马克·吐温短篇小说精选(中文导读英文版)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：王勋,纪飞,（美）马克·吐温

出版社：清华大学出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

马克·吐温短篇小说精选(中文导读英文版)试读：

前言

马克·吐温（Mark Twain，1835-1910），近代美国著名作家，被誉为“美国文学界的林肯”、“美国文学之父”。原名塞缪尔·朗荷恩·克列门斯，马克·吐温是他的笔名。马克·吐温1835年11月30日出生于美国密西西比河畔小城汉尼拔一个贫穷的律师家庭，从小离家独立谋生，当过排字工人、密西西比河水手、士兵和记者，还从事过木材、矿产和出版等行业的工作，但他最出色的工作是从事文学创作。

马克·吐温一生著作颇丰，代表作有《汤姆·索亚历险记》、《哈克贝利·费恩历险记》、《竞选州长》、《百万英镑》等。他的创作大致可分为三个时期：早期作品表现了对美国民主所存的幻想，以短篇为主，幽默与讽刺结合，如短篇小说《竞选州长》、《哥尔斯密的朋友再度出洋》等；中期作品以长篇小说为主，讽刺性加强，如《镀金时代》、《哈克贝利·费恩历险记》及《傻瓜威尔逊》等；后期作品则由幽默讽刺转到愤怒的揭发、谴责，甚至带有悲观的情绪，如《赤道环行记》、《败坏了哈德莱堡的人》、《神秘来客》等。他的作品对后来的美国文学产生了深远的影响，人们普遍认为马克·吐温是美国文学史上里程碑式的人物。他的主要作品大多已有中文译本。

本书精选了马克·吐温的20篇短篇小说，采用中文导读英文版的形式出版。在中文导读中，我们尽力使其贴近原作的精髓，也尽可能保留原作的故事主线。我们希望能够编出为当代中国读者所喜爱的经典读本。读者在阅读英文故事之前，可以先阅读中文导读内容，这样有利于了解故事背景，从而加快阅读速度。我们相信，该经典著作的引进对加强当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者的人文修养是非常有帮助的。

本书主要内容由王勋、纪飞编译。参加本书故事素材搜集整理及编译工作的还有郑佳、刘乃亚、赵雪、熊金玉、李丽秀、熊红华、王婷婷、孟宪行、胡国平、李晓红、贡东兴、陈楠、邵舒丽、冯洁、王业伟、徐鑫、王晓旭、周丽萍、熊建国、徐平国、肖洁、王小红等。限于我们的科学、人文素养和英语水平，书中难免会有不当之处，衷心希望读者朋友批评指正。卡拉韦勒斯郡的著名跳蛙　The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County导读

应一个朋友的请求，我拜访了性情温和善良的西蒙·韦勒，向他打听朋友的朋友莱昂尼达斯·斯麦利的一些事情。以下所讲的，便是这次拜访的结果。

我来到安杰尔矿区，在一家破旧不堪的酒吧的一个角落里发现了西蒙·韦勒，他是一个身体肥胖、秃顶、面容安详而质朴的老头。我向他说明了来意，告诉他我来打听莱昂尼达斯·斯麦利神父的一些事情。西蒙一听到“斯麦利”，立刻就陷入了对吉姆·斯麦利的回忆之中。于是，他开始一本正经地跟我谈起吉姆·斯麦利的往事。

吉姆·斯麦利是这个矿区上出了名的赌棍，他总能想方设法地同别人来打赌，无论什么事情，只要有人敢赌，他就奉陪。赛马、斗狗、斗鸡全不在话下，甚至篱笆上停落的鸟儿哪只先飞，一只屎壳郎要走多久才能到达目的地，他都会和别人赌上一把。而且他的运气出奇的好，十之八九总能获胜。

斯麦利养了一匹母马，身体羸弱、疾病缠身，人们戏称为‘一刻钟的驽马’。然而就是这匹驽马，为斯麦利赚了不少钱。在比赛中，人们总让斯麦利的马先跑两三百码，这匹驽马利用先跑的优势，在临近终点时拼命加速，总是比其他的赛马提前一步到达终点。

斯麦利还有一只叫安德鲁·杰克逊的小斗犬，平时一副灰溜溜的神情，可一到斗狗场上，转瞬间便脱胎换骨，精神抖擞、龇牙咧嘴、眼露凶光。它的绝招就是一口上去，死死咬住对手的后腿关节，直到对手屈服才松口。小斗犬的这一绝招，屡试不爽。直到有一天，碰到一只没有后腿的对手，当安德鲁像往常一样一口扑上去时，发现上当了。这成了安德鲁的最后一场比赛，比赛刚结束，这只可怜的小斗犬就死了。“斯麦利曾经逮到过一只青蛙，他用了三个月的时间，没日没夜地训练这只名叫丹尼尔·韦伯斯特的蛙跳跃、翻筋斗、捉苍蝇，卡拉韦勒斯郡没有一只青蛙比丹尼尔跳得高。斯麦利带着丹尼尔到处找人打赌，赚了不少钱。一天，矿区来了一个外乡人，不巧遇到了斯麦利提着青蛙笼子散步。斯麦利拉住人家，非得要和这个外乡人赌这只青蛙是否是卡拉韦勒斯郡蹦得最高的跳蛙。在斯麦利代劳外乡人去田地捉青蛙的空当儿，这个外乡人给丹尼尔灌了一肚子打鸟用的铁砂。丹尼尔像钉在砧板上一般，动弹不得，比赛结果可想而知。当斯麦利意识到受骗时，外乡人早已无影无踪。”

西蒙没完没了地向我絮叨吉姆·斯麦利的陈年往事，我毫无兴趣，而且与我所要了解的莱昂尼达斯·斯麦利毫无关系。于是，我逮了个机会，匆匆离去。一八六五年n compliance with the request of a friend of mine,who wrote me from the East,I called on good-natured,garrulous old Simon Wheeler,and Iinquired after my friend’s friend,Leonidas W.Smiley,as requested to do,and I hereunto append the result.I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas W.Smiley is a myth；that my friend never knew such a personage；and that he only conjectured that if I asked old Wheeler about him,it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley,and he would go to work and bore me to death with some exasperating reminiscence of him as long and as tedious as it should be useless to me.If that was the design,it succeeded.

I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the barroom stove of the dilapidated tavern in the decayed mining camp Angel’s,and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed,and had an expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance.He roused up,and gave me good day.I told him that a friend of mine had commissioned me to make some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named Leonidas W.Smiley-Rev.Leonidas W.Smiley,a young minister of the Gospel,who he had heard was atone time resident of Angel’s Camp.I added that if Mr.Wheeler could tell me anything about this Rev.Leonidas W.Smiley,I would feel under many obligations to him.

Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his chair,and then sat down and reeled off the monotonous narrative which follows this paragraph.He never smiled,he never frowned,he never changed his voice from the gentle flowing key to which he tuned his initial sentence,he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm；but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein of impressive earnestness and sincerity,which showed me plainly that,so far from his imagining that there was anything ridiculous or funny about his story,he regarded it as a really important matter,and admired its two heroes as men of transcendent genius in‘finesse.’I let him go on in his own way,and never interrupted him once.

Rev.Leonidas W.H’m,Reverend Le-well,there was a feller here,once by the name of Jim Smiley,in the winter of’49—or maybe it was the spring of’50—I don’t recollect exactly,somehow,though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I remember the big flume warn’t finished when he first come to the camp；but anyway,he was the curiousest man about always betting on anything that turned up you ever see,if he could get anybody to bet on the other side；and if he couldn’t he’d change sides.Any way that suited the other man would suit him-any way just so’s he got a bet,he was satisfied.But still he was lucky,uncommon lucky；he most always come out winner.He was always ready and laying for a chance；there couldn’t be no solit’ry thing mentioned but that feller’d offer to bet on it,and take any side you please,as I was just telling you.If there was a horse-race,you’d find him flush or you’d find him busted at the end of it；if there was a dog-fight,he’d bet on it；if there was a cat-fight,he’d bet on it；if there was a chicken-fight,he’d bet on it；why,if there was two birds setting on a fence,he would bet you which one would fly first；or if there was a camp-meeting,he would be there reg’lar to bet on Parson Walker,which he judged to be the best exhorter about here,and so he was too,and a good man.If he even see a straddle-bug start to go anywheres,he would bet you how long it would take him to get to-to wherever he was going to,and if you took him up,he would foller that straddle-bug to Mexico but whathe would find out where he was bound for and how long he was on the road.Lots of the boys here has seen that Smiley,and can tell you about him.Why,it never made no difference to him-he’d bet on any thing-the dangdest feller.Parson Walker’s wife laid very sick once,for a good while,and it seemed as if they warn’t going to save her；but one morning he come in,and Smiley up and asked him how she was,and he said she was considerable better-thank the Lord for his inf’nite mercy-and coming on so smart that with the blessing of Prov’dence she’d get well yet；and Smiley,before he thought,says，‘Well,I’ll resk two-and-a-half she don’t any-way.’

“Thish-yer Smiley had a mare-the boys called her the fifteen-minute nag,but that was only in fun,you know,because of course she was faster than that-and he used to win money on that horse,for all she was so slow and always had the asthma,or the distemper,or the consumption,or something of that kind.They used to give her two or three hundred yards’start,and then pass her under way；but always at the fag end of the race she get excited and desperate like,and come cavorting and straddling up,and scattering her legs around limber,sometimes in the air,and sometimes out to one side among the fences,and kicking up m-o-r-e dust and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing and blowing her nose-and always fetch up at the stand just about a neck ahead,as near as you could cipher it down.

“And he had a little small bull-pup,that to look at him you’d think he warn’t worth a cent but to set around and look ornery and lay for a chance to steal something.But as soon as money was up on him he was a different dog；his under-jaw’d begin to stick out like the fo’castle of a steamboat,and his teeth would uncover and shine like the furnaces.And a dog might tackle him and bully-rag him,and bite him,and throw him over his shoulder two or three times,and Andrew Jackson-which was the name of the pup-Andrew Jackson would never let on but what he was satisfied,and hadn’t expected nothing else-and the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time,till the money was all up；and then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog jest by the j’int of his hind leg and freeze to it-not chaw,you understand,but only just grip and hang on till they throwed up the sponge,if it was a year.Smiley always come out winner on that pup,till he harnessed a dogonce that didn’t have no hind legs,because they’d been sawed off in a circular saw,and when the thing had gone along far enough,and the money was all up,and he come to make a snatch for his pet holt,he see in a minute how he’d been imposed on,and how the other dog had him in the door,so to speak,and he’peared surprised,and then he looked sorter discouraged-like and didn’t try no more to win the fight,and so he got shucked out bad.He give Smiley a look,as much as to say his heart was broke,and it was his fault,for putting up a dog that hadn’t no hind legs for him to take holt of,which was his main dependence in a fight,and then he limped off a piece and laid down and died.It was a good pup,was that Andrew Jackson,and would have made a name for himself if he’d lived,for the stuff was in him and he had genius-I know it,because he hadn’t no opportunities to speak of,and it don’t stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight as he could under them circumstances if he hadn’t no talent.It always makes me feel sorry when I think of that last fight of his’n,and the way it turned out.

“Well,thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers,and chicken cocks,and tomcats and all them kind of things,till you couldn’t rest,and you couldn’t fetch nothing for him to bet on but he’d match you.He ketched a frog one day,and took him home,and said he cal’lated to educate him；and so he never done nothing for three months but set in his back yard and learn that frog to jump.And you bet you he did learn him,too.He’d give him a little punch behind,and the next minute you’d see that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut-see him turn one summerset,or maybe a couple,if he got a good start,and come down flat-footed and all right,like a cat.He got him up so in the matter of ketching flies,and kep’him in practice so constant,that he’d nail a fly every time as fur as he could see him.Smiley said all a frog wanted was education,and he could do’most anything-and I believe him.Why,I’ve seen him set Dan’l Webster down here on this floor-Dan’l Webster was the name of the frog-and sing out，‘Flies,Dan’l,flies！’and quicker’n you could wink he’d spring straight up and snake a fly off’n the counter there,and flop down on the floor ag’in as solid as a gob of mud,and fall to scratching the side of his head with his hind foot as indifferent as if he hadn’t no idea he’d been doin’any more’n any frog might do.You never see a frog so modest and straightfor’ardas he was,for all he was so gifted.And when it come to fair and square jumping on a dead level,he could get over more ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see.Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit,you understand；and when it come to that,Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red.Smiley was monstrous proud of his frog,and well he might be,for fellers that had traveled and been everywheres all said he laid over any frog that ever they see.

“Well,Smiley kep’the beast in a little lattice box,and he used to fetch him down-town sometimes and lay for a bet.One day a feller-a stranger in the camp,he was-come acrost him with his box,and says：

“‘What might it be that you’ve got in the box？’

“And Smiley says,sorter indifferent-like，‘It might be a parrot,or it might be a canary,maybe,but it ain’t-it’s only just a frog.’

