Oh, Major oh, my goodness, 
 what will become of me ! How could you do such a 
 thing? " 
 
 The Major laid a soothing hand upon the youth s 
 shoulder and said : 
 
 " Now don t you worry, my boy, don t you worry 
 a bit. I m taking care of you, and I m not going 
 to let any harm come to you. The Chief Inspector 
 knows me, and I ll explain to him, and it ll be all 
 right you ll see. Now don t you give yourself 
 the least discomfort I ll fix it all up, easy as 
 nothing." 
 
 Alfred trembled, and felt a great sinking inside, 
 but he did what he could to conceal his misery, and 
 to respond with some show of heart to the Major s 
 kindly pettings and reassurings.) 
 
 At the frontier he got out and stood on the edge 
 of the great crowd, and waited in deep anxiety 
 while the Major plowed his way through the mass 
 to " explain to the Chief Inspector." It seemed a 
 cruelly long wait, but at last the Major reappeared. 
 He said, cheerfully, " Damnation, it s a new in 
 spector, and I don t know him !" 
 
 Alfred fell up against a pile of trunks, with a des 
 pairing, " Oh, dear, dear, I might have known it! " 
 
, 
 
 170 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 and was slumping limp and helpless to the ground, 
 but the Major gathered him up and seated him on a 
 box, and sat down by him, with a supporting arm 
 around him, and whispered in his ear: 
 
 "Don t worry, laddie, don t it s going to be 
 afi right; you just trust to me. The sub-inspector s 
 as near-sighted as a shad. I watched him, and I 
 know it s so. Now I ll tell you how to do. I ll go 
 and get my passport chalked, then I ll stop right 
 yonder inside the grille where you see those peasants 
 with their packs. You be there, and I ll back up 
 against the grille, and slip my passport to you 
 through the bars, then you tag along after the 
 crowd and hand it in, and trust to Providence and 
 that shad. Mainly the shad. You ll pull through 
 all right now don t you be afraid." 
 
 " But, oh dear, dear, your description and mine 
 don t tally any more than " 
 
 14 Oh, that s all light difference between fifty- 
 one and nineteen just entirely imperceptible to 
 that shad don t you fret, it s going to come out 
 as right as nails." 
 
 Ten minutes later Alfred was tottering toward the 
 train, pale, and in a collapse, but he had played the 
 shad successfully, and was as grateful as an un taxed 
 dog that has evaded the police. 
 
 " I told you so," said the Major, in splendid 
 spirits. " I knew it would come out all right if you 
 trusted in Providence like a little trusting child and 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 171 
 
 try to improve- o-~ His- ideas--- it always 
 does." 
 
 Between the frontier and Petersburg the Major laid 
 himself out to restore his young comrade s life, and 
 work up his circulation, and pull him out of his des 
 pondency, and make him feel again that life was a 
 joy and worth living. And so, as a consequence^ 
 the young fellow entered the city in high feather and 
 marched into the hotel in Jine_.form, and registered 
 his name. But instead of naming a room, the 
 clerk glanced at him inquiringly, and waited. The 
 Major came promptly to the rescue, and said, cor 
 dially: 
 
 " It s all right -you know me set him down, 
 I m responsible." The clerk looked grave, and 
 shook his head. The Major added : " It s all right, 
 it ll be here in twenty-four hours it s coming 
 by mail. Here s mine, and his is coming, right 
 along." 
 
 The clerk was full of politeness, full of deference, 
 but he was firm. He said, in English: 
 
 " Indeed, I wish I could accommodate you, 
 Major, and certainly I would if I could ; but I have 
 no choice, I must ask him to go ; I cannot allow him 
 to remain in the house a moment." 
 
 Parrish began to totter, and emitted a moan ; the 
 Major caught him and stayed him with an arm, and 
 said to the clerk, appealingly : 
 
 " Come, you know me everybody does just 
 
172 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 let him stay here the one night, and I give you my 
 word-" 
 
 The clerk shook his head, and said: 
 
 " But, Major, you are endangering me, you are 
 endangering the house. I I hate to do such a 
 thing, but I I must call the police." 
 
 " Hold on, don t do that. Come along, my boy, 
 and don t you fret it s going to come out all 
 right. Hi, there, cabby! Jump in, Parrish. 
 Palace of the General of the Secret Police turn 
 them loose, cabby ! Let them go ! Make them 
 whiz! Now we re off, and don t you give yourself 
 any uneasiness. Prince Bossloffsky knows me ; 
 knows me like a book; he ll soon fix things all right 
 for us." 
 
 They tore through the gay streets and arrived at 
 the palace, which was brilliantly lighted. But it was 
 half past eight; the Prince was about going in to 
 dinner, the sentinel said, and couldn t receive any 
 one. 
 
 11 But he ll receive me" said the Major, robustly, 
 and handed his card. " I m Major Jackson. Send 
 it in; it ll be all right." 
 
 The card was sent in, under protest, and the Major 
 and his waif waited in a reception-room for some 
 time. At length they were sent for, and conducted 
 to a sumptuous private office and confronted with 
 the Prince, who stood there gorgeously arrayed and 
 frowning like a thunder-cloud , The Major stated 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 173 
 
 his case, and begged for a twenty-four-hour stay of 
 proceedings until the passport should be forthcom 
 ing. 
 
 " Oh, impossible!" said the Prince, in faultless 
 English. " I marvel that you should have done so 
 insane a thing as to bring the lad into the country 
 without a passport, Major, I marvel at it; why, it s 
 ten years in Siberia, and no help for it catch him ! 
 support him !" for poor Parrish was making another 
 trip to the floor. "Here quick, give him this. 
 There take another draught; brandy s the thing, 
 don t you find it so, lad? Now you feel better, poor 
 fellow. Lie down on the sofa. How stupid it was 
 of you, Major, to get him into such a horrible 
 scrape." 
 
 The Major eased the boy down with his strong 
 arms, put a cushion under his head, and whispered 
 in his ear: 
 
 14 Look as damned sick as you can ! Play it for 
 all it s worth; he s touched, you see; got a tender 
 heart under there somewhere; fetch a groan, and 
 say, * Oh, mamma, mamma ; it ll knock him out, 
 sure as guns." 
 
 Parrish was going to do these things anyway, 
 from native impulse, so they came from him 
 promptly, with great and moving sincerity, and the 
 Major whispered : " Splendid! Do it again; Bern- 
 hardt couldn t beat it." 
 
 What with the Major s eloquence and the boy s 
 
174 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 misery, the point was gained at last; the Prince 
 struck his colors, and said : 
 
 11 Have it your way; though you deserve a sharp 
 lesson and you ought to get it. I give you exactly 
 twenty-four hours. If the passport is not here 
 then, don t come near me; it s Siberia without hope 
 of pardon. " 
 
 While the Major and the lad poured out their 
 thanks, the Prince rang in a couple of soldiers, and 
 in their own language he ordered them to go with 
 these two people, and not lose sight of the younger 
 one a moment for the next twenty-four hours ; and 
 if, at the end of that term, the boy could not show a 
 passport, impound him in the dungeons of St. Peter 
 and St. Paul, and report. 
 
 The unfortunates arrived at the hotel with their 
 guards, dined under their eyes, remained in Parrish s 
 room until the Major went off to bed, after cheering 
 up the said Parrish, then one of the soldiers locked 
 himself and Parrish in, and the other one stretched 
 himself across the door outside and soon went off to 
 sleep. 
 
 So also did not Alfred Parrish. The moment he 
 was alone with the solemn soldier and the voiceless 
 silence his machine-made cheerfulness began to waste 
 away, his medicated courage began to give off its 
 supporting gases and shrink toward normal, and his 
 poor little heart to shrivel like a raisin. Within 
 thirty minutes he struck bottom; grief, misery, 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 175 
 
 fright, despair, could go no lower. Bed? Bed was 
 not for such as he; bed was not for the doomed, the 
 lost! Sleep? He was not the Hebrew children, he 
 could not sleep in the fire ! He could only walk 
 the floor. And not only could, but must. And did, 
 by the hour. And mourned, and wept, and shud 
 dered, and prayed. 
 
 Then ail-sorrowfully he made his last dispositions, 
 and prepared himself, as well as in him lay, to meet 
 his fate. As a final act, he wrote a letter : 
 
 " MY DARLING MOTHER, When these sad lines 
 shall have reached you your poor Alfred will be no 
 more. No ; worse than that, far worse ! Through 
 my own fault and foolishness I have fallen into the 
 hands of a sharper or a lunatic ; I do not know 
 which, but in either case I feel that I am lost. 
 Sometimes I think he is a sharper, but most of the 
 time I think he is only mad, for he has a kind, good 
 heart, I know, and he certainly seems to try the 
 hardest that ever a person tried to get me out of the 
 fatal difficulties he has gotten me into. 
 
 " In a few hours I shall be one of a nameless 
 horde plodding the snowy solitudes of Russia, under 
 the lash, and bound for that land of mystery and 
 misery and termless oblivion, Siberia! I shall not 
 live to see it; my heart is broken and I shall die. 
 Give my picture to her, and ask her to keep it in 
 memory of me, and to so live that in the appointed 
 time she may join me m that better world where 
 
176 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 there is no marriage nor giving in marriage, and 
 where there are no more separations, and troubles 
 never come. Give my yellow dog to Archy Hale, 
 and the other one to Henry Taylor; my blazer I 
 give to brother Will, and my fishing things and 
 Bible. 
 
 " There is no hope for me. I cannot escape; 
 the soldier stands there with his gun and never takes 
 his eyes off me, just blinks ; there is no other move 
 ment, any more than if he was dead. I cannot bribe 
 him, the maniac has my money. My letter of credit 
 is in my trunk, and may never come will never 
 come, I know. Oh, what is to become of me ! 
 Pray for me, darling mother, pray for your poor 
 Alfred. But it will do no good. O 
 
 IV. 
 
 "l|v f?4 
 
 In the morning Alfred came out looking scraggy 
 
 and worn when the Major summoned him to an 
 early breakfast. They fed their guards, they lit 
 cigars, the Major loosened his tongue and set it go 
 ing, and under its magic influence Alfred gradually 
 and gratefully became hopeful, measurably cheerful, 
 and almost happy once more. 
 
 But he would not leave the house. Siberia hung 
 over him black and threatening, / his appetite for 
 sights was all gone, he could not have borne the 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 177 
 
 shame of inspecting streets and galleries and churches 
 with a soldier at each elbow and all the world stop 
 ping and staring and commenting no, he would 
 stay within and wait for the Berlin mail and his fate. 
 So, all day long the Major stood gallantly by him 
 in his room, with one soldier standing stiff and 
 motionless against the door with his musket at his 
 shoulder, and the other one drowsing in a chair out 
 side; and all day long the faithful veteran spun 
 campaign yarns, described battles, reeled off explo 
 sive anecdotes, with unconquerable energy and 
 sparkle and resolution, and kept the scared student 
 alive and his pulses functioning. JThe long day wore 
 to a close, and the pair, followed by their guards, 
 went down to the great dining-room and took their 
 seats. 
 
 4 The suspense will be over before long, now," 
 sighed poor Alfred. 
 
 Just then a pair of Englishmen passed by, and one 
 of them said, * So we ll get no letters from Berlin 
 to-night." 
 
 Parrish s breath began to fail him. The English 
 men seated themselves at a near-by table, and the 
 other one said : 
 
 11 No, it isn t as bad as that." Parrish s breath 
 ing improved. " There is later telegraphic news. 
 The accident did detain the train formidably, but 
 that is all. It will arrive here three hours late to 
 night." 
 
178 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 Parrish did not get to the floor this time, for the 
 Major jumped for him in time. He had been listen 
 ing, and foresaw what would happen. He patted 
 Parrish on the back, hoisted him out of his chair, 
 and said, cheerfully: 
 
 " Come along, my boy, cheer up, there s abso 
 lutely nothing to worry about. I know a way out. 
 Bother the passport; let it lag a week if it wants 
 to, we can do without it." 
 
 Parrish was too sick to hear him; hope was gone, 
 Siberia present; he moved off on legs of lead, up 
 held by the Major, who walked him to the American 
 legation, heartening him on the way with assurances 
 that on his recommendation the minister wouldn t 
 hesitate a moment to grant him a new passport. \ 
 
 " I had that card up my sleeve all the time," he 
 said. The minister knows me knows me famil 
 iarly -( chummed together hours and hours under a 
 pile of other wounded at Cold Harbor ; been chum- 
 mies ever since, in spirit, though we haven t met 
 much in the body. Cheer up, laddie, everything s 
 looking splendid ! By gracious ! I feel as cocky as 
 a buck angel. Here we are, and our troubles are at 
 an end ! If we ever really had any/* 
 
 There, alongside the door, was the trade-mark of 
 the richest and freest and mightiest republic of all 
 the ages: the pine disk, with the planked eagle 
 spread upon it, his head and shoulders among the 
 stars, and his claws full of out-of-date war material; 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 179 
 
 and at that sight the tears came into Alfred s eyes, 
 the pride of country rose in his heart, Hail Columbia 
 boomed up in his breast, and all his fears and sor 
 rows vanished away; for here he was safe, safe! not 
 all the powers of the earth would venture to cross 
 that threshold to lay a hand upon him ! 
 
 For economy s sake the mightiest republic s lega 
 tions in Europe consist of a room and a half on the 
 ninth floor, when the tenth is occupied, and the lega 
 tion furniture consists of a minister or an ambassador 
 with a brakeman s salary, a secretary of legation 
 who sells matches and mends crockery for a living, 
 a hired girl for interpreter and general utility, 
 pictures of the American liners, a chromo of the 
 reigning President, a desk, three chairs, kerosene- 
 lamp, a cat, a clock, and a cuspidor with motto, 
 " In God We Trust." 
 
 The party climbed up there, followed by the 
 escort. A man sat at the desk writing official things 
 on wrapping-paper with a nail. He rose and faced 
 about; the cat climbed down and got under the 
 desk; the hired girl squeezed herself up into the 
 corner by the vodka-jug to make room ; the soldiers 
 squeezed themselves up against the wall alongside 
 of her, with muskets at shoulder arms.j Alfred was 
 radiant with happiness and the sense of rescue. 
 
 r TT t 
 
 The Major cordially shook hands with the official, 
 rattled off his case in easy and fluent style, and asked 
 for the desired passport. 
 
180 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 The official seated his guests, then said: "Well, 
 I am only the secretary of legation, you know, and 
 I wouldn t like to grant a passport while the minister 
 is on Russian soil. There is far too much responsi 
 bility." 
 
 4 All right, send for him." 
 
 The secretary smiled, and said: "That s easier 
 said than done. He s away up in the wilds, some 
 where, on his vacation." 
 
 " Ger-reat Scott!" ejaculated the Major. 
 
 Alfred groaned ; the color went out of his face, 
 and he began to slowly collapse in his clothes. The 
 secretary said, wonderingly: 
 
 " Why, what are you Great-Scotting about, 
 Major? The Prince gave you twenty-four hours. 
 Look at the clock; you re all right; you ve half an 
 hour left; the train is just due; the passport will 
 arrive in time." 
 
 " Man, there s news! The train is three hours 
 behind time! This boy s life and liberty are wast 
 ing away by minutes, and only thirty of them left ! 
 In half an hour he s the same as dead and damned 
 to all eternity ! By God, we mtist have the pass 
 port!" 
 
 " Oh, I am dying, I know it!" wailed the lad, 
 and buried his face in his arms on the desk. A 
 quick change came over the secretary, his placidity 
 vanished away, excitement flamed up in his face and 
 eyes, and he exclaimed : 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 181 
 
 " I see the whole ghastliness of the situation, but, 
 Lord help us, what can I do? What can you 
 suggest?" 
 
 44 Why, hang it, give him the passport!" 
 
 4 Impossible ! totally impossible ! You know 
 nothing about him ; three days ago you had never 
 heard of him; there s no way in the world to identify 
 him. He is lost, lost there s no possibility of sav 
 ing him ! 
 
 The boy groaned again, and sobbed out, " Lord, 
 Lord, it s the last of earth for Alfred Parrish !" 
 
 Another change came over the secretary. 
 \ In the midst of a passionate outburst of pity, vex 
 ation, and hopelessness, he stopped short, his man 
 ner calmed down, and he asked, in the indifferent 
 voice which one uses in introducing the subject of 
 the weather when there is nothing to talk about, " Is 
 that your name?" 
 
 The youth sobbed out a yes. 
 
 44 Where are you from?" 
 
 44 Bridgeport." 
 
 The secretary shook his head shook it again 
 and muttered to himself. After a moment : 
 
 4 Born there?" 
 
 44 No; New Haven." 
 
 44 Ah-h." The secretary glanced at the Major, 
 who was listening intently, with blank and unenlight 
 ened face, and indicated rather than said, 44 There is 
 vodka there, in case the soldiers are thirsty." The 
 
 12 
 
182 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 Major sprang up, poured for them, and received 
 their gratitude. The questioning went on. 
 
 " How long did you live in New Haven?" 
 1 Till I was fourteen. Came back two years ago 
 to enter Yale." 
 
 " When you lived there, what street did you live 
 on?" 
 
 "Parker Street." 
 
 l v With a vague half-light of comprehension dawning 
 in his eye, the Major glanced an inquiry at the sec 
 retary. The secretary nodded, the Major poured 
 vodka again. 
 
 41 What number?" 
 
 " It hadn t any." 
 
 The boy sat up and gave the secretary a pathetic 
 look which said, " Why do you want to torture me 
 with these foolish things, when I am miserable 
 enough without it?" 
 
 The secretary went on, unheeding: " What kind 
 of a house was it?" 
 
 " Brick two story." 
 
 " Flush with the sidewalk?" 
 
 " No, small yard in front/ 
 
 Iron fence?" 
 
 " No, palings." 
 
 The Major poured vodka again without instruc 
 tions poured brimmers this time ; and his face had 
 cleared and was alive now. 
 
 * What do you see when you enter the door?" 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 183 
 
 "A narrow hall; door at the end of it, and a 
 
 door at your right." 
 
 41 Anything else?" 
 
 " Hat-rack." 
 
 41 Room at the right?" 
 
 4 Parlor." 
 
 4 Carpet?" 
 
 4< Yes." 
 
 44 Kind of carpet?" 
 
 Old-fashioned Wilton." 
 
 "Figures?" 
 
 " Yes hawking-party, horseback." 
 
 The Major cast an eye at the clock only six 
 minutes left ! / He faced about with the jug, and as 
 he poured he glanced at the secretary, then at the 
 clock inquiringly. The secretary nodded ; the 
 Major covered the clock from view with his body a 
 moment, and set the hands back half an hour; then 
 he refreshed the men double rations.^ 
 4 Room beyond the hall and hat-rack?" 
 
 14 Dining-room." 
 
 i Stove?" 
 
 " Grate." 
 
 84 Did your people own the house?" 
 
 44 Yes." 
 
 " Do they own it yet?" 
 
 " No; sold it when we moved to Bridgeport." 
 
 The secretary paused a little, then said, 44 Did you 
 have a nickname among your playmates?" 
 
184 The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 , The color slowly rose in the youth s pale cheeks, 
 and he dropped his eyes. He seemed to struggle 
 with himself a moment or two, then he said, plain 
 tively, " They called me Miss Nancy." 
 
 The secretary mused awhile, then he dug up 
 another question: 
 
 " Any ornaments in the dining-room?* 
 
 "Well, y no." 
 
 "None? None at all?" 
 
 "No." 
 /" The mischief ! Isn t that a little odd? Think!" 
 
 The youth thought and thought; the secretary 
 waited, slightly panting. At last the imperiled waif 
 looked up sadly and shook his head.; 
 
 Think think!" cried the Major i in anxious 
 solicitude; and poured again. 
 
 1 Come ! said the secretary, not even a 
 picture?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly! but you said ornament." 
 
 " Ah ! What did your father think of it?" 
 
 The color rose again. The boy was silent. 
 
 " Speak," said the secretary. 
 
 " Speak," cried the Major, and his trembling hand 
 poured more vodka outside the glasses than inside. 
 
 "I I can t tell you what he said," murmured 
 the boy. 
 
 "Quick! quick!" said the secretary; " out with 
 it; there s no time to lose home and liberty or 
 Sibera and death depend upon the answer/" 
 
The Belated Russian Passport 
 
 11 Oh, have pity! he is a clergyman, and " 
 
 " No matter; out with it, or " 
 
 1 He said it was the hellfi redest nightmare he ever 
 struck!" 
 
 Saved ! shouted the secretary, and seized his 
 nail and a blank passport. "7 identify you; I ve 
 lived in the house, and I painted the picture my 
 self!" 
 
 " Oh, come to my arms, my poor rescued boy!" 
 cried the Major. We will always be grateful to 
 God that He made this artist ! if He did." 
 
TWO LITTLE TALES 
 
 FIRST STORY: THE MAN WITH A MESSAGE FOR THE 
 DIRECTOR-GENERAL 
 
 SOME days ago, in this second month of 1900, 
 a friend made an afternoon call upon me here 
 in London. We are of that age when men who are 
 smoking away their time in chat do not talk quite so 
 much about the pleasantnesses of life as about its 
 exasperations. By and by this friend began to 
 abuse the War Office. It appeared that he had a 
 friend who had been inventing something which 
 could be made very useful to the soldiers in South 
 Africa. It was a light and very cheap and durable 
 boot, which would remain dry in wet weather, and 
 keep its shape and firmness. The inventor wanted 
 to get the government s attention called to it, but he 
 was an unknown man and knew the great officials 
 would pay no heed to a message from him. 
 
 1 This shows that he was an ass like the rest of 
 us," I said, interrupting. " Go on." 
 
 "But why have you said that? The man spoke 
 the truth." 
 
 " The man spoke a lie. Go on." 
 
 " I vt\\\ prove that he " 
 
 (186) 
 
Two Little Tales 187 
 
 You can t prove anything of the kind. I am 
 very old and very wise. You must not argue with 
 me: it is irreverent and offensive. Goon." 
 
 Very well. But you will presently see. I am 
 not unknown, yet even / was not able to get the 
 man s message to the Director-General of the Shoe- 
 Leather Department." 
 
 This is another lie. Pray go on." 
 
 " But I assure you on my honor that I failed." 
 
 " Oh, certainly. I knew that. You didn t need 
 to tell me." 
 
 "Then where is the lie?" 
 
 "It is in your intimation that you were not able 
 to get the Director-General s immediate attention to 
 the man s message. It is a lie, because you could 
 have gotten his immediate attention to it." 
 
 "I tell you I couldn t. In three months I 
 haven t accomplished it." 
 
 " Certainly. Of course. I could know that with 
 out your telling me. You could have gotten his im 
 mediate attention if you had gone at it in a sane 
 way; and so could the other man." 
 
 " I did go at it in a sane way." 
 
 "You didn t." 
 
 " How do you know? What do you know about 
 the circumstances?" 
 
 "Nothing at all. But you didn t go at it in a 
 sane way. That much I know to a certainty." 
 
 " How can you know it, when you don t knovw 
 what method I used ? 
 
188 Two Little Tales 
 
 "I know by the result. The result is perfect 
 proof. You went at it in an insane way. I am 
 very old and very w " 
 
 41 Oh, yes, I know. But will you let me tell you 
 how I proceeded? I think that will settle whether 
 it was insanity or not." 
 
 " No; that has already been settled. But go on, 
 since you so desire to expose yourself. I am 
 very o " 
 
 " Certainly, certainly. I sat down and wrote a 
 courteous letter to the Director-General of the Shoe- 
 Leather Department, explai 
 
 44 Do you know him personally? " 
 
 44 No." 
 
 4 You have scored one for my side. You began 
 insanely. Go on." 
 
 44 In the letter I made the great value and inex- 
 pensiveness of the invention clear, and offered to 
 
 44 Call and see him? Of course you did. Score 
 two against yourself. I am v " 
 
 44 He didn t answer for three days." 
 
 4 Necessarily. Proceed." 
 
 44 Sent me three gruff lines thanking rne for my 
 trouble, and proposing " 
 
 4 Nothing." 
 
 4 That s it proposing nothing. Then I wrote 
 him more elaborately and " 
 
 44 Score three" 
 
 44 and got no answer. At the end of a week I 
 wrote and asked, with some touch of asperity, for 
 an answer to that letter." 
 
Two Little Tales 189 
 
 " Four. Go on." 
 
 1 An answer came back saying the letter had not 
 been received, and asking for a copy. I traced the 
 letter through the post-office, and found that it had 
 been received ; but I sent a copy and said nothing. 
 Two weeks passed without further notice of me. In 
 the mean time I gradually got myself cooled down to 
 a polite-letter temperature. Then I wrote and pro 
 posed an interview for next day, and said that if I 
 did not hear from him in the mean time I should take 
 his silence for assent." 
 
 11 Score five." 
 
 " I arrived at twelve sharp, and was given a chair 
 in the anteroom and told to wait. I waited until 
 half-past one ; then I left, ashamed and angry. I 
 waited another week, to cool down; then I wrote 
 and made another appointment with him for next 
 day noon." 
 
 " Score six." 
 
 " He answered, assenting. I arrived promptly, 
 and kept a chair warm until half-past two. I left 
 then, and shook the dust of that place from my 
 shoes for good and all. For rudeness, inefficiency, 
 incapacity, indifference to the army s interests, the 
 Director-General of the Shoe-Leather Department 
 of the War Office is, in my o " 
 
 " Peace ! I am very old and very wise, and have 
 seen many seemingly intelligent people who hadn t 
 common sense enough to go at a simple and easy 
 thing like this in a common-sense way. You are 
 
190 Two Little Tales 
 
 not a curiosity to me; I have personally known 
 millions and billions like you. You have lost three 
 months quite unnecessarily; the inventor has lost 
 three months ; the soldiers have lost three nine 
 months altogether. I will now read you a little 
 tale which I wrote last night. Then you will call on 
 the Director-General at noon to-morrow and transact 
 your business." 
 
 ** Splendid ! Do you know him? " 
 
 44 No; but listen to the tale." 
 
 SECOND STORY : HOW THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP GOT THE 
 EAR OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 I 
 
 Summer was come, and all the strong were bowed 
 by the burden of the awful heat, and many of the 
 weak were prostrate and dying. For weeks the 
 army had been wasting away with a plague of 
 dysentery, that scourge of the soldier, and there 
 was but little help. The doctors were in despair; 
 such efficacy as their drugs and their science had 
 once had and it was not much at its best was a 
 thing of the past, and promised to remain so. 
 
 The Emperor commanded the physicians of great 
 est renown to appear before him for a consultation, 
 for he was profoundly disturbed. He was very 
 severe with them, and called them to account for 
 letting his soldiers die : and asked them if they knew 
 their trade, or didn t; and were they properly heal 
 ers, or merely assassins? Then the principal assassin, 
 
Two Little Tales 191 
 
 who was also the oldest doctor in the land and the 
 most venerable in appearance, answered and said : 
 
 "We have done what we could, your Majesty, 
 and for a good reason it has been little. No medi 
 cine and no physician can cure that disease; only 
 nature and a good constitution can do it. I am old, 
 and I know. No doctor and no medicine can cure 
 it I repeat it and I emphasize it. Sometimes they 
 seem to help nature a little, a very little, but as 
 a rule, they merely do damage." 
 
 The Emperor was a profane and passionate man, 
 and he deluged the doctors with rugged and un 
 familiar names, and drove them from his presence. 
 
 Within a day he was attacked by that fell disease 
 himself. The news flew from mouth to mouth, 
 and carried consternation with it over all the land. 
 
 All the talk was about this awful disaster, and 
 there was general depression, for few had hope. 
 The Emperor himself was very melancholy, and 
 sighed and said : 
 
 The will of God be done. Send for the assas 
 sins again, and let us get over with it." 
 
 They came, and felt his pulse and looked at his 
 tongue, and fetched the drug store and emptied it 
 into him, and sat down patiently to wait for they 
 were not paid by the job, but by the year. 
 
 II 
 
 Tommy was sixteen and a bright lad, but he was 
 not in society. His rank was too humble for that, 
 
192 Two Little Tales 
 
 and his employment too base. In fact, it was the 
 lowest of all employments, for he was second in 
 command to his father, who emptied cesspools and 
 drove a night-cart. Tommy s closest friend was 
 Jimmy the chimney-sweep, a slim little fellow of 
 fourteen, who was honest and industrious, and had a 
 good heart, and supported a bedridden mother by 
 his dangerous and unpleasant trade. 
 
 About a month after the Emperor fell ill, these 
 two lads met one evening about nine. Tommy was 
 on his way to his night-work, and of course was not 
 in his Sundays, but in his dreadful work-clothes, and 
 not smelling very well. Jimmy was on his way 
 home from his day s labor, and was blacker than 
 any other object imaginable, and he had his brushes 
 on his shoulder and his soot-bag at his waist, and no 
 feature of his sable face was distinguishable except 
 his lively eyes. 
 
 They sat down on the curbstone to talk ; and of 
 course it was upon the one subject the nation s 
 calamity, the Emperor s disorder. Jimmy was full of 
 a great project, and burning to unfold it. He said : 
 Tommy, I can cure his Majesty. I know how 
 to do it." 
 
 Tommy was surprised. 
 
 "What! You?" 
 
 "Yes, I." 
 
 " Why, you little fool, the best doctors can t." 
 
 "I don t care: I can do it. I can cure him in 
 fifteen minutes." 
 
Two Little Tales 193 
 
 " Oh, come off! What are you giving me? * 
 
 "The facts that s all." 
 
 Jimmy s manner was so serious that it sobered 
 Tommy, who said : 
 
 " I believe you are in earnest, Jimmy. Are you 
 in earnest? " 
 
 11 1 give you my word." 
 
 " What is the plan? How ll you cure him? " 
 Tell him to eat a slice of ripe watermelon." 
 
 It caught Tommy rather suddenly, and he was 
 shouting v/ith laughter at the absurdity of the idea 
 before he could put on a stopper. But he sobered 
 down when he saw that Jimmy was wounded. He 
 patted Jimmy s knee affectionately, not minding the 
 soot, and said : 
 
 "I take the laugh all back. I didn t mean any 
 harm, Jimmy, and I won t do it again. You see, it 
 seemed so funny, because wherever there s a soldier- 
 camp and dysentery, the doctors always put up a 
 sign saying anybody caught bringing watermelons 
 there will be flogged with the cat till he can t stand." 
 
 " I know it the idiots ! " said Jimmy, with both 
 tears and anger in his voice. There s plenty of 
 watermelons, and not one of all those soldiers ought 
 to have died." 
 
 1 But, Jimmy, what put the notion into your head ? 
 
 "It isn t a notion; it s a fact. Do you know 
 that old gray-headed Zulu? Well, this long time 
 back he has been curing a lot of our friends, and 
 
 my mother has seen him do it, and so have I. It 
 13 
 
194 Two Little Tales 
 
 takes only one or two slices of melon, and it don t 
 make any difference whether the disease is new or 
 old; it cures it." 
 
 ;< It s very odd. But, Jimmy, if it is so, the 
 Emperor ought to be told of it." 
 
 "Of course; and my mother has told people, 
 hoping they could get the word to him ; but they 
 are poor working-folks and ignorant, and don t 
 know how to manage it." 
 
 "Of course they don t, the blunderheads," said 
 Tommy, scornfully. " / // get it to him ! " 
 
 "You? You night-cart polecat!" And it was 
 Jimmy s turn to laugh. But Tommy retorted 
 sturdily : 
 
 " Oh, laugh if you like; but I ll do it! " 
 
 It had such an assured and confident sound that it 
 made an impression, and Jimmy asked gravely: 
 
 " Do you know the Emperor? " 
 
 "Do / know him? Why, how you talk! Of 
 course I don t." 
 
 "Then how ll you do it?" 
 
 "It s very simple and very easy. Guess. How 
 would you do it, Jimmy? " 
 
 " Send him a letter. I never thought of it till 
 this minute. But I ll bet that s your way." 
 
 "I ll bet it ain t. Tell me, how would you 
 send it?" 
 
 " Why, through the mail, of course." 
 
 Tommy overwhelmed him with scoffings, and said : 
 
 " Now, don t you suppose every crank in the 
 
Two Little Tales 195 
 
 empire is doing the same thing? Do you mean to 
 say you haven t thought of that? " 
 
 Well no," said Jimmy, abashed. 
 * You might have thought of it, if you weren t so 
 young and inexperienced. Why, Jimmy, when even 
 a common general, or a poet, or an actor, or any 
 body that s a little famous gets sick, all the cranks 
 in the kingdom load up the mails with certain-sure 
 quack cures for him. And so, what s bound to 
 happen when it s the Emperor? " 
 
 I suppose it s worse," said Jimmy, sheepishly. 
 Well, I should think so! Look here, Jimmy: 
 every single night we cart off as many as six loads 
 of that kind of letters from the back yard of the 
 palace, where they re thrown. Eighty thousand 
 letters in one night ! Do you reckon anybody 
 reads them? Sho ! not a single one. It s what 
 would happen to your letter if you wrote it which 
 you won t, I reckon? " 
 
 " No," sighed Jimmy, crushed. 
 
 "But it s all right, Jimmy. Don t you fret: 
 there s more than one way to skin a cat. / // get 
 the word to him." 
 
 11 Oh, if you only could, Tommy, I should love 
 you forever ! 
 
 " I ll do it, I tell you. Don t you worry; you 
 depend on me." 
 
 14 Indeed I will, Tommy, for you do know so 
 much. You re not like other boys: they never 
 know anything. How il you manage, Tommy? " 
 
196 Two Little Tales 
 
 Tommy was greatly pleased. He settled himself 
 for reposeful talk, and said : 
 
 " Do you know that ragged poor thing that thinks 
 he s a butcher because he goes around with a basket 
 and sells cat s meat and rotten livers? Well, to 
 begin with, I ll tell him." 
 
 Jimmy was deeply disappointed and chagrined, 
 and said : 
 
 "Now, Tommy, it s a shame to talk so. You 
 know my heart s in it, and it s not right." 
 
