Huckleberry finn by Mark Twain

along. Now LEAVE--and take your half-a-man with you"--tossing his gun up

across his left arm and cocking it when he says this.
The crowd washed back sudden, and then broke all apart, and went tearing

off every which way, and Buck Harkness he heeled it after them, looking

tolerable cheap. I could a stayed if I wanted to, but I didn't want to.
I went to the circus and loafed around the back side till the watchman

went by, and then dived in under the tent. I had my twenty-dollar gold

piece and some other money, but I reckoned I better save it, because

there ain't no telling how soon you are going to need it, away from home

and amongst strangers that way. You can't be too careful. I ain't

opposed to spending money on circuses when there ain't no other way, but

there ain't no use in WASTING it on them.
It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever was

when they all come riding in, two and two, a gentleman and lady, side by

side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and no shoes nor

stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy and comfortable

--there must a been twenty of them--and every lady with a lovely

complexion, and perfectly beautiful, and looking just like a gang of real

sure-enough queens, and dressed in clothes that cost millions of dollars,

and just littered with diamonds. It was a powerful fine sight; I never

see anything so lovely. And then one by one they got up and stood, and

went a-weaving around the ring so gentle and wavy and graceful, the men

looking ever so tall and airy and straight, with their heads bobbing and

skimming along, away up there under the tent-roof, and every lady's

rose-leafy dress flapping soft and silky around her hips, and she looking

like the most loveliest parasol.

out in the air and then the other, the horses leaning more and more, and

the ringmaster going round and round the center-pole, cracking his whip

and shouting "Hi!--hi!" and the clown cracking jokes behind him; and by

and by all hands dropped the reins, and every lady put her knuckles on

her hips and every gentleman folded his arms, and then how the horses did

lean over and hump themselves! And so one after the other they all

skipped off into the ring, and made the sweetest bow I ever see, and then

scampered out, and everybody clapped their hands and went just about

wild.
Well, all through the circus they done the most astonishing things; and

all the time that clown carried on so it most killed the people. The

ringmaster couldn't ever say a word to him but he was back at him quick

as a wink with the funniest things a body ever said; and how he ever

COULD think of so many of them, and so sudden and so pat, was what I

couldn't noway understand. Why, I couldn't a thought of them in a year.

And by and by a drunk man tried to get into the ring--said he wanted to

ride; said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued

and tried to keep him out, but he wouldn't listen, and the whole show

come to a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make

fun of him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear; so that

stirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of the

benches and swarm towards the ring, saying, "Knock him down! throw him

out!" and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ringmaster he

made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn't be no disturbance,

and if the man would promise he wouldn't make no more trouble he would

let him ride if he thought he could stay on the horse. So everybody

laughed and said all right, and the man got on. The minute he was on, the

horse begun to rip and tear and jump and cavort around, with two circus

men hanging on to his bridle trying to hold him, and the drunk man

hanging on to his neck, and his heels flying in the air every jump, and

the whole crowd of people standing up shouting and laughing till tears

rolled down. And at last, sure enough, all the circus men could do, the

horse broke loose, and away he went like the very nation, round and round

the ring, with that sot laying down on him and hanging to his neck, with

first one leg hanging most to the ground on one side, and then t'other

one on t'other side, and the people just crazy. It warn't funny to me,

though; I was all of a tremble to see his danger. But pretty soon he

struggled up astraddle and grabbed the bridle, a-reeling this way and

that; and the next minute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood!

and the horse a-going like a house afire too. He just stood up there,

a-sailing around as easy and comfortable as if he warn't ever drunk in his

life--and then he begun to pull off his clothes and sling them. He shed

them so thick they kind of clogged up the air, and altogether he shed

seventeen suits. And, then, there he was, slim and handsome, and dressed

the gaudiest and prettiest you ever saw, and he lit into that horse with

his whip and made him fairly hum--and finally skipped off, and made his

bow and danced off to the dressing-room, and everybody just a-howling

with pleasure and astonishment.

ringmaster you ever see, I reckon. Why, it was one of his own men! He

had got up that joke all out of his own head, and never let on to nobody.

Well, I felt sheepish enough to be took in so, but I wouldn't a been in

that ringmaster's place, not for a thousand dollars. I don't know; there

may be bullier circuses than what that one was, but I never struck them

yet. Anyways, it was plenty good enough for ME; and wherever I run across

it, it can have all of MY custom every time.

people there--just enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all the

time, and that made the duke mad; and everybody left, anyway, before the

show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke said these

Arkansaw lunkheads couldn't come up to Shakespeare; what they wanted was

low comedy--and maybe something ruther worse than low comedy, he

reckoned. He said he could size their style. So next morning he got

some big sheets of wrapping paper and some black paint, and drawed off

some handbills, and stuck them up all over the village. The bills said:
AT THE COURT HOUSE! FOR 3 NIGHTS ONLY!