“And the feller took it,and looked at it careful,and turned it round this way and that,and says，‘H’m-so’tis.well,what’s HE good for？

“‘Well，’Smiley says,easy and careless，‘he’s good enough for one thing,I should judge-he can outjump any frog in Calaveras County.’

“The feller took the box again,and took another long,particular look,and give it back to Smilcy,and says,very deliberate，‘Well，’he says，‘I don’t see no pints about that frog that’s any better’n any other frog.’

“‘Maybe you don’t，’Smiley says.‘Maybe you understand frogs and maybe you don’t understand’em；maybe you’ve had experience,and maybe you ain’t only an amature,as it were.Anyways,I’ve got my opinion,and I’ll resk forty dollars that he can outjump any frog in Calaveras County.’

“And the feller studied a minute,and then says,kinder sad-like，‘Well,I’m only a stranger here,and I ain’t got no frog；but if I had a frog,I’d bet you.’

“And then Smiley says，‘That’s all right-that’s all right-if you’ll hold my box a minute,I’ll go and get you a frog.’And so the feller took the box,and put up his forty dollars along with Smiley’s,and set down to wait.

“So he set there a good while thinking and thinking to himself and then he got the frog out and prized his mouth open and took a teaspoon and filled him full of quail-shot-filled him pretty near up to his chin-and set him on thefloor.Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in the mud for a long time,and finally he ketched a frog,and fetched him in,and give him to this feller and says：

“‘Now,if you’re ready,set him alongside of Dan’l,with his fore paws just even with Dan’l’s,and I’ll give the word.’Then he says，‘One-two-three-git！’and him and the feller touches up the frogs from behind,and the new frog hopped off lively but Dan’l give a heave,and hysted up his shoulders-so like a Frenchman,but it warn’t no use-he couldn’t budge；he was planted as solid as a church,and he couldn’t no more stir than if he was anchored out.Smiley was a good deal surprised,and he was disgusted too,but he didn’t have no idea what the matter was of course.

“The feller took the money and started away；and when he was going out at the door,he sorter jerked his thumb over his shoulder-so-at Dan’l,and says again,very deliberate，‘Well，’he says，‘I don’t see no p’ints about that frog that’s any better’n any other frog.’

“Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Dan’l a long time,and at last he says，‘I do wonder what in the nation that frog throw’d off for-I wonder if there ain’t something the matter with him-he’pears to look mighty baggy,somehow.’And he ketched Dan’l by the nap of the neck,and hefted him,and says，‘Why blame my cats if he don’t weigh five pound！’and turned him upside down and he belched out a double handful of shot.And then he see how it was,and he was the maddest man-he set the frog down and took out after that feller,but he never ketched him.And—”

[Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard,and got up to see what was wanted.]And turning to me as he moved away,he said：“Just set where you are,stranger,and rest easy-I ain’t going to be gone a second.”

But,by your leave,I did not think that a continuation of the history of the enterprising vagabond Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much information concerning the Rev.Leonidas W.Smiley,and so I started away.

At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning,and he buttonholed meand recommenced：

“Well,thish-yer Smiley had a yaller one-eyed cow that didn’t have no tail,only just a short stump like a bannanner,and—”

However,lacking both time and inclination,I did not wait to hear about the afflicted cow,but took my leave.[Written about 1865]坏小孩的故事　The Story of the Bad Little Boy导读

有个坏孩子，名叫吉姆。和主日学校课本中坏孩子的名字几乎都叫詹姆斯不同，吉姆没有一位笃信上帝、身罹重病、对儿子宠爱有加的母亲，相反，吉姆的母亲对吉姆非打即骂，毫无怜悯之情。当吉姆做坏事时，他的母亲也不是动之以情、晓之以理地耐心劝诱，而是臭揍他一顿。这一切都和课本中坏孩子的境遇迥然不同。

吉姆到农场偷吃苹果，不会因为树枝折断而掉下树来，或者被看园狗咬伤而卧病数周，然后幡然醒悟。他能够随心所欲地偷吃苹果，还有办法对付凶恶的看园狗。这都和主日学校课本中所写的内容大相径庭。

一次，吉姆偷了老师的削笔刀，悄悄地塞进好学生乔治·威尔森的帽子里。结果威尔森受到了严厉的处罚，而吉姆则安然无事。主日学校的课本上则往往会写到：受冤枉的好学生遇到一位好心的法官为他辩护并且惩罚了坏孩子。

吉姆礼拜天去划船不会被淹死，去钓鱼虽然遇到暴风雨却不会遭雷劈，这些奇怪的现象在主日学校课本中是绝对不会出现的。吉姆还总能逢凶化吉，没有一件事情能伤害到他。当他浪迹天涯，回归故里时，也没有一丝悲凉、孤寂的情绪。

吉姆成年后，结婚生子，但习性不改。一天，他杀死了全家。后来他利用各种欺蒙拐骗的卑劣手段发了横财，成为一个十足的流氓无赖。然而，吉姆没有受到上帝的惩罚，反而成为州议会议员，备受尊重。

这就是坏孩子吉姆的故事，主日学校课本中的坏孩子詹姆斯绝对不会有吉姆这样的好运气。nce there was a bad little boy whose name was Jim-though,if you will notice,you will find that bad little boys are nearly always Ocalled James in your Sunday-school books.It was strange,but still it was true,that this one was called Jim.

He didn’t have any sick mother,either-a sick mother who was pious and had the consumption,and would be glad to lie down in the grave and be at rest but for the strong love she bore her boy,and the anxiety she felt that the world might be harsh and cold toward him when she was gone.Most bad boys in the Sunday books are named James,and have sick mothers,who teach them to say，“Now,I lay me down，”etc.，and sing them to sleep with sweet,plaintive voices,and then kiss them good night,and kneel down by the bedside and weep.But it was different with this fellow.He was named Jim,and there wasn’t anything the matter with his mother-no consumption,nor anything of that kind.She was rather stout than otherwise,and she was not pious；moreover,she was not anxious on Jim’s account.She said if he were to break his neck it wouldn’t be much loss.She always spanked Jim to sleep,and she never kissed him good night；on the contrary,she boxed his ears when she was ready to leave him.

Once this little bad boy stole the key of the pantry,and slipped in there and helped himself to some jam,and filled up the vessel with tar,so that his mother would never know the difference；but all at once a terrible feeling didn’t come over him,and something didn’t seem to whisper to him，“Is it right to disobey my mother？Isn’t it sinful to do this？Where do bad little boys go who gobble up their good kind mother’s jam？”and then he didn’t kneel down all alone and promise never to be wicked any more,and rise up with a light,happy heart,and go and tell his mother all about it,and beg her forgiveness,and be blessed by her with tears of pride and thankfulness in her eyes.No；that is the way with all other bad boys in the books；but it happened otherwise with this Jim,strangely enough.He ate that jam,and said it was bully,in his sinful,vulgar way；and heput in the tar,and said that was bully also,and laughed,and observed“that the old woman would get up and snort”when she found it out；and when she did find it out,he denied knowing anything about it,and she whipped him severely,and he did the crying himself.Everything about this boy was curious-everything turned out differently with him from the way it does to the bad Jameses in the books.

Once he climbed up in Farmer Acorn’s apple tree to steal apples,and the limb didn’t break,and he didn’t fall and break his arm,and get torn by the farmer’s great dog,and then languish on a sickbed for weeks,and repent and become good.Oh,no；he stole as many apples as he wanted and came down all right；and he was all ready for the dog,too,and knocked him endways with a brick when he came to tear him.It was very strange-nothing like it ever happened in those mild little books with marbled backs,and with pictures in them of men with swallow-tailed coats and bell-crowned hats,and pantaloons that are short in the legs,and women with the waists of their dresses under their arms,and no hoops on.Nothing like it in any of the Sunday-school books.

Once he stole the teacher’s penknife,and,when he was afraid it would be found out and he would get whipped,he slipped it into George Wilson’s cap；poor Widow Wilson’s son,the moral boy,the good little boy of the village,who always obeyed his mother,and never told an untruth,and was fond of his lessons,and infatuated with Sunday-school.And when the knife dropped from the cap,and poor George hung his head and blushed,as if in conscious guilt,and the grieved teacher charged the theft upon him,and was just in the very act of bringing the switch down upon his trembling shoulders,a white-haired,improbable justice of the peace did not suddenly appear in their midst,and strike an attitude and say，“Spare this noble boy-there stands the cowering culprit！I was passing the school door at recess,and,unseen myself,I saw the theft committed！”And then Jim didn’t get whaled,and the venerable justice didn’t read the tearful school a homily,and take George by the hand and say such a boy deserved to be exalted,and then tell him come and make his home with him,and sweep out the office,and make fires,and run errands,and chopwood,and study law,and help his wife do household labors,and have all the balance of the time to play and get forty cents a month,and be happy.No it would have happened that way in the books,but didn’t happen that way to Jim.No meddling old clam of a justice dropped in to make trouble,and so the model boy George got thrashed,and Jim was glad of it because,you know,Jim hated moral boys.Jim said he was“down on them milksops.”Such was the coarse language of this bad,neglected boy.

But the strangest thing that ever happened to Jim was the time he went boating on Sunday,and didn’t get drowned,and that other time that he got caught out in the storm when he was fishing on Sunday and didn’t get struck by lightning.Why,you might look,and look,all through the Sunday-school books from now till next Christmas,and you would never come across anything like this.Oh,no；you would find that all the bad boys who go boating on Sunday invariably get drowned；and all the bad boys who get caught out in storms when they are fishing on Sunday infallibly get struck by lightning.Boats with bad boys in them always upset on Sunday,and it always storms when bad boys go fishing on the Sabbath.How this Jim ever escaped is a mystery to me.

This Jim bore a charmed life-that must have been the way of it.Nothing could hurt him.He even gave the elephant in the menagerie a plug of tobacco,and the elephant didn’t knock the top of his head off with his trunk.He browsed around the cupboard after essence of peppermint,and didn’t make a mistake and drink aqua fortis.He stole his father’s gun and went hunting on the Sabbath,and didn’t shoot three or four of his fingers off.He struck his little sister on the temple with his fist when he was angry,and she didn’t linger in pain through long summer days,and die with sweet words of forgiveness upon her lips that redoubled the anguish of his breaking heart.No；she got over it.He ran off and went to sea at last,and didn’t come back and find himself sad and alone in the world,his loved ones sleeping in the quiet churchyard,and the vine-embowered home of his boyhood tumbled down and gone to decay.Ah,no；he came home as drunk as a piper,and got into the station-house the first thing.

And he grew up and married,and raised a large family,and brained them all with an ax one night,and got wealthy by all manner of cheating and rascality；and now he is the infernalest wickedest scoundrel in his native village,and is universally respected,and belongs to the legislature.

So you see there never was a bad James in the Sundayschool books that had such a streak of luck as this sinful Jim with the charmed life.[Written about 1865]关于最近我辞职的真相　The Facts Concerning the Recent Resignation导读

我原来是参议院贝类学委员会的文书，现在我辞职了。我感觉其他公务员都想排挤我，不让我参与商讨国家大事，而且没有给我应有的待遇。

出于职责所在，我常常跑去纠正某些部门领导干部的错误，但往往被臭骂一顿，败兴而归。

我曾经很诚挚地建议海军部长，让法拉古特海军上将从欧洲战场撤回。他在那里无所事事、悠闲散漫，更像是去旅游而不是去打仗。带着一只舰队在外郊游实在是一件很奢靡的事情。海军部长听完，勃然大怒，不仅没有对我的建议有丝毫的谢意，反而对我大吼大叫。他像一头发怒的狮子般把我赶出了办公室，并且警告我以后只许管我的分内之事。

之后，我又去拜见了参谋部长。关于他对平原印第安人的作战方式，我提出了自己的见解。我觉得他应当集中兵力，选择有利地形将印第安人一举歼灭；或者对其采取贿赂和教育的方针，虽不如全歼来得迅速，但是效果更为长久。结果，参谋部长以藐视法庭罪将我逮捕，关押了一天。

这两件事情之后，我本来想缄口不言，但是使命感叫我对领导干部的错误不能坐视不管。于是，我又拜访了财政部长，我指出他的工作报告太冗长、太枯燥，我建议他在以后的报告中插入一些谜语，那样一定会受到欢迎。财政部长听罢，大发雷霆，直骂我是蠢驴。

在担任公务员的六天里，我只参与过一次内阁会议，而且备受冷落与歧视。起初是看门卫兵十分不情愿我进入会场；进入会场之后，所有人都用一种陌生异样的眼光注视我。海军部长、参谋部长和财政部长尽情数落我的罪行；之后，国务卿用还算温和的口吻说我没有资格参与内阁会议，并我把赶出了会场。

当我回到办公室时，贝类学委员会的一位议员要我抄写一份关于各种壳类动物的文件。当即，我就决定辞职，为了每天六美元的薪金来做这些琐碎的事情，实在有损我的自尊。我呈递辞职信的同时，也递上了一份报酬清单，包括三位部长的咨询费、往返耶路撒冷的路费以及六天的薪金，结果除了三十六美元的薪金外，其他的费用都被财政部长批示以“不准”的字样。

就这样，我离开了参议院文书的岗位，但是还有好多各种部门的文书在为国家勤苦工作着。他们不知道内阁会议什么时候召开，从来没有被高层咨询过，他们每天所做的净是些剪报类的鸡零狗碎之事，而薪金也许还没有我多。华盛顿　一八六七年十二月 have resigned.The government appears to go on much the same,but there is a spoke out of its wheel,nevertheless.I was clerk of Ithe Senate Committee on Conchology,and I have thrown up the position.I could see the plainest disposition on the part of the other members of the government to debar me from having any voice in the counsels of the nation,and so I could no longer hold office and retain my self-respect.If I were to detail all the outrages that were heaped upon me during the six days that I was connected with the government in an official capacity,the narrative would fill a volume.They appointed me clerk of that Committee on Conchology and then allowed me no amanuensis to play billiards with.I would have borne that,lonesome as it was,if I had met with that courtesy from the other members of the Cabinet which was my due.But I did not.Whenever I observed that the head of a department was pursuing a wrong course,I laid down everything and went and tried to set him right,as it was my duty to do；and I never was thanked for it in a single instance.I went,with the best intentions in the world,to the Secretary of the Navy,and said：

“Sir,I cannot see that Admiral Farragut is doing anything but skirmishingaround there in Europe,having a sort of picnic.Now,that may be all very well,but it does not exhibit itself to me in that light.If there is no fighting for him to do,let him come home.There is no use in a man having a whole fleet for a pleasure excursion.It is too expensive.Mind,I do not object to pleasure excursions for the naval officers-pleasure excursions that are in reason-pleasure excursions that are economical.Now,they might go down the Mississippi on a raft—”

You ought to have heard him storm！One would have supposed I had committed a crime of some kind.But I didn’t mind.I said it was cheap,and full of republican simplicity,and perfectly safe.I said that,for a tranquil pleasure excursion,there was nothing equal to a raft.