 Tommy gave him a love-pat, and said : 
 
 "Don t you be troubled, Jimmy. / know what 
 I m about. Pretty soon you ll see. That half- 
 breed butcher will tell the old woman that sells 
 chestnuts at the corner of the lane she s his closest 
 friend, and I ll ask him to; then, by request, she ll 
 tell her rich aunt that keeps the little fruit-shop on 
 the corner two blocks above ; and that one will tell 
 her particular friend, the man that keeps the game- 
 shop ; and he will tell his friend the sergeant of 
 police; and the sergeant will tell his captain, and the 
 captain will tell the magistrate, and the magistrate 
 will tell his brother-in-law the county judge, and 
 the county judge will tell the sheriff, and the sheriff 
 will tell the Lord Mayor, and the Lord Mayor will 
 tell the President of the Council, and the President 
 of the Council will tell the 
 
 "By George, but it s a wonderful scheme, 
 Tommy ! How ever did you 
 
 41 Rear- Admiral, and the Rear will tell the Vice, 
 
Two Little Tales 197 
 
 and the Vice will tell the Admiral of the Blue, and 
 the Blue will tell the Red, and the Red will tell the 
 White, and the White will tell the First Lord of the 
 Admiralty, and the First Lord will tell the Speaker 
 of the House, and the Speaker 
 
 " Go it, Tommy; you re most there! " 
 14 will tell the Master of the Hounds, and the 
 Master will tell the Head Groom of the Stables, and 
 the Head Groom will tell the Chief Equerry, and 
 the Chief Equerry will tell the First Lord in Waiting, 
 and the First Lord will tell the Lord High Chamber 
 lain, and the Lord High Chamberlain will tell the 
 Master of the Household, and the Master of the 
 Household will tell the little pet page that fans the 
 flies off the Emperor, and the page will get down on 
 his knees and whisper it to his Majesty and the 
 game s made ! " 
 
 11 I ve got to get up and hurrah a couple of times, 
 Tommy. It s the grandest idea that ever was. 
 What ever put it into your head ? 
 
 " Sit down and listen, and I ll give you some 
 wisdom and don t you ever forget it as long as 
 you live. Now, then, who is the closest friend 
 you ve got, and the one you couldn t and wouldn t 
 ever refuse anything in the world to ? " 
 
 "Why, it s you, Tommy. You know that." 
 
 14 Suppose you wanted to ask a pretty large favor 
 
 of the cat s-meat man. Well, you don t know him, 
 
 and he would tell you to go to thunder, for he is that 
 
 kind of a person ; but he is my next best friend after 
 
 13 
 
198 Two Little Tales 
 
 you, and would run his legs off to do me a kindness 
 any kindness, he don t care what it is. Now, I ll 
 ask you: which is the most common-sens ible for 
 you to go and ask him to tell the chestnut-woman 
 about your watermelon cure, or for you to get me 
 to do it for you? " 
 
 To get you to do it for me, of course. I 
 wouldn t ever have thought of that, Tommy; it s 
 splendid ! " 
 
 " It s a philosophy , you see. Mighty good word 
 and large. It goes on this idea: everybody in the 
 world, little and big, has one special friend, a friend 
 that he s glad to do favors to not sour about it, 
 but glad glad clear to the marrow. And so, I 
 don t care where you start, you can get at anybody s 
 ear that you want to I don t care how low you are, 
 nor how high he is. And it s so simple: you ve 
 only to find the first friend, that is all; that ends 
 your part of the work. He finds the next friend 
 himself, and that one finds the third, and so on, 
 friend after friend, link after link, like a chain; and 
 you can go up it or down it, as high as you like or 
 as low as you like." 
 
 " It s just beautiful, Tommy." 
 
 " It s as simple and easy as a-b-c; but did you 
 ever hear of anybody trying it? No; everybody is 
 a fool. He goes to a stranger without any intro 
 duction, or writes him a letter, and of course he 
 strikes a cold wave and serves him gorgeously 
 right. Now, the Emperor don t know me, but 
 
JIMMY SAVES THE EMPEROR 
 
Two Little Tales 199 
 
 that s no matter he ll eat his watermelon to-mor 
 row. You ll see. Hi-hi stop! It s the cat s- 
 meat man. Good-by, Jimmy; I ll overtake him." 
 
 He did overtake him, and said: 
 
 " Say, will you do me a favor? " 
 
 " Will I? Well, I should say ! I m your man. 
 Name it, and see me fly ! " 
 
 " Go tell the chestnut-woman to put down every 
 thing and carry this message to her first-best friend, 
 and tell the friend to pass it along." He worded the 
 message, and said, " Now, then, rush! " 
 
 The next moment the chimney-sweep s word to 
 the Emperor was on its way. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The next evening, toward midnight, the doctors 
 sat whispering together in the imperial sick-room, 
 and they were in deep trouble, for the Emperor was 
 in very bad case. They could not hide it from them 
 selves that every time they emptied a fresh drug 
 store into him he got worse. It saddened them, for 
 they were expecting that result. The poor emaci 
 ated Emperor lay motionless, with his eyes closed, 
 and the page that was his darling was fanning the 
 flies away and crying softly. Presently the boy heard 
 the silken rustle of a portiere, and turned and saw the 
 Lord High Great Master of the Household peering in 
 at the door and excitedly motioning to him to come. 
 Lightly and swiftly the page tiptoed his way to his 
 dear and worshiped friend the Master, who said: 
 
200 Two Little Tales 
 
 "Only you can persuade him, my child, and oh, 
 don t fail to do it! Take this, make him eat it, and 
 he is saved." 
 
 " On my head be it. He shall eat it ! " 
 
 It was a couple of great slices of ruddy, fresh 
 watermelon. 
 
 The next morning the news flew everywhere that 
 the Emperor was sound and well again, and had 
 hanged the doctors. A wave of joy swept the land, 
 and frantic preparations were made to illuminate. 
 
 After breakfast his Majesty sat meditating. His 
 gratitude was unspeakable, and he was trying to de 
 vise a reward rich enough to properly testify it to his 
 benefactor. He got it arranged in his mind, and 
 called the page, and asked him if he had invented 
 that cure. The boy said no he got it from the 
 Master of the Household. 
 
 He was sent away, and the Emperor went to de 
 vising again. The Master was an earl; he would 
 make him a duke, and give him a vast estate which 
 belonged to a member of the Opposition. He had 
 him called, and asked him if he was the inventor of 
 the remedy. But the Master was an honest man, 
 and said he got it of the Grand Chamberlain. He 
 was sent away, and the Emperor thought some 
 more. The Chamberlain was a viscount ; he would 
 make him an earl, and give him a large income. 
 But the Chamberlain referred him to the First Lord 
 in Waiting, and there was some more thinking; his 
 Majesty thought out a smaller reward. But the 
 
Two Little Tales 201 
 
 First Lord in Waiting referred him back further, and 
 he had to sit down and think out a further and 
 becomingly and suitably smaller reward. 
 
 Then, to break the tediousness of the inquiry and 
 hurry the business, he sent for the Grand High 
 Chief Detective, and commanded him to trace the 
 cure to the bottom, so that he could properly reward 
 his benefactor. 
 
 At nine in the evening the High Chief Detective 
 brought the word. He had traced the cure down 
 to a lad named Jimmy, a chimney-sweep. The 
 Emperor said, with deep feeling: 
 
 "Brave boy, he saved my life, and shall not re 
 gret it ! " 
 
 And sent him a pair of his own boots; and the 
 next best ones he had, too. They were too large 
 for Jimmy, but they fitted the Zulu, so it was all 
 right, and everything as it should be. 
 
 CONCLUSION TO THE FIRST STORY 
 1 There do you get the idea ? 
 
 11 I am obliged to admit that I do. And it will be 
 as you have said. I will transact the business to 
 morrow. I intimately know the Director-General s 
 nearest friend. He will give me a note of introduc 
 tion, with a word to say my matter is of real im 
 portance to the government. I will take it along, 
 without an appointment, and send it in, with my card, 
 and I shan t have to wait so much as half a minute." 
 
 That turned out true to the letter, and the govern 
 ment adopted the boots. 
 
ABOUT PLAY-ACTING 
 
 I HAVE a project to suggest. But first I will write 
 a chapter of introduction. 
 
 I have just been witnessing a remarkable play, here 
 at the Burg Theatre in Vienna. I do not know of 
 any play that much resembles it. In fact, it is such 
 a departure from the common laws of the drama 
 that the name "play" doesn t seem to fit it quite 
 snugly. However, whatever else it may be, it is in 
 any case a great and stately metaphysical poem, 
 and deeply fascinating. "Deeply fascinating" is 
 the right term, for the audience sat four hours and 
 five minutes without thrice breaking into applause, 
 except at the close of each act ; sat rapt and silent 
 fascinated. This piece is "The Master of Pal 
 myra." It is twenty years old; yet I doubt if you 
 have ever heard of it. It is by Wilbrandt, and is 
 his masterpiece and the work which is to make his 
 name permanent in German literature. It has never 
 been played anywhere except in Berlin and in the 
 great Burg Theatre in Vienna. Yet whenever it is 
 put on the stage it packs the house, and the free list 
 
 (302) 
 
About Play- Acting 203 
 
 is suspended. I know people who have seen it ten 
 times ; they know the most of it by heart ; they do 
 not tire of it ; and they say they shall still be quite 
 willing to go and sit under its spell whenever they 
 get the opportunity. 
 
 There is a dash of metempsychosis in it and it 
 is the strength of the piece. The play gave me the 
 sense of the passage of a dimly connected procession 
 of dream-pictures. The scene of it is Palmyra in 
 Roman times. It covers a wide stretch of time I 
 don t know how many years and in the course of 
 it the chief actress is reincarnated several times : 
 four times she is a more or less young woman, 
 and once she is a lad. In the first act she is Zoe 
 a Christian girl who has wandered across the desert 
 from Damascus to try to Christianize the Zeus-wor 
 shiping pagans of Palmyra. In this character she 
 is wholly spiritual, a religious enthusiast, a devotee 
 who covets martyrdom and gets it. 
 
 After many years she appears in the second act as 
 Pkcebe, a graceful and beautiful young light-o -love 
 from Rome, whose soul is all for the shows and 
 luxuries and delights of this life a dainty and 
 capricious featherhead, a creature of shower and 
 sunshine, a spoiled child, but a charming one. 
 
 In the third act, after an interval of many years, 
 she reappears as Persida, mother of a daughter in 
 the fresh bloom of youth. She is now a sort of 
 combination of her two earlier selves: in religious 
 loyalty and subjection she is Zoe ; in triviality of 
 
204 About Play-Acting 
 
 character and shallowness of judgment together 
 with a touch of vanity in dress she is Phoebe, 
 
 After a lapse of years she appears in the fourth 
 act as NympJias, a beautiful boy, in whose character 
 the previous incarnations are engagingly mixed. 
 
 And after another stretch of years all these heredi 
 ties are joined in the Zenobia of the fifth act a 
 person of gravity, dignity, sweetness, with a heart 
 filled with compassion for all who suffer, and a hand 
 prompt to put into practical form the heart s benig 
 nant impulses. 
 
 You will easily concede that the actress who pro 
 poses to discriminate nicely these five characters, 
 and play them to the satisfaction of a cultivated and 
 exacting audience, has her work cut out for her. 
 Mme. Hohenfels has made these parts her peculiar 
 property ; and she is well able to meet all the require 
 ments. You perceive, now, where the chief part of 
 the absorbing fascination of this piece lies ; it is in 
 watching this extraordinary artist melt these five 
 characters into each other grow, shade by shade, 
 out of one and into another through a stretch of 
 four hours and five minutes. 
 
 There are a number of curious and interesting 
 features in this piece. For instance, its hero, 
 Apelles, young, handsome, vigorous, in the first 
 act, remains so all through the long flight of years 
 covered by the five acts. Other men, young in the 
 first act, are touched with gray in the second, are 
 old and racked with infirmities in the third ; in the 
 
About Play-Acting 205 
 
 fourth, all but one are gone to their long home, and 
 he is a blind and helpless hulk of ninety or a hundred 
 years. It indicates that the stretch of time covered 
 by the piece is seventy years or more. The scenery 
 undergoes decay, too the decay of age, assisted 
 and perfected by a conflagration. The fine new 
 temples and palaces of the second act are by and by 
 a wreck of crumbled walls and prostrate columns, 
 mouldy, grass-grown, and desolate; but their former 
 selves are still recognizable in their ruins. The aging 
 men and the aging scenery together convey a pro 
 found illusion of that long lapse of time : they make 
 you live it yourself ! You leave the theatre with the 
 weight of a century upon you. 
 
 Another strong effect: Death, in person, walks 
 about the stage in every act. So far as I could 
 make out, he was supposedly not visible to any ex 
 cepting two persons the one he came for and 
 Apelles. He used various costumes: but there 
 was always more black about them than any other 
 tint; and so they were always sombre. Also they 
 were always deeply impressive, and indeed awe- 
 inspiring. The face was not subjected to changes, 
 but remained the same, first and last a ghastly 
 white. To me he was always welcome, he seemed 
 so real the actual Death, not a play-acting artifi 
 ciality. He was of a solemn and stately carriage; 
 he had a deep voice, and used it with a noble 
 dignity. Wherever there was a turmoil of merry 
 making or fighting or feasting or chaffing or quarrel- 
 
206 About Play-Acting 
 
 ing, or a gilded pageant, or other manifestation of our 
 trivial and fleeting life, into it drifted that black figure 
 with the corpse-face, and looked its fateful look and 
 passed on; leaving its victim shuddering and smitten. 
 And always its coming made the fussy human pack 
 seem infinitely pitiful and shabby and hardly worth 
 the attention of either saving or damning. 
 
 In the beginning of the first act the young girl Zoe 
 appears by some great rocks in the desert, and sits 
 down, exhausted, to rest. Presently arrive a pauper 
 couple, stricken with age and infirmities; and they 
 begin to mumble and pray to the Spirit of Life, who 
 is said to inhabit that spot. The Spirit of Life 
 appears; also Death uninvited. They are (sup- 
 posably) invisible. Death, tall, black-robed, corpse- 
 faced, stands motionless and waits. The aged 
 couple pray to the Spirit of Life for a means to 
 prop up their existence and continue it. Their 
 prayer fails. The Spirit of Life prophesies Zoe s 
 martyrdom : it will take place before night. Soon 
 Apelles arrives, young and vigorous and full of 
 enthusiasm ; he has led a host against the Persians 
 and won the battle; he is the pet of fortune, 
 rich, honored, beloved, " Master of Palmyra." He 
 has heard that whoever stretches himself out on one of 
 those rocks there, and asks for a deathless life, can 
 have his wish. He laughs at the tradition, but wants 
 to make the trial anyway. The invisible Spirit of Life 
 warns him : 4 Life without end can be regret with 
 out end," But he persists: let him keep his youth, 
 
About Play-Acting 207 
 
 his strength, and his mental faculties unimpaired, 
 and he will take all the risks. He has his desire. 
 
 From this time forth, act after act, the troubles 
 and sorrows and misfortunes and humiliations of life 
 beat upon him without pity or respite ; but he will 
 not give up, he will not confess his mistake. When 
 ever he meets Death he still furiously defies him 
 but Death patiently waits. He, the healer of sor 
 rows, is man s best friend: the recognition of this 
 will come. As the years drag on, and on, and on, 
 the friends of the Master s youth grow old ; and one 
 by one they totter to the grave : he goes on with his 
 proud fight, and will not yield. At length he is 
 wholly alone in the world ; all his friends are dead ; 
 last of all, his darling of darlings, his son, the lad 
 Nymphas, who dies in his arms. His pride is broken 
 now; and he would welcome Death, if Death would 
 come, if Death would hear his prayers and give him 
 peace. The closing act is fine and pathetic. 
 Apelles meets Zenobia, the helper of all who 
 suffer, and tells her his story, which moves her pity. 
 By common report she is endowed with more than 
 earthly powers; and, since he cannot have the boon 
 of death, he appeals to her to drown his memory in 
 forgetfulness of his griefs forgetfulness, "which 
 is death s equivalent. She says (roughly trans 
 lated) , in an exaltation of compassion : 
 
 "Come to me! 
 
 Kneel; and may the power be granted me 
 To cool the fires of this poor tortured brain, 
 And bring it peace and healing." 
 
208 About Play-Acting 
 
 He kneels. From her hand, which she lays upon 
 his head, a mysterious influence steals through him; 
 and he sinks into a dreamy tranquillity. 
 
 "Oh, if I could but so drift 
 
 Through this soft twilight into the night of peace, 
 Never to wake again ! 
 (Raising his hand, as if in benediction.} 
 O mother earth, farewell ! 
 Gracious thou wert to me. Farewell! 
 Apelles goes to rest." 
 
 Death appears behind him and encloses the up 
 lifted hand in his. Apelles shudders, wearily and 
 slowly turns, and recognizes his life-long adversary. 
 He smiles and puts all his gratitude into one simple 
 and touching sentence, "Ich danke dir," and dies. 
 
 Nothing, I think, could be more moving, more 
 beautiful, than this close. This piece is just one 
 long, soulful, sardonic laugh at human life. Its title 
 might properly be "Is Life a Failure? " and leave 
 the five acts to play with the answer. I am not at 
 all sure that the author meant to laugh at life. I 
 only notice that he has done it. Without putting 
 into words any ungracious or discourteous things 
 about life, the episodes in the piece seem to be say 
 ing all the time, inarticulately: " Note what a silly, 
 poor thing human life is ; how childish its ambitions, 
 how ridiculous its pomps, how trivial its dignities, 
 how cheap its heroisms, how capricious its course, 
 how brief its flight, how stingy in happiness, how 
 opulent in miseries, how few its prides, how multi 
 tudinous its humiliations, how comic its tragedies, 
 
About Play-Acting 209 
 
 how tragic its comedies, how wearisome and monot 
 onous its repetition of its stupid history through the 
 ages, with never the introduction of a new detail, how 
 hard it has tried, from the Creation down, to play 
 itself upon its possessor as a boon, and has never 
 proved its case in a single instance ! " 
 
 Take note of some of the details of the piece. 
 Each of the five acts contains an independent tragedy 
 of its own. In each act somebody s edifice of hope, 
 or of ambition, or of happiness, goes down in ruins. 
 Even Apelles perennial youth is only a long 
 tragedy, and his life a failure. There are two mar 
 tyrdoms in the piece ; and they are curiously and 
 sarcastically contrasted. In the first act the pagans 
 persecute Zo e\ the Christian girl, and a pagan mob 
 slaughters her. In the fourth act those same 
 pagans now very old and zealous are become 
 Christians, and they persecute the pagans: a mob 
 of them slaughters the pagan youth, Nymphas, 
 who is standing up for the old gods of his 
 fathers. No remark is made about this picturesque 
 failure of civilization ; but there it stands, as an un- 
 worded suggestion that civilization, even when 
 Christianized, was not able wholly to subdue the 
 natural man in that old day just as in our day, the 
 spectacle of a shipwrecked French crew clubbing 
 women and children who tried to climb into the life 
 boats suggests that civilization has not succeeded in 
 entirely obliterating the natural man even yet. 
 Common sailors ! A year ago, in Paris, at a fire, 
 
210 About Play-Acting 
 
 the aristocracy of the same nation clubbed girls and 
 women out of the way to save themselves. Civiliza 
 tion tested at top and bottom both, you see. And 
 in still another panic of fright we have this same 
 "tough" civilization saving its honor by condemn 
 ing an innocent man to multiform death, and hug 
 ging and whitewashing the guilty one. 
 
 i*n the second act a grand Roman official is not 
 above trying to blast Apclles* reputation by falsely 
 charging him with misappropriating public moneys. 
 Apelles, who is too proud to endure even the sus 
 picion of irregularity, strips himself to naked pov 
 erty to square the unfair account; and his troubles 
 begin: the blight which is to continue and spread 
 strikes his life; for the frivolous, pretty creature 
 whom he has brought from Rome has no taste for 
 poverty, and agrees to elope with a more competent 
 candidate. Her presence in the house has previ 
 ously brought down the pride and broken the heart 
 of Apelles poor old mother; and her life is a 
 failure. Death comes for her, but is willing to trade 
 her for the Roman girl; so the bargain is struck 
 with Apelles, and the mother spared for the present. 
 
 No one s life escapes the blight. Timoleus, the 
 gay satirist of the first two acts, who scoffed at the 
 pious hypocrisies and money-grubbing ways of the 
 great Roman lords, is grown old and fat and blear- 
 eyed and racked with disease in the third, has lost 
 his stately purities, and watered the acid of his wit. 
 His life has suffered defeat. Unthinkingly he swears 
 
About Play- Acting 211 
 
 by Zeus from ancient habit and then quakes 
 with fright; for a fellow-communicant is passing by. 
 Reproached by a pagan friend of his youth for his 
 apostasy, he confesses that principle, when unsup 
 ported by an assenting stomach, has to climb dowr . 
 One must have bread; and " the bread is Christian 
 now." Then the poor old wreck, once so proud of 
 iron rectitude, hobbles away, coughing and barhing. 
 
 In the same act Ape lies gives his sweet young 
 Christian daughter and her fine young pagan lover 
 his consent and blessing, and makes them utterly 
 happy for five minutes. Then the priest and the 
 mob come, to tear them apart and put the girl in a 
 nunnery ; for marriage between the sects is forbid 
 den. Apellcs wife could dissolve the rule; and she 
 wants to do it: but under priestly pressure she 
 wavers; then, fearing that in providing happiness for 
 her child she would be committing a sin dangerous 
 to herself, she goes over to the opposition, throwing 
 the casting vote for the nunnery. The blight has 
 fallen upon the young couple; their life is a failure. 
 
 In the fourth act, Longinus, who made such a 
 prosperous and enviable start in the first act, is left 
 alone in the desert, sick, blind, helpless, incredibly 
 old, to die: not a friend left in the world another 
 ruined life. And in that act, also, Apelles* wor 
 shiped boy, Nymphas, done to death by the mob, 
 breathes out his last sigh in his father s arms one 
 more failure. In the fifth act, Apelles himself 
 dies, and is glad to do it; he who so ignorantly 
 rejoiced, only four acts before, over the splendid 
 
212 
 
 About Play-Acting 
 
 present of an earthly immortality the very worst 
 failure of the lot ! 
 
 II 
 
 Now I approach my project. Here is the theatre 
 list for Saturday, May 7, 1898 cut from the 
 advertising columns of a New York paper : 
 
 PBOCTOR S 
 
 NTINUOOS 
 
 PASTOR S 
 
 CONTINUOUS 
 
 3ES. 
 
 
 av. Good seats. Me. 
 naiglpiajr, 
 
 SILVER SO0VKNIBS at Wed. & Sat. Matinees. 
 
 ELECTRICAL SHOW. 
 
 8 to H P. M. Admission, COc. Children, 25c. 
 MADISON SQCARB GARDEN. 
 
 ADRON. 
 
 Orch. SOc, 
 
 rTHAVB-THSATHK. Broadway and 28<h St. 
 
 to LOVE J1ND8 THE WAY 
 sod A BIT OF OLD CHELSEA. 
 
 BATTLES o^ NATION. 
 
 Mate. Wed. & Sat, 2. Bv.8.tt. 
 
 SAM T. 
 
 Jennie Y< 
 
 WEBER & REIDS |?g MAT. TO-DAY. 
 POUSSE CAFE 4S CON-CURERS. 
 
 HISS BESSIE CLAYTON, the Queen of Dancer* 
 
 MY FRIEND FROM INDIA. 
 
 NEXT WEEK-THE TARRTTOWW WIDOW. 
 
 AMERICAN 
 
 THE BE68AR STUDERT. 
 
 ENTIRE HOU8E,85, 50. 75. Mat. To day, 85 & 50. 
 NEXT WKEk-FAUST ON ENGLLSH). 
 
 EMPIRE THEATRE. 
 
 THE MAYOR. 
 
 Evenings at 8:30. Mats. To-day and Wed. et 9:tt. 
 
 OLYMPIA 
 
 Mat. To-day. 
 
 Marguerite Sylva, 
 &3u bthera 
 
 WAR BUBBLES," 
 
 KEITH S CONTINUOUS PERFORMANCE, 
 
 IVUIIIIO. 25c..60c.,NoontoIlP.KL 
 
 KNICKERBOOKGB. B WAT & 8T8U 
 
 EVENINGS AT 8:16. MAT. TO-DAY AT fcUk 
 
 THE BRIDE-EIECT 
 
 KOSTER & BIAL^S 
 
 U A R I F M OPERA HOUSE. 
 H A If L E. HI E^,. 8:15. Mat. Sat. a. 
 HENUV MXIXEK-THE MASTBB. 
 
 NextWek-THE HIGHWAYMAN. 
 
 ADELK: RITCHIE m AW BAIN. 
 
 Truly Sbattuck, Qerome Efrvarrty. ad other* 
 
 COWTINUOUS ^ d OT - 
 
 ALACE, PERFORMANCE. JDAVB. 
 I^W 3QOCKSTADEK. 
 
 Milton ao4 Dallle NobJes. Ivan Oreboff, Cushmao 
 
 WALLACK. S Egs. ftM. Mat To^ajf. fc 
 
 THE BOSTOMANS 
 THE SERENADE. 
 
 Daly f s 
 
About Play-Acting 213 
 
 Now I arrive at my project, and make my sug 
 gestion. From the look of this lightsome feast, I 
 conclude that what you need is a tonic. Send for 
 "The Master of Palmyra." You are trying to 
 make yourself believe that life is a comedy, that its 
 sole business is fun, that there is nothing serious in 
 it. You are ignoring the skeleton in your closet. 
 Send for "The Master of Palmyra." You are 
 neglecting a valuable side of your life ; presently it 
 will be atrophied. You are eating too much mental 
 sugar; you will bring on Bright s disease of the in 
 tellect. You need a tonic; you need it very much. 
 Send for " The Master of Palmyra." You will not 
 need to translate it: its story is as plain as a pro 
 cession of pictures. 
 
 I have made my suggestion. Now I wish to put 
 an annex to it. And that is this : It is right and 
 wholesome to have those light comedies and enter 
 taining shows; and I shouldn t wish to see them 
 diminished. But none of us is always in the comedy 
 spirit : we have our graver moods ; they come to us 
 all; the lightest of us cannot escape them. These 
 moods have their appetites healthy and legitimate 
 appetites and there ought to be some way of satis 
 fying them. It seems to me that New York ought 
 to have one theatre devoted to tragedy. With her 
 three millions of population, and seventy outside 
 millions to draw upon, she can afford it, she can 
 support it. America devotes more time, labor, 
 money, and attention to distributing literary and 
 14 
 
214 About Play-Acting 
 
 musical culture among the general public than does 
 any other nation, perhaps; yet here you find her 
 neglecting what is possibly the most effective of all 
 the breeders and nurses and disseminators of high 
 literary taste and lofty emotion the tragic stage. 
 To leave that powerful agency out is to haul the 
 culture-wagon with a crippled team. Nowadays, 
 when a mood comes which only Shakspeare can set 
 to music, what must we do? Read Shakspeare our 
 selves ! Isn t it pitiful? It is playing an organ solo 
 on a jew s-harp. We can t read. None but the 
 Booths can do it. 
 
 Thirty years ago Edwin Booth played " Hamlet " 
 a hundred nights in New York. With three times 
 the population, how often is " Hamlet " played now 
 in a year? If Booth were back now in his prime, 
 how often could he play it in New York? Some 
 will say twenty-five nights. I will say three hun 
 dred, and say it with confidence. The tragedians 
 are dead ; but I think that the taste and intelligence 
 which made their market are not. 
 
 What has come over us English-speaking people? 
 During the first half of this century tragedies and 
 great tragedians were as common with us as farce 
 and comedy; and it was the same in England. Now 
 we have not a tragedian, I believe; and London, 
 with her fifty shows and theatres, has but three, I 
 think. It is an astonishing thing, when you come 
 to consider it. Vienna remains upon the ancient 
 basis: there has been no change. She sticks to the 
 
About Play- Acting 215 
 
 former proportions : a number of rollicking come 
 dies, admirably played, every night; and also every 
 night at the Burg Theatre that wonder of the 
 world for grace and beauty and richness and splen 
 dor and costliness a majestic drama of depth and 
 seriousness, or a standard old tragedy. It is only 
 within the last dozen years that men have learned to 
 do miracles on the stage in the way of grand and 
 enchanting scenic effects ; and it is at such a time as 
 this that we have reduced our scenery mainly to 
 different breeds of parlors and varying aspects of 
 furniture and rugs. I think we must have a Burg in 
 New York, and Burg scenery, and a great company 
 like the Burg company. Then, with a tragedy-tonic 
 once or twice a month, we shall enjoy the comedies 
 all the better. Comedy keeps the heart sweet; but 
 we all know that there is wholesome refreshment for 
 both mind and heart in an occasional climb among 
 the pomps of the intellectual snow-summits built by 
 Shakspeare and those others. Do I seem to be 
 preaching? It is out of my line: I only do it be 
 cause the rest of the clergy seem to be on vacation. 
 
DIPLOMATIC PAY AND CLOTHES 
 
 VIENNA, January 5. I find in this morning s 
 papers the statement that the Government of 
 the United States has paid to the two members of 
 the Peace Commission entitled to receive money for 
 their services $100,000 each for their six weeks 
 work in Paris. 
 
 I hope that this is true. I will allow myself the 
 satisfaction of considering that it is true, and of 
 treating it as a thing finished and settled. 
 
 It is a precedent; and ought to be a welcome one 
 to our country. A precedent always has a chance 
 to be valuable (as well as the other way) ; and its 
 best chance to be valuable (or the other way) is 
 when it takes such a striking form as to fix a whole 
 nation s attention upon it. If it come justified out 
 of the discussion which will follow, it will find a 
 career ready and waiting for it. 
 
 We realize that the edifice of public justice is built 
 of precedents, from the ground upward ; but we do 
 not always realize that all the other details of our 
 civilization are likewise built of precedents. The 
 changes also which they undergo are due to the in- 
 
 (216) 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 217 
 
 trusion of new precedents, which hold their ground 
 against opposition, and keep their place. A pre 
 cedent may die at birth, or it may live it is mainly 
 a matter of luck. If it be imitated once, it has a 
 chance ; if twice a better chance ; if three times it is 
 reaching a point where account must be taken of it ; 
 if four, five, or six times, it has probably come to 
 stay for a whole century, possibly. If a town 
 start a new bow, or a new dance, or a new temper 
 ance project, or a new kind of hat, and can get the 
 precedent adopted in the next town, the career of 
 that precedent is begun ; and it will be unsafe to bet 
 as to where the end of its journey is going to be. It 
 may not get this start at all, and may have no career; 
 but if a crown prince introduce the precedent, it will 
 attract vast attention, and its chances for a career 
 are so great as to amount almost to a certainty. 
 
 For a long time we have been reaping damage 
 from a couple of disastrous precedents. One is 
 the precedent of shabby pay to public servants 
 standing for the power and dignity of the Republic 
 in foreign lands ; the other is a precedent condemn 
 ing them to exhibit themselves officially in clothes 
 which are not only without grace or dignity, but are 
 a pretty loud and pious rebuke to the vain and 
 frivolous costumes worn by the other officials. To 
 our day an American ambassador s official costume 
 remains under the reproach of these defects. At a 
 public function in a European court all foreign rep 
 resentatives except ours wear clothes which in some 
 
218 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 way distinguish them from the unofficial throng, and 
 mark them as standing for their countries. But our 
 representative appears in a plain black swallow-tail, 
 which stands for neither country nor people. It 
 has no nationality. It is found in all countries ; it 
 is as international as a night-shirt. It has no par 
 ticular meaning: but our Government tries to give it 
 one ; it tries to make it stand for Republican Sim 
 plicity, modesty and unpretentiousness. Tries, and 
 without doubt fails, for it is not conceivable that this 
 loud ostentation of simplicity deceives any one. 
 The statue that advertises its modesty with a fig- 
 leaf really brings its modesty under suspicion. 
 Worn officially, our nonconforming swallow-tail is a 
 declaration of ungracious independence in the mat 
 ter of manners, and is uncourteous. It says to all 
 around: "In Rome we do not choose to do as 
 Rome does; we refuse to respect your tastes and 
 your traditions; we make no sacrifices to any one s 
 customs and prejudices ; we yield no jot to the 
 courtesies of life; we prefer our manners, and in 
 trude them here." 
 
 That is not the true American spirit, and those 
 clothes misrepresent us. When a foreigner comes 
 among us and trespasses against our customs and 
 our code of manners, we are offended, and justly so : 
 but our Government commands our ambassadors to 
 wear abroad an official dress which is an offense 
 against foreign manners and customs ; and the dis 
 credit of it falls upon the nation. 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 219 
 
 We did not dress our public functionaries in un 
 distinguished raiment before Franklin s time; and 
 the change would not have come if he had been an 
 obscurity. But he was such a colossal figure in the 
 world that whatever he did of an unusual nature 
 attracted the world s attention, and became a pre 
 cedent. In the case of clothes, the next representa 
 tive after him, and the next, had to imitate it. After 
 that, the thing was custom : and custom is a petri 
 faction ; nothing but dynamite can dislodge it for a 
 century. We imagine that our queer official cos- 
 turnery was deliberately devised to symbolize our Re 
 publican Simplicity a quality which we have never 
 possessed, and are too old to acquire now, if we had 
 any use for it or any leaning toward it. But it is 
 not so; there was nothing deliberate about it: it 
 grew naturally and heedlessly out of the precedent 
 set by Franklin. 
 
 If it had been an intentional thing, and based 
 upon a principle, it would not have stopped where 
 it did : we should have applied it further. Instead 
 of clothing our admirals and generals, for courts- 
 martial and other public functions, in superb dress 
 uniforms blazing with color and gold, the Govern 
 ment would put them in swallow-tails and white 
 cravats, and make them look like ambassadors and 
 lackeys. If I am wrong in making Franklin the 
 father of our curious official clothes, it is no matter 
 he will be able to stand it. 
 