The World-Renowned Tragedians

DAVID GARRICK THE YOUNGER!

AND EDMUND KEAN THE ELDER!

Of the London and

Continental Theatres,

In their Thrilling Tragedy of

THE KING'S CAMELEOPARD,

OR THE ROYAL NONESUCH ! ! !

Admission 50 cents.

curtain and a row of candles for footlights; and that night the house was

jam full of men in no time. When the place couldn't hold no more, the

duke he quit tending door and went around the back way and come on to the

stage and stood up before the curtain and made a little speech, and

praised up this tragedy, and said it was the most thrillingest one that

ever was; and so he went on a-bragging about the tragedy, and about

Edmund Kean the Elder, which was to play the main principal part in it;

and at last when he'd got everybody's expectations up high enough, he

rolled up the curtain, and the next minute the king come a-prancing out

on all fours, naked; and he was painted all over, ring-streaked-and-

striped, all sorts of colors, as splendid as a rainbow. And--but never

mind the rest of his outfit; it was just wild, but it was awful funny.

The people most killed themselves laughing; and when the king got done

capering and capered off behind the scenes, they roared and clapped and

stormed and haw-hawed till he come back and done it over again, and after

that they made him do it another time. Well, it would make a cow laugh to

see the shines that old idiot cut.

the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of

pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it

in Drury Lane; and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has

succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply

obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come

and see it.
Twenty people sings out:
"What, is it over? Is that ALL?"
The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out,

"Sold!" and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them

tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:
"Hold on! Just a word, gentlemen." They stopped to listen. "We are

sold--mighty badly sold. But we don't want to be the laughing stock of

this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long

as we live. NO. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this

show up, and sell the REST of the town! Then we'll all be in the same

boat. Ain't that sensible?" ("You bet it is!--the jedge is right!"

everybody sings out.) "All right, then--not a word about any sell. Go

along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy."

show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this crowd the

same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the raft we all

had a supper; and by and by, about midnight, they made Jim and me back

her out and float her down the middle of the river, and fetch her in and

hide her about two mile below town.

this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I stood

by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had his

pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it

warn't no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs

by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the

signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of

them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for

me; I couldn't stand it. Well, when the place couldn't hold no more

people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for

him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him;

but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says:

raft like the dickens was after you!"

and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and

still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word.

I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience,

but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam,

and says:

up-town at all.

Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly laughed

their bones loose over the way they'd served them people. The duke says:
"Greenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let

the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they'd lay for us the third

night, and consider it was THEIR turn now. Well, it IS their turn, and

I'd give something to know how much they'd take for it. I WOULD just

like to know how they're putting in their opportunity. They can turn it

into a picnic if they want to--they brought plenty provisions."

three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that

before. By and by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:
"Don't it s'prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?"
"No," I says, "it don't."
"Why don't it, Huck?"
"Well, it don't, because it's in the breed. I reckon they're all alike,"
"But, Huck, dese kings o' ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat's jist what

dey is; dey's reglar rapscallions."

as I can make out."

's a Sunday-school Superintendent to HIM. And look at Charles Second,

and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward

Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon

heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My,

you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He WAS a

blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head

next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was

ordering up eggs. 'Fetch up Nell Gwynn,' he says. They fetch her up.

Next morning, 'Chop off her head!' And they chop it off. 'Fetch up Jane

Shore,' he says; and up she comes, Next morning, 'Chop off her head'--and

they chop it off. 'Ring up Fair Rosamun.' Fair Rosamun answers the

bell. Next morning, 'Chop off her head.' And he made every one of them

tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a

thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and

called it Domesday Book--which was a good name and stated the case. You

don't know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one

of the cleanest I've struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he

wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it

--give notice?--give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves

all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of

independence, and dares them to come on. That was HIS style--he never

give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of

Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No--drownded

him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S'pose people left money laying

around where he was--what did he do? He collared it. S'pose he

contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn't set down there and

see that he done it--what did he do? He always done the other thing.

S'pose he opened his mouth--what then? If he didn't shut it up powerful

quick he'd lose a lie every time. That's the kind of a bug Henry was;

and if we'd a had him along 'stead of our kings he'd a fooled that town a

heap worse than ourn done. I don't say that ourn is lambs, because they

ain't, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain't nothing

to THAT old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to

make allowances. Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot.