Then the Secretary of the Navy asked me who I was；and when I told him I was connected with the government,he wanted to know in what capacity.I said that,without remarking upon the singularity of such a question,coming,as it did,from a member of that same government,I would inform him that I was clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology.Then there was a fine storm！He finished by ordering me to leave the premises,and giving my attention strictly to my own business in future.My first impulse was to get him removed.However,that would harm others besides himself,and do me no real good,and so I let him stay.

I went next to the Secretary of War,who was not inclined to see me at all until he learned that I was connected with the government.If I had not been on important business,I suppose I could not have got in.I asked him for a light（he was smoking at the time），and then I told him I had no fault to find with his defending the parole stipulations of General Lee and his comrades in arms,but that I could not approve of his method of fighting the Indians on the Plains.I said he fought too scattering.He ought to get the Indians more together-get them together in some convenient place,where he could have provisions enough for both parties,and then have a general massacre.I said there was nothing so convincing to an Indian as a general massacre.If he could not approve of the massacre,I said the next surest thing for an Indian was soap andeducation.Soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre,but they are more deadly in the long run；because a half-massacred Indian may recover,but if you educate him and wash him,it is bound to finish him some time or other.It undermines his constitution；it strikes at the foundation of his being.“Sir，”I said，“the time has come when blood-curdling cruelty has become necessary.Inflict soap and a spelling-book on every Indian that ravages the Plains,and let them die！”

The Secretary of War asked me if I was a member of the Cabinet,and I said I was.He inquired what position I held,and I said I was clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology.I was then ordered under arrest for contempt of court,and restrained of my liberty for the best part of the day.

I almost resolved to be silent thenceforward,and let the government get along the best way it could.But duty called,and I obeyed.I called on the Secretary of the Treasury.He said：

“What will you have？”

The question threw me off my guard.I said，“Rum punch.”

He said：“If you have got any business here,sir,state it-and in as few words as possible.”

I then said that I was sorry he had seen fit to change the subject so abruptly,because such conduct was very offensive to me；but under the circumstances I would overlook the matter and come to the point.I now went into an earnest expostulation with him upon the extravagant length of his report.I said it was expensive,unnecessary,and awkwardly constructed；there were no descriptive passages in it,no poetry,no sentiment no heroes,no plot,no pictures-not even wood-cuts.Nobody would read it,that was a clear case.I urged him not to ruin his reputation by getting out a thing like that.If he ever hoped to succeed in literature he must throw more variety into his writings.He must beware of dry detail.I said that the main popularity of the almanac was derived from its poetry and conundrums,and that a few conundrums distributed around through his Treasury report would help the sale of it more than all the internal revenue he could put into it.I said these things in the kindest spirit,and yet theSecretary of the Treasury fell into a violent passion.He even said I was an ass.He abused me in the most vindictive manner,and said that if I came there again meddling with his business he would throw me out of the window.I said I would take my hat and go,if I could not be treated with the respect due.to my office,and I did go.It was just like a new author.They always think they know more than anybody else when they are getting out their first book.Nobody can tell them anything.

During the whole time that I was connected with the government it seemed as if I could not do anything in an official capacity without getting myself into trouble.And yet I did nothing,attempted nothing,but what I conceived to be for the good of my country.The sting of my wrongs may have driven me to unjust and harmful conclusions,but it surely seemed to me that the Secretary of State,the Secretary of War,the Secretary of the Treasury,and others of my confreres had conspired from the very beginning to drive me from the administration.I never attended but one Cabinet meeting while I was connected with the government.That was sufficient for me.The servant at the White House door did not seem disposed to make way for me until I asked if the other members of the Cabinet had arrived.He said they had,and I entered.They were all there；but nobody offered me a seat.They stared at me as if I had been an intruder.The President said：

“Well,sir,who are you？”

I handed him my card,and he read：“The HON.MARK TWAIN,Clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology.”Then he looked at me from head to foot,as if he had never heard of me before.

The Secretary of the Treasury said：“This is the meddlesome ass that came to recommend me to put poetry and conundrums in my report,as if it were an almanac.”

The Secretary of War said：“It is the same visionary that came to me yesterday with a scheme to educate a portion of the Indians to death,and massacre the balance.”

The Secretary of the Navy said：“I recognize this youth as the person whohas been interfering with my business time and again during the week.He is distressed about Admiral Farragut’s using a whole fleet for a pleasure excursion,as he terms it.His proposition about some insane pleasure excursion on a raft is too absurd to repeat.”

I said：“Gentlemen,I perceive here a disposition to throw discredit upon every act of my official career；I perceive,also,a disposition to debar me from all voice in the counsels of the nation.No notice whatever was sent to me to day.It was only by the merest chance that I learned that there was going to be a Cabinet meeting.But let these things pass.All I wish to know is,is this a Cabinet meeting or is it not？”

The President said it was.

“Then，”I said，“let us proceed to business at once,and not fritter away valuable time in unbecoming fault-findings with each other’s official conduct.”

The Secretary of State now spoke up,in his benignant way,and said，“Young man,you are laboring under a mistake.The clerks of the Congressional committees are not members of the Cabinet.Neither are the doorkeepers of the Capitol,strange as it may seem.Therefore,much as we could desire your more-than-human wisdom in our deliberations,we cannot lawfully avail ourselves of it.The counsels of the nation must proceed without you；if disaster follows,as follow full well it may,be it balm to your sorrowing spirit that by deed and voice you did what in you lay to avert it.You have my blessing.Farewell.”

These gentle words soothed my troubled breast,and I went away.But the servants of a nation can know no peace.I had hardly reached my den in the Capitol,and disposed my feet on the table like a representative,when one of the Senators on the Conchological Committee came in in a passion and said：

“Where have you been all day？”

I observed that,if that was anybody’s affair but my own,I had been to a Cabinet meeting.

“To a Cabinet meeting？I would like to know what business you had at a Cabinet meeting？”

I said I went there to consult-allowing for the sake of argument that he was in any wise concerned in the matter.He grew insolent then,and ended by saying he had wanted me for three days past to copy a report on bomb-shells,egg-shells,clamshells,and I don’t know what all,connected with conchology,and nobody had been able to find me.

This was too much.This was the feather that broke the clerical camel’s back.I said，“Sir,do you suppose that I am going to work for six dollars a day？If that is the idea,let me recommend the Senate Committee on Conchology to hire somebody else.I am the slave of no faction！Take back your degrading commission.Give me liberty,or give me death！”

From that hour I was no longer connected with the government.Snubbed by the department,snubbed by the Cabinet,snubbed at last by the chairman of a committee I was endeavoring to adorn,I yielded to persecution,cast far from me the perils and seductions of my great office,and forsook my bleeding country in the hour of her peril.

But I had done the state some service,and I sent in my bill：

The United States of America in account with.

the Hon.Clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology,Dr.

To consultation with Secretary of War……$50

To consultation with Secretary of Navy……$50

To consultation with Secretary of the Treasury……$50

Cabinet consultation……No charge.

To mileage to and from Jerusalem.

via Egypt,Algiers,Gibraltar,and Cadiz，14，000 miles,at 20c.a mile……$2，800

To salary as Clerk of Senate Committee.

on Conchology,six days,at$6 per day……$36

Total……$2，986

[Territorial delegates charge mileage both ways,although they never goback when they get here once.Why my mileage is denied me is more than I can understand.]

Not an item of this bill has been paid,except that trifle of thirty-six dollars for clerkship salary.The Secretary of the Treasury,pursuing me to the last,drew his pen through all the other items,and simply marked in the margin“Not allowed.”So,the dread alternative is embraced at last.Repudiation has begun！The nation is lost.

I am done with official life for the present.Let those clerks who are willing to be imposed on remain.I know numbers of them in the departments who are never informed when there is to be a Cabinet meeting,whose advice is never asked about war,or finance,or commerce,by the heads of the nation,any more than if they were not connected with the government,and who actually stay in their offices day after day and work！They know their importance to the nation,and they unconsciously show it in their bearing,and the way they order their sustenance at the restaurant-but they work.I know one who has to paste all sorts of little scraps from the newspapers into a scrapbook-sometimes as many as eight or ten scraps a day.He doesn’t do it well,but he does it as well as he can.It is very fatiguing.It is exhausting to the intellect.Yet he only gets eighteen hundred dollars a year.With a brain like his,that young man could amass thousands and thousands of dollars in some other pursuit,if he chose to do it.But no-his heart is with his country,and he will serve her as long as she has got a scrapbook left.And I know clerks that don’t know how to write very well,but such knowledge as they possess they nobly lay at the feet of their country,and toil on and suffer for twenty-five hundred dollars a year.What they write has to be written over again by other clerks sometimes；but when a man has done his best for his country,should his country complain？Then there are clerks that have no clerkships,and are waiting,and waiting,and waiting for a vacancy-waiting patiently for a chance to help their country out-and while they are waiting,they only get barely two thousand dollars a year for it.It is sad it is very,very sad.When a member of Congress has a friend who is gifted,but has no employment wherein his great powers may be brought to bear,heconfers him upon his country,and gives him a clerkship in a department.And there that man has to slave his life out,fighting documents for the benefit of a nation that never thinks of him,never sympathizes with him-and all for two thousand or three thousand dollars a year.When I shall have completed my list of all the clerks in the several departments,with my statement of what they have to do,and what they get for it,you will see that there are not half enough clerks,and that what there are do not get half enough pay.[WASHINGTON,Written about December，1867]列车上的食人惨剧　Cannibalism in the Cars导读

前不久，我去了一趟圣路易斯，在列车上碰到了一位慈眉善目的中年绅士。我俩谈得十分融洽。他对政治非常有兴趣，对参众两院的行径了如指掌。陌生人对我讲述了一段非常离奇的经历。

陌生人的叙述如下：

1853年12月19日，我从圣路易斯搭车前往芝加哥。列车上有24名乘客，大家很快就熟悉了，彼此愉快地交谈着，但是没有人知道，令人恐惧的事马上就要降临了。

列车行驶在没有树木、没有丘壑的广袤荒原上。夜晚十一点钟，天空飘起鹅毛大雪，转瞬间，四下里就变成了白茫茫的一片。雪下得越来越大，一个个大雪堆不断在铁轨上堆积。大约凌晨两点，列车戛然而止，我们被困在冰天雪地之中。人们下车开始清理轨道，但是雪堆堆积的速度远远大于我们清理的速度，而且列车驱动轮的纵向轴在这时折断了。车上什么吃的都没有，这里又前不着村后不着店，所有人都几乎绝望了，只有静静地等待救援队的到来。

就这样，我们艰难地熬过了六天，每个人都已经饥肠辘辘、憔悴不堪，人们心里蕴藏着一个可怕的想法。到了第七天，明尼苏达州的理查德·加斯顿终于将这个想法正式公布出来。即为了解决食物问题，列车上必须有人去死，给其他人充饥。这个建议一经提出，大家都踊跃地提举候选人。为了使事情进行的合乎体统、防止混乱，我们临时组建了一个选举委员会，由主席、秘书、委员等办事员组成，来管理候选人的投票表决事务。