 It is my opinion and I make no charge for the 
 
220 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 suggestion that, whenever we appoint an ambas 
 sador or a minister, we ought to confer upon him the 
 temporary rank of admiral or general, and allow 
 him to wear the corresponding uniform at public 
 functions in foreign countries. I would recommend 
 this for the reason that it is not consonant with the 
 dignity of the United States of America that her 
 representative should appear upon occasions of state 
 in a dress which makes him glaringly conspicuous; 
 and that is what his present undertaker-outfit does 
 when it appears, with its dismal smudge, in the 
 midst of the butterfly splendors of a Continental 
 court. It is a most trying position for a shy man, a 
 modest man, a man accustomed to being like other 
 people. He is the most striking figure present; 
 there is no hiding from the multitudinous eyes. It 
 would be funny, if it were not such a cruel spectacle, 
 to see the hunted creature in his solemn sables 
 scuffling around in that sea of vivid color, like a 
 mislaid Presbyterian in perdition. We are all aware 
 that our representative s dress should not compel too 
 much attention; for anybody but an Indian chief 
 knows that that is a vulgarity. I am saying these 
 things in the interest of our national pride and 
 dignity. Our representative is the flag. He is the 
 Republic. He is the United States of America. 
 And when these embodiments pass by, we do not 
 want them scoffed at; we desire that people shall 
 be obliged to concede that they are worthily clothed, 
 and politely. 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 221 
 
 Our Government is oddly inconsistent in this mat 
 ter of official dress. When its representative is a 
 civilian who has not been a soldier, it restricts him 
 to the black swallow-tail and white tie ; but if he is a 
 civilian who has been a soldier, it allows him to 
 wear the uniform of his former rank as an official 
 dress. When General Sickles was minister to Spain, 
 he always wore, when on official duty, the dress 
 uniform of a major-general. When General Grant 
 visited foreign courts, he went handsomely and 
 properly ablaze in the uniform of a full general, and 
 was introduced by diplomatic survivals of his own 
 Presidential Administration. The latter, by official 
 necessity, went in the meek and lowly swallow-tail 
 a deliciously sarcastic contrast: the one dress 
 representing the honest and honorable dignity of the 
 nation ; the other, the cheap hypocrisy of the Re 
 publican Simplicity tradition. In Paris our present 
 representative can perform his official functions rep 
 utably clothed ; for he was an officer in the Civil 
 War. In London our late ambassador was similarly 
 situated; for he also was an officer in the Civil 
 War. But Mr. Choate must represent the Great 
 Republic even at official breakfast at seven in the 
 morning in that same old funny swallow-tail. 
 
 Our Government s notions about proprieties of 
 costume are indeed very, very odd as suggested 
 by that last fact. The swallow-tail is recognized the 
 world over as not wearable in the daytime ; it is a 
 night-dress, and a night-dress only a night-shirt is 
 
222 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 not more so. Yet, when our representative makes 
 an official visit in the morning, he is obliged by his 
 Government to go in that night-dress. It makes the 
 very cab-horses laugh. 
 
 The truth is, that for a while during the present 
 century, and up to something short of forty years 
 ago, we had a lucid interval, and dropped the 
 Republican Simplicity sham, and dressed our foreign 
 representatives in a handsome and becoming official 
 costume. This was discarded by and by, and the 
 swallow-tail substituted. I believe it is not now 
 known which statesman brought about this change ; 
 but we all know that, stupid as he was as to diplo 
 matic proprieties in dress, he would not have sent his 
 daughter to a state ball in a corn-shucking costume, 
 nor to a corn-shucking in a state ball costume, to be 
 harshly criticised as an ill-mannered offender against 
 the proprieties of custom in both places. And we 
 know another thing, viz. : that he himself would not 
 have wounded the tastes and feelings of a family of 
 mourners by attending a funeral in their house in a 
 costume which was an offense against the dignities 
 and decorum prescribed by tradition and sanctified 
 by custom. Yet that man was so heedless as not to 
 reflect that all the social customs of civilized peoples 
 are entitled to respectful observance, and that no 
 man with a right spirit of courtesy in him ever has 
 any disposition to transgress these customs. 
 
 There is still another argument for a rational 
 diplomatic dress a business argument. We are a 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 223 
 
 trading nation ; and our representative is our busi 
 ness agent. If he is respected, esteemed, and liked 
 where he is stationed, he can exercise an influence 
 which can extend our trade and forward our pros 
 perity. A considerable number of his business 
 activities have their field in his social relations; and 
 clothes which do not offend against local manners 
 and customs and prejudices are a valuable part of his 
 equipment in this matter would be, if Franklin had 
 died earlier. 
 
 I have not done with gratis suggestions yet. We 
 made a great and valuable advance when we insti 
 tuted the office of ambassador. That lofty rank 
 endows its possessor with several times as much in 
 fluence, consideration, and effectiveness as the rank 
 of minister bestows. For the sake of the country s 
 dignity and for the sake of her advantage commer 
 cially, we should have ambassadors, not ministers, at 
 the great courts of the world. 
 
 But not at present salaries ! No ; if we are to 
 maintain present salaries, let us make no more am 
 bassadors ; and let us unmake those we have already 
 made. The great position, without the means of re 
 spectably maintaining it there could be no wisdom 
 in that. A foreign representative, to be valuable to 
 his country, must be on good terms with the officials 
 of the capital and with the rest of the influential folk. 
 He must mingle with this society ; he cannot sit at 
 home it is not business, it butters no commercial 
 parsnips. He must attend the dinners, banquets, 
 
224 
 
 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 suppers, balls, receptions, and must return these 
 hospitalities. He should return as good as he gets, 
 too, for the sake of the dignity of his country, and 
 for the sake of Business. Have we ever had a min 
 ister or an ambassador who could do this on his 
 salary? No not once, from Franklin s time to 
 ours. Other countries understand the commercial 
 value of properly lining the pockets of their repre 
 sentatives; but apparently our Government has not 
 learned it. England is the most successful trader of 
 the several trading nations ; and she takes good care 
 of the watchmen who keep guard in her commercial 
 towers. It has been a long time, now, since we 
 needed to blush for our representatives abroad. It 
 has become custom to send our fittest. We send 
 men of distinction, cultivation, character our 
 ablest, our choicest, our best. Then we cripple 
 their efficiency through the meagreness of their pay. 
 Here is a list of salaries for English and American 
 ministers and ambassadors: 
 
 CITT. 
 
 SALARIES. 
 
 AMERICAN. 
 
 ENGLISH. 
 
 Paris 
 
 $17,500 
 
 17,5 
 12,000 
 10,000 
 
 17,50 
 
 12,000 
 
 $45,000 
 40,000 
 40,000 
 40,000 
 39,000 
 SS.ooo 
 32,5 
 
 Berlin 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 225 
 
 Sir Julian Pauncefote, the English ambassador at 
 Washington, has a very fine house besides at no 
 damage to his salary. 
 
 English ambassadors pay no house-rent; they live 
 in palaces owned by England. Our representatives 
 pay house-rent out of their salaries. You can judge 
 by the above figures what kind of houses the United 
 States of America has been used to living in abroad, 
 and what sort of return-entertaining she has done. 
 There is not a salary in our list which would properly 
 house the representative receiving it, and, in addi 
 tion, pay $3,000 toward his family s bacon and 
 doughnuts the strange but economical and custom 
 ary fare of the American ambassador s household, 
 except on Sundays, when petrified Boston crackers 
 are added. 
 
 The ambassadors and ministers of foreign nations 
 not only have generous salaries, but their Govern 
 ments provide them with money wherewith to pay a 
 considerable part of their hospitality bills. I believe 
 our Government pays no hospitality bills except those 
 incurred by the navy. Through this concession to 
 the navy, that arm is able to do us credit in foreign 
 parts; and certainly that is well and politic. But 
 why the Government does not think it well and poli 
 tic that our diplomats should be able to do us like 
 credit abroad is one of those mysterious inconsist 
 encies which have been puzzling me ever since I 
 stopped trying to understand baseball and took up 
 
 statesmanship as a pastime. 
 is 
 
226 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 To return to the matter of house-rent. Good 
 houses, properly furnished, in European capitals, are 
 not to be had at small figures. Consequently, our 
 foreign representatives have been accustomed to live 
 in garrets sometimes on the roof. Being poor 
 men, it has been the best they could do on the salary 
 which the Government has paid them. How could 
 they adequately return the hospitalities shown them? 
 It was impossible. It would have exhausted the 
 salary in three months. Still, it was their official 
 duty to entertain the influential after some sort of 
 fashion ; and they did the best they could with their 
 limited purse. In return for champagne they fur 
 nished lemonade ; in return for game they furnished 
 ham ; in return for whale they furnished sardines ; in 
 return for liquors they furnished condensed milk; 
 in return for the battalion of liveried and powdered 
 flunkeys they furnished the hired girl ; in return for 
 the fairy wilderness of sumptuous decorations they 
 draped the stove with the American flag; in return 
 for the orchestra they furnished zither and ballads 
 by the family; in return for the ball but they 
 didn t return the ball, except in cases where the 
 United States lived on the roof and had room. 
 
 Is this an exaggeration? It can hardly be called 
 that. I saw nearly the equivalent of it once, a good 
 many years ago. A minister was trying to create 
 influential friends for a project which might be worth 
 ten millions a year to the agriculturists of the Re 
 public ; and our Government had furnished him ham 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 227 
 
 and lemonade to persuade the opposition with. 
 The minister did not succeed. He might not have 
 succeeded if his salary had been what it ought to 
 have been $50,000 or $60,000 a year but his 
 chances would have been very greatly improved. 
 And in any case, he and his dinners and his country 
 would not have been joked about by the hard-hearted 
 and pitied by the compassionate. 
 
 Any experienced "drummer" will testify that, 
 when you want to do business, there is no economy 
 in ham and lemonade. The drummer takes his 
 country customer to the theatre, the opera, the 
 circus; dines him, wines him, entertains him all the 
 day and all the night in luxurious style ; and plays 
 upon his human nature in all seductive ways. For he 
 knows, by old experience, that this is the best way 
 to get a profitable order out of him. He has his 
 reward. All Governments except our own play the 
 same policy, with the same end in view; and they 
 also have their reward. But ours refuses to do 
 business by business ways, and sticks to ham and 
 lemonade. This is the most expensive diet known 
 to the diplomatic service of the world. 
 
 Ours is the only country of first importance that 
 pays its foreign representatives trifling salaries. If 
 we were poor, we could not find great fault with 
 these economies, perhaps at least one could find a 
 sort of plausible excuse for them. But we are not 
 poor; and the excuse fails. As shown above, some 
 of our important diplomatic representatives receive 
 
228 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 $12,000; others $17,500. These salaries are all ham 
 and lemonade, and unworthy of the flag. When we 
 have a rich ambassador in London or Paris, he lives 
 as the ambassador of a country like ours ought to 
 live, and it costs him $100,000 a year to do it. But 
 why should we allow him to pay that out of his 
 private pocket? There is nothing fair about it; and 
 the Republic is no proper subject for any one s 
 charity. In several cases our salaries of $12,000 
 should be $50,000; and all of the salaries of $17,- 
 500 ought to be $75,000 or $100,000, since we pay 
 no representative s house-rent. Our State Depart 
 ment realizes the mistake which we are making, and 
 would like to rectify it, but it has not the power. 
 
 When a young girl reaches eighteen she is recog 
 nized as being a woman. She adds six inches to her 
 skirt, she unplaits her dangling braids and balls her 
 hair on top of her head, she stops sleeping with her 
 little sister and has a room to herself, and becomes 
 in many ways a thundering expense. But she is in 
 society now; and papa has to stand it. There is no 
 avoiding it. Very well. The Great Republic length 
 ened her skirts last year, balled up her hair, and 
 entered the world s society. This means that, if 
 she would prosper and stand fair with society, she 
 must put aside some of her dearest and darlingest 
 young ways and superstitions, and do as society 
 does. Of course, she can decline if she wants to ; 
 but this would be unwise. She ought to realize, 
 now that she has "come out," that this is a right 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 229 
 
 and proper time to change a part of her style. She 
 is in Rome ; and it has long been granted that when 
 one is in Rome it is good policy to do as Rome 
 does. To advantage Rome? No to advantage 
 herself. 
 
 If our Government has really paid representatives 
 of ours on the Paris Commission $100,000 apiece 
 for six weeks work, I feel sure that it is the best 
 cash investment the nation has made in many years. 
 For it seems quite impossible that, with that pre 
 cedent on the books, the Government will be able to 
 find excuses for continuing its diplomatic salaries at 
 the present mean figure. 
 
 P. S. VIENNA, January 10. I see, by this 
 morning s telegraphic news, that I am not to be the 
 new ambassador here, after all. This well, I 
 hardly know what to say. I well, of course, I do 
 not care anything about it ; but it is at least a sur 
 prise. I have for many months been using my in 
 fluence at Washington to get this diplomatic see 
 expanded into an ambassadorship, with the idea, of 
 course, th But never mind. Let it go. It is of 
 no consequence. I say it calmly; for I am calm. 
 But at the same time However, the subject has 
 no interest for me, and never had. I never really 
 intended to take the place, anyway I made up my 
 mind to it months and months ago, nearly a year. 
 But now, while I am calm, I would like to say this 
 that so long as I shall continue to possess an Ameri 
 can s proper pride in the honor and dignity of his 
 15 
 
230 Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 
 
 country, I will not take any ambassadorship in the 
 gift of the flag at a salary short of $75,000 a year. 
 If I shall be charged with wanting to live beyond my 
 country s means, I cannot help it. A country which 
 cannot afford ambassador s wages should be ashamed 
 to have ambassadors. 
 
 Think of a Seventeen-thousand-five-hundred-dollar 
 ambassador! Particularly for America. Why, it is 
 the most ludicrous spectacle, the most inconsistent and 
 incongruous spectacle, contrivable by even the most 
 diseased imagination. It is a billionaire in a paper 
 collar, a king in a breechclout, an archangel in a tin 
 halo. And, for pure sham and hypocrisy, the salary 
 is just the match of the ambassador s official clothes 
 that boastful advertisement of a Republican Sim 
 plicity which manifests itself at home in Fifty-thou 
 sand-dollar salaries to insurance presidents and rail 
 way lawyers, and in domestic palaces whose fittings 
 and furnishings often transcend in costly display and 
 splendor and richness the fittings and furnishings of 
 the palaces of the sceptred masters of Europe ; and 
 which has invented and exported to the Old World 
 the palace-car, the sleeping-car, the tram-car, the 
 electric trolley, the best bicycles, the best motor 
 cars, the steam-heater, the best and smartest systems 
 of electric calls and telephonic aids to laziness and 
 comfort, the elevator, the private bath-room (hot 
 and cold water on tap), the palace-hotel, with its 
 multifarious conveniences, comforts, shows, and 
 luxuries, the oh, the list is interminable! In a 
 
Diplomatic Pay and Clothes 231 
 
 word, Republican Simplicity found Europe with one 
 shirt on her back, so to speak, as far as real luxuries, 
 conveniences, and the comforts of life go, and has 
 clothed her to the chin with the latter. We are the 
 lavishest and showiest and most luxury-loving peo 
 ple on the earth ; and at our masthead we fly one 
 true and honest symbol, the gaudiest flag the world 
 has ever seen. Oh, Republican Simplicity, there 
 are many, many humbugs in the world, but none to 
 which you need take off your hat I 
 
IS HE LIVING OR IS HE DEAD 
 
 I WAS spending the month of March, 1892, at 
 Mentone, in the Riviera. At this retired spot 
 one has all the advantages, privately, which are to 
 be had at Monte Carlo and Nice, a few miles farther 
 along, publicly. That is to say, one has the flood 
 ing sunshine, the balmy air, and the brilliant blue 
 sea, without the marring additions of human pow 
 wow and fuss and feathers and display. Mentone is 
 quiet, simple, restful, unpretentious; the rich and 
 the gaudy do not come there. As a rule, I mean, 
 the rich do not come there. Now and then a rich 
 man comes, and I presently got acquainted with one 
 of these. Partially to disguise him I will call him 
 Smith. One day, in the Hotel des Anglais, at the 
 second breakfast, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Quick! Cast your eye on the man going out 
 at the door. Take in every detail of him." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Do you know who he is? " 
 
 " Yes. He spent several days here before you 
 came. He is an old, retired, and very rich silk 
 manufacturer from Lyons, they say, and I guess he 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 233 
 
 is alone in the world, for he always looks sad and 
 dreamy, and doesn t talk with anybody. His name 
 is Theophile Magnan . 
 
 I supposed that Smith would now proceed to 
 justify the large interest which he had shown in 
 Monsieur Magnan ; but instead he dropped into a 
 brown study, and was apparently lost to me and to 
 the rest of the world during some minutes. Now 
 and then he passed his fingers through his flossy 
 white hair, to assist his thinking, and meantime he 
 allowed his breakfast to go on cooling. At last he 
 said: 
 
 44 No, it s gone; I can t call it back." 
 
 4 Can t call what back?" 
 
 44 It s one of Hans Andersen s beautiful little 
 stories. But it s gone from me. Part of it is like 
 this: A child has a caged bird, which it loves, but 
 thoughtlessly neglects. The bird pours out its song 
 unheard and unheeded ; but in time, hunger and 
 thirst assail the creature, and its song grows plain 
 tive and feeble and finally ceases the bird dies. 
 The child comes, and is smitten to the heart with 
 remorse; then, with bitter tears and lamentations, 
 it calls its mates, and they bury the bird with 
 elaborate pomp and the tenderest grief, without 
 knowing, poor things, that it isn t children only who 
 starve poets to death and then spend enough on 
 their funerals and monuments to have kept them 
 alive and made them easy and comfortable. Now 
 
 But here we were interrupted. About ten that 
 
234 Is He Living or Is He Dead 
 
 evening I ran across Smith, and he asked me up to 
 his parlor to help him smoke and drink hot Scotch. 
 It was a cosy place, with its comfortable chairs, its 
 cheerful lamps, and its friendly open fire of seasoned 
 olive-wood. To make everything perfect, there was 
 the muffled booming of the surf outside. After the 
 second Scotch and much lazy and contented chat, 
 Smith said : 
 
 "Now we are properly primed I to tell a 
 curious history, and you to listen to it. It has been 
 a secret for many years a secret between me and 
 three others ; but I am going to break the seal now. 
 Are you comfortable? " 
 
 " Perfectly. Go on." 
 
 Here follows what he told me : 
 
 4 * A long time ago I was a young artist a very 
 young artist, in fact and I wandered about the 
 country parts of France, sketching here and sketch 
 ing there, and was presently joined by a couple of 
 darling young Frenchmen who were at the same kind 
 of thing that I was doing. We were as happy as we 
 were poor, or as poor as we were happy phrase it 
 to suit yourself. Claude Frere and Carl Boulanger 
 these are the names of those boys; dear, dear 
 fellows, and the sunniest spirits that ever laughed at 
 poverty and had a noble good time in all weathers. 
 
 " At last we ran hard aground in a Breton village, 
 and an artist as poor as ourselves took us in and 
 literally saved us from starving Frangois Millet " 
 
 " What ! the great Frangois Millet? " 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 235 
 
 " Great? He wasn t any greater than we were, 
 then. He hadn t any fame, even in his own village; 
 and he was so poor that he hadn t anything to feed 
 us on but turnips, and even the turnips failed us 
 sometimes. We four became fast friends, doting 
 friends, inseparables. We painted away together 
 with all our might, piling up stock, piling up stock, 
 but very seldom getting rid of any of it. We had 
 lovely times together; but, O my soul! how we 
 were pinched now and then ! 
 
 * For a little over two years this went on. At 
 last, one day, Claude said : 
 
 * * Boys, we ve come to the end. Do you under 
 stand that? absolutely to the end. Everybody 
 has struck there s a league formed against us. 
 I ve been all around the village and it s just as I 
 tell you. They refuse to credit us for another 
 centime until all the odds and ends are paid up. 
 
 44 This struck us cold. Every face was blank 
 with dismay. We realized that our circumstances 
 were desperate, now. There was a long silence. 
 Finally, Millet said with a sigh : 
 
 " Nothing occurs to me nothing. Suggest 
 something, lads. 
 
 "There was no response, unless a mournful 
 silence may be called a response. Carl got up, and 
 walked nervously up and down awhile, then said : 
 
 44 It s a shame! Look at these canvases: stacks 
 and stacks of as good pictures as anybody in 
 Europe paints I don t care who he is. Yes, and 
 
236 Is He Living or Is He Dead 
 
 plenty of lounging strangers have said the same 
 or nearly that, anyway. 
 
 " But didn t buy, Millet said. 
 
 " No matter, they said it; and it s true, too. 
 Look at your " Angelus " there! Will anybody 
 tell me 
 
 " Pah, Carl my "Angelus"! I was offered 
 five francs for it. 
 
 " When? 
 
 " Who offered it? 
 
 " Where is he? 
 
 " Why didn t you take it? 
 
 Come don t all speak at once. I though! 
 he would give more I was sure of it he looked 
 it so I asked him eight. 
 
 " Well and then? 
 
 " He said he would call again. 
 
 " Thunder and lightning! Why, Francois 
 
 Oh, I know I know! It was a mistake, and 
 I was a fool. Boys, I meant for the best; you ll 
 grant me that, and I 
 
 Why, certainly, we know that, bless your dear 
 heart; but don t you be a fool again. 
 
 " 4 I? I wish somebody would come along and 
 offer us a cabbage for it you d see ! 
 
 " A cabbage! Oh, don t name it it makes 
 my mouth water. Talk of things less trying. 
 
 Boys, said Carl, do these pictures lack 
 merit? Answer me that. 
 
 No! 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 237 
 
 * Aren t they of very great and high merit? 
 Answer me that. 
 " Yes. 
 
 Of such great and high merit that, if an illus 
 trious name were attached to them, they would sell 
 at splendid prices. Isn t it so? 
 
 Certainly it is. Nobody doubts that. 
 
 But I m not joking isn t it so? 
 
 Why, of course it s so and we are not jok 
 ing. But what of it? What of it? How does that 
 concern us? 
 
 In this way, comrades we ll attack an illus 
 trious name to them ! 
 
 "The lively conversation stopped. The faces 
 were turned inquiringly upon Carl. What sort oi 
 riddle might this be? Where was an illustrious name 
 to be borrowed? And who was to borrow it? 
 " Carl sat down, and said: 
 
 Now, I have a perfectly serious thing to pro 
 pose. I think it is the only way to keep us out of 
 the almshouse, and I believe it to be a perfectly 
 sure way. I base this opinion upon certain multi 
 tudinous and long-established facts in human history. 
 I believe my project will make us all rich. 
 
 Rich ! You ve lost your mind. 
 " 4 No, I haven t. 
 
 Yes, you have you ve lost your mind. 
 What do you call rich ? 
 
 " A hundred thousand francs apiece. 
 " He has lost his mind. I knew it. 
 
238 Is He Living or Is He Dead 
 
 " Yes, he has. Carl, privation has been too 
 much for you, and 
 
 " 4 Carl, you want to take a pill and get right to 
 bed/: 
 
 " Bandage him first bandage his head, and 
 then 
 
 " No, bandage his heels; his brains have been 
 settling for weeks I ve noticed it. 
 
 " Shut up ! said Millet, with ostensible severity, 
 4 and let the boy say his say. Now, then come 
 out with your project, Carl. What is it? 
 
 " Well, then, by way of preamble I will ask you 
 to note this fact in human history: that the merit 
 of many a great artist has never been acknowledged 
 until after he was starved and dead. This has hap* 
 pened so often that I make bold to found a law upon 
 it. This law : that the merit of every great unknown 
 and neglected artist must and will be recognized, 
 and his pictures climb to high prices after his death. 
 My project is this: we must cast lots one of us 
 must die. 
 
 The remark fell so calmly and so unexpectedly 
 that we almost forgot to jump. Then there was a 
 wild chorus of advice again medical advice for 
 the help of Carl s brain; but he waited patiently for 
 the hilarity to calm down, then went on again with 
 his project: 
 
 Yes, one of us must die, to save the others 
 and himself. We will cast lots. The one chosen 
 shall be illustrious, all of us shall be rich. Hold 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 239 
 
 still, now hold still; don t interrupt I tell you 
 I know what I am talking about. Here is the idea. 
 During the next three months the one who is to die 
 shall paint with all his might, enlarge his stock all 
 he can not pictures, no! skeleton sketches, 
 studies, parts of studies, fragments of studies, a 
 dozen dabs of the brush on each meaningless, of 
 course, but his with his cipher on them ; turn out 
 fifty a day, each to contain some peculiarity or man 
 nerism easily detectable as his they re the things 
 that sell, you know, and are collected at fabulous 
 prices for the world s museums, after the great man 
 is gone; we ll have a ton of them ready a ton ! 
 And all that time the rest of us will be busy support 
 ing the moribund, and working Paris and the dealers 
 preparations for the coming event, you know ; and 
 when everything is hot and just right, we ll spring 
 the death on them and have the notorious funeral. 
 You get the idea? 
 
 * N-o ; at least, not qu 
 
 4 Not quite? Don t you see? The man doesn t 
 really die ; he changes his name and vanishes ; we 
 bury a dummy, and cry over it, with ail the world to 
 help. And I 
 
 "But he wasn t allowed to finish. Everybody 
 broke out into a rousing hurrah of applause ; and all 
 jumped up and capered about the room and fell on 
 each other s necks in transports of gratitude and 
 joy. For hours we talked over the great plan, with 
 out ever feeling hungry; and at last, when all the 
 
240 Is He Living or Is He Dead 
 
 details had been arranged satisfactorily, we cast lots 
 and Millet was elected elected to die, as we called 
 it. Then we scraped together those things which 
 one never parts with until he is betting them against 
 future wealth keepsake trinkets and such like 
 and these we pawned for enough to furnish us a 
 frugal farewell supper and breakfast, and leave us a 
 few francs over for travel, and a stake of turnips and 
 such for Millet to live on for a few days. 
 
 1 Next morning, early, the three of us cleared 
 out, straightway after breakfast on foot, of course. 
 Each of us carried a dozen of Millet s small pictures, 
 purposing to market them. Carl struck for Paris, 
 where he would start the work of building up Mil 
 let s fame against the coming great day. Claude 
 and I were to separate, and scatter abroad over 
 France. 
 
 1 Now, it will surprise you to know what an easy 
 and comfortable thing we had. I walked two days 
 before I began business. Then I began to sketch a 
 villa in the outskirts of a big town because I saw 
 the proprietor standing on an upper veranda. He 
 came down to look on I thought he would. I 
 worked swiftly, intending to keep him interested. 
 Occasionally he fired off a little ejaculation of appro 
 bation, and by and by he spoke up with enthusiasm, 
 and said I was a master ! 
 
 " I put down my brush, reached into my satchel, 
 fetched out a Millet, and pointed to the cipher in 
 the corner. I said, proudly: 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 241 
 
 4 1 suppose you recognize tJiat ? Well, he 
 taught me ! I should think I ought to know my 
 trade ! 
 
 * The man looked guiltily embarrassed, and was 
 silent. I said, sorrowfully: 
 
 4 You don t mean to intimate that you don t 
 know the cipher of Francois Millet ! 
 
 "Of course he didn t know that cipher; but he 
 was the gratefulest man you ever saw, just the same, 
 for being let out of an uncomfortable place on such 
 easy terms. He said: 
 
 " No! Why, it is Millet s, sure enough ! I 
 don t know what I could have been thinking of. 
 Of course I recognize it now. 
 
 1 Next, he wanted to buy it ; but I said that 
 although I wasn t rich I wasn t that poor. How 
 ever, at last, I let him have it for eight hundred 
 francs." 
 
 "Eight hundred!" 
 
 Yes. Millet would have sold it for a pork chop. 
 Yes, I got eight hundred francs for that little thing. 
 I wish I could get it back for eighty thousand. 
 But that time s gone by. I made a very nice picture 
 of that man s house, and I wanted to offer it to him 
 for ten francs, but that wouldn t answer, seeing I 
 was the pupil of such a master, so I sold it to him 
 for a hundred. I sent the eight hundred francs 
 straight back to Millet from that town and struck out 
 again next day. 
 
 " But I didn t walk no. I rode. I have ridden 
 
 16 
 
242 Is He Living or Is He Dead 
 
 ever since. I sold one picture every day, and never 
 tried to sell two. I always said to my customer: 
 
 1 I am a fool to sell a picture of Francois Mil 
 let s at all, for that man is not going to live three 
 months, and when he dies his pictures can t be had 
 for love or money. 
 
 * I took care to spread that little fact as far as I 
 could, and prepare the world for the event. 
 
 " I take credit to myself for our plan of selling 
 the pictures it was mine. I suggested it that last 
 evening when we were laying out our campaign, and 
 all three of us agreed to give it a good fair trial be 
 fore giving it up for some other. It succeeded with 
 all of us. I walked only two days, Claude walked 
 two both of us afraid to make Millet celebrated 
 too close to home but Carl walked only half a 
 day, the bright, conscienceless rascal, and after that 
 he traveled like a duke. 
 
 11 Every now and then we got in with a country 
 editor and started an item around through the press ; 
 not an item announcing that a new painter had been 
 discovered, but an item which let on that everybody 
 knew Francois Millet; not an item praising him in 
 any way, but merely a word concerning the present 
 condition of the master sometimes hopeful, 
 sometimes despondent, but always tinged with fears 
 for the worst. We always marked these paragraphs, 
 and sent the papers to all the people who had 
 bought pictures of us. 
 
 " Carl was soon in Paris., and he worked things 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 243 
 
 with a high hand. He made friends with the cor 
 respondents, and got Millet s condition reported to 
 England and all over the continent, and America, 
 and everywhere. 
 
 At the end of six weeks from the start, we three 
 met in Paris and called a halt, and stopped sending 
 back to Millet for additional pictures. The boom 
 was so high, and everything so ripe, that we saw 
 that it would be a mistake not to strike now, right 
 away, without waiting any longer. So we wrote 
 Millet to go to bed and begin to waste away pretty 
 fast, for we should like him to die in ten days if he 
 could get ready. 
 
 " Then we figured up and found that among us we 
 had sold eighty-five small pictures and studies, and 
 had sixty- nine thousand francs to show for it. Carl 
 had made the last sale and the most brilliant one of 
 all. He sold the Angelus for twenty-two hundred 
 francs. How we did glorify him! not foreseeing 
 that a day was coming by and by when France would 
 struggle to own it and a stranger would capture it 
 for five hundred and fifty thousand, cash. 
 
 1 We had a wind-up champagne supper that 
 night, and next day Claude and I packed up and 
 went off to nurse Millet through his last days and 
 keep busybodies out of the house and send daily 
 bulletins to Carl in Paris for publication in the 
 papers of several continents for the information of a 
 waiting world. The sad end came at last, and Carl 
 was there in time to help in the final mournful rites. 
 
244 Is He Living or Is He Dead 
 
 You remember that great funeral, and what a 
 stir it made all over the globe, and how the illus 
 trious of two worlds came to attend it and testify 
 their sorrow. We four still inseparable carried 
 the coffin, and would allow none to help. And we 
 were right about that, because it hadn t anything in 
 it but a wax figure, and any other coffin-bearers 
 would have found fault with the weight. Yes, we 
 same old four, who had lovingly shared privation 
 together in the old hard times now gone forever, 
 carried the cof 
 
 " Which f our ?" 
 
 4 We four for Millet helped to carry his own 
 coffin. In disguise, you know. Disguised as a 
 relative distant relative. 
 
 44 Astonishing! " 
 
 4 But true, just the same. Well, you remember 
 how the pictures went up. Money? We didn t 
 know what to do with it. There s a man in Paris 
 to-day who owns seventy Millet pictures. He paid 
 us two million francs for them. And as for the 
 bushels of sketches and studies which Millet shoveled 
 out during the six weeks that we were on the road, 
 well, it would astonish you to know the figure we 
 sell them at nowadays that iis, when we consent 
 to let one go ! " 
 
 44 It is a wonderful history, perfectly wonderful ! " 
 
 "Yes it amounts to that." 
 
 44 Whatever became of Millet? " 
 
 " Can you keep a secret? " 
 
Is He Living or Is He Dead 245 
 
 "lean." 
 
 44 Do you remember the man I called your atten 
 tion to in the dining-room to-day? That was 
 Francois Millet." 
 
 41 Great " 
 
 " Scott! Yes. For once they didn t starve a 
 genius to death and then put into other pockets the 
 rewards he should have had himself. This song 
 bird was not allowed to pipe out its heart unheard 
 and then be paid with the cold pomp of a big 
 funeral. We looked out for that." 
 
MY BOYHOOD DREAMS 
 
 THE dreams of my boyhood? No, they have not 
 been realized. For all who are old, there is 
 something infinitely pathetic about the subject which 
 you have chosen, for in no gray-head s case can it 
 suggest any but one thing disappointment. Dis 
 appointment is its own reason for its pain : the 
 quality or dignity of the hope that failed is a matter 
 aside. The dreamer s valuation of a thing lost 
 not another man s is the only standard to measure 
 it by, and his grief for it makes it large and great 
 and fine, and is worthy of our reverence in all cases. 
 We should carefully remember that. There are six 
 teen hundred million people in the world. Of these 
 there is but a trifling number in fact, only thirty- 
 eight million who can understand why a person 
 should have an ambition to belong to the French 
 army; and why, belonging to it, he should be proud 
 of that; and why, having got down that far, he 
 should want to go on down, down, down till he 
 struck bottom and got on the General Staff; and 
 why, being stripped of his livery, or set free and 
 reinvested with his self-respect by any other quick 
 
 (346) 
 
My Boyhood Dreams 24/ 
 
 and thorough process, let it be what it might, he 
 should wish to return to his strange serfage. But 
 no matter: the estimate put upon these things by 
 the fifteen hundred and sixty millions is no proper 
 measure of their value: the proper measure, the 
 just measure, is that which is put upon them by 
 Dreyfus, and is cipherable merely upon the littleness 
 or the vastness of the disappointment which their 
 loss cost him. 
 