It's the way they're raised."

don't tell no way."

hard lot for a duke. When he's drunk there ain't no near-sighted man

could tell him from a king."
"Well, anyways, I doan' hanker for no mo' un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin

stan'."
"It's the way I feel, too, Jim. But we've got them on our hands, and we

got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we

could hear of a country that's out of kings."

wouldn't a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you

couldn't tell them from the real kind.
I went to sleep, and Jim didn't call me when it was my turn. He often

done that. When I waked up just at daybreak he was sitting there with

his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I

didn't take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was

thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low

and homesick; because he hadn't ever been away from home before in his

life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white

folks does for their'n. It don't seem natural, but I reckon it's so. He

was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was

asleep, and saying, "Po' little 'Lizabeth! po' little Johnny! it's mighty

hard; I spec' I ain't ever gwyne to see you no mo', no mo'!" He was a

mighty good nigger, Jim was.

ones; and by and by he says:

on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er de time I

treat my little 'Lizabeth so ornery. She warn't on'y 'bout fo' year ole,

en she tuck de sk'yarlet fever, en had a powful rough spell; but she got

well, en one day she was a-stannin' aroun', en I says to her, I says:
"'Shet de do'.'
"She never done it; jis' stood dah, kiner smilin' up at me. It make me

mad; en I says agin, mighty loud, I says:

Den I went into de yuther room, en 'uz gone 'bout ten minutes; en when I

come back dah was dat do' a-stannin' open YIT, en dat chile stannin' mos'

right in it, a-lookin' down and mournin', en de tears runnin' down. My,

but I WUZ mad! I was a-gwyne for de chile, but jis' den--it was a do'

dat open innerds--jis' den, 'long come de wind en slam it to, behine de

chile, ker-BLAM!--en my lan', de chile never move'! My breff mos' hop

outer me; en I feel so--so--I doan' know HOW I feel. I crope out, all

a-tremblin', en crope aroun' en open de do' easy en slow, en poke my head

in behine de chile, sof' en still, en all uv a sudden I says POW! jis' as

loud as I could yell. SHE NEVER BUDGE! Oh, Huck, I bust out a-cryin' en

grab her up in my arms, en say, 'Oh, de po' little thing! De Lord God

Amighty fogive po' ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to fogive hisself as

long's he live!' Oh, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en

dumb--en I'd ben a-treat'n her so!"
CHAPTER XXIV.
NEXT day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow towhead out in

the middle, where there was a village on each side of the river, and the

duke and the king begun to lay out a plan for working them towns. Jim he

spoke to the duke, and said he hoped it wouldn't take but a few hours,

because it got mighty heavy and tiresome to him when he had to lay all

day in the wigwam tied with the rope. You see, when we left him all

alone we had to tie him, because if anybody happened on to him all by

himself and not tied it wouldn't look much like he was a runaway nigger,

you know. So the duke said it WAS kind of hard to have to lay roped all

day, and he'd cipher out some way to get around it.

Jim up in King Lear's outfit--it was a long curtain-calico gown, and a

white horse-hair wig and whiskers; and then he took his theater paint and

painted Jim's face and hands and ears and neck all over a dead, dull,

solid blue, like a man that's been drownded nine days. Blamed if he

warn't the horriblest looking outrage I ever see. Then the duke took and

wrote out a sign on a shingle so:
Sick Arab--but harmless when not out of his head.
And he nailed that shingle to a lath, and stood the lath up four or five

foot in front of the wigwam. Jim was satisfied. He said it was a sight

better than lying tied a couple of years every day, and trembling all

over every time there was a sound. The duke told him to make himself

free and easy, and if anybody ever come meddling around, he must hop out

of the wigwam, and carry on a little, and fetch a howl or two like a wild

beast, and he reckoned they would light out and leave him alone. Which

was sound enough judgment; but you take the average man, and he wouldn't

wait for him to howl. Why, he didn't only look like he was dead, he

looked considerable more than that.

much money in it, but they judged it wouldn't be safe, because maybe the

news might a worked along down by this time. They couldn't hit no

project that suited exactly; so at last the duke said he reckoned he'd

lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if he couldn't put up

something on the Arkansaw village; and the king he allowed he would drop

over to t'other village without any plan, but just trust in Providence to

lead him the profitable way--meaning the devil, I reckon. We had all

bought store clothes where we stopped last; and now the king put his'n

on, and he told me to put mine on. I done it, of course. The king's

duds was all black, and he did look real swell and starchy. I never

knowed how clothes could change a body before. Why, before, he looked

like the orneriest old rip that ever was; but now, when he'd take off his

new white beaver and make a bow and do a smile, he looked that grand and

good and pious that you'd say he had walked right out of the ark, and

maybe was old Leviticus himself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I got my

paddle ready. There was a big steamboat laying at the shore away up

under the point, about three mile above the town--been there a couple

of hours, taking on freight. Says the king:
"Seein' how I'm dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St.

Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat,

Huckleberry; we'll come down to the village on her."
I didn't have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I

fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting

along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice

innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat

off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of

big carpet-bags by him.