大会首先通过了提举肯塔基州的乔治·弗格逊、路易斯安那州的卢西恩·赫尔曼和科罗拉多州的威·梅斯克先生为候选人。这一提案引起了大家的热议。有人提出用圣路易斯州的卢修斯·哈里斯先生替换赫尔曼先生，因为赫尔曼先生在被困的这一周里掉的肉最多，身体根本没有什么营养；又有人提议由俄勒冈州的哈维·戴维斯来取代梅斯克先生，因为戴维斯块头大、重量足、油水多；但有人提出异议，指出戴维斯虽然块头大，都是骨头架子，实际肉量不多。

结果，以戴维斯取代梅斯克的提案虽然被付诸表决，但是没有通过；而哈里斯取代赫尔曼的提案，经过六次投票，最终被通过了，并且将哈里斯选为今天的晚餐。同时，大会还投票推选了梅斯克当选为明天的早餐。

当天晚上，大家都兴奋极了。哈里斯的肉确实够鲜美、够营养，直到现在，我还能想起那种鲜美的味道来。相比之下，梅斯克的肉粗糙得很，只适合当早餐。

接下来，我们依次选举了以后几天的早晚餐。最后，救援队到了，我随着救援队回了家。”

这时，他到站了，跟我道了别，就下了车。他的故事令我毛骨悚然，尤其是他临走前说他喜欢我就像喜欢哈里斯一样，更令我不寒而栗。之后，列车站长告诉我，这个人曾经是个国会议员，曾经被困在暴风雪的列车中几乎饿死，后来就有些精神失常了。

至此，我才知道这不过是一个疯子的妄言，顿时感到无比轻松。一八六八年visited St.Louis lately,and on my way West,after changing cars at Terre Haute,Indiana,a mild,benevolent-looking gentleman of about Iforty-five,or maybe fifty,came in at one of the way-stations and sat down beside me.We talked together pleasantly on various subjects for an hour,perhaps,and I found him exceedingly intelligent and entertaining.When he learned that I was from Washington,he immediately began to ask questions about various public men,and about Congressional affairs；and I saw very shortly that I was conversing with a man who was perfectly familiar with the ins and outs of political life at the Capital,even to the ways and manners,and customs of procedure ofSenators and Representatives in the Chambers of the National Legislature.Presently two men halted near us for a single moment,and one said to the other：

“Harris,if you’ll do that for me,I’ll never forget you,my boy.”

My new comrade’s eye lighted pleasantly.The words had touched upon a happy memory,I thought.Then his face settled into thoughtfulness-almost into gloom.He turned to me and said，“Let me tell you a story；let me give you a secret chapter of my life-a chapter that has never been referred to by me since its events transpired.Listen patiently,and promise that you will not interrupt me.”

I said I would not,and he related the following strange adventure,speaking sometimes with animation,sometimes with melancholy,but always with feeling and earnestness.

THE STRANGER’S NARRATIVE

“On the 19th of December，1853，I started from St.Louis on the evening train bound for Chicago.There were only twenty-four passengers,all told.There were no ladies and no children.We were in excellent spirits,and pleasant acquaintanceships were soon formed.The journey bade fair to be a happy one；and no individual in the party,I think,had even the vaguest presentiment of the horrors we were soon to undergo.

“At II p.m.it began to snow hard.Shortly after leaving the small village of Welden,we entered upon that tremendous prairie solitude that stretches its leagues on leagues of houseless dreariness far away toward the Jubilee Settlements.The winds,unobstructed by trees or hills,or even vagrant rocks,whistled fiercely across the level desert,driving the falling snow before it like spray from the crested waves of a stormy sea.The snow was deepening fast；and we knew,by the diminished speed of the train,that the engine was plowing through it with steadily increasing difficulty.Indeed,it almost came to a dead halt sometimes,in the midst of great drifts that piled themselves like colossal graves across the track.Conversation began to flag.Cheerfulness gave place to grave concern.The possibility of being imprisoned in the snow,on the bleak prairie,fifty miles from any house,presented itself to every mind,and extended its depressing influence over every spirit.

“At two o’clock in the morning I was aroused out of an uneasy slumber by the ceasing of all motion about me.The appalling truth flashed upon me instantly-we were captives in a snow-drift！‘All hands to the rescue！’Every man sprang to obey.Out into the wild night,the pitchy darkness,the billowy snow,the driving storm,every soul leaped,with the consciousness that a moment lost now might bring destruction to us all.Shovels,hands,boards-anything,everything that could displace snow,was brought into instant requisition.It was a weird picture,that small company of frantic men fighting the banking snows,half in the blackest shadow and half in the angry light of the locomotive’s reflector.

“One short hour sufficed to prove the utter uselessness of our efforts.The storm barricaded the track with a dozen drifts while we dug one away.And worse than this,it was discovered that the last grand charge the engine had made upon the enemy had broken the fore-and-aft shaft of the driving-wheel！With a free track before us we should still have been helpless.We entered the car wearied with labor,and very sorrowful.We gathered about the stoves,and gravely canvassed our situation.We had no provisions whatever-in this lay our chief distress.We could not freeze,for there was a good supply of wood in the tender.This was our only comfort.The discussion ended at last in accepting the disheartening decision of the conductor,viz.，that it would be death for any man to attempt to travel fifty miles on foot through snow like that.We could not send for help,and even if we could it would not come.We must submit,and await,as patiently as we might,succor or starvation！I think the stoutest heart there felt a momentary chill when those words were uttered.

“Within the hour conversation subsided to a low murmur here and there about the car,caught fitfully between the rising and falling of the blast；the lamps grew dim；and the majority of the castaways settled themselves among the flickering shadows to think-to forget the present,if they could-to sleep,if they might.

“The eternal night-it surely seemed eternal to us-wore its lagging hours away at last,and the cold gray dawn broke in the east.As the light grew stronger the passengers began to stir and give signs of life,one after another,and each in turn pushed his slouched hat up from his forehead,stretched hisstiffened limbs,and glanced out of the windows upon the cheerless prospect.It was cheerless,indeed！—not a living thing visible anywhere,not a human habitation；nothing but a vast white desert；uplifted sheets of snow drifting hither and thither before the wind-a world of eddying flakes shutting out the firmament above.

“All day we moped about the cars,saying little,thinking much.Another lingering dreary night-and hunger.

“Another dawning-another day of silence,sadness,wasting hunger,hopeless watching for succor that could not come.A night of restless slumber,filled with dreams of feasting-wakings distressed with the gnawings of hunger.

“The fourth day came and went-and the fifth！Five days of dreadful imprisonment！A savage hunger looked out at every eye.There was in it a sign of awful import-the foreshadowing of a something that was vaguely shaping itself in every heart-a something which no tongue dared yet to frame into words.

“The sixth day passed-the seventh dawned upon as gaunt and haggard and hopeless a company of men as ever stood in the shadow of death.It must out now！That thing which had been growing up in every heart was ready to leap from every lip at last！Nature had been taxed to the utmost-she must yield.RICHARD H.GASTON of Minnesota,tall,cadaverous,and pale,rose up.All knew what was coming.All prepared-every emotion,every semblance of excitement-was smothered-only a calm,thoughtful seriousness appeared in the eyes that were lately so wild.

“‘Gentlemen：It cannot be delayed longer！The time is at hand！We must determine which of us shall die to furnish food for the rest！’

“MR.JOHN J.WILLIAMS of Illinois rose and said：‘Gentlemen-I nominate the Rev.James Sawyer of Tennessee.’

“MR.Win.R.ADAMS of Indiana said：‘I nominate Mr.Daniel Slote of New York.’

“MR.CHARLES J.LANGDON：‘I nominate Mr.Samuel A.Bowen of St.Louis.’

“MR.SLOTE：‘Gentlemen-I desire to decline in favor of Mr.John A.Van Nostrand,Jun.，of New Jersey.’

“MR.GASTON.‘If there be no objection,the gentleman’s desire will be acceded to.’

“MR.VAN NOSTRAND objecting,the resignation of Mr.Slote was rejected.The resignations of Messrs.Sawyer and Bowen were also offered,and refused upon the same grounds.

“MR.A.L.BASCOM of Ohio：‘I move that the nominations now close,and that the House proceed to an election by ballot.’

“MR.SAWYER：‘Gentlemen-I protest earnestly against these proceedings.They are,in every way,irregular and unbecoming.I must beg to move that they be dropped at once,and that we elect a chairman of the meeting and proper officers to assist him,and then we can go on with the business before us understandingly.’

“MR.BELL of Iowa：‘Gentlemen-I object.This is no time to stand upon forms and ceremonious observances.For more than seven days we have been without food.Every moment we lose in idle discussion increases our distress.I am satisfied with the nominations that have been made-every gentleman present is,I believe-and I,for one,do not see why we should not proceed at once to elect one or more of them.I wish to offer a resolution—’

“MR.GASTON：‘It would be objected to,and have to lie over one day under the rules,thus bringing about the very delay you wish to avoid.The gentleman from New Jersey—’

“MR.VAN NOSTRAND：‘Gentlemen-I am a stranger among you；I have not sought the distinction that has been conferred upon me,and I feel a delicacy—’

“MR.MORGAN of Alabama（interrupting）：‘I move the previous question.’

“The motion was carried,and further debate shut off,of course.The motion to elect officers was passed,and under it Mr.Gaston was chosen chairman,Mr.Blake,secretary,Messrs.Holcomb,Dyer,and Baldwin a committee on nominations,and Mr.R.M.Howland,purveyor,to assist the committee in making selections.

“A recess of half an hour was then taken,and some little caucusingfollowed.At the sound of the gavel the meeting reassembled,and the committee reported in favor of Messrs.George Ferguson of Kentucky,Lucien Herrman of Louisiana,and W.Messick of Colorado as candidates.The report was accepted.

“MR.ROGERS of Missouri：‘Mr.President：The report being properly before the House now,I move to amend it by substituting for the name of Mr.Herrman that of Mr.Lucius Harris of St.Louis,who is well and honorably known to us all.I do not wish to be understood as casting the least reflection upon the high character and standing of the gentleman from Louisiana,far from it.I respect and esteem him as much as any gentleman here present possibly can；but none of us can be blind to the fact that he has lost more flesh during the week that we have lain here than any among us-none of us can be blind to the fact that the committee has been derelict in its duty,either through negligence or a graver fault,in thus offering for our suffrages a gentleman who,however pure his own motives may be,has really less nutriment in him—’

“THE CHAIR：‘The gentleman from Missouri will take his seat.The Chair cannot allow the integrity of the committee to be questioned save by the regular course,under the rules.What action will the House take upon the gentleman’s motion？’

“MR.HALLIDAY of Virginia：‘I move to further amend the report by substituting Mr.Harvey Davis of Oregon for Mr.Messick.It may be urged by gentlemen that the hardships and privations of a frontier life have rendered Mr.Davis tough；but,gentlemen,is this a time to cavil at toughness？Is this a time to be fastidious concerning trifles？Is this a time to dispute about matters of paltry significance？No,gentlemen,bulk is what we desire-substance,weight,bulk-these are the supreme requisites now-not talent,not genius,not education.I insist upon my motion.’

“MR.MORGAN（excitedly）：‘Mr.Chairman-I do most strenuously object to this amendment.The gentleman from Oregon is old,and furthermore is bulky only in bone-not in flesh.I ask the gentleman from Virginia if it is soup we want instead of solid sustenance？if he would delude us with shadows？if he would mock our suffering with an Oregonian specter？I ask him if he can look upon the anxious faces around him,if he can gaze intoour sad eyes,if he can listen to the beating of our expectant hearts,and still thrust this faminestricken fraud upon us？I ask him if he can think of our desolate state,of our past sorrows,of our dark future,and still unpityingly foist upon us this wreck,this ruin,this tottering swindle,this gnarled and blighted and sapless vagabond from Oregon’s hospitable shores？Never！’[Applause.]

“The amendment was put to vote,after a fiery debate,and lost.Mr.Harris was substituted on the first amendment.The balloting then began.Five ballots were held without a choice.On the sixth,Mr.Harris was elected,all voting for him but himself.It was then moved that his election should be ratified by acclamation,which was lost,in consequence of his again voting against himself.

“MR.RADWAY moved that the House now take up the remaining candidates,and go into an election for breakfast.This was carried.

“On the first ballot-there was a tie,half the members favoring one candidate on account of his youth,and half favoring the other on account of his superior size.The President gave the casting vote for the latter,Mr.Messick.This decision created considerable dissatisfaction among the friends of Mr.Ferguson,the defeated candidate,and there was some talk of demanding a new ballot；but in the midst of it a motion to adjourn was carried,and the meeting broke up at once.

“The preparations for supper diverted the attention of the Ferguson faction from the discussion of their grievance for a long time,and then,when they would have taken it up again,the happy announcement that Mr.Harris was ready drove all thought of it to the winds.