 There you have it: the measure of the magnitude 
 of a dream-failure is the measure of the disappoint 
 ment the failure cost the dreamer; the value, in 
 others eyes, of the thing lost, has nothing to do 
 with the matter. With this straightening-out and 
 classification of the dreamer s position to help us, 
 perhaps we can put ourselves in his place and re 
 spect his dream Dreyfus s, and the dreams our 
 friends have cherished and reveal to us. Some that 
 I call to mind, some that have been revealed to me, 
 are curious enough; but we may not smile at them, 
 for they were precious to the dreamers, and their 
 failure has left scars which give them dignity and 
 pathos. With this theme in my mind, dear heads that 
 were brown when they and mine were young together 
 rise old and white before me now, beseeching me to 
 speak for them, and most lovingly will I do it. 
 
 Howells, Hay, Aldrich, Matthews, Stockton, 
 Cable, Remus how their young hopes and am 
 bitions come flooding back to my memory now, out 
 of the vague far past, the beautiful past, the 
 
248 My Boyhood Dreams 
 
 lamented past! I remember it so well that night 
 we met together it was in Boston, and Mr. Fields 
 was there, and Mr. Osgood, and Ralph Keeler, and 
 Boyle O Reilly, lost to us now these many years 
 and under the seal of confidence revealed to each 
 other what our boyhood dreams had been : dreams 
 which had not as yet been blighted, but over which 
 was stealing the gray of the night that was to come 
 a night which we prophetically felt, and this feel 
 ing oppressed us and made us sad. I remember that 
 Howells s voice broke twice, and it was only with 
 great difficulty that he was able to go on ; in the end 
 he wept. For he had hoped to be an auctioneer. 
 He told of his early struggles to climb to his 
 goal, and how at last he attained to within a single 
 step of the coveted summit. But there misfortune 
 after misfortune assailed him, and he went down, 
 and down, and down, until now at last, weary and 
 disheartened, he had for the present given up the 
 struggle and become editor of the Atlantic Monthly. 
 This was in 1830. Seventy years are gone since, 
 and where now is his dream? It will never be ful 
 filled. And it is best so ; he is no longer fitted for 
 the position ; no one would take him now ; even if 
 he got it, he would not be able to do himself credit 
 in it, on account of his deliberateness of speech and 
 lack of trained professional vivacity; he would be 
 put on real estate, and would have the pain of seeing 
 younger and abler men intrusted with the furniture 
 and other such goods goods which draw a mixed 
 
My Boyhood Dreams 249 
 
 and intellectually low order of customers, who must 
 be beguiled of their bids by a vulgar and specialized 
 humor and sparkle, accompanied with antics. 
 
 But it is not the thing lost that counts, but only the 
 disappointment the loss brings to the dreamer that 
 had coveted that thing and had set his heart of 
 hearts upon it; and when we remember this, a great 
 wave of sorrow for Howells rises in our breasts, and 
 we wish for his sake that his fate could have been 
 different. 
 
 At that time Hay s boyhood dream was not yet 
 past hope of realization, but it was fading, dimming, 
 wasting away, and the wind of a growing apprehen 
 sion was blowing cold over the perishing summer of 
 his life. In the pride of his young ambition he had 
 aspired to be a steamboat mate; and in fancy 
 saw himself dominating a forecastle some day on the 
 Mississippi and dictating terms to roustabouts in 
 high and wounding tones. I look back now, from 
 this far distance of seventy years, and note with sor 
 row the stages of that dream s destruction. Hay s 
 history is but Howells s, with differences of detail. 
 Hay climbed high toward his ideal; when success 
 seemed almost sure, his foot upon the very gang 
 plank, his eye upon the capstan, misfortune came 
 and his fall began. Down down down ever 
 down : Private Secretary to the President ; Colonel 
 in the fiekl ; Charge d Affaires in Paris; Charge^ 
 d Affaires in Vienna; Poet; Editor of the Tribune* 
 Biographer of Lincoln; Ambassador to England*, 
 
250 My Boyhood Dreams 
 
 and now at last there he lies Secretary of State, 
 Head of Foreign Affairs. And he has fallen like 
 Lucifer, never to rise again. And his dream 
 where now is his dream? Gone down in blood and 
 tears with the dream of the auctioneer. 
 
 And the young dream of Aldrich where is that? 
 I remember yet how he sat there that night fondling 
 it, petting it ; seeing it recede and ever recede ; try 
 ing to be reconciled and give it up, but not able yet 
 to bear the thought ; for it had been his hope to be 
 a horse-doctor. He also climbed high, but, like the 
 others, fell; then fell again, and yet again, and 
 again and again. And now at last he can fall no 
 further. He is old now, he has ceased to struggle, 
 and is only a poet. No one would risk a horse with 
 him now. His dream is over. 
 
 Has any boyhood dream ever been fulfilled? I 
 must doubt it. Look at Brander Matthews. He 
 wanted to be a cowboy. What is he to-day? 
 Nothing but a professor in a university. Will he 
 ever be a cowboy? It is hardly conceivable. 
 
 Look at Stockton. What was Stockton s young 
 dream? He hoped to be a barkeeper. See where 
 he has landed. 
 
 Is it better with Cable? What was Cable s young 
 dream? To be ring-master in the circus, and swell 
 around and crack the whip. What is he to-day? 
 Nothing but a theologian and novelist. 
 
 And Uncle Remus what was his young dream? 
 To be a buccaneer. Look at him now. 
 
My Boyhood Dreams 251 
 
 Ah, the dreams of our youth, how beautiful they 
 are, and how perishable ! The ruins of these might- 
 have-beens, how pathetic! The heart-secrets that 
 were revealed that night now so long vanished, how 
 they touch me as I give them voice ! Those sweet 
 privacies, how they endeared us to each other! 
 We were under oath never to tell any of these 
 things, and I have always kept that oath inviolate 
 when speaking with persons whom I thought not 
 worthy to hear them. 
 
 Oh, our lost Youth God keep its memory green 
 in our hearts ! for Age is upon us, with the in 
 dignity of its infirmities, and Death beckons ! 
 
 TO THE ABOVE OLD PEOPLE. 
 
 Sleep ! for the Sun that scores another Day 
 Against the Tale allotted You to stay, 
 Reminding You, is Risen, and now 
 Serves Notice ah, ignore it while You may! 
 
 The chill Wind blew, and those who stood before 
 The Tavern murmured, " Having drunk his Score, 
 
 Why tarries He with empty Cup ? Behold, 
 The Wine of Youth once poured, is poured no more. 
 
 "Come leave the Cup, and on the Winter s Snow 
 Your Summer Garment of Enjoyment throw: 
 
 Your Tide of Life is ebbing fast, and it, 
 Exhausted once, for You no more shall flow." 
 
252 My Boyhood Dreams 
 
 While yet the Phantam of false Youth was mine, 
 I heard a Voice from out the Darkness whine, 
 
 " O Youth, O whither gone? Return, 
 And bathe my Age in thy reviving Wine." 
 
 In this subduing Draught of tender green 
 And kindly Absinthe, with its wimpling Sheen 
 
 Of dusky half-lights, let me drown 
 The haunting Pathos of the Might-Have-Been. 
 
 For every nickeled Joy, marred and brief, 
 We pay some day its Weight in golden Grief 
 
 Mined from our Hearts. Ah, murmur not 
 From this one-sided Bargain dream of no Relief ! 
 
 The Joy of Life, that streaming through their Veins 
 Tumultuous swept, falls slack and wanes 
 The Glory in the Eye and one by one 
 Life s Pleasures perish and make place for Pains. 
 
 Whether one hide in some secluded Nook 
 Whether at Liverpool or Sandy Hook 
 
 Tis one. Old Age will search him out and He 
 He He when ready will know where to look. 
 
 From Cradle unto Grave I keep a House 
 Of Entertainment where may drowse 
 
 Bacilli and kindred Germs or feed or breed 
 Their festering Species in a deep Carouse. 
 
 Think in this battered Caravanserai, 
 Whose Portals open stand all Night and Day, 
 How Microbe after Microbe with his Pomp 
 Arrives unasked, and comes to stay. 
 
 Oup ivory Teeth, confessing to the Lust 
 Of masticating, once, now own Disgust 
 
 Of Clay-plug d Cavities full soon our Snags 
 Are emptied, and our Mouths are filled with Dust. 
 
My Boyhood Dreams 253 
 
 Our Gums forsake the Teeth and tender grow, 
 And fat, like over-ripened Figs we know 
 
 The Sign the Riggs Disease is ours, and we 
 Must list this Sorrow, add another Woe. 
 
 Our Lungs begin to fail and soon we Cough, 
 And chilly Streaks play up our Backs, and off 
 
 Our fever d Foreheads drips an icy Sweat 
 We scoffed before, but now we may not scoff. 
 
 Some for the Bunions that afflict us prate 
 Of Plasters unsurpassable, and hate 
 
 To cut a Corn ah cut, and let the Plaster go, 
 Nor murmur if the Solace come too late. 
 
 Some for the Honors of Old Age, and some 
 Long for its Respite from the Hum 
 
 And Clash of sordid Strife O Fools, 
 The Past should teach them what s to Come: 
 
 Lo, for the Honors, cold Neglect instead ! 
 For Respite, disputatious Heirs a Bed 
 
 Of Thorns for them will furnish. Go, 
 Seek not Here for Peace but Yonder with the Dead. 
 
 For whether Zal and Rustam heed this Sign, 
 And even smitten thus, will not repine, 
 
 Let Zal and Rustam shuffle as they may, 
 The Fine once levied they must Cash the Fine. 
 
 O Voices of the Long Ago that were so dear ! 
 Fall n Silent, now, for many a Mould ring Year, 
 
 O whither are ye flown? Come back, 
 And break my Heart, but bless my grieving ear. 
 
 Some happy Day my Voice will Silent fall, 
 And answer not when some that love it call : 
 
 Be glad for Me when this you note and think 
 I ve found the Voices lost, beyond the Pall. 
 
254 My Boyhood Dreams 
 
 So let me grateful drain the Magic Bowl 
 That medicines hurt Minds and on the Soul 
 
 The Healing of its Peace doth lay if then 
 Death claim me Welcome be his Dole ! 
 SANNA, SWEDEN, September i$tk. 
 
 Private. If you don t know what Riggs s Disease of the Teeth is, 
 the dentist will tell you. I ve had it and it is more than interesting. 
 
 S. L, C. 
 
 EDITORIAL NOTE. 
 
 Fearing that there might be some mistake, we submitted a proof of 
 this article to the (American) gentlemen named in it, and asked them 
 to correct any errors of detail that might have crept in among the facts. 
 They reply with some asperity that errors cannot creep in among facts 
 where there are no facts for them to creep in among; and that none are 
 discoverable in this article, but only baseless aberrations of a disordered 
 mind. They have no recollection of any such night in Boston, nor else 
 where; and in their opinion there was never any such night. They 
 have met Mr. Twain, but have had the prudence not to intrust any 
 privacies to him particularly under oath; and they think they now see 
 that this prudence was justified, since he has been untrustworthy enough 
 to even betray privacies which had no existence. Further they think 
 it a strange thing that Mr. Twain, who was never invited to meddle with 
 anybody s boyhood dreams but his own, has been so gratuitously anxious 
 to see that other people s are placed before the world that he has quite 
 lost his head in his zeal and forgotten to make any mention of his own at 
 all. Provided we insert this explanation, they are willing to let his article 
 pass; otherwise they must require its suppression in the interest of truth. 
 
 P. S. These replies having left us in some perplexity, and also in 
 some fear lest they might distress Mr. Twain if published without his 
 privity, we judged it but fair to submit them to him and give him an 
 opportunity to defend himself. But he does not seem to be troubled, or 
 even aware that he is in a delicate situation. He merely says: 
 
 "Do not worry about those former young people. They can write 
 good literature, but when it comes to speaking the truth, they have not 
 had my training. MARK TWAIN." 
 
 The last sentence seems obscure, and liable to an unfortunate con 
 struction. It plainly needs refashioning, but we cannot take the responsi 
 bility of doing it. EDITOR. 
 
THE AUSTRIAN EDISON KEEPING 
 SCHOOL AGAIN 
 
 BY a paragraph in the Freie Prcsse it appears that 
 Jan Szczepanik, the youthful inventor of the 
 
 telelectroscope " (for seeing at great distances) 
 and some other scientific marvels, has been having 
 an odd adventure, by help of the state. 
 
 Vienna is hospitably ready to smile whenever there 
 is an opportunity, and this seems to be a fair one. 
 Three or four years ago, when Szczepanik was 
 nineteen or twenty years old, he was a schoolmaster 
 in a Moravian village, on a salary of I forget the 
 amount, but no matter; there was not enough of it 
 to remember. His head was full of inventions, and 
 in his odd hours he began to plan them out. He 
 soon perfected an ingenious invention for applying 
 photography to pattern-designing as used in the 
 textile industries, whereby he proposed to reduce 
 the customary outlay of time, labor, and money 
 expended on that department of loom-work to next 
 to nothing. He wanted to carry his project to 
 Vienna and market it ; and as he could not get leave 
 of absence, he made his trip without leave. This 
 
 (365) 
 
256 The Austrian Edison Keeping School Again 
 
 lost him his place, but did not gain him his market. 
 When his money ran out he went back home, and 
 was presently reinstated. By and by he deserted 
 once more, and went to Vienna, and this time he 
 made some friends who assisted him, and his inven 
 tion was sold to England and Germany for a great 
 sum. During the past three years he has been ex 
 perimenting and investigating in velvety comfort. 
 His most picturesque achievement is his telelectro- 
 scope, a device which a number of able men in 
 cluding Mr. Edison, I think had already tried their 
 hands at, with prospects of eventual success. A 
 Frenchman came near to solving the difficult and in 
 tricate problem fifteen years ago, but an essential 
 detail was lacking which he could not master, and he 
 suffered defeat. Szczepanik s experiments with his 
 pattern-designing project revealed to him the secret 
 of the lacking detail. He perfected his invention, 
 and a French syndicate has bought it, and saved it 
 for exhibition and fortune-making at the Paris 
 world s fair. 
 
 As a schoolmaster Szczepanik was exempt from 
 military duty. When he ceased from teaching, be 
 ing an educated man he could have had himself en 
 rolled as a one-year volunteer ; but he forgot to do 
 jt, and this exposed him to the privilege, and also 
 the necessity, of serving three years in the army. 
 In the course of duty, the other day, an official dis 
 covered the inventor s indebtedness to the state, and 
 took the proper measures to collect. At first there 
 
The Austrian Edison Keeping School Again 257 
 
 seemed to be no way for the inventor (and the 
 state) out of the difficulty. The authorities were 
 loath to take the young man out of his great labora 
 tory, where he was helping to shove the whole 
 human race along on its road to new prosperities and 
 scientific conquests, and suspend operations in his 
 mental Klondike three years, while he punched the 
 empty air with a bayonet in a time of peace ; but 
 there was the law, and how was it to be helped? It 
 was a difficult puzzle, but the authorities labored at 
 it until they found a forgotten law somewhere which 
 furnished a loop-hole a large one, and a long one, 
 too, as it looks to me. By this piece of good luck 
 Szczepanik is saved from soldiering, but he becomes 
 a schoolmaster again; and it is a sufficiently pictur 
 esque billet, when you examine it. He must go back 
 to his village every two months, and teach his school 
 half a day from early in the morning until noon; 
 and, to the best of my understanding of the pub 
 lished terms, he must keep this up the rest of his 
 life! I hope so, just for the romantic poeticalness 
 of it. He is twenty-four, strongly and compactly 
 built, and comes of an ancestry accustomed to wait 
 ing to see its great-grandchildren married. It is 
 almost certain that he will live to be ninety. I hope 
 so. This promises him sixty-six years of useful 
 school service. Dissected, it gives him a chance to 
 teach school 396 half-days, make 396 railway trips 
 going and 396 back, pay bed and board 396 times 
 
 in the village, and lose possibly 1,200 days from his 
 17 
 
258 The Austrian Edison Keeping School Again 
 
 laboratory work that is to say, three years and 
 three months or so. And he already owes three 
 years to this same account. This has been over 
 looked; I shall call the attention of the authorities 
 to it. It may be possible for him to get a compro 
 mise on this compromise by doing his three years in 
 the army, and saving one; but I think it can t hap 
 pen. This government " holds the age" on him; 
 it has what is technically called a good thing in 
 financial circles, and knows a good thing when it 
 sees it. I know the inventor very well, and he has 
 my sympathy. This Is friendship. But I am 
 throwing my influence with the government. This 
 is politics. 
 
 Szczepanik left for his village in Moravia day be 
 fore yesterday to "do time " for the first time under 
 his sentence. Early yesterday morning he started 
 for the school in a fine carriage, which was stocked 
 with fruits, cakes, toys, and all sorts of knick- 
 knacks, rarities, and surprises for the children, and 
 was met on the road by the school and a body of 
 schoolmasters from the neighboring districts, march 
 ing in column, with the village authorities at the 
 head, and was received with the enthusiastic welcome 
 proper to the man who had made their village s 
 name celebrated, and conducted in state to the 
 humble doors which had been shut against him as a 
 deserter three years before. It is out of materials 
 like these that romances are woven ; and when the 
 romancer has done his best, he has not improved 
 
The Austrian Edison Keeping School Again 259 
 
 upon the unpainted facts. Szczepanik put the sap 
 less school-books aside, and led the children a noli- 
 day dance through the enchanted lands of science 
 and invention, explaining to them some of the 
 curious things which he had .contrived, and the laws 
 which governed their construction and performance, 
 and illustrating these matters with pictures and 
 models and other helps to a clear understanding of 
 their fascinating mysteries. After this there was 
 play and a distribution of the fruits and toys and 
 things; and after this, again, some more science, 
 including the story of the invention of the telephone, 
 and an explanation of its character and laws, for the 
 convict had brought a telephone along. The 
 children saw that wonder for the first time, and they 
 also personally tested its powers and verified them. 
 Then school * let out " ; the teacher got his certifi 
 cate, all signed, stamped, taxed, and so on, said 
 good-by, and drove off in his carriage under a 
 storm of " Do widzenia / " ( * Au revoir / ") from 
 the children, who will resume their customary 
 sobrieties until he comes in August and uncorks his 
 flask of scientific fire-water again. 
 
EXTRACTS FROM ADAM S DIARY 
 
 MONDAY. This new creature with the long hair 
 is a good deal in the way. It is always hang 
 ing around and following me about. I don t like 
 this; I am not used to company. I wish it would 
 stay with the other animals. . . . Cloudy to-day, 
 wind in the east; think we shall have rain. . . . 
 We ? Where did I get that word ? I remember 
 now -the new creature uses it. 
 
 TUESDAY. Been examining the great waterfall. 
 It is the finest thing on the estate, I think. The 
 new creature calls it Niagara Falls why, I am sure 
 I do not know. Says it looks like Niagara Falls. 
 That is not a reason, it is mere waywardness and 
 imbecility. I get no chance to name anything my 
 self. The new creature names everything that comes 
 along, before I can get in a protest. And always 
 that same pretext is offered it looks like the thing. 
 There is the dodo, for instance. Says the moment 
 one looks at it one sees at a glance that it * looks 
 like a dodo." It will have to keep that name, no 
 doubt. It wearies me to fret about it, and it does 
 no good, anyway. Dodo ! It looks no more like a 
 dodo than I do. 
 
 WEDNESDAY. Built me a shelter against the rain, 
 
 (260) 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 261 
 
 but could not have it to myself in peace. The new 
 creature intruded. When I tried to put it out it shed 
 water out of the holes it looks with, and wiped it 
 away with the back of its paws, and made a noise 
 such as some of the other animals make when they 
 are in distress. I wish it would not talk; it is 
 always talking. That sounds like a cheap fling at 
 the poor creature, a slur ; but I do not mean it so. 
 I have never heard the human voice before, and any 
 new and strange sound intruding itself here upon the 
 solemn hush of these dreaming solitudes offends my 
 ear and seems a false note. And this new sound is so 
 close to me ; it is right at my shoulder, right at my ear, 
 first on one side and then on the other, and I am used 
 only to sounds that are more or less distant from me. 
 FRIDAY. The naming goes recklessly on, in 
 spite of anything I can do. I had a very good 
 name for the estate, and it was musical and pretty 
 GARDEN OF EDEN. Privately, I continue to call 
 it that, but not any longer publicly. The new 
 creature says it is all woods and rocks and scenery 
 and therefore has no resemblance to a garden. 
 Says it looks like a park, and does not look like 
 anything but a park. Consequently, without con 
 sulting me, it has been new-named NIAGARA 
 FALLS PARK. This is sufficiently high-handed, it 
 seems to me. And already there is a sign up: 
 
 KEEP OFF 
 THE GRASS 
 
 My life is not as happy as it was. 
 17 
 
262 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 SATURDAY. The new creature eats too much 
 fruit. We are going to run short, most likely. 
 "We" again that is its word; mine, too, now, 
 from hearing it so much. Good deal of fog this 
 morning. I do not go out in the fog myself. The 
 new creature does. It goes out in all weathers, and 
 stumps right in with its muddy feet. And talks. It 
 used to be so pleasant and quiet here. 
 
 SUNDAY. Pulled through. This day is getting 
 to be more and more trying. It was selected and 
 set apart last November as a day of rest. I had 
 already six of them per week before. This morning 
 found the new creature trying to clod apples out of 
 that forbidden tree. 
 
 MONDAY. The new creature says its name is 
 Eve. That is all right, I have no objections. Says 
 it is to call it by, when I want it to come. I said it 
 was superfluous, then. The word evidently raised 
 me in its respect; and indeed it is a large, good 
 word and will bear repetition. It says it is not an 
 It, it is a She. This is probably doubtful ; yet it is 
 all one to me ; what she is were nothing to me if she 
 would but go by herself and not talk. 
 
 TUESDAY. She has littered the whole estate with 
 execrable names and offensive signs: 
 
 THIS WAY TO THE WHIRLPOOL. 
 
 THIS WAY TO GOAT ISLAND. 
 CAVE OF THE WINDS THIS WAY. 
 
 She says this park would make a tidy summer 
 resort if there was any custom for it. Summer 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 263 
 
 resort another invention of hers just words, 
 without any meaning. What is a summer resort? 
 But it is best not to ask her, she has such a rage for 
 explaining. 
 
 FRIDAY. She has taken to beseeching me to stop 
 going over the Falls. What harm does it do? 
 Says it makes her shudder. I wonder why; I 
 have always done it always liked the plunge, and 
 the excitement and the coolness. I supposed it was 
 what the Falls were for. They have no other use 
 that I can see, and they must have been made for 
 something. She says they were only made for 
 scenery like the rhinoceros and the mastodon. 
 
 I went over the Falls in a barrel not satisfactory 
 to her. Went over in a tub still not satisfactory. 
 Swam the Whirlpool and the Rapids in a fig-leaf 
 suit. It got much damaged. Hence, tedious com 
 plaints about my extravagance. I am too much 
 hampered here. What I need is change of scene. 
 
 SATURDAY. I escaped last Tuesday night, and 
 traveled two days, and built me another shelter in a 
 secluded place, and obliterated my tracks as well as I 
 could, but she hunted me out by means of a beast 
 which she has tamed and calls a wolf, and came 
 making that pitiful noise again, and shedding that 
 water out of the places she looks with. I was 
 obliged to return with her, but will presently emi 
 grate again when occasion offers. She engages her 
 self in many foolish things ; among others, to study 
 out why the animals called lions and tigers live on 
 
264 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 grass and flowers, when, as she says, the sort of teeth 
 they wear would indicate that they were intended to 
 eat each other. This is foolish, because to do that 
 would be to kill each other, and that would introduce 
 what, as I understand it, is called "death"; and 
 death, as I have been told, has not yet entered the 
 Park. Which is a pity, on some accounts. 
 
 SUNDAY. Pulled through. 
 
 MONDAY. I believe I see what the week is for : 
 it is to give time to rest up from the weariness of 
 Sunday. It seems a good idea. . . . She has been 
 climbing that tree again. Clodded her out of it. 
 She said nobody was looking. Seems to consider 
 that a sufficient justification for chancing any 
 dangerous thing. Told her that. The word justi 
 fication moved her admiration and envy, too, I 
 thought. It is a good word, 
 
 TUESDAY. She told me she was made out of a 
 rib taken from my body. This is at least doubtful, 
 if not more than that. I have not missed any rib. 
 . . . She is in much trouble about the buzzard ; 
 says grass does not agree with it; is afraid she can t 
 raise it; thinks it was intended to live on decayed 
 flesh. The buzzard must get along the best it can 
 with what it is provided. We cannot overturn the 
 whole scheme to accommodate the buzzard. 
 
 SATURDAY. She fell in the pond yesterday when 
 she was looking at herself in it, which she is always 
 doing. She nearly strangled, and said it was most 
 uncomfortable. This made her sorry for the crea- 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 265 
 
 tures which live in there, which she calls fish, for 
 she continues to fasten names on to things that don t 
 need them and don t come when they are called by 
 them, which is a matter of no consequence to her, 
 she is such a numskull, anyway; so she got a lot of 
 them out and brought them in last night and put 
 them in my bed to keep warm, but I have noticed 
 them now and then all day and I don t see that they 
 are any happier there than they were before, only 
 quieter. When night comes I shall throw them 
 outdoors. I will not sleep with them again, for I 
 find them clammy and unpleasant to lie among when 
 a person hasn t anything on. 
 
 SUNDAY. Pulled through. 
 
 TUESDAY. - She has taken up with a snake now. 
 The other animals are glad, for she was always ex 
 perimenting with them and bothering them; and I 
 am glad because the snake talks, and this enables me 
 to get a rest. 
 
 FRIDAY. She says the snake advises her to try 
 the fruit of that tree, and says the result will be a 
 great and fine and noble education. I told her there 
 would be another result, too it would introduce 
 death into the world. That was a mistake it had 
 been better to keep the remark to myself; it only 
 gave her an idea she could save the sick buzzard, 
 and furnish fresh meat to the despondent lions and 
 tigers. I advised her to keep away from the tree. 
 She said she wouldn t. I foresee trouble. Will 
 emigrate. 
 
266 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 WEDNESDAY.- I have had a variegated time. I 
 escaped last night, and rode a horse all night as fast 
 as he could go, hoping to get clear out of the Park 
 and hide in some other country before the trouble 
 should begin; but it was not to be. About an hour 
 after sun-up, as I was riding through a flowery plain 
 where thousands of animals were grazing, slumber 
 ing, or playing with each other, according to their 
 wont, all of a sudden they broke into a tempest of 
 frightful noises, and in one moment the plain was a 
 frantic commotion and every beast was destroying 
 its neighbor. I knew what it meant Eve had 
 eaten that fruit, and death was come into the world. 
 . . . The tigers ate my horse, paying no attention 
 when I ordered them to desist, and they would have 
 eaten me if I had stayed which I didn t, but went 
 away in much haste. ... I found this place, out 
 side the Park, and was fairly comfortable for a few 
 days, but she has found me out. Found me out, 
 and has named the place Tonawanda says it looks 
 like that. In fact I was not sorry she came, for 
 there are but meagre pickings here, and she brought 
 some of those apples. I was obliged to eat them, I 
 was so hungry. It was against my principles, but I 
 find that principles have no real force except when 
 one is well fed. . . . She came curtained in boughs 
 and bunches of leaves, and when I asked her what 
 she meant by such nonsense, and snatched them 
 away and threw them down, she tittered and 
 blushed. I had never seen a person titter and blush 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 267 
 
 before, and to me it seemed unbecoming and idiotic. 
 She said I would soon know how it was myself. 
 This was correct. Hungry as I was, I laid down 
 the apple half-eaten certainly the best one I ever 
 saw, considering the lateness of the season and 
 arrayed myself in the discarded boughs and 
 branches, and then spoke to her with some severity 
 and ordered her to go and get some more and not 
 make such a spectacle of herself. She did it, and 
 after this we crept down to where the wild-beast 
 battle had been, and collected some skins, and I 
 made her patch together a couple of suits proper for 
 public occasions. They are uncomfortable, it is 
 true, but stylish, and that is the main point about 
 clothes. ... I find she is a good deal of a com 
 panion. I see I should be lonesome and depressed 
 without her, now that I have lost my property. 
 Another thing, she says it is ordered that we work 
 for our living hereafter. She will be useful. I will 
 superintend. 
 
 TEN DAYS LATER. She accuses me of being the 
 cause of our disaster ! She says, with apparent 
 sincerity and truth, that the Serpent assured her that 
 the forbidden fruit was not apples, it was chestnuts. 
 I said I was innocent, then, for I had not eaten any 
 chestnuts. She said the Serpent informed her that 
 41 chestnut" was a figurative term meaning an aged 
 and mouldy joke. I turned pale at that, for I have 
 made many jokes to pass the weary time, and some 
 of them could have been of that sort, though I had 
 
268 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 honestly supposed that they were new when I made 
 them. She asked me if I had made one just at the 
 time of the catastrophe. I was obliged to admit that 
 I had made one to myself, though not aloud. It 
 was this. I was thinking about the Falls, and I said 
 to myself, " How wonderful it is to see that vast 
 body of water tumble down there! " Then in an 
 instant a bright thought flashed into my head, and I 
 let it fly, saying, " It would be a deal more wonderful 
 to see it tumble up there ! " and I was just about 
 to kill myself with laughing at it when all nature 
 broke loose in war and death and I had to flee for 
 my life. There," she said, with triumph, "that 
 is just it; the Serpent mentioned that very jest, and 
 called it the First Chestnut, and said it was coeval 
 with the creation." Alas, I am indeed to blame. 
 Would that I were not witty; oh, that I had never 
 had that radiant thought ! 
 
 NEXT YEAR. We have named it Cain. She 
 caught it while I was up country trapping on the 
 North Shore of the Erie; caught it in the timber a 
 couple of miles from our dug-out or it might have 
 been four, she isn t certain which. It resembles us 
 in some ways, and may be a relation. That is what 
 she thinks, but this is an error, in my judgment. 
 The difference in size warrants the conclusion that 
 it is a different and new kind of animal a fish, per 
 haps, though when I put it in the water to see, it 
 sank, and she plunged in and snatched it out before 
 there was opportunity for the experiment to deter- 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 269 
 
 mine the matter. I still think it is a fish, but she is 
 indifferent about what it is, and will not let me have 
 it to try. I do not understand this. The coming 
 of the creature seems to have changed her whole 
 nature and made her unreasonable about experi 
 ments. She thinks more of it than she does of any 
 of the other animals, but is not able to explain why. 
 Her mind is disordered everything shows it. 
 Sometimes she carries the fish in her arms half the 
 night when it complains and wants to get to the 
 water. At such times the water comes out of the 
 places in her face that she looks out of, and she pats 
 the fish on the back and makes soft sounds with her 
 mouth to soothe it, and betrays sorrow and solicitude 
 in a hundred ways. I have never seen her do like 
 this with any other fish, and it troubles me greatly. 
 She used to carry the young tigers around so, and 
 play with them, before we lost our property, but it 
 was only play ; she never took on about them like 
 this when their dinner disagreed with them. 
 
 SUNDAY. She doesn t work, Sundays, but lies 
 around all tired out, and likes to have the fish wallow 
 over her; and she makes fool noises to amuse it, 
 and pretends to chew its paws, and that makes it 
 laugh. I have not seen a fish before that could 
 laugh. This makes me doubt. ... I have come 
 to like Sunday myself. Superintending all the week 
 tires a body so. There ought to be more Sundays. 
 In the old days they were tough, but now they 
 come handy. 
 
270 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 WEDNESDAY. It isn t a fish. I cannot quite 
 make out what it is. It makes curious devilish 
 noises when not satisfied, and says "goo-goo" 
 when it is. It is not one of us, for it doesn t walk; 
 it is not a bird, for it doesn t fly; it is not a frog, 
 for it doesn t hop; it is not a snake, for it doesn t 
 crawl; I feel sure it is not a fish, though I cannot 
 get a chance to find out whether it can swim or not. 
 It merely lies around, and mostly on its back, with 
 its feet up. I have not seen any other animal do 
 that before. I said I believed it was an enigma ; but 
 she only admired the word without understanding it. 
 In my judgment it is either an enigma or some kind 
 of a bug. If it dies, I will take it apart and see what 
 its arrangements are. I never had a thing perplex 
 me so. 
 
 THREE MONTHS LATER. The perplexity aug 
 ments instead of diminishing. I sleep but little. It 
 has ceased from lying around, and goes about on its 
 four legs now. Yet it differs from the other four- 
 legged animals, in that its front legs are unusually 
 short, consequently this causes the main part of its 
 person to stick up uncomfortably high in the air, and 
 this is not attractive. It is built much as we are, 
 but its method of traveling shows that it is not of 
 our breed. The short front legs and long hind ones 
 indicate that it is of the kangaroo family, but it is a 
 marked variation of the species, since the true kan 
 garoo hops, whereas this one never does. Still it is 
 a curious and interesting variety, and has not been 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 271 
 
 catalogued before. As I discovered it, I have felt 
 justified in securing the credit of the discovery by 
 attaching my name to it, and hence have called it 
 Kangaroorum Adamiensis. ... It must have been 
 a young one when it came, for it has grown exceed 
 ingly since. It must be five times as big, now, as it 
 was then, and when discontented it is able to make 
 from twenty-two to thirty-eight times the noise it 
 made at first. Coercion does not modify this, but 
 has the contrary effect. For this reason I discon 
 tinued the system. She reconciles it by persuasion, 
 and by giving it things which she had previously told 
 it she wouldn t give it. As already observed, I was 
 not at home when it first came, and she told me she 
 found it in the woods. It seems odd that it should 
 be the only one, yet it must be so, for I have worn 
 myself out these many weeks trying to find another 
 one to add to my collection, and for this one to play 
 with; for surely then it would be quieter and we 
 could tame it more easily. But I find none, nor any 
 vestige of any; and strangest of all, no tracks. It 
 has to live on the ground, it cannot help itself; 
 therefore, how does it get about without leaving a 
 track? I have set a dozen traps, but they do no 
 good. I catch all small animals except that one; 
 animals that merely go into the trap out of curiosity, 
 I think, to see what the milk is there for. They 
 never drink it. 
 
 THREE MONTHS LATER. The Kangaroo still 
 continues to grow, which is very strange and per- 
 
272 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 plexing. I never knew one to be so long getting its 
 growth. It has fur on its head now; not like 
 kangaroo fur, but exactly like our hair except that 
 it is much finer and softer, and instead of being 
 black is red. I am like to lose my mind over the 
 capricious and harassing developments of this un- 
 classifiable zoological freak. If I could <catch 
 another one but that is hopeless; it is a new 
 variety, and the only sample; this is plain. But I 
 caught a true kangaroo and brought it in, thinking 
 that this one, being lonesome, would rather have 
 that for company than have no kin at all, or any 
 animal it could feel a nearness to or get sympathy 
 from in its forlorn condition here among strangers 
 who do not know its ways or habits, or what to do 
 to make it feel that it is among friends ; but it was 
 a mistake it went into such fits at the sight of the 
 kangaroo that I was convinced it had never seen one 
 before. I pity the poor noisy little animal, but there 
 is nothing I can do to make it happy. If I could 
 tame it but that is out of the question; the more 
 I try the worse I seem to make it. It grieves me to 
 the heart to see it in its little storms of sorrow and 
 passion. I wanted to let it go, but she wouldn t 
 hear of it. That seemed cruel and not like her ; and 
 yet she may be right. It might be lonelier than 
 ever; for since I cannot find another one, how could 
 it? 
 
 FIVE MONTHS LATER. It is not a kangaroo. 
 No, for it supports itself by holding to her finger, 
 
Extracts from Adam s Diary 273 
 
 and thus goes a few steps on its hind legs, and then 
 falls down. It is probably some kind of a bear; 
 and yet it has no tail as yet and no fur, except 
 on its head. It still keeps on growing that is a 
 curious circumstance, for bears get their growth 
 earlier than this. Bears are dangerous since our 
 catastrophe and I shall not be satisfied to have this 
 one prowling about the place much longer without a 
 muzzle on. I have offered to get her a kangaroo if 
 she would let this one go, but it did no good she 
 is determined to run us into all sorts of foolish risks, 
 I think. She was not like this before she lost her 
 mind. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT LATER. I examined its mouth. 
 There is no danger yet: it has only one tooth. It 
 has no tail yet. It makes more noise now than it 
 ever did before and mainly at night. I have 
 moved out. But I shall go over, mornings, to 
 breakfast, and see if it has more teeth. If it gets a 
 mouthful of teeth it will be time for it to go, tail or 
 no tail, for a bear does not need a tail in order to be 
 dangerous. 
 
 FOUR MONTHS LATER. I have been off hunting 
 and fishing a month, up in the region that she calls 
 Buffalo ; I don t know why, unless it is because there 
 are not any buffaloes there. Meantime the bear has 
 learned to paddle around all by itself on its hind 
 legs, and says "poppa" and "momma." It is 
 certainly a new species. This resemblance to words 
 may be purely accidental, of course ; and may have 
 
 18 
 
274 Extracts from Adam s Diary 
 
 no purpose or meaning ; but even in that case it is 
 still extraordinary, and is a thing which no other 
 bear can do. This imitation of speech, taken 
 together with general absence of fur and entire 
 absence of tail, sufficiently indicates that this is a 
 new kind of bear. The further study of it will be 
 exceedingly interesting. Meantime I will go off on 
 a far expedition among the forests of the north and 
 make an exhaustive search. There must certainly be 
 another one somewhere, and this one will be less 
 dangerous when it has company of its own species. 
 I will go straightway; but I will muzzle this one 
 first. 
 
 THREE MONTHS LATER, It has been a weary, 
 weary hunt, yet I have had no success. In the 
 meantime, without stirring from the home estate, she 
 has caught another one ! I never saw such luck. 
 I might have hunted these woods a hundred years, I 
 never would have run across that thing. 
 
 NEXT DAY. I have been comparing the new one 
 with the old one, and it is perfectly plain that they 
 are the same breed. I was going to stuff one of 
 them for my collection, but she is prejudiced against 
 it for some reason or other ; so I have relinquished 
 the idea, though I think it is a mistake. It would 
 be an irreparable loss to science if they should get 
 away. The old one is tamer than it was and can 
 laugh and talk like the parrot, having learned this, 
 no doubt, from being with the parrot so much, and 
 having the imitative faculty in a highly developed 
 
Hx tracts from Adam s Diary 275 
 
 degree. I shall be astonished if it turns out to be 
 a new kind of parrot; and yet I ought not to be 
 astonished, for it has already been everything else it 
 could think of since those first days when it was 
 a fish. The new one is as ugly now as the old one 
 was at first; has the same sulphur-and-raw-meat 
 complexion and the same singular head without any 
 fur on it. She calls it Abel. 
 
 TEN YEARS LATER. They are boys ; we found it 
 out long ago. It was their coming in that small, 
 immature shape that puzzled us ; we were not used 
 to it. There are some girls now. Abel is a good 
 boy, but if Cain had stayed a bear it would have 
 improved him. After all these years, I see that I 
 was mistaken about Eve in the beginning ; it is better 
 to live outside the Garden with her than inside it 
 without her. At first I thought she talked too 
 much ; but now I should be sorry to have that voice 
 fall silent and pass out of my life. Blessed be the 
 chestnut that brought us near together and taught 
 me to know the goodness of her heart and the sweet 
 ness of her spirit ! 
 
THE DEATH DISK* 
 
 THIS was in Oliver Cromwell s time. Colonel 
 Mayfair was the youngest officer of his rank 
 in the armies of the Commonwealth, he being but 
 thirty years old. But young as he was, he was a 
 veteran soldier, and tanned and warworn, for he 
 had begun his military life at seventeen; he had 
 fought in many battles, and had won his high place 
 in the service and in the admiration of men, step 
 by step, by valor in the field. But he was in deep 
 trouble now; a shadow had fallen upon his fortunes. 
 The winter evening was come, and outside were 
 storm and darkness; within, a melancholy silence ; 
 for the Colonel and his young wife had talked their 
 sorrow out, had read the evening chapter and prayed 
 the evening prayer, and there was nothing more to 
 do but sit hand in hand and gaze into the fire, and 
 think and wait. They would not have to wait 
 long; they knew that, and the wife shuddered at 
 the thought. 
 
 * The text for this story is a touching incident mentioned in Carlyle s 
 Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell. M. T. 
 
 (276) 
 
The Death Disk 277 
 
 They had one child Abby, seven years old, their 
 idol. She would be coming presently for the good 
 night kiss, and the Colonel spoke now, and said : 
 
 " Dry away the tears and let us seem happy, for 
 her sake. We must forget, for the time, that which 
 is to happen." 
 
 " I will. I will shut them up in my heart, which 
 is breaking." 
 
 " And we will accept what is appointed for us, 
 and bear it in patience, as knowing that whatsoever 
 He doeth is done in righteousness and meant in 
 kindness " 
 
 " Saying, His will be done. Yes, I can say it 
 with all my mind and soul I would I could say 
 it with my heart. Oh, if I could ! if this dear hand 
 which I press and kiss for the last time " 
 Sh! sweetheart, she is coming! " 
 
 A curly-headed little figure in nightclothes glided 
 in at the door and ran to the father, and was gathered 
 to his breast and fervently kissed once, twice, three 
 times. 
 
 "Why, papa, you mustn t kiss me like that: 
 you rumple my hair." 
 
 * Oh, I am so sorry so sorry: do you forgive 
 me, dear? " 
 
 4 Why, of course, papa. But are you sorry? 
 not pretending, but real, right down sorry? " 
 
 44 Well, you can judge for yourself, Abby," and 
 he covered his face with his hands and made believe 
 to sob. The child was filled with remorse to see this 
 19 
 
278 The Death Disk 
 
 tragic thing which she had caused, and she began to 
 cry herself, and to tug at the hands, and say : 
 
 * Oh, don t, papa, please don t cry; Abby didn t 
 mean it; Abby wouldn t ever do it again. Please, 
 papa ! Tugging and straining to separate the 
 fingers, she got a fleeting glimpse of an eye behind 
 them, and cried out: "Why, you naughty papa, 
 you are not crying at all ! You are only fooling ! 
 And Abby is going to mamma, now: you don t 
 treat Abby right." 
 
 She was for climbing down, but her father wound 
 his arms about her and said: "No, stay with me, 
 dear: papa was naughty, and confesses it, and is 
 sorry there, let him kiss the tears away and he 
 begs Abby s forgiveness, and will do anything Abby 
 says he must do, for a punishment; they re all 
 kissed away now, and not a curl rumpled and 
 whatever Abby commands 
 
 And so it was made up ; and all in a moment the 
 sunshine was back again and burning brightly in the 
 child s face, and she was patting her father s cheeks 
 and naming the penalty "A story ! a story ! 
 
 Hark! 
 
 The elders stopped breathing, and listened. Foot 
 steps ! faintly caught between the gusts of wind. 
 They came nearer, nearer louder, louder then 
 passed by and faded away. The elders drew deep 
 breaths of relief, and the papa said : * A story, is 
 it? A gay one? " 
 
 " No, papa: a dreadful one." 
 
The Death Disk 279 
 
 Papa wanted to shift to the gay kind, but the child 
 stood by her rights as per agreement, she was to 
 have anything she commanded. He was a good 
 Puritan soldier and had passed his word he saw 
 that he must make it good. She said : 
 
 " Papa, we mustn t always have gay ones. Nurse 
 says people don t always have gay times. Is that 
 true, papa? She says so." 
 
 The mamma sighed, and her thoughts drifted to 
 her troubles again. The papa said, gently: * It is 
 true, dear. Troubles have to come; it is a pity, 
 but it is true." 
 
 "Oh, then tell a story about them, papa a 
 dreadful one, so that we ll shiver, and feel just as if 
 it was us. Mamma, you snuggle up close, and hold 
 one of Abby s hands, so that if it s too dreadful it ll 
 be easier for us to bear it if we are all snuggled up 
 together, you know. Now you can begin, papa." 
 
 " Well, once there were three Colonels " 
 
 "Oh, goody! /know Colonels, just as easy! 
 It s because you are one, and I know the clothes. 
 Go on, papa." 
 
 4 And in a battle they had committed a breach of 
 discipline." 
 
 The large words struck the child s ear pleasantly, 
 and she looked up, full of wonder and interest, and 
 said: 
 
 44 Is it something good to eat, papa? " 
 
 The parents almost smiled, and the father 
 answered : 
 
280 The Death Disk 
 
 " No, quite another matter, dear. They ex 
 ceeded their orders." 
 
 "Is /tosometh " 
 
 "No; it s as uneatable as the other. They were 
 ordered to feign an attack on a strong position in a 
 losing fight, in order to draw the enemy about and 
 give the Commonwealth s forces a chance to retreat; 
 but in their enthusiasm they overstepped their 
 orders, for they turned the feint into a fact, and 
 carried the position by storm, and won the day and 
 the battle. The Lord General was very angry at 
 their disobedience, and praised them highly, and 
 ordered them to London to be tried for their lives." 
 
 "Is it the great General Cromwell, papa? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Oh, I ve seen him, papa! and when he goes by 
 our house so grand on his big horse, with the 
 soldiers, he looks so so well, I don t know just 
 how, only he looks as if he isn t satisfied, and you 
 can see the people are afraid of him; but Pm not 
 afraid of him, because he didn t look like that at 
 me." 
 
 "Oh, you dear prattler! Well, the Colonels 
 came prisoners to London, and were put upon their 
 honor, and allowed to go and see their families for 
 the last " 
 
 Hark! 
 
 They listened. Footsteps again; but again they 
 passed by. The mamma leaned her head upon her 
 husband s shoulder to hide her paleness. 
 
The Death Disk 281 
 
 " They arrived this morning." 
 
 The child s eyes opened wide. 
 
 14 Why, papa ! is it a true story? " 
 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 11 Oh, how good ! Oh, it s ever so much better! 
 Go on, papa. Why, mamma! dear mamma, are 
 you crying? " 
 
 " Never mind me, dear I was thinking of the 
 of the the poor families." 
 
 " But don t cry, mamma: it ll all come out right 
 you ll see; stones always do. Go on, papa, to 
 where they lived happy ever after; then she won t 
 cry any more. You ll see, mamma. Go on, papa." 
 
 " First, they took them to the Tower before they 
 let them go home." 
 
 "Oh, /know the Tower! We can see it from 
 here. Go on, papa." 
 
 " I am going on as well as I can, in the circum 
 stances. In the Tower the military court tried them 
 for an hour, and found them guilty, and condemned 
 them to be shot." 
 
 "Killed, papa?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Oh, how naughty ! Dear mamma,, you are cry 
 ing again. Don t, mamma; it ll soon come to the 
 good place you ll see. Hurry, papa, for mam 
 ma s sake; you don t go fast enough." 
 
 "I know I don t, but I suppose it is because I 
 stop so much to reflect." 
 
 " But you mustn t do it, papa; you must go right 
 
232 The Death Disk 
 
 44 Very well, then. The three Colonels " 
 
 44 Do you know them, papa? " 
 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 44 Oh, I wish I did! I love Colonels. Would 
 they let me kiss them, do you think?" The 
 Colonel s voice was a little unsteady when he 
 answered 
 
 44 One of them would, my darling! There- kiss 
 rne for him." 
 
 14 There, papa and these two are for the others. 
 I think they would let me kiss them, papa; for I 
 would say, 4 My papa is a Colonel, too, and brave, 
 and he would do what you did; so it can t be 
 wrong, no matter what those people say, and you 
 needn t be the least bit ashamed ; then they would 
 let me, wouldn t they, papa? " 
 
 " 4 God knows they would, child ! " 
 
 14 Mamma! oh, mamma, you mustn t. He s 
 soon coming to the happy place; go on, papa." 
 
 4 Then, some were sorry they all were; that 
 military court, I mean ; and they went to the Lord 
 General, and said they had done their duty for it 
 was their duty, you know and now they begged 
 that two of the Colonels might be spared, and only 
 the other one shot. One would be sufficient for an 
 example for the army, they thought. But the Lord 
 General was very stern, and rebuked them foras 
 much as, having done their duty and cleared their 
 consciences, they would beguile him to do less, and 
 so smirch his soldierly honor. But they answered 
 
The Death Disk 283 
 
 that they were asking nothing of him that they 
 would not do themselves if they stood in his great 
 place and held in their hands the noble prerogative 
 of mercy. That struck him, and he paused and 
 stood thinking, some of the sternness passing out of 
 his face. Presently he bid them wait, and he retired 
 to his closet to seek counsel of God in prayer ; and 
 when he came again, he said : They shall cast lots. 
 That shall decide it, and two of them shall live. " 
 
 " And did they, papa, did they? And which one 
 is to die? ah, that poor man! " 
 
 4 No. They refused." 
 
 " They wouldn t do it, papa? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 * * They said that the one that got the fatal bean 
 would be sentencing himself to death by his own 
 voluntary act, and it would be but suicide, call it by 
 what name one might. They said they were Chris 
 tians, and the Bible forbade men to take their own 
 lives. They sent back that word, and said they were 
 ready let the court s sentence be carried into effect. 
 
 41 What does that mean, papa? " 
 
 " They they will all be shot." 
 
 Hark! 
 
 The wind? No. Tramp tramp - tramp 
 r-r-r-umble-dumdum, r-r-rumble-dumdum 
 
 44 Open -in the Lord General s name ! " 
 
 44 Oh, goody r papa, it s the soldiers ! I love the 
 soldiers ! Let me let them in, papa, let me! " 
 
284 The Death Disk 
 
 She jumped down, and scampered to the door 
 and pulled it open, crying joyously: " Come in! 
 come in ! Here they are, papa ! Grenadiers ! / 
 know the Grenadiers ! 
 
 The file marched in and straightened up in line at 
 shoulder arms; its officer saluted, the doomed 
 Colonel standing erect and returning the courtesy, 
 the soldier wife standing at his side, white, and with 
 features drawn with inward pain, but giving no 
 other sign of her misery, the child gazing on the 
 show with dancing eyes. . . . 
 
 One long embrace, of father, mother, and child ; 
 then the order, " To the Tower forward!" 
 Then the Colonel marched forth from the house 
 with military step and bearing, the file following; 
 then the door closed. 
 
 "Oh, mamma, didn t it come out beautiful! I 
 told you it would; and they re going to the Tower, 
 and he ll see them! He" 
 
 " Oh, come to my arms, you poor innocent 
 thing!" 
 
 II 
 
 The next morning the stricken mother was not 
 able to leave her bed ; doctors and nurses were 
 watching by her, and whispering together now and 
 then ; Abby could not be allowed in the room ; she 
 was told to run and play mamma was very ill. 
 The child, muffled in winter wraps, went out and 
 played in the street awhile; then it struck her as 
 
The Death Disk 285 
 
 strange, and also wrong, that her papa should be 
 allowed to stay at the Tower in ignorance at such a 
 time as this. This must be remedied; she would 
 attend to it in person. 
 
 An hour later the military court were ushered into 
 the presence of the Lord General. He stood grim 
 and erect, with his knuckles resting upon the table, 
 and indicated that he was ready to listen. The 
 spokesman said : * We have urged them to recon 
 sider; we have implored them: but they persist. 
 They will not cast lots. They are willing to die, 
 but not to defile their religion." 
 
 The Protector s face darkened, but he said noth 
 ing. He remained a time in thought, then he said : 
 "They shall not all die; the lots shall be cast for 
 them." Gratitude shone in the faces of the court. 
 " Send for them. Place them in that room there. 
 Stand them side by side with their faces to the wall 
 and their wrists crossed behind them. Let me have 
 notice when they are there." 
 
 When he was alone he sat down, and presently 
 gave this order to an attendant: " Go, bring me the 
 first little child that passes by." 
 
 The man was hardly out at the door before he was 
 back again leading Abby by the hand, her gar 
 ments lightly powdered with snow. She went 
 straight to the Head of the State, that formidable 
 personage at the mention of whose name the princi 
 palities and powers of the earth trembled, and 
 climbed up in his lap, and said : 
 
286 The Death Disk 
 
 " I know you, sir: you are the Lord General; I 
 have seen you ; I have seen you when you went by 
 my house. Everybody was afraid; but / wasn t 
 afraid, because you didn t look cross at me; you 
 remember, don t you? I had on my red frock 
 the one with the blue things on it down the front. 
 Don t you remember that? " 
 
 A smile softened the austere lines of the Pro 
 tector s face, and he began to struggle diplomatically 
 with his answer: 
 
 "Why, let me see I " 
 
 " I was standing right by the house my house, 
 you know." 
 
 "Well, you dear little thing, I ought to be 
 ashamed, but you know " 
 
 The child interrupted, reproachfully: 
 
 "Now you don t remember it. Why, I didn t 
 forget you." 
 
 Now I am ashamed : but I will never forget you 
 again, dear; you have my word for it. You will 
 forgive me now, won t you, and be good friends 
 with me, always and forever? " 
 
 * Yes, indeed I will, though I don t know how 
 you came to forget it ; you must be very forgetful : 
 but I am too, sometimes. I can forgive you with 
 out any trouble, for I think you mean to be good 
 and do right, and I think you are just as kind but 
 you must snuggle me better, the way papa does 
 it s cold/ 
 
 "You shall be snuggled to your heart s content, 
 
The Death Disk 287 
 
 little new friend of mine, always to be old friend of 
 mine hereafter, isn t it? You mind me of my little 
 girl not little any more, now but she was dear, 
 and sweet, and daintily made, like you. And she 
 had your charm, little witch your all-conquering 
 sweet confidence in friend and stranger alike, that 
 wins to willing slavery any upon whom its precious 
 compliment falls. She used to lie in my arms, just 
 as you are doing now ; and charm the weariness and 
 care out of my heart and give it peace, just as 
 you are doing now; and we were comrades, and 
 equals, and playfellows together. Ages ago it 
 was, since that pleasant heaven faded away and 
 vanished, and you have brought it back again; 
 take a burdened man s blessing for it, you tiny 
 creature, who are carrying the weight of England 
 while I rest! " 
 
 44 Did you love her very, very, very much? " 
 "Ah, you shall judge by this: she commanded 
 and I obeyed!" 
 
 1 I think you are lovely ! Will you kiss me ? 
 "Thankfully and hold it a privilege, too. 
 There this one is for you; and there this one 
 is for her. You made it a request; and you could 
 have made it a command, for you are representing 
 her, and what you command I must obey." 
 
 The child clapped her hands with delight at the 
 idea of this grand promotion then her ear caught 
 an approaching sound: the measured tramp of 
 marching men. 
 
288 The Death Disk 
 
 "Soldiers! soldiers, Lord General! Abby 
 wants to see them ! 
 
 44 You shall, dear; but wait a moment, I have a 
 commission for you." 
 
 An officer entered and bowed low, saying, " They 
 are come, your Highness," bowed again, and retired. 
 
 The Head of the Nation gave Abby three little 
 disks of sealing-wax: two white, and one a ruddy 
 red for this one s mission was to deliver death to 
 the Colonel who should get it. 
 
 <4 Oh, what a lovely red one ! Are they for me? " 
 
 44 No, dear; they are for others. Lift the corner 
 of that curtain, there, which hides an open door; 
 pass through, and you will see three men standing 
 in a row, with their backs toward you and their 
 hands behind their backs so each with one hand 
 open, like a cup. Into each of the open hands drop 
 one of those things, then come back to me." 
 
 Abby disappeared behind the curtain, and the 
 Protector was alone. He said, reverently: <4 Of a 
 surety that good thought came to me in my per 
 plexity from Him who is an ever present help to 
 them that are in doubt and seek His aid. He 
 knoweth where the choice should fall, and has sent 
 His sinless messenger to do His will. Another 
 would err, but He cannot err. Wonderful are His 
 ways, and wise blessed be His holy Name! " 
 
 The small fairy dropped the curtain behind her 
 and stood for a moment conning with alert curiosity 
 the appointments of the chamber of doom, and the 
 
The Death Disk 289 
 
 rigid figures of the soldiery and the prisoners ; then 
 her face lighted merrily, and she said to herself: 
 1 Why, one of them is papa ! I know his back. 
 He shall have the prettiest one ! She tripped 
 gayly forward and dropped the disks into the open 
 hands, then peeped around under her father s arm 
 and lifted her laughing face and cried out : 
 
 Papa! papa! look what you ve got. /gave it 
 to you! " 
 
 He glanced at the fatal gift, then sunk to his 
 knees and gathered his innocent little executioner to 
 his breast in an agony of love and pity. Soldiers, 
 officers, released prisoners, all stood paralyzed, for 
 a moment, at the vastness of this tragedy, then the 
 pitiful scene smote their hearts, their eyes filled, and 
 they wept unashamed. There was deep and rever 
 ent silence during some minutes, then the officer of 
 the guard moved reluctantly forward and touched 
 his prisoner on the shoulder, saying, gently: 
 
 " It grieves me, sir, but my duty commands." 
 
 14 Commands what? " said the child. 
 
 44 I must take him away. I am so sorry." 
 
 4 Take him away ? Where ? 
 
 4 4 To to God help me ! to another part of 
 the fortress." 
 
 "Indeed you can t. My mamma is sick, and I 
 am going to take him home." She released herself 
 and climbed upon her father s back and put her 
 arms around his neck. 4< Now Abby s ready, papa 
 come along." 
 
 10 
 
290 The Death Disk 
 
 " My poor child, I can t. I must go with them." 
 
 The child jumped to the ground and looked about 
 her, wondering. Then she ran and stood before the 
 officer and stamped her small foot indignantly and 
 cried out: 
 
 " I told you my mamma is sick, and you might 
 have listened. Let him go you must / 
 
 " Oh, poor child, would God I could, but indeed 
 I must take him away. Attention, guard ! . . . . 
 fall in ! .... shoulder arms !".... 
 
 Abby was gone like a flash of light. In a 
 moment she was back, dragging the Lord Protector 
 by the hand. At this formidable apparition all 
 present straightened up, the officers saluting and the 
 soldiers presenting arms. 
 
 " Stop them, sir! My mamma is sick and wants 
 my papa, and I told them so, but they never even 
 listened to me, and are taking him away." 
 
 The Lord General stood as one dazed, 
 * Your papa, child? Is he your papa? " 
 
 "Why, of course he was always it. Would I 
 give the pretty red one to any other, when I love 
 him so? No ! " 
 
 A shocked expression rose in the Protector s face, 
 and he said : 
 
 " Ah, God help me ! through Satan s wiles I have 
 done the cruelest thing that ever man did and 
 there is no help, no help ! What can I do? " 
 
 Abby cried out, distressed and impatient: " Why, 
 you can make them let him go," and she began to 
 
The Death Disk 291 
 
 sob. "Tell them to do it! You told me to com 
 mand, and now the very first time I tell you to do a 
 thing you don t do it! " 
 
 A tender light dawned in the rugged old face, and 
 the Lord General laid his hand upon the small 
 tyrant s head and said: "God be thanked for the 
 saving accident of that unthinking promise; and 
 you, inspired by Him, for reminding me of my for 
 gotten pledge, O incomparable child ! Officer, 
 obey her command she speaks by my mouth. 
 The prisoner is pardoned ; set him free ! 
 
WE OUGHT NEVER TO DO WRONG WHEN 
 PEOPLE ARE LOOKING 
 
A DOUBLE-BARRELED DETECTIVE 
 STORY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE first scene is in the country, in Virginia; the 
 time, 1880. There has been a wedding, be 
 tween a handsome young man of slender means and 
 a rich young girl a case of love at first sight and a 
 precipitate marriage ; a marriage bitterly opposed by 
 the girl s widowed father. 
 
 Jacob Fuller, the bridegroom, is twenty-six years 
 old, is of an old but unconsidered family which had 
 by compulsion emigrated from Sedgemoor, and for 
 King James s purse s profit, so everybody said 
 some maliciously, the rest merely because they be 
 lieved it. The bride is nineteen and beautiful. She 
 is intense, high-strung, romantic, immeasurably 
 proud of her Cavalier blood, and passionate in her 
 love for her young husband. For its sake she 
 braved her father s displeasure, endured his re 
 proaches, listened with loyalty unshaken to his warn 
 ing predictions, and went from his house without his 
 19 (293) 
 
294 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 blessing, proud and happy in the proofs she was 
 thus giving of the quality of the affection which had 
 made its home in her heart. 
 
 The morning after the marriage there was a sad 
 surprise for her. Her husband put aside her prof 
 fered caresses, and said : 
 
 11 Sit down. I have something to say to you. I 
 loved you. That was before I asked your father to 
 give you to me. His refusal is not my grievance 
 I could have endured that. But the things he said 
 of me to you that is a different matter. There 
 you needn t speak; I know quite well what they 
 were; I got them from authentic sources. Among 
 other things he said that my character was written in 
 my face; that I was treacherous, a dissembler, a 
 coward, and a brute without sense of pity or com 
 passion : the Sedgemoor trade-mark, he called it 
 and white-sleeve badge. Any other man in my 
 place would have gone to his house and shot him 
 down like a dog. I wanted to do it, and was minded 
 to do it, but a better thought came to me : to put him 
 to shame; to break his heart; to kill him by inches. 
 How to do it? Through my treatment of you, his 
 idol ! I would marry you ; and then Have 
 patience. You will see." 
 
 From that moment onward, for three months, the 
 young wife suffered all the humiliations, all the in 
 sults, all the miseries that the diligent and inventive 
 mind of the husband could contrive, save physical 
 injuries only. Her strong pride stood by her, and 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 295 
 
 she kept the secret of her troubles. Now and then 
 the husband said, "Why don t you go to your 
 father and tell him ? Then he invented new tor 
 tures, applied them, and asked again. She always 
 answered, "He shall never know by my mouth," 
 and taunted him with his origin; said she was the 
 lawful slave of a scion of slaves, and must obey, and 
 would up to that point, but no further; he could 
 kill her if he liked, but he could not break her; it 
 was not in the Sedgemoor breed to do it. At the 
 end of the three months he said, with a dark signifi 
 cance in his manner, 4 I have tried all things but 
 one" and waited for her reply. * Try that," 
 she said, and curled her lip in mockery. 
 
 That night he rose at midnight and put on his 
 clothes, then said to her, 
 
 " Get up and dress ! " 
 
 She obeyed as always, without a word. He 
 led her half a mile from the house, and proceeded to 
 lash her to a tree by the side of the public road ; 
 and succeeded, she screaming and struggling. He 
 gagged her then, struck her across the face with his 
 cowhide, and set his bloodhounds on her. They 
 tore the clothes off her, and she was naked. He 
 called the dogs off, and said : 
 
 "You will be found by the passing public. 
 They will be dropping along about three hours 
 from now, and will spread the news do you hear? 
 Good-by. You have seen the last of me." 
 
 He went away then. She moaned to herself: 
 
296 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 " I shall bear a child to him! God grant it 
 may be a boy! " 
 
 The farmers released her by and by and spread 
 the news, which was natural. They raised the 
 country with lynching intentions, but the bird had 
 flown. The young wife shut herself up in her 
 father s house; he shut himself up with her, and 
 thenceforth would see no one. His pride was 
 broken, and his heart; so he wasted away, day by 
 day, and even his daughter rejoiced when death re 
 lieved him. 
 
 Then she sold the estate and disappeared. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN 1886 a young woman was living in a modest 
 house near a secluded New England village, with 
 no company but a little boy about five years old. 
 She did her own work, she discouraged acquaint 
 anceships, and had none. The butcher, the baker, 
 and the others that served her could tell the villagers 
 nothing about her further than that her name was 
 Stillman, and that she called the child Archy. 
 Whence she came they had not been able to find 
 out, but they said she talked like a Southerner. 
 The child had no playmates and no comrade, and 
 no teacher but the mother. She taught him dili 
 gently and intelligently, and was satisfied with the 
 results even a little proud of them. One day 
 Archy said, 
 
 14 Mamma, am I different from other children? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose not. Why? " 
 There was a child going along out there and 
 asked me if the postman had been by and I said yes, 
 and she said how long since I saw him and I said I 
 hadn t seen him at all, and she said how did I know 
 he d been by, then, and I said because I smelt his 
 track on the sidewalk, and she said I was a dum 
 
 (297) 
 
298 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 fool and made a mouth at me. What did she do 
 that for?" 
 
 The young woman turned white, and said to her 
 self, "It s a birthmark! The gift of the blood 
 hound is in him." She snatched the boy to her 
 breast and hugged him passionately, saying, "God 
 has appointed the way! " Her eyes were burning 
 with a fierce light and her breath came short and 
 quick with excitement. She said to herself: "The 
 puzzle is solved now; many a time it has been a 
 mystery to me, the impossible things the child has 
 done in the dark, but it is all clear to me now." 
 She set him in his small chair, and said, 
 " Wait a little till I come, dear; then we will talk 
 about the matter." 
 
 She went up to her room and took from her 
 dressing-table several small articles and put them 
 out of sight: a nail- file on the floor under the bed; 
 a pair of nail-scissors under the bureau ; a small 
 ivory paper-knife under the wardrobe. Then she 
 returned, and said: 
 
 1 There ! I have left some things which I ought 
 to have brought down." She named them, and 
 said, " Run up and bring them, dear." 
 
 The child hurried away on his errand and was soon 
 back again with the things. 
 
 " Did you have any difficulty, dear? " 
 " No, mamma; 1 only went where you went." 
 During his absence she had stepped to the book 
 case, taken several books from the bottom shelf, 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 299 
 
 opened each, passed her hand over a page, noting its 
 number in her memory, then restored them to their 
 places. Now she said : 
 
 " I have been doing something while you have 
 been gone, Archy. Do you think you can find out 
 what it was ? 
 
 The boy went to the bookcase and got out the 
 books that had been touched, and opened them at 
 the pages which had been stroked. 
 
 The mother took him in her lap, and said: 
 
 " I will answer your question now, dear. I have 
 found out that in one way you are quite different 
 from other people. You can see in the dark, you 
 can smell what other people cannot, you have the 
 talents of a bloodhound. They are good and valu 
 able things to have, but you must keep the matter a 
 secret. If people found it out, they would speak of 
 you as an odd child, a strange child, and children 
 would be disagreeable to you, and give you nick 
 names. In this world one must be like everybody 
 else if he doesn t want to provoke scorn or envy or 
 jealousy. It is a great and fine distinction which 
 has been born to you, and I am glad; but you will 
 keep it a secret, for mamma s sake, won t you? " 
 
 The child promised, without understanding. 
 
 All the rest of the day the mother s brain was 
 busy with excited thinkings; with plans, projects, 
 schemes, each and all of them uncanny, grim, and 
 dark. Yet they lit up her face ; lit it with a fell 
 light of their own; lit it with vague fires of hell. 
 
300 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 She was in a fever of unrest; she could not sit, 
 stand, read, sew; there was no relief for her but in 
 movement. She tested her boy s gift in twenty 
 ways, and kept saying to herself all the time, with 
 her mind in the past: "He broke my father s 
 heart, and night and day all these years I have tried, 
 and all in vain, to think out a way to break his. I 
 have found it now I have found it now." 
 
 When night fell, the demon of unrest still possessed 
 her. She went on with her tests ; with a candle she 
 traversed the house from garret to cellar, hiding pins, 
 needles, thimbles, spools, under pillows, under 
 carpets, in cracks in the walls, under the coal in the 
 bin; then sent the little fellow in the dark to find 
 them; which he did, and was happy and proud when 
 she praised him and smothered him with caresses. 
 