“We improvised tables by propping up the backs of carscats,and sat down with hearts full of gratitude to the finest supper that had blessed our vision for seven torturing days.How changed we were from what we had been a few short hours before！Hopeless,sad-eyed misery,hunger,feverish anxiety,desperation,then；thankfulness,serenity,joy too deep for utterance now.That I know was the cheeriest hour of my eventful life.The winds howled,and blew the snow wildly about our prison house,but they were powerless to distress us any more.I liked Harris.He might have been better done,perhaps,but I am free to say that no man ever agreed with me better than Harris,or afforded meso large a degree of satisfaction.Messick was very well,though rather high-flavored,but for genuine nutritiousness and delicacy of fiber,give me Harris.Messick had his good points-I will not attempt to deny it,nor do I wish to do it but he was no more fitted for breakfast than a mummy would be,sir-not a bit.Lean？—why,bless me！—and tough？Ah,he was very tough！You could not imagine it-you could never imagine anything like it.”

“Do you mean to tell me that—”

“Do not interrupt me,please.After breakfast we elected a man by the name of Walker,from Detroit,for supper.He was very good.I wrote his wife so afterward.He was worthy of all praise.I shall always remember Walker.He was a little rare,but very good.And then the next morning we had Morgan of Alabama for breakfast.He was one of the finest men I ever sat down to-handsome,educated,refined,spoke several languages fluently-a perfect gentleman,he was a perfect gentleman,and singularly juicy.For supper we had that Oregon patriarch,and he was a fraud,there is no question about it-old,scraggy,tough,nobody can picture the reality.I finally said,gentlemen,you can do as you like,but I will wait for another election.And Grimes of Illinois said，‘Gentlemen,I will wait also.When you elect a man that has something to recommend him,I shall be glad to join you again.’it soon became evident that there was general dissatisfaction with Davis of Oregon,and so,to preserve the good will that had prevailed so pleasantly since we had had Harris,an election was called,and the result of it was that Baker of Georgia was chosen.He was splendid！Well,well-after that we had Doolittle,and Hawkins,and McElroy（there was some complaint about McElroy,because he was uncommonly short and thin），and Penrod,and two Smiths,and Bailey（Bailey had a wooden leg,which was clear loss,but he was otherwise good），and an Indian boy,and an organ-grinder,and a gentleman by the name of Buckminster-a poor stick of a vagabond that wasn’t any good for company and no account for breakfast.We were glad we got him elected before relief came.”

“And so the blessed relief did come at last？”

“Yes,it came one.bright,sunny morning,just after election.John Murphy was the choice,and there never was a better,I am willing to testify；but John Murphy came home with us,in the train that came to succor us,and lived tomarry the widow Harris—”

“Relict of—”

“Relict of our first choice.He married her,and is happy and respected and prosperous yet.Ah,it was like a novel,sir-it was like a romance.This is my stopping-place,sir；I must bid you goodbye.Any time that you can make it convenient to tarry a day or two with me,I shall be glad to have you.I like you,sir；I have conceived an affection for you.I could like you as well as I liked Harris himself,sir.Good day,sir,and a pleasant journey.”

He was gone.I never felt so stunned,so distressed,so bewildered in my life.But in my soul I was glad he was gone.With all his gentleness of manner and his soft voice,I shuddered whenever he turned his hungry eye upon me；and when I heard that I had achieved his perilous affection,and that I stood almost with the late Harris in his esteem,my heart fairly stood still！

I was bewildered beyond description.I did not doubt his word；I could not question a single item in a statement so stamped with the earnestness of truth as his；but its dreadful details overpowered me,and threw my thoughts into hopeless confusion.I saw the conductor looking at me.I said，“Who is that man？”

“He was a member of Congress once,and a good one.But he got caught in a snow-drift in the cars,and like to have been starved to death.He got so frost-bitten and frozen up generally,and used up for want of something to eat,that he was sick and out of his head two or three months afterward.He is all right now,only he is a monomaniac,and when he gets on that old subject he never stops till he has eat up that whole car-load of people he talks about.He would have finished the crowd by this time,only he had to get out here.He has got their names as pat as ABC.When he gets them all eat up but himself,he always says：‘Then the hour for the usual election for breakfast having arrived；and there being no opposition,I was duly elected,after which,there being no objections offered,I resigned.Thus I am here.’”

I felt inexpressibly relieved to know that I had only been listening to the harmless vagaries of a madman instead of the genuine experiences of a bloodthirsty cannibal.[Written about 1868]卡匹托尔山维纳斯的传奇　Legend of the Capitoline Venus导读第一幕　Chapter Ⅰ场景一——一位罗马艺术家的工作室“啊，乔治，我深爱着你。不过我的爸爸认为我和一个艺术家在一起，是不会幸福的。他不理解艺术，不过，你要是能弄到五万美元，我相信他会消除偏见的。”“哎，玛丽，我的吃住费用还拖欠着呢，到哪里去弄五万美元呢？”h,George,I do love you！”“Bless your dear heart,Mary,I know that-why is your father “Oso obdurate？”

“George,he means well,but art is folly to him-he only understands groceries.He thinks you would starve me.”

“Confound his wisdom-it savors of inspiration.Why am I not a money-making bowelless grocer,instead of a divinely gifted sculptor with nothing to eat？”

“Do not despond,Georgy,dear-all his prejudices will fade away as soon as you shall have acquired fifty thousand dol—”

“Fifty thousand demons！Child,I am in arrears for my board！”第二幕　Chapter Ⅱ场景二——罗马的一间公寓“我是不会允许我的女儿同一个穷困潦倒、空谈艺术的傻瓜在一起的，不要痴心妄想了！”“可我创作的那件‘亚美利亚’雕刻作品，总有一天会让我成名的。”“名声是个什么东西，一文不值！半年之内，你要是拿不出五万美元来，我就要把我的女儿嫁给辛普。”“哎，我太伤心了。”y dear sir,it is useless to talk.I haven’t anything against you,but I can’t let my daughter marry a hash of love,art,and starvation-I “Mbelieve you have nothing else to offer.”

“Sir,I am poor,I grant you.But is fame nothing？The Hon.Bellamy Foodle of Arkansas says that my new statue of America,is a clever piece of sculpture,and he is satisfied that my name will one day be famous.”

“Bosh！What does that Arkansas ass know about it？Fame’s nothing-the market price of your marble scarecrow is the thing to look at.It took you six months to chisel it,and you can’t sell it for a hundred dollars.No,sir！Show me fifty thousand dollars and you can have my daughter-otherwise she marries young Simper.You have just six months to raise the money in.Good morning,sir.”

“Alas！Woe is me！”第三幕　Chapter Ⅲ场景三——雕刻工作间“约翰，我最挚爱的朋友，我现在除了这件‘亚美利亚’雕塑外，一无所有。哎！”“不要绝望，朋友，用六个月的时间来筹备这笔款子绰绰有余。如果你把这件事情完全交给我来办，不要插手干预，我保证帮你筹到钱。你愿意吗？”“好，我发誓，我愿意！”乔治喜出望外。

约翰拿着一把锤子，从容不迫地敲掉了“亚美利亚”的鼻子、手指、耳朵、脚趾，将一件完整的塑像敲得破败不堪。之后，便离开了。

乔治盯着残破的雕像，哑口无言，晕了过去。不久，约翰回来用马车拉走了乔治和他的“亚美利亚”，把乔治留在自己公寓内，自己拉着雕像，向皇宫驶去。h,John,friend of my boyhood,I am the unhappiest of men.”“You’re a simpleton！”“O

“I have nothing left to love but my poor statue of America-and see,even she has no sympathy for me in her cold marble countenance-so beautiful and so heartless！”

“You’re a dummy！”

“Oh,John！”

“Oh,fudge！Didn’t you say you had six months to raise the money in？”

“Don’t deride my agony,John.If I had six centuries what good would it do？How could it help a poor wretch without name,capital,or friends？”

“Idiot！Coward！Baby！Six months to raise the money in-and five will do！”

“Are you insane？”

“Six months-an abundance.Leave it to me.I’ll raise it.”

“What do you mean,John？How on earth can you raise such a monstrous sum for me？”

“Will you let that be my business,and not meddle？Will you leave the thing in my hands？Will you swear to submit to whatever I do？Will you pledge me to find no fault with my actions？”

“I am dizzy-bewildered-but I swear.”

John took up a hammer and deliberately smashed the nose of America！He made another pass and two of her fingers fell to the floor-another,and part of an ear came away-another,and a row of toes was mangled and dismembered-another,and the left leg,from the knee down,lay a fragmentary ruin！

John put on his hat and departed.

George gazed speechless upon the battered and grotesque nightmarebefore him for the space of thirty seconds,and then wilted to the floor and went into convulsions.

John returned presently with a carriage,got the brokenhearted artist and the broken-legged statue aboard,and drove off,whistling low and tranquilly.

He left the artist at his lodgings,and drove off and disappeared down the Via Quirinalis with the statue.第四幕　Chapter Ⅳ场景四——雕刻工作间“截至今天两点，六个月的期限就要到了。哎，太悲伤了，我的命运太悲惨了！鞋匠、裁缝和房东都在逼着我还债，我可怎么办呢？”

这时，门外传来敲门声。鞋匠走进来，谦恭地对乔治说：“我给老爷带来了一双新鞋子，不用提钱的事情了，以后还请老爷多多光顾小店。”

正在乔治诧异间，裁缝走进来，说他已经为乔治带来了一件新衣服。之后，房东走进来，说他为乔治准备好了一间豪华套间。

最后，玛丽的父亲走进来，兴奋地告诉乔治：“你们结婚吧，她马上就到，祝你们喜结良缘、美满幸福。”he six months will be up at two o’clock today！Oh,agony！My life is blighted.I would that I were dead.I had no supper “Tyesterday.I have had no breakfast today.I dare not enter an eating-house.And hungry？—don’t mention it！My bootmaker duns me to death-my tailor duns me-my landlord haunts me.I am miserable.I haven’t seen John since that awful day.She smiles on me tenderly when we meet in the great thoroughfares,but her old flint of a father makes her look in the other direction in short order.Now who is knocking at that door？Who is come to persecute me？That malignant villain the bootmaker,I’ll warrant.Come in！”

“Ah,happiness attend your highness-Heaven be propitious to your grace！I have brought my lord’s new boots-ah,say nothing about the pay,there is no hurry,none in the world.Shall be proud if my noble lord will continue to honor me with his custom-ah,adieu！”

“Brought the boots himself！Don’t wait his pay！Takes his leave with a bow and a scrape fit to honor majesty withal！Desires a continuance of my custom！Is the world coming to an end？Of all the-come in！”

“Pardon,signore,but I have brought your new suit of clothes for—”

“Come in！”

“A thousand pardons for this intrusion,your worship.But I have prepared the beautiful suite of rooms below for you-this wretched den is but ill suited to—”

“Come in！”

“I have called to say that your credit at our bank,some time since unfortunately interrupted,is entirely and most satisfactorily restored,and we shall be most happy if you will draw upon us for any—”

“COME IN！”

“My noble boy,she is yours！She’ll be here in a moment！Take her-marry her-love her-be happy！—God bless you both！Hip,hip,hut—”

“COME IN！”

“Oh,George,my own darling,we are saved！”

“Oh,Mary,my own darling,we are saved-but I’ll swear I don’t know why nor how！”第五幕　Chapter Ⅴ场景五——罗马一间咖啡馆

在一群美国绅士中，有一位正在读《罗马闲话者周刊》上的文章，其内容如下：“大约半年前，侨居罗马的美国绅士约翰·史密斯将郊区的一块土地转让给了一位叫做乔治·阿诺德的贫穷艺术家，他还愿意用自己的钱改善一下这块土地的面貌。就在一个月以前，史密斯开凿土地时，挖掘出一件古代雕像。这是一件精美绝伦的女子雕塑，虽然身体多处有残损，但是不影响它的艺术价值。目前，政府已经调动军队将这件艺术品保护起来，并且请艺术家、鉴赏家和红衣主教组成的委员会，来对这尊塑像的艺术价值进行评估。就在昨晚，委员会公布了鉴定结果——这是美人维纳斯的塑像，完成于公元前三世纪某个不知名艺术家之手，其价值在一千万法郎以上。按照惯例，政府决定支付五百万法郎给乔治·阿诺德先生。”“真是好运气！我们把这块地皮购买下来，挖掘雕像吧。再与华尔街联系一下，哄抬股市。”“同意！”ne of a group of American gentlemen reads and translates from the weekly edition of“I1 Slangwhanger di Roma”as follows：O

WONDERFUL DISCOVERY-Some six months ago Signor John Smitthe,an American gentleman now some years a resident of Rome,purchased for a trifle a small piece of ground in the Campagna,just beyond the tomb of the Scipio family，.from the owner,a bankrupt relative of the Princess Borghese.Mr.Smitthe a fterward went to the Minister of the Public Records and had the piece of ground trans ferred to a poor American artist named George Arnold,explaining that he did it as payment and satisfaction for pecuniary damage accidentally done by him long since upon property belonging to Signor Arnold,and further observed that he would make additional satisfaction by improving the ground for Signor A.，at his own charge and cost.Four weeks ago,while making some necessary excavations upon the property,Signor Smitthe unearthed the most remarkable ancient statue that has ever been added to the opulent art treasures of Rome.It was an exquisite figure of a woman,and though sadly stained by the soil and the mold of ages,no eye can look unmoved upon its ravishing beauty.The nose,the left leg from the knee down,an ear,and also the toes of the right foot and two fingers of one of the hands were gone,but otherwise the noble figure was in a remarkable state of preservation.The government at once took military possession of the statue,and appointed a commission of art-critics,antiquaries,and cardinal princes of the church to assess its value and determine the remuneration that must go to the owner of the ground in which it was found.The whole affair was kept a profound secret until last night.In the meantime the commission sat with closed doors and deliberated.Last night they decided unanimously that the statue is a Venus,and the work of some unknown but sublimely gifted artist of the third century before Christ.They consider it themost faultless work of art the world has any knowledge of.

At midnight they held a final conference and,decided that the Venus was worth the enormous sum of ten million francs！In accordance with Roman law and Roman usage,the government being half-owner in all works of art found in the Campagna,the State has naught to do but pay five million francs to Mr.Arnold and take permanent possession of the beautiful statue.This morning the Venus will be removed to the Capitol,there to remain,and at noon the commission will wait upon Signor Arhold with His Holiness the Pope’s order upon the Treasury for the princely sum of five million francs is gold！

Chorus of Voices.—“Luck！It’s no name for it！”Another Voice.—“Gentlemen,I propose that we immediately form an American joint-stock company for the purchase of lands and excavations of statues here,with proper connections in Wall Street to bull and bear the stock.”

All.—“Agreed.”第六幕　Chapter Ⅵ场景六——十年之后的罗马卡匹托尔山“亲爱的玛丽，那尊‘卡匹托尔山的维纳斯’已经成为世界上最负盛名的雕塑了。现在它值一千万法郎，真是不可思议。”“啊，乔治，她果真是美妙绝伦啊！”“是啊。这也多亏了聪明的约翰·史密斯，他是我们幸福的缔造者。”earest Mary,this is the most celebrated statue in the world.This is the renowned‘Capitoline Venus’you’ve heard so much “Dabout.Here she is with her little blemishes‘restored’（that is,patched）by the most noted Roman artists-and the mere fact that they did the humble patching of so noble a creation will make their names illustrious while the world stands.How strange it seems this place！The day before I last stood here,ten happy years ago,I wasn’t a rich man-bless your soul,I hadn’t a cent.And yet I had a good deal to do with making Rome mistress of this grandest work of ancient art the world contains.”

“The worshiped,the illustrious Capitoline Venus-and what a sum she isvalued at！Ten millions of francs！”

“Yes-now she is.”

“And oh,Georgy,how divinely beautiful she is！”

“Ah,yes but nothing to what she was before that blessed John Smith broke her leg and battered her nose.Ingenious Smith！—gifted Smith！—noble Smith！Author of all our bliss！Hark！Do you know what that wheeze means？Mary,that cub has got the whooping-cough.Will you never learn to take care of the children！”结尾

当你从报刊上看到某地发掘出一个巨大石化人的消息时，千万不要震惊。当有人企图把这件石化人卖给你时，也千万不要买，让他直接卖给罗马教皇好了。

附注：该短剧针对当时在美国闹得沸沸扬扬的“化石巨人”诈骗案而作。一八六九年he Capitoline Venus is still in the Capitol at Rome,and is still the most charming and most illustrious work of ancient art the world Tcan boast of.But if ever it shall be your fortune to stand before it and go into the customary ecstasies over it,don’t permit this true and secret history of its origin to mar your bliss-and when you read about a gigantic Petrified man being dug up near Syracuse,in the State of New York,or near any other place,keep your own counsel-and if the Barnum that buried him there offers to sell to you at an enormous sum,don’t you buy.Send him to the Pope！

NOTE：The above sketch was written at the time the famous swindle of the“Petrified Giant”was the sensation of the day in the United States.[Written about 1869]竞选州长　Running For Governor导读

数月前，我被提名为纽约州州长候选人，代表独立党同约翰·特·史密斯和布兰克竞选。我的名声要比他们俩好得多，一想到自己的名字将和他们俩的秽名混在一块到处宣扬，我的心底着实不安；但既然卷进来了，只好战斗下去。

这天早晨，我一边吃早餐，一边抄起手边的报纸来读，看到一条令我惶恐的报道：“伪证罪——1863年，马克·吐温先生在交趾支那的瓦卡瓦克，有34人指出他犯有伪证罪。他还企图侵占一块香蕉地，这是一位寡妇和一群孩子的唯一生活来源。不知道马克·吐温先生能否对此事做一合理解释。”

这是多么阴险的陷害，我根本就不知道支那，从来没有听说什么瓦卡瓦克。我不知道怎么办才好，那天我什么都没做。第二天早晨，这家报纸留下这样一句话：“意味深长——马克·吐温对伪证罪保持缄默。”

接着，《新闻报》刊登了这样一段话：“需要查证——马克·吐温先生在蒙大拿住宿营的时候，经常小偷小摸，同宿旅伴常常丢失东西，而往往能在他的背包中找到它们。”

天哪，我根本就没有去过蒙大拿州！

此后我对报纸产生了畏惧之心，一天，我偶然又发现了这样一条消息：“揭穿谎言——马克·吐温先生曾经恶意地诽谤布兰克先生的祖父因拦路抢劫而被判绞刑。他以如此恶毒的手段试图达到政治上的胜利，实在卑劣至极（公众可以对其进行人身伤害，以抚平愤怒的情绪。）”

当晚，就有“义愤填膺”的公众从我家前门冲进来，将我家能搬动的财产统统掠去。然而，我可以手抚《圣经》发誓，我绝对没有诽谤过布兰克的祖父。

还有一则报道，如是写道：“好个候选人——马克·吐温先生正打算做一次恶语中伤对手的演讲，他的私人医生打电话说，马克·吐温被飞驰的马车撞到，此时正卧床不起。不过，昨晚有人看见一个喝得醉醺醺的酒鬼走进马克·吐温先生的住所，公众疾呼：‘那人是谁？’”

三年以来，我从来是滴酒不沾，现如今，我却与酒鬼联系在了一起。

那时，我还接二连三地收到匿名恐吓信。共和党和民主党的主要报纸找来各种罪名来诬陷我。我们党的报刊主编和领导者都劝我说，如果我再保持缄默，政治前途将毁于一旦。不久，一家报纸刊登了下面的一段话：“独立党的候选人马克·吐温，犯下的累累罪行陆续被公布于世，而他却缄默不语，说明他没有证据来翻案。谁还心甘情愿地将选票投给这样一位有如此斑斑劣迹的候选人？”

在一系列诽谤、诬陷事件的压力下，我最终退出了竞选，宣布投降。一八七零年

few months ago I was nominated for Governor of the great state

of New York,to run against Mr.John T.Smith and Mr.Blank J.Blank A

on an independent ticket.I somehow felt that I had one prominent advantage over these gentlemen,and that was-good character.It was easy to see by the newspapers that if ever they had known what it was to bear a good name,that time had gone by.It was plain that in these latter years they had become familiar with all manner of shameful crimes.But at the very moment that I was exalting my advantage and joying in it in secret,there was a muddy undercurrent of discomfort“riling”the deeps of my happiness,and that was-the having to hear my name bandied about in familiar connection with those of such people.I grew more and more disturbed.Finally I wrote my grandmother about it.Her answer came quick and sharp.She said：

“You have never done one single thing in all your life to be ashamed of-not one.Look at the newspapers-look at them and comprehend what sort ofcharacters Messrs.Smith and Blank are,and then see if you are willing to lower yourself to their level and enter a public canvass with them.”

It was my very thought！I did not sleep a single moment that night.But,after all,I could not recede.

I was fully committed,and must go on with the fight.As I was looking listlessly over the papers at breakfast I came across this paragraph,and I may truly say I never was so confounded before.

“PERJURY.—Perhaps,now that Mr.Mark Twain is before the people as a candidate for Governor,he will condescend to explain how he came to be convicted of perjury by thirty-four witnesses in Wakawak,Cochin China,in 1863，the intent of which perjury being to rob a poor native widow and her helpless family of a meager plantain-patch,their only stay and support in their bereavement and desolation.Mr.Twain owes it to himself,as well as to the great people whose suffrages he asks,to clear this matter up.Will he do it？”

I thought I should burst with amazement！Such a cruel,heartless charge！I never had seen Cochin China！I never had heard of Wakawak！I didn’t know a plantain-patch from a kangaroo！I did not know what to do.I was crazed and helpless.I let the day slip away without doing anything at all.The next morning the same paper had this-nothing more：

“SIGNIFICANT.—Mr.Twain,it will be observed,is suggestively silent about the Cochin China perjury.”

[Mem.—During the rest of the campaign this paper never referred to me in any other way than as“the infamous perjurer Twain.”]

Next came the Gazette,with this：

“WANTED TO KNOW.—Will the new candidate for Governor deign to explain to certain of his fellow-citizens（who are suffering to vote for him！）the little circumstance of his cabin-mates in Montana losing small valuables from time to time,until at last,these things having been invariably found on Mr.Twain’s person or in his“trunk”（newspaper he rolled his traps in），they felt compelled to give him a friendly admonition for his own good,and so tarred and feathered him,and rode him on a rail；and then advised him to leave a permanent vacuum in the place he usually occupied in the camp.Will he do this？”

Could anything be more deliberately malicious than that？For I never was in Montana in my life.

[After this,this journal customarily spoke of me as，“Twain,the Montana Thief.”]

I got to picking up papers apprehensively-much as one would lift a desired blanket which he had some idea might have a rattlesnake under it.One day this met my eye：“THE LIE NAILED.—By the sworn affidavits of Michael O’Flanagan,Esq.，of the Five Points,and Mr.Snub Rafferty and Mr.Catty Mulligan,of Water Street,it is established that Mr.Mark Twain’s vile statement that the lamented grandfather of our noble standard-bearer,Blank J.Blank,was hanged for highway robbery,is a brutal and gratuitous LIE,without a shadow of foundation in fact.It is disheartening to virtuous men to see such shameful means resorted to to achieve political success as the attacking of the dead in their graves,and defiling their honored names with slander.When we think of the anguish this miserable falsehood must cause the innocent relatives and friends of the deceased,we are almost driven to incite an outraged and insulted public to summary and unlawful vengeance upon the traducer.But no！let us leave him to the agony of a lacerated conscience（though if passion should get the better of the public,and in its blind fury they should do the traducer bodily injury,it is but too obvious that no jury could convict and no court punish the perpetrators of the deed）。”

The ingenious closing sentence had the effect of moving me out of bed with despatch that night,and out at the back door also,while the“outraged and insulted public”surged in the front way,breaking furniture and windows in their righteous indignation as they came,and taking off such property as they could carry when they went.And yet I can lay my hand upon the Book and say that I never slandered Mr.Blank’s grandfather.More：I had never even heard of him or mentioned him up to that day and date.

[I will state,in passing,that the journal above quoted from always referred to me afterward as“Twain,the BodySnatcher.”]

The next newspaper article that attracted my attention was the following：

“A SWEET CANDIDATE.—Mr.Mark Twain,who was to make such ablighting speech at the mass-meeting of the Independents last night,didn’t come to time！A telegram from his physician stated that he had been knocked down by a run away team,and his leg broken in two places-sufferer lying in great agony,and so forth,and so forth,and a lot more bosh of the same sort.And the Independents tried hard to swallow the wretched subterfuge,and pretend that they did not know what was the real reason of the absence of the abandoned creature whom they denominate their standard-bearer.A certain man was seen to reel into Mr.Twain’s hotel last night in a state of beastly intoxication.It is the imperative duty of the Independents to prove that this besotted brute was not Mark Twain himself.We have them at last！This is a case that admits of no shirking.The voice of the people demands in thunder tones，‘WHO WAS THAT MAN？’”

It was incredible,absolutely incredible,for a moment,that it was really my name that was coupled with this disgraceful suspicion.Three long years had passed over my head since I had tasted ale,beer,wine or liquor or any kind.

[It shows what effect the times were having on me when I say that I saw myself,confidently dubbed“Mr.Delirium Tremens Twain”in the next issue of that journal without a pang-notwithstanding I knew that with monotonous fidelity the paper would go on calling me so to the very end.]

By this time anonymous letters were getting to be an important part of my mail matter.This form was common.

How,about that old woman you kiked o f your premises whichzvas beging.POL.PRY.

And this：

There is things which you Have done which is unbeknowens to anybody but me.You better trot out a few dots,to yours truly,or you’ll hear through the papers from.HANDY ANDY.

This is about the idea.I could continue them till the reader was surfeited,if desirable.

Shortly the principal Republican journal“convicted”me of wholesale bribery,and the leading Democratic paper“nailed”an aggravated case of blackmailing to me.

[ln this way I acquired two additional names：“Twain the Filthy Corruptionist”and“Twain the Loathsome Embracer.”]