 From this time forward life took on a new com 
 plexion for her. She said, " The future is secure 
 I can wait, and enjoy the waiting." The most of 
 her lost interests revived. She took up music again, 
 and languages, drawing, painting, and the other long- 
 discarded delights of her maidenhood. She was 
 happy once more, and felt again the zest of life. 
 As the years drifted by she watched the develop 
 ment of her boy, and was contented with it. Not 
 altogether, but nearly that. The soft side of his 
 heart was larger than the other side of it. It was 
 his only defect, in her eyes. But she considered 
 that his love for her and worship of her made up for 
 it. He was a good hater that was well; but it 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 301 
 
 was a question if the materials of his hatreds were of 
 as tough and enduring a quality as those of his 
 friendships and that was not so well. 
 
 The years drifted on. Archy was become a hand 
 some, shapely, athletic youth, courteous, dignified, 
 companionable, pleasant in his ways, and looking 
 perhaps a trifle older than he was, which was sixteen. 
 One evening his mother said she had something of 
 grave importance to say to him, adding that he was 
 old enough to hear it now, and old enough and pos 
 sessed of character enough and stability enough to 
 carry out a stern plan which she had been for years 
 contriving and maturing. Then she told him her 
 bitter story, in all its naked atrociousness. For a 
 while the boy was paralyzed ; then he said : 
 
 "I understand. We are Southerners; and by 
 our custom and nature there is but one atonement. 
 I will search him out and kill him." 
 
 44 Kill him? No! Death is release, emancipa 
 tion; death is a favor. Do I owe him favors? You 
 must not hurt a hair of his head." 
 
 The boy was lost in thought awhile ; then he said : 
 
 44 You are all the world to me, and your desire is 
 my law and my pleasure. Tell me what to do and 
 I will do it." 
 
 The mother s eyes beamed with satisfaction, and 
 she said: 
 
 44 You will go and find him. I have known his 
 hiding-place for eleven years ; it cost me five years 
 and more of inquiry, and much money, to locate it. 
 
302 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 He is a quartz-miner in Colorado, and well-to-do. 
 He lives in Denver. His name is Jacob Fuller. 
 There it is the first time I have spoken it since 
 that unforgettable night. Think ! That name could 
 have been yours if I had not saved you that shame 
 and furnished you a cleaner one. You will drive 
 him from that place ; you will hunt him down and 
 drive him again; and yet again, and again, and 
 again, persistently, relentlessly, poisoning his life, 
 filling it with mysterious terrors, loading it with 
 weariness and misery, making him wish for death, 
 and that he had a suicide s courage; you will make 
 of him another wandering Jew; he shall know no 
 rest any more, no peace of mind, no placid sleep; 
 you shall shadow him, cling to him, persecute him, 
 till you break his heart, as he broke my father s and 
 mine." 
 
 "I will obey, mother." 
 
 * I believe it, my child. The preparations are all 
 made; everything is ready. Here is a letter of 
 credit; spend freely, there is no lack of money. 
 At times you may need disguises. I have provided 
 them; also some other conveniences." She took 
 from the drawer of the typewriter table several 
 squares of paper. They all bore these typewritten 
 
 words : 
 
 $10,000 REWARD. 
 
 It is believed that a certain man who is wanted in an Eastern State 
 is sojourning here. In 1880, in the night, he tied his young wife to a 
 tree by the public road, cut her across the face with a cowhide, and 
 made bis dogs tear her clothes from her, leaving her naked. He left 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 303 
 
 her there, and fled the country. A blood-relative of hers has searched 
 
 for him for seventeen years. Address , , Post-office. 
 
 The above reward will be paid in cash to the person who will furnish 
 the seeker, in a personal interview, the criminal s address. 
 
 " When you have found him and acquainted your 
 self with his scent, you will go in the night and 
 placard one of these upon the building he occupies, 
 and another one upon the post-office or in some 
 other prominent place. It will be the talk of the 
 region. At first you must give him several days in 
 which to force a sale of his belongings at something 
 approaching their value. We will ruin him by and 
 by, but gradually ; we must not impoverish him at 
 once, for that could bring him to despair and injure 
 his health, possibly kill him." 
 
 She took three or four more typewritten forms 
 from the drawer duplicates and read one : 
 
 , , 18 
 
 To Jacob Fuller : 
 
 You have days in which to settle your affairs. You will not 
 
 be disturbed during that limit, which will expire at M., on the 
 
 of You must then MOVE ON. If you are still in the 
 
 place after the named hour, I will placard you on all the dead walls, 
 detailing your crime once more, and adding the date, also the scene of 
 it, with all names concerned, including your own. Have no fear of 
 bodily injury it will in no circumstances ever be inflicted upon you. 
 You brought misery upon an old man, and ruined his life and broke his 
 heart. What he suffered, you are to suffer. 
 
 You will add no signature. He must receive 
 this before he learns of the reward placard before 
 he rises in the morning lest he lose his head and 
 fly the place penniless." 
 "I shall not forget." 
 
304 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 " You will need to use these forms only in the be 
 ginning once may be enough. Afterward, when 
 you are ready for him to vanish out of a place, see 
 that he gets a copy of this form, which merely says: 
 
 MOVE ON. You have days. 
 
 " He will obey. That is sure/ 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 R-XTRACTS from letters to the mother: 
 
 DENVER, April 3, 1897. 
 
 I have now been living several days in the same hotel with Jacob 
 Fuller. I have his scent; I could track him through ten divisions 
 of infantry and find him. I have often been near him and heard him 
 talk. He owns a good mine, and has a fair income from it; but he is 
 not rich. He learned mining in a good way by working at it for 
 wages. He is a cheerful creature, and his forty-three years sit lightly 
 upon him; he could pass for a younger man say thirty-six or thirty- 
 seven. He has never married again passes himself off for a widower. 
 He stands well, is liked, is popular, and has many friends. Even I feel 
 a drawing toward him the paternal blood in me making its claim. 
 How blind and unreasoning and arbitrary are some of the laws of nature 
 the most of them, in fact! My task is become hard now you 
 realize it? you comprehend, and make allowances? and the fire of it 
 has cooled, more than I like to confess to myself. But I will carry it 
 out. Even with the pleasure paled, the duty remains, and I will 
 not spare him. 
 
 And for my help, a sharp resentment rises in me when I reflect that 
 he who committed that odious crime is the only one who has not 
 suffered by it. The lesson of it has manifestly reformed his character, 
 and in the change he is happy. He, the guilty party, is absolved from 
 all suffering; you, the innocent, are borne down with it. But be com 
 forted he shall harvest his share. 
 
 SILVER GULCH, May 19. 
 
 I placarded Form No. I at midnight of April 3; an hour later I 
 dipped Form No. 2 under his chamber door, notifying him to leave 
 Denver at or before 1 1.50 the night of the I4th. 
 
 (305) 
 
306 A Doubie-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 Some late bird of a reporter stole one of my placards, then hunted the 
 town over and found the other one, and stole that. In this manner he 
 accomplished what the profession call a "scoop" that is, he got 
 a valuable item, and saw to it that no other paper got it. And so his 
 paper the principal one in the town had it in glaring type on the 
 editorial page in the morning, followed by a Vesuvian opinion of our 
 wretch a column long, which wound up by adding a thousand dollars to 
 our reward on the paper s account ! The journals out here know how 
 to do the noble thing when there s business in it. 
 
 At breakfast IjDccupied my usual seat selected because it afforded 
 a view of papa Fuller s face, and was near enough for me to hear the 
 talk that went on at his table. Seventy-five or a hundred people were 
 in the room, and all discussing that item, and saying they hoped the 
 seeker would find that rascal and remove the pollution of his presence 
 from the town with a rail, or a bullet, or something. 
 
 When Fuller came in he had the Notice to Leave folded up in one 
 hand, and the newspaper in the other; and it gave me more than half 
 a pang to see him. His cheerfulness was all gone, and he looked old 
 and pinched and ashy. And then only think of the things he had to 
 listen to ! Mamma, he heard his own unsuspecting friends describe him 
 with epithets and characterizations drawn from the very dictionaries and 
 phrase-books of Satan s own authorized editions down below. And 
 more than that, he had to agree with the verdicts and applaud them. 
 His applause tasted bitter in his mouth, though; he could not disguise 
 that from me; and it was observable that his appetite was gone; he 
 only nibbled; he couldn t eat. Finally a man said : 
 
 "It is quite likely that that relative is in the room and hearing what 
 this town thinks of that unspeakable scoundrel. I hope so." 
 
 Ah, dear, it was pitiful the way Fuller winced, and glanced around 
 scared ! He couldn t endure any more, and got up and left. 
 
 During several days he gave out that he had bought a mine in Mexico, 
 and wanted to sell out and go down there as soon as he could, and give 
 the property his personal attention. He played his cards well; said he 
 would take $40,000 a quarter in cash, the rest in safe notes; but that 
 as he greatly needed money on account of his new purchase, he would 
 diminish his terms for cash in full. He sold out for $30,000. And 
 then, what do you think he did? He asked for greenbacks, and took 
 them, saying the man in Mexico was a New-Englander, with a head 
 full of crotchets, and preferred greenbacks to gold or drafts. People 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 307 
 
 thought it queer, since a draft on New York could produce greenbacks 
 quite conveniently. There was talk of this odd thing, but only for a 
 day; that is as long as any topic lasts in Denver. 
 
 I was watching, all the time. As soon as the sale was completed and 
 the money paid which was on the nth I began to stick to Fuller s 
 track without dropping it for a moment. That night no, I2th, for it 
 was a little past midnight I tracked him to his room, which was four 
 doors from mine in the same hall; then I went back and put on my 
 muddy day-laborer disguise, darkened my complexion, and sat down 
 in my room in the gloom, with a gripsack handy, with a change in it, 
 and my door ajar. Yor I suspected that the bird would take wing now. 
 In half an hour an old woman passed by, carrying a grip : I caught the 
 familiar whiff, and followed with my grip, for it was Fuller. He left 
 the hotel by a side entrance, and at the corner he turned up an unfre 
 quented street and walked three blocks in a light rain and a heavy dark 
 ness, and got into a two-horse hack, which of course was waiting for 
 him by appointment. I took a seat (uninvited) on the trunk platform 
 behind, and we drove briskly off. We drove ten miles, and the hack 
 stopped at a way-station and was discharged. Fuller got out and took 
 a seat on a barrow under the awning, as far as he could get from the 
 light; I went inside, and watched the ticket-office. Fuller bought no 
 ticket; I bought none. Presently the train came along, and he boarded 
 a car; I entered the same car at the other end, and came down the aisle 
 and took the seat behind him. When he paid the conductor and named 
 his objective point, I dropped back several seats, while the conductor 
 was changing a bill, and when he came to me I paid to the same place 
 about a hundred miles westward. 
 
 From that time for a week on end he led me a dance. He traveled 
 here and there and yonder always on a general westward trend 
 but he was not a woman after the first day. He was a laborer, like my 
 self, and wore bushy false whiskers. His outfit was perfect, and he 
 could do the character without thinking about it, for he had served the 
 trade for wages. His nearest friend could not have recognized him. 
 At last he located himself here, the obscurest little mountain camp in 
 Montana; he has a shanty, and goes out prospecting daily; is gone all 
 day, and avoids society. I am living at a miner s boarding-house, and 
 it is an awful place : the bunks, the food, the dirt everything. 
 
 We have been here four weeks, and in that time I have seen him but , 
 once; but every night I go over his track and post myself. As soon as 
 
308 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 he engaged a shanty here I went to a town fifty miles away and tele 
 graphed that Denver hotel to keep my baggage till I should send for it. 
 I need nothing here but a change of army shirts, and I brought that 
 with me. 
 
 SILVER GULCH, June 12. 
 
 The Denver episode has never found its way here, I think. I know 
 the most of the men in camp, and they have never referred to it, at least 
 in my hearing. Fuller doubtless feels quite safe in these conditions* 
 He has located a claim, two miles away, in an out-of-the-way place in 
 the mountains; it promises very well, and he is working it diligently. 
 Ah, but the change in him ! He never smiles, and he keeps quite 
 to himself, consorting with no one he who was so fond of company 
 and so cheery only two months ago. I have seen him passing along 
 several times recently drooping, forlorn, the spring gone from his 
 step, a pathetic figure. He calls himself David Wilson. 
 
 I can trust him to remain here until we disturb him. Since you 
 insist, I will banish him again, but I do not see how he can be unhap- 
 pier than he already is. I will go back to Denver and treat myself to a 
 little season of comfort, and edible food, and endurable beds, and bodily 
 decency; then I will fetch my things, and notify poor papa Wilson 
 to move on. 
 
 DENVER, June 19. 
 
 They miss him here. They all hope he is prospering in Mexico, and 
 they do not say it just with their mouths, but out of their hearts. You 
 know you can always tell. I am loitering here overlong, I confess it. 
 But if you were in my place you would have charity for me. Yes, 
 I know what you will say, and you are right : if I were in your place, 
 and carried your scalding memories in my heart 
 
 I will take the night train back to-morrow. 
 
 DENVER, June 20. 
 
 God forgive us, mother, we are hunting the wrong man ! I have 
 not slept any all night. I am now waiting, at dawn, for the morning 
 train and how the minutes drag, how they drag ! 
 
 This Jacob Fuller is a cousin of the guilty one. How stupid we 
 have been not to reflect that the guilty one would never again wear his 
 own name after that fiendish deed ! The Denver Fuller is four years 
 younger than the other one; he came here a young widower in 79, 
 aged twenty-one a year before you were married; and the documents 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 309 
 
 to prove it are innumerable. Last night I talked with familiar friends 
 of his who have known him from the day of his arrival. I said nothing, 
 but a few days from now I will land him in this town again, with the 
 loss upon his mine made good; and there will be a banquet, and a 
 torch-light procession, and there will not be any expense on anybody 
 but me. Do you call this "gush" ? I am only a boy, as you well 
 know; it is my privilege. By and by I shall not be a boy any more. 
 
 SILVER GULCH, July 3. 
 
 Mother, he is gone ! Gone, and left no trace. The scent was cold 
 when I came. To-day I am out of bed for the first time since. I wish 
 I were not a boy; then I could stand shocks better. They all think he 
 went west. I start to-night, in a wagon two or three hours of that, 
 then I get a train. I don t know where I m going, but I must go; to 
 try to keep still would be torture. 
 
 Of course he has effaced himself with a new name and a disguise. 
 This means that / may have to search the whole globe to find him. In 
 deed it is what I expect. Do you see, mother? It is /that am the 
 Wandering Jew. The irony of it ! We arranged that for another. 
 
 Think of the difficulties ! And there would be none if I only could 
 advertise for him. But if there is any way to do it that would not 
 frighten him, I have not been able to think it out, and I have tried till 
 my brains are addled. " If the gentleman who lately bought a mine in 
 Mexico and sold one in Denver will send his address to" (to whom, 
 mother!), " it will be explained to him that it was all a mistake; his 
 forgiveness will be asked, and full reparation made for a loss which he 
 sustained in a certain matter." Do you see? He would think it a 
 trap. Well, any one would. If I should say, " It is now known that 
 he was not the man wanted, but another man a man who once bore 
 the same name, but discarded it for good reasons would that 
 answer? But the Denver people would wake up then and say " Oho ! " 
 and they would remember about the suspicious greenbacks, and say, 
 " Why did he run away if he wasn t the right man? it is too thin." 
 If I failed to find him he would be ruined there there where there is 
 no taint upon him now. You have a better head than mine. Help me. 
 
 I have one clew, and only one. I know his handwriting. If he puts 
 his new false name upon a hotel register and does not disguise it too 
 much, it will be valuable to me if I ever run across it. 
 
310 A Double- Barreled Detective Story 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO, June 28, 1898. 
 
 You already know how well I have searched the States from Colorado 
 to the Pacific, and how nearly I came to getting him once. Well, I 
 have had another close miss. It was here, yesterday. I struck his 
 trail, hot, on the street, and followed it on a run to a cheap hotel. That 
 was a costly mistake; a dog would have gone the other way. But 
 I am only part dog, and can get very humanly stupid when excited. 
 He had been stopping in that house ten days; I almost know, now, 
 that he stops long nowhere, the past six or eight months, but is rest 
 less and has to keep moving. I understand that feeling ! and I know 
 what it is to feel it. He still uses the name he had registered when 
 I came so near catching him nine months ago "James Walker"; 
 doubtless the same he adopted when he fled from Silver Gulch. An 
 unpretending man, and has small taste for fancy names. I recognized 
 the hand easily, through its slight disguise. A square man, and not 
 good at shams and pretenses. 
 
 They said he was just gone, on a journey; left no address; didn t 
 say where he was going; looked frightened when asked to leave his 
 address; had no baggage but a cheap valise; carried it off on foot a 
 "stingy old person, and not much loss [to the house." " Old!" I 
 suppose he is, now. I hardly heard; I was there but a moment. I 
 rushed along his trail, and it led me to a wharf. Mother, the smoke of 
 the steamer he had taken was just fading out on the horizon ! I should 
 have saved half an hour if I had gone in the right direction at first. I 
 could have taken a fast tug, and should have stood a chance of catching 
 that vessel. She is bound for Melbourne. 
 
 HOPE CANYON, CALIFORNIA, October 3, 1900. 
 
 You have a right to complain. "A letter a year" is a paucity; I 
 freely acknowledge it; but how can one write when there is nothing to 
 write about but failures? No one can keep it up; it breaks the heart. 
 
 I told you it seems ages ago, now how I missed him at Mel 
 bourne, and then chased him all over Australasia for months on end. 
 
 Well, then, after that I followed him to India; almost saw him in 
 Bombay; traced him all around to Baroda, Rawal-Pindi, Lucknow, 
 Lahore, Cawnpore, Allahabad, Calcutta, Madras -oh, everywhere; 
 week after week, month after month, through the dust and swelter 
 always approximately on his track, sometimes close upon him, yet never 
 catching him. And down to Ceylon, and then to Never mind; 
 by and by I will write it all out 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 311 
 
 I chased him home to California, and down to Mexico, and back 
 again to California. Since then I have been hunting him about the 
 State from the first of last January down to a month ago. I feel almost 
 sure he is not far from Hope Canyon; I traced him to a point thirty 
 miles from here, but there I lost the trail; some one gave him a lift in a 
 wagon, I suppose. 
 
 I am taking a rest, now modified by searchings for the lost trail. I 
 was tired to death, mother, and low-spirited, and sometimes coming un 
 comfortably near to losing hope; but the miners in this little camp are 
 good fellows, and I am used to their sort this long time back; and their 
 breezy ways freshen a person up and make him forget his troubles. I 
 have been here a month. I am cabining with a young fellow named 
 "Sammy" Hillyer, about twenty-five, the only son of his mother 
 like me and loves her dearly, and writes to her every week part of 
 which is like me. He is a timid body, and in the matter of intellect 
 well, he cannot be depended upon to set a river on fire; but no matter, he 
 is well liked; he is good and fine, and it is meat and bread and rest and 
 luxury to sit and talk with him and have a comradeship again. I wish 
 "James Walker" could have it. He had friends; he liked company. 
 That brings up that picture of him, the time that I saw him last. The 
 pathos of it ! It comes before me often and often. At that very time, 
 poor thing, I was girding up my conscience to make him move on again ! 
 Hillyer s heart is belter than mine, better than anybody s in the com 
 munity, I suppose, for he is the one friend of the black sheep of the 
 camp Flint Buckner and the only man Flint ever talks with or 
 allows to talk with him. He says he knows Flint s history, and that it 
 is trouble that has made him what he is, and so one ought to be as chari 
 table toward him as one can. Now none but a pretty large heart could 
 find space to accommodate a lodger like Flint Buckner, from all I hear 
 about him outside. I think that this one detail will give you a better 
 idea of Sammy s character than any labored-out description I could 
 furnish you of him. In one of our talks he said something about like 
 this: " Flint is a kinsman of mine, and he pours out all his troubles to 
 me empties his breast from time to time, or I reckon it would burst. 
 There couldn t be any unhappier man, Archy Stillman; his life has 
 been made up of misery of mind he isn t near as old as he looks. 
 He has lost the feel of reposefulness and peace oh, years and years 
 ago! He doesn t know what good luck is never has had any; often 
 says he wishes he was in the other hell, he is so tired of thi* one," 
 T 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 No real gentleman will tell the naked truth in the presence of ladies 
 
 IT was a crisp and spicy morning in early October. 
 The lilacs and laburnums, lit with the glory-fires 
 of autumn, hung burning and flashing in the upper 
 air, a fairy bridge provided by kind Nature for the 
 wingless wild things that have their homes in the 
 tree-tops and would visit together; the larch and 
 the pomegranate flung their purple and yellow 
 flames in brilliant broad splashes along the slanting 
 sweep of the woodland ; the sensuous fragrance of 
 innumerable deciduous flowers rose upon the swoon 
 ing atmosphere ; far in the empty sky a solitary 
 oesophagus* slept upon motionless wing; every- 
 
 * [From the Springfield Republican April 12, 1902.] 
 To the Editor of the Republican : 
 
 One of your citizens has asked me a question about the "oesopha 
 gus," and I wish to answer him through you. This in the hope that the 
 answer will get around, and save me some penmanship, for I have 
 already replied to the same question more than several times, and am 
 not getting as much holiday as I ought to have. 
 
 I published a short story lately, and it was in that that I put the 
 oesophagus, I will say privately that I expected it to bother some peo 
 ple in fact, that was the intention, but the harvest has been larger 
 than I was calculating upon. The oesophagus has gathered in the 
 
 (313) 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story }i} 
 
 where brooded stillness, serenity, and the peace of 
 God. 
 
 October is the time- 1900; Hope Canyon is the 
 place, a silver-mining camp away down in the 
 
 guilty and the innocent alike, whereas I was only fishing for the inno 
 cent the innocent and confiding. I knew a few of these would write 
 and ask me ; that would give me but little trouble ; but I was not ex 
 pecting that the wise and the learned would call upon me for succor. 
 However, that has happened, and it is time for me to speak up and 
 stop the inquiries if I can, for letter-writing is not restful to me, and I 
 am not having so much fun out of this thing as I counted on. That 
 you may understand the situation, I will insert a couple of sample in 
 quiries. The first is from a public instructor in the Philippines : 
 
 SANTA CRUZ, Ilocos Sur, P. I. 
 
 February 13, 1902. 
 
 My Dear Sir: I have just been reading the first part of your latest 
 story, entitled " A Double-barreled Detective Story," and am very much 
 delighted with it. In Part IV, page 264, Harper s Magazine for Janu 
 ary, occurs this passage: " far in the empty sky a solitary * oesophagus 
 slept, upon motionless wing; everywhere brooded stillness, serenity, and 
 the peace of God." Now, there is one word I do not understand, 
 namely, "oesophagus." My only work of reference is the "Standard 
 Dictionary," but that fails to explain the meaning. If you can spare 
 the time, I would be glad to have the meaning cleared up, as I consider 
 the passage a very touching and beautiful one. It may seem foolish to 
 you, but consider my lack of means away out in the northern part of 
 Luzon. Yours very truly. 
 
 Do you notice? Nothing in the paragraph disturbed him but that 
 one word. It shows that that paragraph was most ably constructed fot 
 the deception it was intended to put upon the reader. It was my mien* 
 tion that it should read plausibly, and it is now plain that it does; it was 
 my intention that it should be emotional and touching, and you see, 
 yourself, that it fetched this public instructor. Alas, if I had but left 
 that one treacherous word out, I should have scored! scored every 
 where; and the paragraph would have slidden through every reader s 
 sensibilities like oil, and left not a suspicion behind. 
 
 The other sample inquiry is from a professor in a New England uni 
 versity. It contains one naughty word (which I cannot bear to sup- 
 
314 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 Esmeralda region. It is a secluded spot, high and 
 remote ; recent as to discovery ; thought by its oc 
 cupants to be rich in metal a year or two s pros 
 pecting will decide that matter one way or the 
 
 press), but he is not in the theological department, so it is no harm: 
 Dear Mr. Clemens: "Far in the empty sky a solitary oesophagus 
 slept upon motionless wing." 
 
 It is not often I get a chance to read much periodical literature, but 
 I have just gone through at this belated period, with much gratification 
 and edification, your " Double-Barreled Detective Story." 
 
 But what in hell is an oesophagus? I keep one myself, but it never 
 sleeps in the air or anywhere else. My profession is to deal with words, 
 and oesophagus interested me the moment I lighted upon it. But as a 
 companion of my youth used to say, " I ll be eternally, co-eternally 
 cussed " if I can make it out. Is it a joke, or I an ignoramus? 
 
 Between you and me, I was almost ashamed of having fooled that 
 man, but for pride s sake I was not going to say so. I wrote and told 
 him it was a joke and that is what I am now saying to my Springfield 
 inquirer. And I told him to carefully read the whole paragraph, and 
 he would find not a vestige of sense in any detail of it. This also I 
 commend to my Springfield inquirer. 
 
 I have confessed. I am sorry partially. I will not do so any 
 more for the present. Don t ask me any more questions; let the 
 oesophagus have a rest on his same old motionless wing. 
 
 MARK TWAIN. 
 
 New York City, April 10, igo2. 
 
 (Editorial.) 
 
 flSTThe "Double-Barreled Detective Story," which appeared in Har 
 per s Mag. for January and February last, is the most elaborate of bur 
 lesques on detective fiction, with striking melodramatic passages in which 
 it is difficult to detect the deception, so ably is it done. But the illusion 
 ought not to endure even the first incident in the February number. 
 As for the paragraph which has so admirably illustrated the skill of Mr. 
 Clemens s ensemble and the carelessness of readers, here it is: 
 
 It was a crisp and spicy morning in early October. The lilacs and 
 laburnums, lit with the glory-fires of autumn, hung burning and flashing 
 in the upper air, a fairy bridge provided by kind nature for the wingless 
 things that have their home in the tree-tops and would visit to* 
 
A Double- Barreled Detective Story 31 * 
 
 other. For inhabitants, the camp has about two 
 hundred miners, one white woman and child, 
 several Chinese washermen, five squaws, and a 
 dozen vagrant buck Indians in rabbit-skin robes, 
 battered plug hats, and tin-can necklaces. There are 
 no mills as yet; no church, no newspaper. The 
 camp has existed but two years ; it has made no big 
 strike ; the world is ignorant of its name and place. 
 
 On both sides of the canyon the mountains rise 
 wall-like, three thousand feet, and the long spiral of 
 straggling huts down in its narrow bottom gets a 
 kiss from the sun only once a day, when he sails 
 over at noon. The village is a couple of miles long; 
 
 gether; the larch and the pomegranate flung their purple and yellow 
 flames in brilliant broad splashes along the slanting sweep of the wood 
 land; the sensuous fragrance of innumerable deciduous flowers rose 
 upon the swooning atmosphere; far in the empty sky a solitary oeso 
 phagus slept upon motionless wing; everywhere brooded stillness, 
 serenity, and the peace of God. 
 
 The success of Mark Twain s joke recalls to mind his story of the 
 petrified man in the cavern, whom he described most punctiliously, first 
 giving a picture of the scene, its impressive solitude, and all that; then 
 going on to describe the majesty of the figure, casually mentioning 
 that the thumb of his right hand rested against the side of his nose; 
 then after further description observing that the fingers of the right 
 hand were extended in a radiating fashion; and, recurring to the digni 
 fied attitude and position of the man, incidentally remarked that the 
 thumb of the left hand was in contact with the little finger of the right 
 and so on. But it was so ingeniously written that Mark, relating the 
 history years later in an article which appeared in that excellent maga 
 zine of the past, the Galaxy, declared that no one ever found out the 
 joke, and, if we remember aright, that that astonishing old mockery 
 was actually looked for in the region where he, as a Nevada newspaper 
 Editor, had located it. It is certain that Mark Twain s jumping frog 
 has a good many more " pints " than any other frog. 
 
316 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 the cabins stand well apart from each other. The 
 tavern is the only " frame " house the only house, 
 one might say. It occupies a central position, and 
 is the evening resort of the population. They drink 
 there, and play seven-up and dominoes; also bil 
 liards, for there is a table, crossed all over with torn 
 places repaired with court-plaster; there are some 
 cues, but no leathers; some chipped balls which 
 clatter when they run, and do not slow up gradually, 
 but stop suddenly and sit down ; there is a part of a 
 cube of chalk, with a projecting jag of flint in it; 
 and the man who can score six on a single break 
 can set up the drinks at the bar s expense. 
 
 Flint Buckner s cabin was the last one of the vil 
 lage, going south ; his silver claim was at the other 
 end of the village, northward, and a little beyond 
 the last hut in that direction. He was a sour 
 creature, unsociable, and had no companionships. 
 People who had tried to get acquainted with him 
 had regretted it and dropped him. His history was 
 not known. Some believed that Sammy Hillyer 
 knew it; others said no. If asked, Hillyer said no, 
 he was not acquainted with it. Flint had a meek 
 English youth of sixteen or seventeen with him, 
 whom he treated roughly, both in public and in 
 private; and of course this lad was applied to for 
 information, but with no success. Fetlock Jones 
 name of the youth said that Flint picked him up 
 cm a prospecting tramp, and as he had neither home 
 nor friends in America, he had found it wise to stay 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 317 
 
 and take Buckner s hard usage for the sake of the 
 salary, which was bacon and beans. Further than 
 this he could offer no testimony. 
 
 Fetlock had been in this slavery for a month now, 
 and under his meek exterior he was slowly consum 
 ing to a cinder with the insults and humiliations 
 which his master had put upon him. For the meek 
 suffer bitterly from these hurts ; more bitterly, per 
 haps, than do the manlier sort, who can burst out 
 and get relief with words or blows when the limit of 
 endurance has been reached. Good-hearted people 
 wanted to help Fetlock out of his trouble, and tried 
 to get him to leave Buckner; but the boy showed 
 fright at the thought, and said he " dasn t." Pat 
 Riley urged him, and said: 
 
 "You leave the damned hunks and come with 
 me; don t you be afraid. I ll take care of him" 
 
 The boy thanked him with tears in his eyes, but 
 shuddered and said he " dasn t risk it"; he said 
 Flint would catch him alone, some time, in the 
 night, and then " Oh, it makes me sick, Mr. 
 Riley, to think of it." 
 
 Others said, <4 Run away from him; we ll stake 
 you ; skip out for the coast some night. But all 
 these suggestions failed ; he said Flint would hunt 
 him down and fetch him back, just for meanness. 
 
 The people could not understand this. The boy s 
 miseries went steadily on, week after week. It is 
 quite likely that the people would have understood 
 if they had known how he was employing his spare 
 
318 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 time. He slept in an out-cabin near Flint s; and 
 there, nights, he nursed his bruises and his humilia 
 tions, and studied and studied over a single problem 
 
 how he could murder Flint Buckner and not be 
 found out. It was the only joy he had in life; 
 these hours were the only ones in the twenty-four 
 which he looked forward to with eagerness and 
 spent in happiness. 
 
 He thought of poison. No -that would not 
 serve; the inquest would reveal where it was pro 
 cured and who had procured it. He thought of a 
 shot in the back in a lonely place when Flint would 
 be homeward bound at midnight his unvarying 
 hour for the trip. No somebody might be near, 
 and catch him. He thought of stabbing him in his 
 sleep. No he might strike an inefficient blow, 
 and Flint would seize him. He examined a hundred 
 different ways none of them would answer ; for in 
 even the very obscurest and secretest of them there 
 was always the fatal defect of a risk, a chance, a 
 possibility that he might be found out. He would 
 have none of that. 
 
 But he was patient, endlessly patient. There was 
 no hurry, he said to himself. He would never leave 
 Flint till he left him a corpse ; there was no hurry 
 
 he would find the way. It was somewhere, and 
 he would endure shame and pain and misery until he 
 found it. Yes, somewhere there was a way which 
 would leave not a trace, not even the faintest clew to 
 the murderer there was no hurry he would find 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 319 
 
 that way, and then oh, then, it would just be 
 good to be alive ! Meantime he would diligently 
 keep up his reputation for meekness; and also, as 
 always theretofore, he would allow no one to hear 
 him say a resentful or offensive thing about his 
 oppressor. 
 
 Two days before the before-mentioned October 
 morning Flint had bought some things, and he and 
 Fetlock had brought them home to Flint s cabin: a 
 fresh box of candles, which they put in the corner; 
 a tin can of blasting-powder, which they placed upon 
 the candle-box; a keg of blasting-powder, which 
 they placed under Flint s bunk; a huge coil of fuse, 
 which they hung on a peg, Fetlock reasoned that 
 Flint s mining operations had outgrown the pick, 
 arid that blasting was about to begin now. He had 
 seen blasting done, and he had a notion of the pro 
 cess, but he had never helped in it. His conjecture 
 was right blasting-time had come. In the morn 
 ing the pair carried fuse, drills, and the powder-can 
 to the shaft; it was now eight feet deep, and to 
 get into it and out of it a short ladder was used. 
 They descended, and by command Fetlock held the 
 drill without any instructions as to the right way 
 to hold it and Flint proceeded to strike. The 
 sledge came down; the drill sprang out of Fetlock s 
 hand, almost as a matter of course. 
 
 1 You mangy son of a nigger, is that any way to 
 hold a drill? Pick it up! Stand it up! There 
 hold fast. D you ! / // teach you ! " 
 
320 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 At the end of an hour the drilling was finished. 
 
 "Now, then, charge it." 
 
 The boy started to pour in the powder. 
 
 "Idiot!" 
 
 A heavy bat on the jaw laid the lad out. 
 
 "Get up! You can t lie sniveling there. Now, 
 then, stick in the fuse first. Now put in the 
 powder. Hold on, hold on ! Are you going to fill 
 the hole all up ? Of all the sap-headed milksops I 
 Put in some dirt ! Put in some gravel ! Tamp 
 it down! Hold on, hold on! Oh, great Scott! 
 get out of the way! " He snatched the iron and 
 tamped the charge himself, meantime cursing and 
 blaspheming like a fiend. Then he fired the fuse, 
 climbed out of the shaft, and ran fifty yards away, 
 Fetlock following. They stood waiting a few min 
 utes, then a great volume of smoke and rocks burst 
 high into the air with a thunderous explosion ; after 
 a little there was a shower of descending stones; 
 then all was serene again. 
 
 " I wish to God you d been in it! " remarked the 
 master. 
 
 They went down the shaft, cleaned it out, drilled 
 another hole, and put in another charge. 
 
 " Look here ! How much fuse are you proposing 
 to waste? Don t you know how to time a fuse? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " You don t ! Well, if you don t beat anything / 
 ever saw ! 
 
 He climbed out of the shaft and spoke down : 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 321 
 
 "Well, idiot, are you going to be all day? Cut 
 the fuse and light it ! " 
 
 The trembling creature began, 
 
 " If you please, sir, I 
 
 " You talk back to me ? Cut it and light it ! " 
 
 The boy cut and lit. 
 
 " Ger-reat Scott ! a one-minute fuse ! I wish you 
 were in " 
 
 In his rage he snatched the ladder out of the shaft 
 and ran. The boy was aghast. 
 
 " Oh, my God ! Help ! Help ! Oh, save me !" 
 he implored. " Oh what can I do ! What can 
 I do!" 
 
 He backed against the wall as tightly as he could ; 
 the sputtering fuse frightened the voice out of him ; 
 his breath stood still ; he stood gazing and impotent ; 
 in two seconds, three seconds, four he would be fly 
 ing toward the sky torn to fragments. Then he had 
 an inspiration. He sprang at the fuse ; severed the 
 inch of it that was left above ground, and was saved. 
 
 He sank down limp and half lifeless with fright, 
 his strength gone ; but he muttered with a deep joy : 
 
 " He has learnt me ! I knew there was a way, if 
 I would wait." 
 
 After a matter of five minutes Buckner stole to the 
 shaft, looking worried and uneasy, and peered down 
 into it. He took in the situation; he saw what had 
 happened. He lowered the ladder, and the boy 
 dragged himself weakly up it. He was very white. 
 His appearance added something to Buckner s un- 
 
322 A Double- Barreled Detective Story 
 
 comfortable state, and he said, with a show of regret 
 and sympathy which sat upon him awkwardly from 
 lack of practice : 
 
 * It was an accident, you know. Don t say any 
 thing about it to anybody; I was excited, and didn t 
 notice what I was doing. You re not looking well; 
 you ve worked enough for to-day; go down to my 
 cabin and eat what you want, and rest. It s just an 
 accident, you know, on account of my being 
 excited." 
 
 " It scared me," said the lad, as he started away; 
 " but I learnt something, so I don t mind it." 
 
 "Damned easy to please!" muttered Buckner, 
 following him with his eye. <4 I wonder if he ll tell? 
 Mightn t he? ... I wish it //#</ killed him." 
 
 The boy took no advantage of his holiday in the 
 matter of resting; he employed it in work, eager 
 and feverish and happy work. A thick growth of 
 chaparral extended down the mountain-side clear to 
 Flint s cabin; the most of Fetlock s labor was done 
 in the dark intricacies of that stubborn growth ; the 
 rest of it was done in his own shanty, At last all 
 was complete, and he said : 
 
 " If he s got any suspicions that I m going to tell 
 on him, he won t keep them long, to-morrow. He 
 will see that I am the same milksop as I always was 
 all day and the next. And the day after to-mor 
 row night there ll be an end of him ; nobody will 
 ever guess who finished him up nor how it was done. 
 He dropped me the idea his own self, and that s odd. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE next day came and went. 
 It is now almost midnight, and in five min 
 utes the new morning will begin. The scene is in 
 the tavern billiard- room. Rough men in rough 
 clothing, slouch hats, breeches stuffed into boot- 
 tops, some with vests, none with coats, are grouped 
 about the boiler-iron stove, which has ruddy cheeks 
 and is distributing a grateful warmth ; the billiard 
 balls are clacking ; there is no other sound that is, 
 within ; the wind is fitfully moaning without. The 
 men look bored ; also expectant. A hulking broad- 
 shouldered miner, of middle age, with grizzled whis 
 kers, and an unfriendly eye set in an unsociable face, 
 rises, slips a coil of fuse upon his arm, gathers up 
 some other personal properties, and departs without 
 word or greeting to anybody. It is Flint Buckner. As 
 the door closes behind him a buzz of talk breaks out. 
 
 " The regularest man that ever was," said Jake 
 Parker, the blacksmith: "you can tell when it s 
 twelve just by him leaving, without looking at your 
 Waterbury." 
 
 "And it s the only virtue he s got, as fur as I 
 know," said Peter Hawes, miner. 
 
324 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 " He s just a blight on this society," said Wells- 
 Fargo s man, Ferguson. "If I was running this 
 shop I d make him say something, some time or 
 other, or vamos the ranch." This with a suggestive 
 glance at the barkeeper, who did not choose to see 
 it, since the man under discussion was a good cus 
 tomer, and went home pretty well set up, every 
 night, with refreshments furnished from the bar. 
 
 " Say," said Ham Sandwich, miner, " does any 
 of you boys ever recollect of him asking you to take 
 a drink?" 
 
 ; Him ? Flint Buckner ? Oh, Laura ! " 
 
 This sarcastic rejoinder came in a spontaneous 
 general outburst in one form of words or another 
 from the crowd. After a brief silence, Pat Riley, 
 miner, said : 
 
 "He s the 15-puzzle, that cuss. And his boy s 
 another one. /can t make them out." 
 
 " Nor anybody else," said Ham Sandwich; " and I 
 if they are 15 -puzzles, how are you going to rank , 
 up that other one? When it comes to A i right- 
 down solid mysteriousness, he lays over both of 
 them. Easy -don t he?" 
 
 "You bet!" 
 
 Everybody said it. Every man but one. He 
 was the new-comer Peterson. He ordered the! 
 drinks all round, and asked who No. 3 might be. i 
 All answered at once, " Archy Stillman ! " 
 
 " Is he a mystery? " asked Peterson. 
 
 * Is he a mystery? Is Archy Stillman a mya- 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 325 
 
 tery? " said Wells-Fargo s man, Ferguson. " Why, 
 the fourth dimension s foolishness to him." 
 
 For Ferguson was learned. 
 
 Peterson wanted to hear all about him ; everybody 
 wanted to tell him; everybody began. But Billy 
 Stevens, the barkeeper, called the house to order, 
 and said one at a time was best. He distributed the 
 drinks, and appointed Ferguson to lead. Ferguson 
 said : 
 
 " Well, he s a boy. And that is just about all we 
 know about him. You can pump him till you are 
 tired; it ain t any use; you won t get anything. 
 At least about his intentions, or line of business, 
 or where he s from, and such things as that. And 
 as for getting at the nature and get-up of his main 
 big chief mystery, why, he ll just change the subject, 
 that s all. You can guess till you re black in the face 
 it s your privilege but suppose you do, where do 
 you arrive at ? Nowhere, as near as I can make out. 
 
 " What is his big chief one? " 
 
 " Sight, maybe. Hearing, maybe. Instinct, 
 maybe. Magic, maybe. Take your choice 
 grown-ups, twenty-five; children and servants, half 
 price. Now I ll tell you what he can do. You can 
 start here, and just disappear; you can go and hide 
 wherever you want to, I don t care where it is, 
 nor how far and he ll go straight and put his 
 finger on you." 
 
 You don t mean it!" 
 
 41 I just do, though. Weather s nothing to him 
 21 
 
326 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 elemental conditions is nothing to him he don t 
 even take notice of them." 
 
 11 Oh, come! Dark? Rain? Snow? Hey?" 
 
 "It s all the same to him. He don t give a 
 damn." 
 
 * Oh, say including/^, per aps?" 
 
 "Fog! he s got an eye t can plunk through it 
 like a bullet." 
 
 " Now, boys, honor bright, what s he giving me?" 
 
 "It s a fact!" they all shouted. "Go on, 
 Wells-Fargo." 
 
 " Well, sir, you can leave him here, chatting with 
 the boys, and you can slip out and go to any cabin 
 in this camp and open a book yes, sir, a dozen of 
 them and take the page in your memory, and 
 he ll start out and go straight to that cabin and open 
 every one of them books at the right page, and call 
 it off, and never make a mistake." 
 
 " He must be the devil !" 
 
 "More than one has thought it. Now I ll tell 
 you a perfectly wonderful thing that he done. The 
 other night he " 
 
 There was a sudden great murmur of sounds out 
 side, the door flew open, and an excited crowd burst 
 in, with the camp s one white woman in the lead 
 and crying: 
 
 " My child ! my child ! she s lost and gone ! For 
 the love of God help me to find Archy Stillman; 
 we ve hunted everywhere! " 
 
 Said the barkeeper: 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 327 
 
 " Sit down, sit down, Mrs. Hogan, and don t 
 worry. He asked for a bed three hours ago, tuck 
 ered out tramping the trails the way he s always do 
 ing, and went upstairs. Ham Sandwich, run up 
 and roust him out; he s in No. 14." 
 
 The youth was soon downstairs and ready. He 
 asked Mrs. Hogan for particulars. 
 
 4 * Bless you, dear, there ain t any; I wish there 
 was. I put her to sleep at seven in the evening, 
 and when I went in there an hour ago to go to bed 
 myself, she was gone. I rushed for your cabin, 
 dear, and you wasn t there, and I ve hunted for you 
 ever since, at every cabin down the gulch, and now 
 I ve come up again, and I m that distracted and 
 scared and heart-broke; but, thanks to God, I ve 
 found you at last, dear heart, and you ll find my 
 child. Come on! come quick! " 
 
 * Move right along; I m with you, madam. Go 
 to your cabin first." 
 
 The whole company streamed out to join the 
 hunt. All the southern half of the village was up, 
 a hundred men strong, and waiting outside, a vague 
 dark mass sprinkled with twinkling lanterns. The 
 mass fell into columns by threes and fours to accom 
 modate itself to the narrow road, and strode briskly 
 along southward, in the wake of the leaders. In a 
 few minutes the Hogan cabin was reached. 
 
 " There s the bunk," said Mrs. Hogan; " there s 
 where she was; it s where I laid her at seven 
 o clock; but where she is now, God only knows." 
 u 
 
328 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 " Hand me a lantern," said Archy. He set it 
 on the hard earth floor and knelt by it, pretending 
 to examine the ground closely. " Here s her 
 track," he said, touching the ground here and there 
 and yonder with his finger. " Do you see? " 
 
 Several of the company dropped upon their knees 
 and did their best to see. One or two thought they 
 discerned something like a track; the others shook 
 their heads and confessed that the smooth hard 
 surface had no marks upon it which their eyes were 
 sharp enough to discover. One said, " Maybe a 
 child s foot could make a mark on it, but 7 don t 
 see how." 
 
 Young Stillman stepped outside, held the light to 
 the ground, turned leftward, and moved three steps, 
 closely examining; then said, "I ve got the direc 
 tion come along; take the lantern, somebody." 
 
 He strode off swiftly southward, the files follow 
 ing, swaying and bending in and out with the deep 
 curves of the gorge. Thus a mile, and the mouth 
 of the gorge was reached ; before them stretched 
 the sage-brush plain, dim, vast, and vague. Still 
 man called a halt, saying, 4< We mustn t start wrong, 
 now; we must take the direction again." 
 
 He took a lantern and examined the ground for a 
 matter of twenty yards ; then said, " Come on ; it s all 
 right," and gave up the lantern. In and out among 
 the sage-bushes he marched, a quarter of a mile, bear 
 ing gradually to the right ; then took a new direction 
 and made another great semicircle; then changed 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 329 
 
 again and moved due west nearly half a mile and 
 stopped. 
 
 " She gave it up, here, poor little chap. Hold the 
 lantern. You can see where she sat." 
 
 But this was in a slick alkali flat which was sur 
 faced like steel, and no person in the party was 
 quite hardy enough to claim an eyesight that could 
 detect the track of a cushion on a veneer like that. 
 The bereaved mother fell upon her knees and kissed 
 the spot, lamenting. 
 
 " But where is she, then? " some one said. " She 
 didn t stay here. We can see tliat much, anyway." 
 
 Stillman moved about in a circle around the place, 
 with the lantern, pretending to hunt for tracks. 
 
 "Well! " he said presently, in an annoyed tone, 
 "I don t understand it." He examined again. 
 "No use. She was here that s certain; she 
 never walked away from here and that s certain. 
 It s a puzzle; I can t make it out." 
 
 The mother lost heart then. 
 
 "Oh, my God! oh, blessed Virgin! some flying 
 beast has got her. I ll never see her again ! " 
 
 " Ah, don t give up," said Archy. " We ll find 
 her don t give up." 
 
 " God bless you for the words, Archy Stillman ! " 
 and she seized his hand and kissed it fervently. 
 
 Peterson, the new-comer, whispered satirically in 
 Ferguson s ear: 
 
 "Wonderful performance to find this place, 
 wasn t it? Hardly worth while to come so far, 
 
330 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 though ; any other supposititious place would have 
 answered just as well hey? " 
 
 Ferguson was not pleased with the innuendo. He 
 said, with some warmth: 
 
 " Do you mean to insinuate that the child hasn t 
 been here ? I tell you the child has been here ! 
 Now if you want to get yourself into as tidy a 
 little fuss as " 
 
 14 All right! " sang out Stillman. * Come, every 
 body, and look at this ! It was right under our 
 noses all the time, and we didn t see it." 
 
 There was a general plunge for the ground at the 
 place where the child was alleged to have rested, 
 and many eyes tried hard and hopefully to see the 
 thing that Archy s finger was resting upon. There 
 was a pause, then a several-barreled sigh of disap 
 pointment. Pat Riley and Ham Sandwich said, in 
 the one breath : 
 
 " What is it, Archy? There s nothing here." 
 
 44 Nothing? Do you call tJiat nothing? " and he 
 swiftly traced upon the ground a form with his 
 finger. There don t you recognize it now? 
 It s Injun Billy s track. He s got the child." 
 
 " God be praised ! " from the mother. 
 4 Take away the lantern. I ve got the direction. 
 Follow! " 
 
 He started on a run, racing in and out among the 
 sage-bushes a matter of three hundred yards, and 
 disappeared over a sand-wave ; the others struggled 
 after him, caught him up, and found him waiting. 
 
A Double- Barreled Detective Story 331 
 
 Ten steps away was a little wickieup, a dim and 
 formless shelter of rags and old horse-blankets, a 
 dull light showing through its chinks. 
 
 "You lead, Mrs. Hogan," said the lad. "It s 
 your privilege to be first." 
 
 All followed the sprint she made for the wickieup, 
 and saw, with her, the picture its interior afforded. 
 Injun Billy was sitting on the ground ; the child was 
 asleep beside him. The mother hugged it with a 
 wild embrace, which included Archy Stillman, the 
 grateful tears running down her face, and in a 
 choked and broken voice she poured out a golden 
 stream of that wealth of worshiping endearments 
 which has its home in full richness nowhere but in 
 the Irish heart. 
 
 " I find her bymeby it is ten o clock," Billy ex 
 plained. " She sleep out yonder, ve y tired face 
 wet, been cryin , spose; fetch her home, feed her, 
 she heap much hungry go sleep gin." 
 
 In her limitless gratitude the happy mother waived 
 rank and hugged him too, calling him " the angel of 
 God in disguise." And he probably was in disguise 
 if he was that kind of an official. He was dressed 
 for the character. 
 
 At half-past one in the morning the procession 
 burst into the village singing, " When Johnny Comes 
 Marching Home," waving its lanterns, and swal 
 lowing the drinks that were brought out all along its 
 course. It concentrated at the tavern, and made a 
 night of what was left of the morning. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE next afternoon the village was electrified with 
 an immense sensation. A grave and dignified 
 foreigner of distinguished bearing and appearance had 
 arrived at the tavern, and entered this formidable 
 name upon the register : 
 
 SHERLOCK HOLMES. 
 
 The news buzzed from cabin to cabin, from claim 
 to claim; tools were dropped, and the town swarmed 
 toward the centre of interest. A man passing out 
 at the northern end of the village shouted it to Pat 
 Riley, whose claim was the next one to Flint Buck- 
 ner s. At that time Fetlock Jones seemed to turn 
 sick. He muttered to himself: 
 
 1 Uncle Sherlock ! The mean luck of it ! that 
 he should come just when . . . ." He dropped 
 into a reverie, and presently said to himself: " But 
 what s the use of being afraid of him ? Anybody 
 that knows him the way I do knows he can t 
 detect a crime except where he plans it all out 
 beforehand and arranges the clews and hires 
 some fellow to commit it according to instructions. 
 . . . Now there ain t going to be any clews this 
 
 (332) 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 333 
 
 time so, what show has he got? None at all. 
 No, sir; everything s ready. If I was to risk put 
 ting it off . . No, I won t run any risk like that. 
 Flint Buckner goes out of this world to-night, for 
 sure." Then another trouble presented itself. 
 " Uncle Sherlock 11 be wanting to talk home matters 
 with me this evening, and how am I going to get rid 
 of him? for I ve, got to be at my cabin a minute or 
 two about eight o clock." This was an awkward 
 matter, and cost him much thought. But he found 
 a way to beat the difficulty. " We ll go for a walk, 
 and I ll leave him in the road a minute, so that he 
 won t see what it is I do: the best way to throw a 
 detective off the track, anyway, is to have him along 
 when you are preparing the thing. Yes, that s the 
 safest I ll take him with me." 
 
 Meantime the road in front of the tavern was 
 blocked with villagers waiting and hoping for a 
 glimpse of the great man. But he kept his room, 
 and did not appear. None but Ferguson, Jake 
 Parker the blacksmith, and Ham Sandwich had any 
 luck. These enthusiastic admirers of the great 
 scientific detective hired the tavern s detained-bag- 
 gage lockup, which looked into the detective s room 
 across a little alleyway ten or twelve feet wide, am 
 bushed themselves in it, and cut some peep-holes in 
 the window-blind. Mr. Holmes s blinds were down; 
 but by and by he raised them. It gave the spies a 
 hair-lifting but pleasurable thrill to find themselves 
 face to face with the Extraordinary Man who had 
 
334 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 filled the world with the fame of his moie than 
 human ingenuities. There he sat not a myth, not 
 a shadow, but real, alive, compact of substance, and 
 almost within touching distance with the hand. 
 
 " Look at that head ! " said Ferguson, in an awed 
 voice. * By gracious ! that s a head ! " 
 
 "You bet!" said the blacksmith, with deep 
 reverence. "Look at his nose! look at his eyes! 
 Intellect? Just a battery of it ! " 
 
 "And that paleness," said Ham Sandwich. 
 41 Comes from thought that s what it comes from. 
 Hell! duffers like us don t know what real thought 
 f>." 
 
 "No more we don t," said Ferguson. "What 
 we take for thinking is just blubber-and-slush." 
 
 " Right you are, Wells-Fargo. And look at that 
 frown that s deep thinking away down, down, 
 forty fathom into the bowels of things. He s on 
 the track of something." 
 
 "Weil, he is, and don t you forget it. Say 
 look at that awful gravity look at that pallid sol- 
 emnness there ain t any corpse can lay over it," 
 
 "No, sir, not for dollars! And it s his n by 
 hereditary rights, too; he s been dead four times 
 a ready, and there s history for it. Three times 
 natural, once by accident. I ve heard say he smells 
 damp and cold, like a grave. And he " 
 
 " Sh! Watch him! There he s got his 
 thumb on the bump on the near corner of his fore 
 head, and his forefinger on the off one. His think- 
 
A Double- Barreled Detective Story 335 
 
 works is just ^-grinding now, you bet your other 
 shirt." 
 
 "That s so. And now he s gazing up toward 
 heaven and stroking his mustache slow, and " 
 
 " Now he has rose up standing, and is putting his 
 clews together on his left fingers with his right 
 finger. See? he touches the forefinger now mid 
 dle finger now ring-finger " 
 
 "Stuck!" 
 
 " Look at him scowl! He can t seem to make 
 out that clew. So he " 
 
 ** See him smile ! like a tiger and tally off the 
 other fingers like nothing! He s got it, boys; he s 
 got it sure ! " 
 
 Well, I should say! I d hate to be in that 
 man s place that he s after." 
 
 Mr. Holmes drew a table to the window, sat down 
 with his back to the spies, and proceeded to write. 
 The spies withdrew their eyes from the peep-holes, 
 lit their pipes, and settled themselves for a comfort 
 able smoke and talk. Ferguson said, with conviction : 
 
 ** Boys, it s no use talking, he s a wonder! He s 
 got the signs of it all over him." 
 
 *You hain t ever said a truer word than that, 
 Wells-Fargo," said Jake Parker. " Say, wouldn t 
 it a* been nuts if he d a-been here last night? " 
 
 * Oh, by George, but wouldn t it! " said Fergu 
 son. ** Then we d have seen scientific work. Intel 
 lect just pure intellect away up on the upper 
 levels, dontchuknow. Archy is all right, and it don t 
 
336 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 become anybody to belittle him, I can tell you. 
 But his gift is only just eyesight, sharp as an 
 owl s, as near as I can make it out just a grand 
 natural animal talent, no more, no less, and prime 
 as far as it goes, but no intellect in it, and for awful- 
 ness and rnarvelousness no more to be compared to 
 what this man does than than Why, let me 
 tell you what he d have done. He d have stepped 
 over to Hogan s and glanced just glanced, that s 
 all at the premises, and that s enough. See 
 everything? Yes, sir, to the last little detail; and 
 he d know more about that place than the Hogans 
 would know in seven years. Next, he would sit 
 down on the bunk, just as ca m, and say to Mrs. 
 Hogan Say, Ham, consider that you are Mrs. 
 Hogan. I ll ask the questions; you answer them." 
 "All right; go on." 
 
 * Madam, if you please attention do not let 
 your mind wander. Now, then sex of the child ? 
 
 * Female, your Honor. 
 
 * Um female. Very good, very good. Age? 
 4 Turned six, your Honor. 
 
 * Um young, weak two miles. Weariness 
 will overtake it then. It will sink down and sleep. 
 We shall find it two miles away, or less. Teeth? 
 
 1 Five, your Honor, and one a-coming/ 
 
 * Very good, very good, very good, indeed. 
 * You see, boys, he knows a clew when he sees it, 
 when it wouldn t mean a dern thing to anybody 
 else. Stockings, madam? Shoes? 
 
A Double -Barreled Detective Story 337 
 
 " 4 Yes, your Honor both. 
 
 * Yarn, perhaps? Morocco? 
 14 4 Yarn, your Honor. And kip. 
 
 4 Um kip. This complicates the matter. How 
 ever, let it go we shall manage. Religion? 
 
 4 Catholic, your Honor. 
 
 4 Very good. Snip me a bit from the bed 
 blanket, please. Ah, thanks. Part wool foreign 
 make. Very well. A snip from some garment of 
 the child s, please. Thanks. Cotton. Shows 
 wear. An excellent clew, excellent. Pass me a 
 pellet of the floor dirt, if you ll be so kind. Thanks, 
 many thanks. Ah, admirable, admirable ! Now 
 we know where we are, I think. You see, boys, 
 he s got all the clews he wants now; he don t need 
 anything more. Now, then, what does this Ex 
 traordinary Man do? He lays those snips and that 
 dirt out on the table and leans over them on his 
 elbows, and puts them together side by side and 
 studies them mumbles to himself, 4 Female ; 
 changes them around mumbles, 4 Six years old ; 
 changes them this way and that again mumbles: 
 4 Five teeth one a-coming Catholic yarn 
 cotton kip damn that kip. Then he straightens 
 up and gazes toward heaven, and plows his hands 
 through his hair plows and plows, muttering, 
 4 Damn that kip ! Then he stands up and frowns, 
 and begins to tally off his clews on his fingers and 
 gets stuck at the ring-finger. But only just a min 
 ute then his face glares all up in a smile like a 
 
338 A Double- 1 ^elective Story 
 
 house afire, and he s jhtens up stately and 
 majestic, and says to th< owd, * Take a lantern, a 
 couple of you, and go - r n to Injun Billy s and 
 fetch the child the rest you go long home to 
 bed; good-night, madam; good-night, gents/ And 
 he bows like the Matterhon , and pulls out for the 
 tavern. That s his style, and the Only scientific, 
 intellectual all over in fifteen minutes no pok 
 ing around all over the sage-brush range an hour 
 and a half in a mass-meeting crowd for him. boys 
 you hear me / 
 
 " By Jackson, it s grand ! " said Ham Sandwich. 
 " Wells-Fargo, you ve got him down to a dot. 
 He ain t painted up any exacter to the life in the 
 books. By George, I can just see him can t you, 
 boys?" 
 
 * You bet you! It s just a photograft, that s 
 what it is." 
 
 Ferguson was profoundly pleased with his success, 
 and grateful. He sat silently enjoying his happiness 
 a little while, then he murmured, with a deep awe in 
 his voice, 
 
 " I wonder if God made him? " 
 
 There was no response for a moment; then Ham 
 Sandwich said, reverently, 
 
 " Not all at one time, I reckon." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AT eight o clock that evening two persons were 
 groping their way past Flint Buckner s cabin 
 in the frosty gloom. They were Sherlock Holmes 
 and his nephew. 
 
 "Stop here in the road a moment, uncle," said 
 Fetlock, " while I run to my cabin; I won t be gone 
 a minute." 
 
 He asked for something the uncle furnished it 
 then he disappeared in the darkness, but soon re 
 turned, and the talking-walk was resumed. By nine 
 o clock they had wandered back to the tavern. 
 They worked their way through the billiard-room, 
 where a crowd had gathered in the hope of getting 
 a glimpse of the Extraordinary Man. A royal cheer 
 was raised. Mr. Holmes acknowledged the compli 
 ment with a series of courtly bows, and as he was 
 passing out his nephew said to the assemblage, 
 
 " Uncle Sherlock s got some work to do, gentle* 
 men, that 11 keep him till twelve or one; but he ll be 
 down again then, or earlier if he can, and hopes 
 some of you ll be left to take a drink with him." 
 
 "By George, he s just a duke, boys! Three 
 cheers for Sherlock Holmes, the greatest man that 
 
 (880) 
 
340 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 ever lived!" shouted Ferguson. "Hip, hip i 
 hip" 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! Tiger ! 
 
 The uproar shook the building, so hearty was the 
 feeling the boys put into their welcome. Upstairs 
 the uncle reproached the nephew gently, saying, 
 
 " What did you get me into that engagement for? " 
 
 " I reckon you don t want to be unpopular, do 
 you, uncle? Well, then, don t you put on any ex- 
 clusiveness in a mining-camp, that s all. The boys 
 admire you ; but if you was to leave without taking 
 a drink with them, they d set you down for a snob. 
 And besides, you said you had home talk enough 
 in stock to keep us up and at it half the night." 
 
 The boy was right, and wise the uncle acknowl 
 edged it. The boy was wise in another detail which 
 he did not mention, except to himself: "Uncle 
 and the others will come handy in the way of nail 
 ing an alibi where it can t be budged." 
 
 He and his uncle talked diligently about three 
 hours. Then, about midnight, Fetlock stepped 
 downstairs and took a position in the dark a dozen 
 steps from the tavern, and waited. Five minutes 
 later Flint Buckner came rocking out of the billiard- 
 room and almost brushed him as he passed. 
 
 "I ve got him!" muttered the boy. He con 
 tinued to himself, looking after the shadowy form : 
 " Good-by good-by for good, Flint Buckner; you 
 called my mother a well, never mind what: it s all 
 right, now; you re taking your last walk, friend." 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 341 
 
 fie went musing back into the tavern. "From 
 now till one is an hour. We ll spend it with the 
 boys: it s good for the alibi." 
 
 He brought Sherlock Holmes to the billiard- 
 room, which was jammed with eager and admiring 
 miners; the guest called the drinks, and the fun be 
 gan. Everybody was happy; everybody was com 
 plimentary; the ice was soon broken, songs, anec 
 dotes, and more drinks followed, and the pregnant 
 minutes flew. At six minutes to one, when the 
 jollity was at its highest 
 
 Boom ! 
 
 There was silence instantly. The deep sound 
 came rolling and rumbling from peak to peak up 
 the gorge, then died down, and ceased. The spell 
 broke, then, and the men made a rush for the door, 
 saying, 
 
 " Something s blown up ! " 
 
 Outside, a voice in the darkness said, 
 
 " It s away down the gorge; I saw the flash." 
 
 The crowd poured down the canyon Holmes, 
 Fetlock, Archy Stillman, everybody. They made 
 the mile in a few minutes. By the light of a lantern 
 they found the smooth and solid dirt floor of Flint 
 Buckner s cabin; of the cabin itself not a vestige 
 remained, not a rag nor a splinter. Nor any sign of 
 Flint. Search parties sought here and there and 
 yonder, and presently a cry went up. 
 
 Here he is!" 
 
 It was true. Fifty yards down the gulch they had 
 
342 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 found him that is, they had found a crushed and 
 lifeless mass which represented him. Fetlock Jones 
 hurried thither with the others and looked. 
 
 The inquest was a fifteen-minute affair. Ham 
 Sandwich, foreman of the jury, handed up the 
 verdict, which was phrased with a certain unstudied 
 literary grace, and closed with this finding, to wit: 
 that " deceased came to his death by his own act or 
 some other person or persons unknown to this jury 
 not leaving any family or similar effects behind but 
 his cabin which was blown away and God have 
 mercy on his soul amen." 
 
 Then the impatient jury rejoined the main crowd, 
 for the storm-centre of interest was there Sher 
 lock Holmes. The miners stood silent and reverent 
 in a half-circle, enclosing a large vacant space which 
 included the front exposure of the site of the late 
 premises. In this considerable space the Extraor 
 dinary Man was moving about, attended by his 
 nephew with a lantern. With a tape he took meas 
 urements of the cabin site ; of the distance from the 
 wall of chaparral to the road ; of the height of the 
 chaparral bushes; also various other measurements. 
 He gathered a rag here, a splinter there, and a pinch 
 of earth yonder, inspected them profoundly, and 
 preserved them. He took the "lay " of the place 
 with a pocket compass, allowing two seconds for 
 magnetic variation. He took the time (Pacific) by 
 his watch, correcting it for local time. He paced oft 
 the distance from the cabin site to the corpse, and 
 
A Double- Barreled Detective Story 343 
 
 corrected that for tidal differentiation. He took the 
 altitude with a pocket-aneroid, and the temperature 
 with a pocket-thermometer. Finally he said, with a 
 stately bow : 
 
 " It is finished. Shall we return, gentlemen? " 
 
 He took up the line of march for the tavern, and 
 the crowd fell into his wake, earnestly discussing and 
 admiring the Extraordinary Man, and interlarding 
 guesses as to the origin of the tragedy and who the 
 author of it might be. 
 
 44 My, but it s grand luck having him here hey, 
 boys?" said Ferguson. 
 
 11 It s the biggest thing of the century," said Ham 
 Sandwich. " It 11 go all over the world; you mark 
 my words." 
 
 44 You bet!" said Jake Parker the blacksmith. 
 "It ll boom this camp. Ain t it so, Wells- 
 Fargo?" 
 
 " Well, as you want my opinion if it s any sign 
 of how / think about it, I can tell you this : yester 
 day I was holding the Straight Flush claim at two 
 dollars a foot; I d like to see the man that can get 
 it at sixteen to-day." 
 
 11 Right you are, Wells-Fargo ! It s the grandest 
 luck a new camp ever struck. Say, did you see him 
 collar them little rags and dirt and things? What an 
 eye ! He just can t overlook a clew tain t/w him." 
 
 14 That s so. And they wouldn t mean a thing to 
 anybody else; but to him, why, they re just a book 
 large print at that." 
 v 
 
344 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 " Sure s you re born ! Them odds and ends have 
 got their little old secret, and they think there ain t 
 anybody can pull it ; but, land ! when he sets his 
 grip there they ve got to squeal, and don t you for 
 get it." 
 
 " Boys, I ain t sorry, now, that he wasn t here to 
 roust out the child ; this is a bigger thing, by a long 
 sight. Yes, sir, and more tangled up and scientific 
 and intellectual. 1 
 
 * I reckon we re all of us glad it s turned out this 
 way. Glad? George! it ain t any name for it. 
 Dontchuknow, Archy could ve learnt something if 
 he d had the nous to stand by and take notice of 
 how that man works the system. But no; he went 
 poking up into the chaparral and just missed the 
 whole thing." 
 
 "It s true as gospel; I seen it myself. Well, 
 Archy s young. He ll know better one of these 
 days." 
 
 " Say, boys, who do you reckon done it? " 
 
 That was a difficult question, and brought out a 
 world of unsatisfying conjecture. Various men were 
 mentioned as possibilities, but one by one they were 
 discarded as not being eligible. No one but young 
 Hillyer had been intimate with Flint Buckner; no 
 one had really had a quarrel with him ; he had 
 affronted every man who had tried to make up to 
 hinij although not quite offensively enough to require 
 bloodshed. There was one name that was upon 
 every tongue from the start, but it was the last to get 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 345 
 
 utterance Fetlock Jones s. It was Pat Riley that 
 mentioned it. 
 
 * Oh, well," the boys said, " of course we ve all 
 thought of him, because he had a million rights to 
 kill Flint Buckner, and it was just his plain duty to 
 do it. But all the same there s two things we can t 
 get around : for one thing, he hasn t got the sand ; 
 and for another, he wasn t anywhere near the placa 
 when it happened." 
 
 * I know it," said Pat. "He was there in the 
 billiard-room with us when it happened." 
 
 " Yes, and was there all the time for an hour before 
 it happened." 
 