By this time there had grown to be such a clamor for an“answer”to all the dreadful charges that were laid to me that the editors and leaders of my party said it would be political ruin for me to remain silent any longer.As if to make their appeal the more imperative,the following appeared in one of the papers the very next day：

“BEHOLD THE MAN！—The independent candidate still maintains silence.Because he dare not speak.Every accusation against him has been amply proved,and they have been indorsed and reindorsed by his own eloquent silence,till at this day he stands forever convicted.Look upon your candidate,Independents！Look upon the Infamous Perjurer！the Montana Thief！the Body-Snatcher！Contemplate your incarnate Delirium Tremens！your Filthy Corruptionist！your Loathsome Embracer！Gaze upon him-ponder him well-and then say if you can give your honest votes to a creature who has earned this dismal array of titles by his hideous crimes,and dares not open his mouth in denial of any one of them！”

There was no possible way of getting out of it,and so,in deep humiliation,I set about preparing to“answer”a mass of baseless charges and mean and wicked falsehoods.But I never finished the task,for the very next morning a paper came out with a new horror,a fresh malignity,and seriously charged me with burning a lunatic asylum with all its inmates,because it obstructed the view from my house.This threw me into a sort of panic.Then came the charge of poisoning my uncle to get his property,with an imperative demand that the grave should be opened.This drove me to the verge of distraction.On top of this I was accused of employing toothless and incompetent old relatives to prepare the food for the foundling hospital when I was warden.I was wavering-wavering.And at last,as a due and fitting climax to the shameless persecution that party rancor had inflicted upon me,nine little toddling children,of all shades of color and degrees of raggedness,were taught to rush onto the platform at a public meeting,and clasp me around the legs and call me PA！

I gave it up.I hauled down my colors and surrendered.I was not equal to the requirements of a Gubernatorial campaign in the state of New York,and so I sent in my withdrawal from the candidacy,and in bitterness of spirit signed it，“Truly yours,once a decent man,but now MARK TWAIN,LP.，M.T.，B.S.，D.T.，F.C.，and L.E.”[Written about 1870]好小孩的故事　Story of the Good Little Boy导读

从前有个好孩子，叫雅各布·布利文斯。他对父母的话言听计从，上主日学校从来不迟到，对别人从来不撒谎，即使是星期天他也不去掏鸟窝或是打弹子。总之，布利文斯尽其所能做好事，其他孩子都摸不透他的脾气，最终，一致认为他脑子有毛病。

雅各布喜欢看主日学校的课本上关于好孩子的所有故事，但到现在为止，他还没有见过一个真正的好孩子。他希望自己也能被写进课本中，他所做的每一件事都符合课本上好孩子的标准，甚至连好孩子应该有的临终遗言都准备好了。

但是，雅各布并没有课本上的好孩子那么幸运，他做的每件事情都不太顺利。他发现吉姆爬到树上去偷苹果，便去劝导，没想到吉姆从树上掉下来，没有摔断双腿，反而掉到雅各布的身上，把他的胳膊给压断了；几个坏孩子把一个盲人推到泥潭里，雅各布赶紧跑过去将他扶起来，盲人不仅没有谢他，反而用手杖敲他的脑袋；雅各布收留了一只流浪狗，但没有获得狗的感激，成为它的好朋友，反而被狗撕碎衣服……诸如此类的事情在雅各布身上屡见不鲜。雅各布很疑惑，他翻遍主日学校的课本，书上描写的好孩子的事迹同他的遭遇截然相反。

有一天，雅各布在阻止一群孩子做坏事的时候，不幸被装满硝化甘油的铁罐炸飞了。这个好孩子就这样死去了，但没有像课本上所写的好孩子那样光荣地去世，甚至还没有来得及将临终遗言公布于世。一八七零年nce there was a good little boy by the name of Jacob Blivens.He always obeyed his parents,no matter how absurd and Ounreasonable their demands were；and he always learned his book,and never was late at Sabbath-school.He would not play hookey,even when his sober judgment told him it was the most profitable thing he could do.None of the other boys could ever make that boy out,he acted so strangely.He wouldn’t lie,no matter how convenient it was.He just said it was wrong to lie,and that was sufficient for him.And he was so honest that he was simply ridiculous.The curious ways that that Jacob had,surpassed everything.He wouldn’t play marbles on Sunday,he wouldn’t rob birds’nests,he wouldn’t give hot pennies to organ-grinders’monkeys；he didn’t seem to take any interest in any kind of rational amusement.So the other boys used to try to reason it out and come to an understanding of him,but they couldn’t arrive at any satisfactory conclusion.As I said before,they could only figure out a sort of vague idea that he was“afflicted，”and so they took him under their protection,and never allowed any harm to come to him.

This good little boy read all the Sunday-school books；they were his greatest delight.This was the whole secret of it.He believed in the good little boys they put in the Sunday-school book；he had every confidence in them.He longed to come across one of them alive once；but he never did.They all died before his time,maybe.Whenever he read about a particularly good one he turned over quickly to the end to see what became of him,because he wanted to travel thousands of miles and gaze on him；but it wasn’t any use；that good little boy always died in the last chapter,and there was a picture of the funeral,with all his relations and the Sunday-school children standing around the grave in pantaloons that were too short,and bonnets that were too large,and everybody crying into handkerchiefs that had as much as a yard and a half of stuff in them.He was always headed off in this way.He never could see one of those good little boys on account of his always dying in the last chapter.

Jacob had a noble ambition to be put in a Sunday-school book.He wanted to be put in,with pictures representing him gloriously declining to lie to hismother,and her weeping for joy about it；and pictures representing him standing on the doorstep giving a penny to a poor beggar-woman with six children,and telling her to spend it freely,but not to be extravagant,because extravagance is a sin；and pictures of him magnanimously refusing to tell on the bad boy who always lay in wait for him around the corner as he came from school,and welted him so over the head with a lath,and then chased him home,saying，“Hi！hi！”as he proceeded.That was the ambition of young Jacob Blivens.He wished to be put in a Sundayschool book.It made him feel a little uncomfortable sometimes when he reflected that the good little boys always died.He loved to live,you know,and this was the most unpleasant feature about being a Sunday-school-book boy.He knew it was not healthy to be good.He knew it was more fatal than consumption to be so supernaturally good as the boys in the books were；he knew that none of them had ever been able to stand it long,and it pained him to think that if they put him in a book he wouldn’t ever see it,or even if they did get the book out before he died it wouldn’t be popular without any picture of his funeral in the back part of it.It couldn’t be much of a Sunday-school book that couldn’t tell about the advice he gave to the community when he was dying.So at last,of course,he had to make up his mind to do the best he could under the circumstances-to live right,and hang on as long as he could and have his dying speech all ready when his time came.

But somehow nothing ever went right with the good little boy；nothing ever turned out with him the way it turned out with the good little boys in the books.They always had a good time,and the bad boys had the broken legs；but in his case there was a screw loose somewhere,and it all happened just the other way.When he found Jim Blake stealing apples,and went under the tree to read to him about the bad little boy who fell out of a neighbor’s apple tree and broke his arm,Jim fell out of the tree,too,but he fell on him and broke his arm,and Jim wasn’t hurt at all.Jacob couldn’t understand that.There wasn’t anything in the books like it.

And once,when some bad boys pushed a blind man over in the mud,and Jacob ran to help him up and receive his blessing,the blind man did not give him any blessing at all,but whacked him over the head with his stick and saidhe would like to catch him shoving him again,and then pretending to help him up.This was not in accordance with any of the books.Jacob looked them all over to see.

One thing that Jacob wanted to do was to find a lame dog that hadn’t any place to stay,and was hungry and persecuted,and bring him home and pet him and have that dog’s imperishable gratitude.And at last he found one and was happy；and he brought him home and fed him,but when he was going to pet him the dog flew at him and tore all the clothes off him except those that were in front,and made a spectacle of him that was astonishing.He examined authorities,but he could not understand the matter.It was of the same breed of dogs that was in he books,but it acted very differently.Whatever this boy did he got into trouble.The very things the boys in the books got rewarded for turned out to be about the most unprofitable things he could invest in.

Once,when he was on his way to Sunday-school,he saw some bad boys starting off pleasuring in a sailboat.He was filled with consternation,because he knew from his reading that boys who went sailing on Sunday invariably got drowned.So he ran out on a raft to warn them,but a log turned with him and slid him into the river.A man got him out pretty soon,and he doctor pumped the water out of him,and gave him a fresh start with his bellows,but he caught cold and lay sick abed nine weeks.But the most unaccountable thing about it was that the bad boys in the boat had a good time all day,and then reached home alive and well in the most surprising manner.Jacob Blivens said there was nothing like these things in the books.He was perfectly dumfounded.

When he got well he was a little discouraged,but he resolved to keep on trying anyhow.He knew that so far his experiences wouldn’t do to go in a book,but he hadn’t yet reached he allotted term of life for good little boys,and he hoped to be able to make a record yet if he could hold on till his time was fully up.If everything else failed he had his dying speech to fall back on.

He examined his authorities,and found that it was now time for him to go to sea as a cabin-boy.He called on a shipcaptain and made his application,and when the captain asked or his recommendations he proudly drew out a tract and pointed to the word，“To Jacob Blivens,from his affectionate teacher.”But thecaptain was a coarse,vulgar man,and he said，“Oh,that be blowed！that wasn’t any proof that he knew how to wash dishes or handle a slush-bucket,and he guessed he didn’t want him.”This was altogether the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to Jacob in all his life.A compliment from a teacher,on a tract,had never failed to move the tenderest emotions of ship-captains,and open the way to all offices of honor and profit in their gift it never had in any book that ever he had read.He could hardly believe his senses.

This boy always had a hard time of it.Nothing ever came out according to the authorities with him.At last,one day,when he was around hunting up bad little boys to admonish,he found a lot of them in the old iron-foundry fixing up a little joke on fourteen or fifteen dogs,which they had tied together in long procession,and were going to ornament with empty nitroglycerin cans made fast to their tails.Jacob’s heart was touched.He sat down on one of those cans（for he never minded grease when duty was before him），and he took hold of the foremost dog by the collar,and turned his reproving eye upon wicked Tom Jones.But just at that moment Alderman McWelter,full of wrath,stepped in.All the bad boys ran away,but Jacob Blivens rose in conscious innocence and began one of those stately little Sunday-school-book speeches which always commence with“Oh,sir！”in dead opposition to the fact that no boy,good or bad,ever starts a remark with“Oh,sir.”But the alderman never waited to hear the rest.He took Jacob Blivens by the ear and turned him around,and hit him a whack in the rear with the flat of his hand；and in an instant that good little boy shot out through the roof and soared away toward the sun with the fragments of those fifteen dogs stringing after him like the tail of a kite.And there wasn’t a sign of that alderman or that old iron-foundry left on the face of the earth；and,as for young Jacob Blivens,he never got a chance to make his last dying speech after all his trouble fixing it up,unless he made it to the birds；because,although the bulk of him came down all right in a tree-top in an adjoining county,the rest of him was apportioned around among four townships,and so they had to hold five inquests on him to find out whether he was dead or not,and how it occurred.You never saw a boy scattered so.

[This glycerin catastrophe is borrowed from a floating newspaper item,whose author’s name I would give if I knew it.—M.T.]

Thus perished the good little boy who did the best he could,but didn’t come out according to the books.Every boy who ever did as he did prospered except him.His case is truly remarkable.It will probably never be accounted for.[Written about 1870]中世纪传奇一则　A Medieval Romance导读第一章　泄密Chapter Ⅰ　The Secret Revealed

公元1222年末的一个夜晚，在古老而庄严的克鲁根斯坦封建城堡里，克鲁根斯坦老男爵温和地对女儿康拉德说：“我的女儿，现在到了揭开你身世之谜的时候了。我的哥哥乌尔里克是伟大的勃兰登堡公爵，我们的父亲在临终前对我们说，我们俩谁生了儿子，公爵继承权就归谁；如果仅生了女儿，那么继承权就归乌尔里克的女儿所有，但前提必须保证她是纯洁的。“结果，我和哥哥都只生了女儿。为了争夺公爵继承权，从你出生那天起，你是女孩的身份就被雪藏起来，外界只知道在克鲁根斯坦出生了一个男婴。“现在我兄长已经年迈体衰，他决定要你去他那里。这样，实际上你已经成为了公爵，虽然你没有获得封号。“你一定要谦虚谨慎，牢记：一个女人在没有获得公爵的封号之前，哪怕在大公的座位上坐上一小会儿，都会被判处死刑。”“哦，父亲，难道你要我同我的堂妹争夺属于她的荣耀吗？饶恕我吧，父亲。”“你这多愁善感的性格一点我不像我，不必多说了，立刻起程。”

康拉德无奈地离开了克鲁根斯坦城堡。

老男爵对夫人说：“我派俊美的代特钦伯爵去完成使命，已经三月有余。如果进展顺利，我们的女儿即使成不了公爵，也妨害不了她成为女公爵。”t was night.Stillness reigned in the grand old feudal castle of Klugenstein.The year 1222 was drawing to a close.Far away up in Ithe tallest of the castle’s towers a single light glimmered.A secret council was being held there.The stern old lord of Klugenstein sat in a chair of state meditating.Presently he said,with a tender accent：

“My daughter！”

A young man of noble presence,clad from head to heel in knightly mail,answered：

“Speak,father！”

“My daughter,the time is come for the revealing of the mystery that hath puzzled all your young life.Know,then,that it had its birth in the matters which I shall now unfold.My brother Ulrich is the great Duke of Brandenburgh.Our father,on his deathbed,decreed that if no son were born to Ulrich,the succession should pass to my house,provided a son were born to me.And further,in case no son,were born to either,but only daughters,then the succession should pass to Ulrich’s daughter,if she proved stainless；if she did not,my daughter should succeed,if she retained a blameless name.And so I,and my old wife here,prayed fervently for the good boon of a son,but the prayer was vain.You were born to us.I was in despair.I saw the mighty prize slipping from my grasp,the splendid dream vanishing away.And I had been so hopeful！Five years had Ulrich lived in wedlock,and yet his wife had borne no heir of either sex.