 44 It s so. And lucky for him, too. He d have 
 been suspected in a minute if it hadn t been for 
 that." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE tavern dining-room had been cleared of all its 
 furniture save one six-foot pine table and a 
 chair. This table was against one end of the room ; 
 the chair was on it; Sherlock Holmes, stately, im 
 posing, impressive, sat in the chair. The public 
 stood. The room was full. The tobacco smoke 
 was dense, the stillness profound. 
 
 The Extraordinary Man raised his hand to com 
 mand additional silence; held it in the air a few 
 moments; then, in brief, crisp terms he put forward 
 question after question, and noted the answers with 
 " Um-ums," nods of the head, and so on. By this 
 process he learned all about Flint Buckner, his char 
 acter, conduct, and habits, that the people were able 
 to tell him. It thus transpired that the Extraordi 
 nary Man s nephew was the only person in the camp 
 who had a killing-grudge against Flint Buckner. 
 Mr. Holmes smiled compassionately upon the wit 
 ness, and asked, languidly 
 
 " Do any of you gentlemen chance to know where 
 the lad Fetlock Jones was at the time of the ex 
 plosion? " 
 
 A thunderous response followed 
 
 (346* 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 347 
 
 " In the billiard-room of this house ! " 
 
 " Ah. And had he just come in? " 
 
 " Been there all of an hour ! " 
 
 " Ah. It is about about well, about how far 
 might it be to the scene of the explosion ? 
 
 "All of a mile!" 
 
 " Ah. It isn t much of an alibi, tis true, but " 
 
 A storm-burst of laughter, mingled with shouts 
 of "By jiminy, but he s chain-lightning!" and 
 " Ain t you sorry you spoke, Sandy? " shut off the 
 rest of the sentence, and the crushed witness drooped 
 his blushing face in pathetic shame. The inquisitor 
 resumed : 
 
 "The lad Jones s somewhat distant connection 
 with the case" (laughter) "having been disposed 
 of, let us now call the ^-witnesses of the tragedy, 
 and listen to what they have to say." 
 
 He got out his fragmentary clews and arranged 
 them on a sheet of cardboard on his knee. The 
 house held its breath and watched. 
 
 "We have the longitude and the latitude, cor 
 rected for magnetic variation, and this gives us the 
 exact location of the tragedy. We have the altitude, 
 the temperature, and the degree of humidity pre 
 vailing inestimably valuable, since they enable us 
 to estimate with precision the degree of influence 
 which they would exercise upon the mood and dis 
 position of the assassin at that time of the night." 
 
 {Buzz of admiration ; muttered remark, "By 
 George, but he s deep /") He fingered his clews. 
 
M8 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 * And now let us ask these mute witnesses to speak 
 to us. 
 
 l< Here we have an empty linen shotbag. What is 
 its message? This: that robbery was the motive, 
 not revenge. What is its further message? This: 
 that the assassin was of inferior intelligence shall 
 we say light- witted, or perhaps approaching that? 
 How do we know this? Because a person of sound 
 intelligence would not have proposed to rob the man 
 Buckner, who never had much money with him. 
 But the assassin might have been a stranger? Let 
 the bag speak again. I take from it this article. It 
 is a bit of silver-bearing quartz. It is peculiar. Ex 
 amine it, please you and you and you. Now 
 pass it back, please. There is but one lode on this 
 coast which produces just that character and color of 
 quartz ; and that is a lode which crops out for nearly 
 two miles on a stretch, and in my opinion is des 
 tined, at no distant day, to confer upon its locality a 
 globe-girdling celebrity, and upon its two hundred 
 owners riches beyond the dreams of avarice. Name 
 that lode, please." 
 
 "The Consolidated Christian Science and Mary 
 Ann ! " was the prompt response. 
 
 A wild crash of hurrahs followed, and every man 
 reached for his neighbor s hand and wrung it, with 
 tears in his eyes; and Wells-Fargo Ferguson 
 shouted, " The Straight Flush is on the lode, and up 
 she goes to a hundred and fifty a foot you hear 
 me/ 99 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 349 
 
 When quiet fell, Mr. Holmes resumed: 
 "We perceive, then, that three facts are estab 
 lished, to wit: the assassin was approximately light- 
 witted ; he was not a stranger ; his motive was rob 
 bery, not revenge. Let us proceed. I hold in my 
 hand a small fragment of fuse, with the recent smell 
 of fire upon it. What is its testimony? Taken 
 with the corroborative evidence of the quartz, it re 
 veals to us that the assassin was a miner. What 
 does it tell us further? This, gentlemen: that the 
 assassination was consummated by means of an ex 
 plosive. What else does it say? This: that the ex 
 plosive was located against the side of the cabin 
 nearest the road the front side for within six 
 feet of that spot I found it. 
 
 4 I hold in my fingers a burnt Swedish match 
 the kind one rubs on a safety-box. I found it in the 
 road, 622 feet from the abolished cabin. What does 
 it say? This: that the train was fired from that 
 point. What further does it tell us? This: that the 
 assassin was left-handed. I low do I know this? I 
 should not be able to explain to you, gentlemen, 
 how I know it, the signs being so subtle that only 
 long experience and deep study can enable one to 
 detect them. But the signs are here, and they are 
 reinforced by a fact which you must have often 
 noticed in the great detective narratives that all 
 assassins are left-handed." 
 
 44 By Jackson, that s so!" said Ham Sandwich, 
 bringing his great hand down with a resounding slap 
 
350 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 upon his thigh; "blamed if I ever thought of it 
 before." 
 
 "Nor I!" "Nor I!" cried several. "Oh, 
 there can t anything escape him look at his eye ! " 
 
 " Gentlemen, distant as the murderer was from his 
 doomed victim, he did not wholly escape injury. 
 This fragment of wood which I now exhibit to you 
 struck him. It drew blood. Wherever he is, he 
 bears the telltale mark. I picked it up where he 
 stood when he fired the fatal train." He looked 
 out over the house from his high perch, and his 
 countenance began to darken ; he slowly raised his 
 hand, and pointed 
 
 " There stands the assassin ! " 
 
 For a moment the house was paralyzed with 
 amazement; then twenty voices burst out with: 
 
 "Sammy Hillyer? Oh, hell, no! Him? It s 
 pure foolishness ! " 
 
 " Take care, gentlemen be not hasty. Observe 
 he has the blood-mark on his brow." 
 
 Hillyer turned white with fright. He was near to 
 crying. He turned this way and that, appealing to 
 every face for help and sympathy ; and held out his 
 supplicating hands toward Holmes and began to 
 plead : 
 
 "Don t, oh, don t! I never did it; I give my 
 word I never did it. The way I got this hurt on 
 my forehead was 
 
 "Arrest him, constable!" cried Holmes. "I 
 will swear out the warrant." 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 351 
 
 The constable moved reluctantly forward hesi 
 tated stopped. 
 
 Hillyer broke out with another appeal. " Oh, 
 Archy, don t let them do it; it would kill mother! 
 You know how I got the hurt. Tell them, and 
 save me, Archy; save me! " 
 
 Stillman worked his way to the front, and said : 
 
 "Yes, I ll save you. Don t be afraid." Then 
 he said to the house, * Never mind how he got the 
 hurt; it hasn t anything to do with this case, and 
 isn t of any consequence." 
 
 14 God bless you, Archy, for a true friend ! " 
 
 11 Hurrah for Archy! Go in, boy, and play em 
 a knock-down flush to their two pair n a jack ! " 
 shouted the house, pride in their home talent and a 
 patriotic sentiment of loyalty to it rising suddenly 
 in the public heart and changing the whole attitude 
 of the situation. 
 
 Young Stillman waited for the noise to cease* 
 then he said, 
 
 " I will ask Tom Jeffries to stand by that doo* 
 yonder, and Constable Harris to stand by the othei 
 one here, and not let anybody leave the room." 
 
 " Said and done. Go on, old man ! " 
 
 "The criminal is present, I believe. I will show 
 him to you before long, in case I am right in my 
 guess. Now I will tell you all about the tragedy, 
 from start to finish. The motive wasn t robbery; 
 it was revenge. The murderer wasn t light- witted. 
 He didn t stand 622 feet away. He didn t get hit 
 
352 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 with a piece of wood. He didn t place the explo 
 sive against the cabin. He didn t bring a shot-bag 
 with him, and he wasn t left-handed. With the ex 
 ception of these errors, the distinguished guest s 
 statement of the case is substantially correct." 
 
 A comfortable laugh rippled over the house; 
 friend nodded to friend, as much as to say, " That s 
 the word, with the bark on it. Good lad, good boy. 
 He ain t lowering his flag any ! " 
 
 The guest s serenity was not disturbed. Stillman 
 resumed : 
 
 " I also have some witnesses; and I will presently 
 tell you where you can find some more." He held 
 up a piece of coarse wire; the crowd craned their 
 necks to see. * It has a smooth coating of melted 
 tallow on it. And here is a candle which is burned 
 half-way down. The remaining half of it has marks 
 cut upon it an inch apart. Soon I will tell you where 
 I found these things. I will now put aside reasonings, 
 guesses, the impressive hitchings of odds and ends 
 of clews together, and the other showy theatricals of 
 the detective trade, and tell you in a plain, straight 
 forward way just how this dismal thing happened." 
 
 He paused a moment, for effect to allow silence 
 and suspense to intensify and concentrate the house s 
 interest ; then he went on : 
 
 The assassin studied out his plan with a good 
 deal of pains. It was a good plan, very ingenious, 
 and showed an intelligent mind, not a feeble one. 
 It was a plan which was well calculated to ward oft 
 
A Double- Barreled Detective Story 353 
 
 all suspicion from its inventor. In the first place, 
 he marked a candle into spaces an inch apart, and lit 
 it and timed it. He found it took three hours to 
 burn four inches of it. I tried it myself for half an 
 hour, awhile ago, upstairs here, while the inquiry 
 into Flint Buckner s character and ways was being 
 conducted in this room, and I arrived in that way at 
 the rate of a candle s consumption when sheltered 
 from the wind. Having proved his trial-candle s 
 rate, he blew it out I have already shown it to you 
 and put his inch-marks on a fresh one. 
 
 " He put the fresh one into a tin candlestick, 
 fhen at the five-hour mark he bored a hole through 
 the candle with a red-hot wire. I have already 
 shown you the wire, with a smooth coat of tallow on 
 it tallow that had been melted and had cooled. 
 
 "With labor very hard labor, I should say 
 he struggled up through the stiff chaparral that 
 clothes the steep hillside back of Flint Buckner s 
 place, tugging an empty flour-barrel with him. He 
 placed it in that absolutely secure hiding-place, and 
 in the bottom of it he set the candlestick. Then he 
 measured off about thirty-five feet of fuse the 
 barrel s distance from the back of the cabin. He 
 bored a hole in the side of the barrel here is the 
 large gimlet he did it with. He went on and 
 finished his work; and when it was done, one end of 
 the fuse was in Buckner s cabin, and the other end, 
 with a notch chipped in it to expose the powder, was 
 in the hole in the candle timed to blow the place 
 
354 A Double-Barrel )e. Jive Story 
 
 up at one o clock this rrK g, provided the candle 
 was lit about eight o yesterday evening 
 
 which I am betting it \* ind provided there was 
 
 an explosive in the ca .md connected with that 
 end of the fuse which a also betting there was, 
 though I can t prove it. -ys, the barrel is there in 
 the chaparral, the candle :mains are in it in the tin 
 stick; the burnt-out fust in the gimlet-hole, the 
 other end is down the ill where the late cabi>* 
 stood. I saw them all an hour or two ago, when 
 the Professor here was measuring off unimplicated 
 vacancies and collecting relics that hadn t anything 
 to do with the case." 
 
 He paused. The house drew a long, deep breath, 
 shook its strained cords and muscles free and burst 
 into cheers. "Dang him!" said Ham Sandwich, 
 " that s why he was snooping around in the chaparral, 
 instead of picking up points out of the P fessor s 
 game. Looky here he ain t no fool, boys/ " 
 
 " No, sir ! Why, great Scott " 
 
 But Stillman was resuming: 
 
 1 While we were out yonder an hour or two ago 
 the owner of the gimlet and the trial-candle took 
 them from a place where he had concealed them 
 it was not a good place and carried them to what 
 he probably thought was a better one, two hundred 
 yards up in the pine woods, and hid them there, 
 covering them over with pine needles. It was there 
 that I found them. The gimlet exactly fits the hole 
 in the barrel. And now 
 
A Double ^ar L "-i Detective Story 355 
 
 The Extraordinary 1 n interrupted him. He 
 said, sarcastically: 
 
 1 We have had a ve ; >tty fairy-tale, gentlemen 
 - very pretty indeed. :& I would like to ask this 
 young man a question c o." 
 
 Some of the boys wir and Ferguson said, 
 "I m afraid Archy s a ;ag to catch it now." 
 The others lost their miles and sobered down. 
 Mr. Holmes said : 
 
 " Let us proceed to examine into this fairy-tale in 
 a consecutive and orderly way by geometrical 
 progression, so to speak linking detail to detail in 
 a steadily advancing and remorselessly consistent 
 and unassailable march upon this tinsel toy-fortress 
 of error, the dream-fabric of a callow imagination. 
 To begin with, young sir, I desire to ask you but 
 three questions at present at present. Did I 
 understand you to say it was your opinion that the 
 supposititious candle was lighted at about eight 
 o clock yesterday evening? " 
 " Yes, sir about eight." 
 * Could you say exactly eight? " 
 " Well, no, I couldn t be that exact." 
 " Um. If a person had been passing along there 
 just about that time, he would have been almost sure 
 to encounter that assassin, do you think? " 
 "Yes, I should think so." 
 
 " Thank you, that is all. For the present. I say, 
 all for the present. 
 
 4 * Dern him ! he s laying for Archy," said Ferguson 
 
356 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 "It s so," said Ham Sandwich. " I don t like 
 the look of it." 
 
 Stillman said, glancing at the guest, 
 
 "I was along there myself at half past eight 
 no, about nine." 
 
 "In-deed? This is interesting this is very in 
 teresting. Perhaps you encountered the assassin ?" 
 
 "No, I encountered no one." 
 
 " Ah. Then if you will excuse the remark I 
 do not quite see the relevancy of the information." 
 
 " It has none. At present. I say it has none 
 at present." 
 
 He paused. Presently he resumed: "I did not 
 encounter the assassin, but I am on his track, I am 
 sure, for I believe he is in this room. I will ask you 
 all to pass one by one in front of me here, where 
 there is a good light so that I can see your feet." 
 
 A buzz of excitement swept the place, and the 
 march began, the guest looking on with an iron 
 attempt at gravity which was not an unqualified suc 
 cess. Stillman stooped, shaded his eyes with his 
 hand, and gazed down intently at each pair of feet 
 as it passed. Fifty men tramped monotonously by 
 with no result. Sixty. Seventy. The thing was 
 beginning to look absurd. The guest remarked, 
 with suave irony, 
 
 "Assassins appear to be scarce this evening." 
 
 The house saw the humor of it, and refreshed it 
 self with a cordial laugh. Ten or twelve more can 
 didates tramped by no, danced by, with airy and 
 
STILLMAN ACCUSES SHERLOCK HOLMES 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 357 
 
 ridiculous capers which convulsed the spectators 
 then suddenly Stillman put out his hand and said, 
 
 44 This is the assassin ! " 
 
 14 Fetlock Jones, by the great Sanhedrim ! " roared 
 the crowd ; and at once let fly a pyrotechnic explo 
 sion and dazzle and confusion of stirring remarks in 
 spired by the situation. 
 
 At the height of the turmoil the guest stretched 
 out his hand, commanding peace. The authority of 
 a great name and a great personality laid its mysteri 
 ous compulsion upon the house, and it obeyed. 
 Out of the panting calm which succeeded, the guest 
 spoke, saying, with dignity and feeling: 
 
 * This is serious. It strikes at an innocent life. 
 Innocent beyond suspicion ! Innocent beyond per- 
 adventure ! Hear me prove it ; observe how simple 
 a fact can brush out of existence this witless lie. 
 Listen. My friends, that lad was never out of my 
 sight yesterday evening at any time ! 
 
 It made a deep impression. Men turned their 
 eyes upon Stillman with grave inquiry in them. 
 His face brightened, and he said, 
 
 41 1 knew there was another one! " He stepped 
 briskly to the table and glanced at the guest s feet, 
 then up at his face, and said : * 4 You were with him ! 
 You were not fifty steps from him when he lit the 
 candle that by and by fired the powder! " (Sensa 
 tion.) 44 And what is more, you furnished the 
 matches yourself ! 
 
 Plainly the guest seemed hit; it looked so to the 
 23 
 
358 A Dcwble-Barreied Detective Story 
 
 public. He opened his mouth to speak: the words 
 did not come freely. 
 
 4 This er this is insanity this 
 
 Stillman pressed his evident advantage home. He 
 held up a charred match. 
 
 44 Here is one of them. I found it in the barrel 
 and there s another one there/ 
 
 The guest found his voice at once. 
 
 " Yes and put them there yourself! " 
 
 It was recognized a good shot. Stillman retorted. 
 
 " It is wax a breed unknown to this camp. I 
 am ready to be searched for the box. Are you? " 
 
 The guest was staggered this time the dullest 
 eye could see it. He fumbled with his hands ; once 
 or twice his lips moved, but the words did not come. 
 The house waited and watched, in tense suspense, 
 the stillness adding effect to the situation. Presently 
 Stillman said, gently, 
 
 l< We are waiting for your decision." 
 
 There was silence again during several moments ; 
 then the guest answered, in a low voice, 
 
 44 1 refuse to be searched." 
 
 There was no noisy demonstration, but all about 
 the house one voice after another muttered : 
 
 44 That settles it ! He s Archy s meat." 
 
 What to do now? Nobody seemed to know. It 
 was an embarrassing situation for the moment 
 merely, of course, because matters had taken such a 
 sudden and unexpected turn that these unpracticed 
 minds were not prepared for it, and had come to a 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 359 
 
 standstill, like a stopped clock, under the shock. 
 But after a little the machinery began to work again, 
 tentatively, and by twos and threes the men put their 
 heads together and privately buzzed over this and 
 that and the other proposition. One of these 
 propositions met with much favor ; it was, to confer 
 upon the assassin a vote of thanks for removing Flint 
 Buckner, and let him go. But the cooler heads op 
 posed it, pointing out that addled brains in the East 
 ern States would pronounce it a scandal, and make 
 no end of foolish noise about it. Finally the cool 
 heads got the upper hand, and obtained general con 
 sent to a proposition of their own ; their leader then 
 called the house to order and stated it to this effect : 
 that Fetlock Jones be jailed and put upon trial. 
 
 The motion was carried. Apparently there was 
 nothing further to do now, and the people were glad, 
 for, privately, they were impatient to get out and 
 rush to the scene of the tragedy, and see whether that 
 barrel and the other things were really there or not. 
 
 But no the break-up got a check. The sur 
 prises were not over yet. For a while Fetlock Jones 
 had been silently sobbing, unnoticed in the absorb 
 ing excitements which had been following one an 
 other so persistently for some time ; but when his 
 arrest and trial were decreed, he broke out despair 
 ingly, and said : 
 
 " No ! it s no use. I don t want any jail, I don t 
 want any trial; I ve had all the hard luck I want, 
 and all the miseries. Hang me now, and let me 
 w 
 
360 A Double- Barreled Detective Story 
 
 out! It would all come out, anyway there 
 couldn t anything save me. He has told it all, just 
 as if he d been with me and seen it /don t know 
 how he found out; and you ll find the barrel and 
 things, and then I wouldn t have any chance any 
 more. I killed him; and you d have done it too, if 
 he d treated you like a dog, and you only a boy, 
 and weak and poor, and not a friend to help you." 
 
 44 And served him damned well right! " broke in 
 Ham Sandwich. " Looky here, boys 
 
 From the constable : Order ! Order, gentle 
 men!" 
 
 A voice: " Did your uncle know what you was 
 up to?" 
 
 44 No, he didn t." 
 
 4 * Did he give you the matches, sure enough? " 
 
 * Yes, he did; but he didn t know what I wanted 
 them for." 
 
 14 When you was out on such a business as that, 
 how did you venture to risk having him along and 
 him a detective ? How s that? " 
 
 The boy hesitated, fumbled with his buttons in an 
 embarrassed way, then said, shyly, 
 
 44 1 know about detectives, on account of having 
 them in the family; and if you don t want them to 
 find out about a thing, it s best to have them around 
 when you do it." 
 
 The cyclone of laughter which greeted this narve 
 discharge of wisdom did not modify the poor little 
 waif s embarrassment in any large degree. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 rROM a letter to Mrs. Stillman, dated merely 
 "Tuesday." 
 
 Fetlock Jones was put under lock and key in an unoccupied log 
 cabin, and left there to await his trial. Constable Harris provided him 
 with a couple of days rations, instructed him to keep a good guard 
 over himself, and promised to look in on him as soon as further supplies 
 should be due. 
 
 Next morning a score of us went with Hillyer, out of friendship, 
 and helped him bury his late relative, the unlamented Buckner, and I 
 acted as first assistant pall-bearer, Hillyer acting as chief. Just as we 
 had finished our labors a ragged and melancholy stranger, carrying an 
 old hand-bag, limped by with his head down, and I caught the scent I 
 had chased around the globe ! It was the odor of Paradise to my per 
 ishing hope ! 
 
 In a moment I was at his side and had laid a gentle hand upon his 
 shoulder. He slumped to the ground as if a stroke of lightning had 
 withered him in his tracks; and as the boys came running he struggled 
 to his knees and put up his pleading hands to me, and out of his chat 
 tering jaws he begged me to persecute him no more, and said, 
 
 " You have hunted me around the world, Sherlock Holmes, yet God 
 is my witness I ha^e never done any man harm ! " 
 
 A glance at his wild eyes showed us that he was insane. That was 
 my work, mother ! The tidings of your death can some day repeat the 
 misery I felt in that moment, but nothing else can ever do it. The boys 
 lifted him up, and gathered about him, and were full of pity of him, 
 and said the gentlest and touchingest things to him, and said cheer up 
 and don t be troubled, he was among friends now, and they would take 
 care of him, and protect him, and hang any man that laid a hand on 
 him. They are just like so many mothers, the rough mining-camp boys 
 
362 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 are, when you wake up the south side of their hearts; yes, and just 
 like so many reckless and unreasoning children when you wake up the 
 opposite side of that muscle. They did everything they could think of 
 to comfort him, but nothing succeeded until Wells-Fargo Ferguson, who 
 is a clever strategist, said, 
 
 " If it s only Sherlock Holmes that s troubling [you, you needn t 
 worry any more." 
 
 " Why? " asked the forlorn lunatic, eagerly. 
 
 " Because he s dead again." 
 
 "Dead! Dead! Oh, don t trifle with a poor wreck like me. Is 
 he dead? On honor, now is he telling me true, boys? " 
 
 "True as you re standing there I" said Ham Sandwich, and they all 
 backed up the statement in a body. 
 
 "They hung him in San Bernardino last week," added Ferguson, 
 clinching the matter, " whilst he was searching around after you. Mis 
 took him for another man. They re sorry, but they can t help it now." 
 
 "They re a-building him a monument," said Ham Sandwich, with 
 the air of a person who had contributed to it, and knew. 
 
 "James Walker" drew a deep sigh evidently a sigh of relief 
 and said nothing; but his eyes lost something of their wildness, his 
 countenance cleared visibly, and its drawn look relaxed a little. We all 
 went to our cabin, and the boys cooked him the best dinner the camp 
 could furnish the materials for, and while they were about it Hillyer and 
 I outfitted him from hat to shoe-leather with new clothes of ours, and 
 made a comely and presentable old gentleman of him. "Old" is the 
 right word, and a pity, too : old by the droop of him, and the frost upon 
 his hair, and the marks which sorrow and distress have left upon his face; 
 though he is only in his prime in the matter of years. While he ate, 
 we smoked and chatted; and when he was finishing he found his voice 
 at last, and of his own accord broke out with his personal history. I 
 cannot furnish his exact words, but I will come as near it as I can. 
 
 THE "WRONG MAN S " STORY. 
 
 It happened like this: I was in Denver. I had been there many 
 years; sometimes I remember how many, sometimes I don t but it 
 isn t any matter. All of a sudden I got a notice to leave, or I would 
 be exposed for a horrible crime committed long before years and years 
 before in the East. 
 
 I knew about that crime, but I was not the criminal; it was a cousin 
 of mine of the same name. What should I better do? My head was 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 363 
 
 all disordered by fear, and I didn t know. I was allowed very little 
 time only one day, I think it was. I would be ruined if I was pub 
 lished, and the people would lynch me, and not believe what I said. 
 It is always the way with lynchings: when they find out it is a mistake 
 they are sorry, but it is too late, the same as it was with Mr. Holmes, 
 you see. So I said I would sell out and get money to live on, and run 
 away until it blew over and I could come back with my proofs. Then 
 I escaped in the night and went a long way off in the mountains some 
 where, and lived disguised and had a false name. 
 
 I got more and more troubled and worried, and my troubles made 
 me see spirits and hear voices, and I could not think straight and clear 
 on any subject, but got confused and involved and had to give it up, 
 because my head hurt so. It got to be worse and worse; more spirits 
 and more voices. They were about me all the time; at first only in the 
 night, then in the day too. They were always whispering around my 
 bed and plotting against me, and it broke my sleep and kept me fagged 
 out, because I got no good rest. 
 
 And then came the worst. One night the whispers said, " We ll 
 never manage, because we can t see him, and so can t point him out to 
 the people." 
 
 They sighed; then one said: "We must bring Sherlock Holmes. 
 He can be here in twelve days." 
 
 They all agreed, and whispered and jibbered with joy. But my 
 heart broke; for I had read about that man, and knew what it would 
 be to have him upon my track, with his superhuman penetration and 
 tireless energies. 
 
 The spirits went away to fetch him, and I got up at once in the 
 middle of the night and fled away, carrying nothing but the hand-bag 
 that had my money in it thirty thousand dollars; two-thirds of it are 
 in the bag there yet. . It was forty days before that man caught up on 
 my track. I just escaped. From habit he had written his real name 
 on a tavern register, but had scratched it out and written " Dagget 
 Barclay" in the place of it. But fear gives you a watchful eye and 
 keen, and I read the true name through the scratches, and fled like a 
 deer. 
 
 He has hunted me all over this world for three years and a half 
 the Pacific States, Australasia, India everywhere you can think of ; 
 then back to Mexico and up to California again, giving me hardly any 
 rest; but that name on the registers always saved me, and what is left 
 
364 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 of me is alive yet. And I am so tired ! A cruel time he has given me, 
 yet I give you my honor I have never harmed him nor any man. 
 
 That was the end of the story, and it stirred those boys to blood- 
 heat, be sure of it. As for me- each word burnt a hole in me where 
 it struck. 
 
 We voted that the old man should bunk with us, and be my guest 
 and Hillyer s. I shall keep my own counsel, naturally; but as soon as 
 he is well rested and nourished, I shall take him to Denver and rehabili 
 tate his fortunes. 
 
 The boys gave the old fellow the bone-mashing good-fellowship 
 handshake of the mines, and then scattered away to spread the news. 
 
 At dawn next morning Wells-Fargo Ferguson and Ham Sandwich 
 called us softly out, and said, privately : 
 
 " That news about the way that old stranger has been treated has 
 spread all around, and the camps are up. They are piling in from 
 everywhere, and are going to lynch the P fessor. Constable Harris is 
 in a dead funk, and has telephoned the sheriff. Come along ! " 
 
 We started on a run. The others were privileged to feel as they 
 chose, but in my heart s privacy I hoped the sheriff would arrive in 
 time; for I had small desire that Sherlock Holmes should hang for my 
 deeds, as you can easily believe. I had heard a good deal about the 
 sheriff, but for reassurance s sake I asked, 
 
 " Can he stop a mob? " 
 
 "Can he stop a mob! Can Jack Fairfax stop a mob! Well, I 
 should smile! Ex-desperado nineteen scalps on his string, Can^/ 
 Oh, I say!" 
 
 As we tore up the gulch, distant cries and shouts and yells rose 
 faintly on the still air, and grew steadily in strength as we raced along. 
 Roar after roar burst out, stronger and stronger, nearer and nearer; and 
 at last, when we closed up upon the multitude massed in the open area 
 in front of the tavern, the crash of sound was deafening. Some brutal 
 roughs from Daly s gorge had Holmes in their grip, and he was the 
 calmest man there; a contemptuous smile played about his lips, and if 
 any fear of death was in his British heart, his iron personality was 
 master of it and no sign of it was allowed to appear. 
 
 " Come to a vote, men ! " This from one of the Daly gang, Shad- 
 belly Higgins. "Quick ! is it hang, or shoot? " 
 
 " Neither ! " shouted one of his comrades. " He d be alive again 
 in a week; burning s the only permanency for Aim." 
 
A Double-Barreled Detective Story 365 
 
 The gangs from all the outlying camps burst out in a thunder-crash 
 of approval, and went struggling and surging toward the prisoner, and 
 closed around him, shouting, " Fire I fire s the ticket ! " They dragged 
 him to the horse-post, backed him against it, chained him to it, and 
 piled wood and pine cones around him waist-deep. Still the strong face 
 did not blench, and still the scornful smile played about the thin lips. 
 
 " A match ! fetch a match ! " 
 
 Shadbelly struck it, shaded it with his hand, stooped, and held it 
 under a pine cone. A deep silence fell upon the mob. The cone 
 caught, a tiny flame flickered about it a moment or two. I seemed to 
 catch the sound of distant hoofs it grew more distinct still more 
 and more distinct, more and more definite, but the absorbed crowd did 
 not appear to notice it. The match went out. The man struck another, 
 stooped, and again the flame rose; this time it took hold and began to 
 spread here and there men turned away their faces. The executioner 
 stood with the charred match in his fingers, watching his work. The 
 hoof-beats turned a projecting crag, and now they came thundering down 
 upon us. Almost the next moment there was a shout 
 
 "The sheriff!" 
 
 And straightway he came tearing into the midst, stood bis horse 
 almost on his hind feet, and said, 
 
 " Fall back, you gutter-snipes ! " 
 
 He was obeyed. By all but their leader. He stood his ground, 
 and his hand went to his revolver. The sheriff covered him promptly, 
 and said : 
 
 " Drop your hand, you parlor-desperado. Kick the fire away. 
 Now unchain the stranger." 
 
 The parlor-desperado obeyed,, Then the sheriff made a speech; 
 sitting his horse at martial ease, and not warming his words with any 
 touch of fire, but delivering them in a measured and deliberate way, and 
 in a tone which harmonized with their character and made them impres 
 sively disrespectful. 
 
 " You re a nice lot now ain t you? Just about eligible to travel 
 with this bilk here Shadbelly Higgins this loud-mouthed sneak that 
 shoots people in the back and calls himself a desperado. If there s any 
 thing I do particularly despise, it s a lynching mob; I ve never seen 
 one that had a man in it. It has to tally up a hundred against one be 
 fore it can pump up pluck enough to tackle a sick tailor. It s made up 
 of cowards, and so is the community that breeds it; and ninety-nine 
 
366 A Double-Barreled Detective Story 
 
 times out of a hundred the sheriff s another one." He paused appar 
 ently to turn that last idea over in his mind and taste the juice of it 
 then he went on: "The sheriff that lets a mob take a prisoner away 
 from him is the lowest-down coward there is. By the statistics there 
 was a hundred and eighty-two of them drawing sneak pay in America 
 last year. By the way it s going, pretty soon there ll be a new disease 
 in the doctor books sheriff complaint" That idea pleased him 
 any one could see it. " People will say, * Sheriff sick again? * Yes; 
 got the same old thing. And next there ll be a new title. People 
 won t say, He s running for sheriff of Rapaho County, for instance; 
 they ll say, * He s running for Coward of Rapaho. Lord, the idea of 
 a grown-up person being afraid of a lynch mob ! " 
 
 He turned an eye on the captive, and said, " Stranger, who are you, 
 and what have you been doing? " 
 
 " My name is Sherlock Holmes, and I have not been doing any 
 thing." 
 
 It was wonderful, the impression which the sound of that name 
 made on the sheriff, notwithstanding he must have come posted. He 
 spoke up with feeling, and said it was a blot on the country that a man 
 whose marvelous exploits had filled the world with their fame and their 
 ingenuity, and whose histories of them had won every reader s heart by 
 the brilliancy and charm of their literary setting, should be visited under 
 the Stars and Stripes by an outrage like. this. He apologized in the 
 name of the whole nation, and made Holmes a most handsome bow, 
 and told Constable Harris to see him to his quarters, and hold himself 
 personally responsible if he was molested again. Then he turned to the 
 mob and said: 
 
 "Hunt your holes, you scum!" which they did; then he said: 
 " Follow me, Shadbelly; I ll take care of your case myself. No keep 
 your pop-gun; whenever I see the day that I ll be afraid to have you be 
 hind me with that thing, it ll be time for me to join last year s hundred 
 and eighty-two;" and he rode off in a walk, Shadbelly following. 
 
 When we were on our way back to our cabin, toward breakfast-time, 
 we ran upon the news that Fetlock Jones had escaped from his lock-up 
 in the night and is gone ! Nobody is sorry. Let his uncle track him 
 out if he likes; it is in his line; the camp is not interested. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 days later. 
 
 "James Walker" is all right in body now, and his mind 
 shows improvement too. I start with him for Denver to-morrow 
 
 morning. 
 
 Next night. Brief note, mailed at a way station. 
 
 As we were starting, this morning, Hillyer whispered to me : " Keep 
 this news from Walker until you think it safe and not likely to disturb 
 his mind and check his improvement : the ancient crime he spoke ot 
 was really committed and by his cousin, as he said. We buried the 
 real criminal the other day the unhappiest man that has lived in a 
 century Flint Buckner. His real name was Jacob Fuller! " There, 
 mother, by help of me, an unwitting mourner, your husband and y 
 father is in his grave. Let him rest. : l 
 
 THE END. 
 
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