“‘But hold，’I said，‘all is not lost.’A saving scheme had shot athwart my brain.You were born at midnight.Only the leech,the nurse,and six waiting-women knew your sex.I hanged them everyone before an hour had sped.Next morning all the barony went mad with rejoicing over the proclamation that a son was born to Klugenstein,an heir to mighty Brandenburgh！And well the secret has been kept.Your mother’s own sisternursed your infancy,and from that time forward we feared nothing.

“When you were ten years old,a daughter was born to Ulrich.We grieved,but hoped for good results from measles,or physicians,or other natural enemies of infancy,but were always disappointed.She lived,she throve-Heaven’s malison upon her！But it is nothing.We are safe.For,Ha-ha！have we not a son？And is not our son the future Duke？Our well-beloved Conrad,is it not so？—for,woman of eight-and-twenty years-as you are,my child,none other name than that hath ever fallen to you！

“Now it hath come to pass that age hath laid its hand upon my brother,and he waxes feeble.The cares of state do tax him sore.Therefore he wills that you shall come to him and be already Duke-in act,though not yet in name.Your servitors are ready-you journey forth tonight.

“Now listen well.Remember every word I say.There is a law as old as Germany that if any woman sit for a single instant in the great ducal chair before she hath been absolutely crowned in presence of the people,SHE SHALL DIE！So heed my words.Pretend humility.Pronounce your judgments from the Premier’s chair,which stands at the foot of the throne.Do this until you are crowned and safe.It is not likely that your sex will ever be discovered；but still it is the part of wisdom to make all things as safe as may be in this treacherous earthly life.”

“Oh；my father,is it for this my life hath been a lie！Was it that I might cheat my unoffending cousin of her rights？Spare me,father,spare your child！”

“What,huzzy！Is this my reward for the august fortune my brain has wrought for thee？By the bones of my father,this puling sentiment of thine but ill accords with my humor.

“Betake thee to the Duke,instantly！And beware how thou meddlest with my purpose！”

Let this suffice,of the conversation.It is enough for us to know that the prayers,the entreaties and the tears of the gentle-natured girl availed nothing.They nor anything could move the stout old lord of Klugenstcin.And so,at last,with a heavy heart,the daughter saw the castle gates close behind her,and found herself riding away in the darkness surrounded by a knightly array ofarmed,vassals and a brave following of servants.

The old baron sat silent for many minutes after his daughter’s departure,and then he turned to his sad wife and said：

“Dame,our matters seem speeding fairly.It is full three months since I sent the shrewd and handsome Count Detzin on his devilish mission to my brother’s daughter Constance.If he fail,we are not wholly safe；but if he do succeed,no power can bar our girl from being Duchess e’en though ill-fortune should decree she never should be Duke！”

“My heart is full of bodings,yet all may still be well.”

“Tush,woman！Leave the owls to croak.To bed with ye,and dream of Brandenburgh and grandeur！”第二章　欢乐与泪水Chapter Ⅱ　Festivity and Tears

六天之后，勃兰登堡的首府一片欢呼雀跃，举国迎接英俊的公爵继承人康拉德。康德拉的相貌和风度赢得了乌尔里克老公爵的喜爱，康拉德心里充满了欣慰。

与此同时，在皇宫一个偏僻的角落里，老公爵的独生女康斯坦斯两眼通红，她深爱着的代特钦伯爵抛弃了她，现在她恨透了他。

ix days after the occurrences related in the above chapter,the

brilliant capital of the Duchy of Brandenburgh was resplendent S

with military pageantry,and noisy with the rejoicings of loyal multitudes；for Conrad,the young heir to the crown,was come.The old Duke’s heart was full of happiness,for Conrad’s handsome person and graceful bearing had won his love at once.The great halls of the palace were thronged with nobles,who welcomed Conrad bravely；and so bright and happy did all things seem,that he felt his fears and sorrows passing away and giving place to a comforting contentment.

But in a remote apartment of the palace a scene of a different nature was,transpiring.By a window stood the Duke’s only child,the Lady Constance.Hereyes were red and swollen,and full of tears.She was alone.Presently she fell to weeping anew,and said aloud：

“The villain Detzin is gone-has fled the dukedom！I could not believe it at first,but alas！it is too true.And I loved him so.I dared to love him though I knew the Duke my father would never let me wed him.I loved him-but now I hate him！With all my soul I hate him！Oh,what is to become of me！I am lost lost,lost！I shall go mad！”第三章　复杂的情节Chapter Ⅲ　The Plot Thickens

两三个月的时光匆匆而过，老公爵已经把公国一切事务都交由康拉德来打理。然而，康拉德却并不快乐，她发现康斯坦斯公主已经深深地爱上了自己！她开始躲避她的堂妹，可康斯坦斯就像影子总是跟在她的身后。一次，当康斯坦斯向她表白真情时，康拉德严厉冷酷地拒绝了她。公主恨透了这个“表哥”，于是她酝酿了一个报复计划。

few months drifted by.All men published the praises of the

youngConrad’s government and extolled the wisdom of his A

judgments,the mercifulness of his sentences,and the modesty with which he bore himself in his great office.The old Duke soon gave everything into his hands,and sat apart and listened with proud satisfaction while his heir delivered the decrees of the crown from the seat of the premier.It seemed plain that one so loved and praised and honored of all men as Conrad was,could not be otherwise than happy.But strange enough,he was not.For he saw with dismay that the Princess Constance had begun to love him！The love of the rest of the world was happy fortune for him,but this was freighted with danger！And he saw,moreover,that the delighted Duke had discovered his daughter’s passion likewise,and was already dreaming of a marriage.Every day somewhat of the deep sadness that had been in the princess’face faded away；every day hope and animation beamed brighter from her eye；and by and by even vagrant smiles visited the face that had been so troubled.

Conrad was appalled.He bitterly cursed himself for having yielded to the instinct that had made him seek the companionship of one of his own sex when he was new and a stranger in the palace-when he was sorrowful and yearned for a sympathy such as only women can give or feel.He now began to avoid his cousin.But this only made matters worse,for,naturally enough,the more he avoided her,the more she cast herself in his way.He marveled at this at first；and next it startled him.The girl haunted him；she hunted him；she happened upon him at all times and in all places,in the night as well as in the day.She seemed singularly anxious.There was surely a mystery somewhere.

This could not go on forever.All the world was talking about it.The Duke was beginning to look perplexed.Poor Conrad was becoming a very ghost through dread and dire distress.One day as he was emerging from a private ante-room attached to the picture gallery,Constance confronted him,and seizing both his hands,in hers,exclaimed：

“Oh,why,do you avoid me？What have I done-what have I said,to lose your kind opinion of me-for,surely I had it once？Conrad,do not despise me,but pity a tortured heart？I cannot，—cannot hold the words unspoken longer,lest they kill me-I LOVE you,CONRAD！There,despise me if you must,but they would be uttered！”

Conrad was speechless.Constance hesitated a moment,and then,misinterpreting his silence,a wild gladness flamed in her eyes,and she flung her arms about his neck and said：

“You relent！You relent！You can love me-you will love me！Oh,say you will,my own,my worshipped Conrad！”

Conrad groaned aloud.A sickly pallor overspread his countenance,and he trembled like an aspen.Presently,in desperation,he thrust the poor girl from him,and cried：

“You know not what you ask！It is forever and ever impossible！”And then he fled like a criminal and left the princess stupefied with amazement.A minute afterward she was crying and sobbing there,and Conrad was crying and sobbing in his chamber.Both were in despair.Both saw ruin staring them in the face.

By and by Constance rose slowly to her feet and moved away,saying：

“To think that he was despising my love at the very moment that I thoughtit was melting his cruel heart！I hate him！He spurned me-did this man-he spurned me from him like a dog！”第四章　吓人的发现Chapter Ⅳ　The Awful Revelation

不久，一个传闻立刻风靡了宫城内外、大街小巷：公主怀孕了！

克鲁根斯坦公爵听到这个消息，兴奋万分：“代特钦顺利地完成使命了！康拉德公爵万岁！”ime passed on.A settled sadness rested once more upon the countenance of the good Duke’s daughter.She and Conrad were Tseen together no more now.The Duke grieved at this.But as the weeks wore away,Conrad’s color came back to his checks and his old-time vivacity to his eye,and he administered the government with a clear and steadily ripening wisdom.

Presently a strange whisper began to be heard about the palace.It grew louder；it spread farther.The gossips of the city got hold of it.It swept the dukedom.And this is what the whisper said：

“The Lady Constance hath given birth to a child！”

When the lord of Klugenstcin heard it,he swung his plumed helmet thrice around his head and shouted：

“Long live.Duke Conrad！—for lo,his crown is sure,from this day forward！Detzin has done his errand well,and the good scoundrel shall be rewarded！”

And he spread the tidings far and wide,and for eight-and-forty hours no soul in all the barony but did dance and sing,carouse and illuminate,to celebrate the great event,and all at proud and happy old Klugenstein’s expense.第五章　可怕的灾难Chapter Ⅴ　The Frightful Catastrophe

对公主的审判很快就开始了。按照规定，要由代理公爵康拉德坐在大公的宝座上对康斯坦斯公主做出判决，康拉德忐忑不安地坐在公爵座位上，手持权杖，对公主宣判道：“你犯了不可饶恕的罪过，如果你不能供出他是谁，你将必须接受绞刑的惩罚！”

这时，康斯坦斯公主指着康拉德说：“这个人就是你！”

对于这样的指控，康拉德不知如何去辩白，瘫软在地。一八七零年he trial was at hand.All the great lords and barons of Brandenburgh were assembled in the Hall of Justice in the ducal Tpalace.No space was left unoccupied where there was room for a spectator to stand or sit.Conrad,clad in purple and ermine,sat in the premier’s chair,and on either side sat the great judges of the realm.The old Duke had sternly commanded that the trial of his daughter should proceed,without favor,and then had taken to his bed broken-hearted.His days were numbered.Poor Conrad had begged,as for his very life,that he might be spared the misery of sitting in judgment upon his cousin’s crime,but it did not avail.

The saddest heart in all that great assemblage was in Conrad’s breast.

The gladdest was in his father’s.For,unknown to his daughter“Conrad，”the old Baron Klugenstein was come,and was among the crowd of nobles,triumphant in the swelling fortunes of his house.

After the heralds had made due proclamation and the other preliminaries had followed,the venerable Lord Chief Justice said：

“Prisoner,stand forth！”

The unhappy princess rose and stood unveiled before the vast multitude.The Lord Chief Justice continued：

“Most noble lady,before the great judges of this realm it hath been charged and proven that out of holy wedlock your Grace hath given birth unto a child；and by our ancient law the penalty is death,excepting in one sole contingency,where of his Grace the acting Duke,our good Lord Conrad,willadvertise you in his solemn sentence now；wherefore,give heed.”

Conrad stretched forth the reluctant sceptre,and in the selfsame moment the womanly heart beneath his robe yearned pityingly toward the doomed prisoner,and the tears came into his eyes.He opened his lips to speak,but the Lord Chief Justice said quickly：

“Not there,your Grace,not there！It is not lawful to pronounce judgment upon any of the ducal line SAVE FROM THE DUCAL THRONE！”

A shudder went to the heart of poor Conrad,and a tremor shook the iron frame of his old father likewise.CONRAD HAD NOT BEEN CROWNED-dared he profane the throne？He hesitated and turned pale with fear.But it must be done.Wondering eyes were already upon him.They would be suspicious eyes if he hesitated longer.He ascended the throne.Presently he stretched forth the sceptre again,and said：

“Prisoner,in the name of our sovereign lord,Ulrich,Duke of Brandenburgh,I proceed to the solemn duty that hath devolved upon me.Give heed to my words.By the ancient law of the land，.except you produce the partner of your guilt and deliver him up to the executioner,you must surely die.Embrace this opportunity-save yourself while yet you may.Name the father of your child！”

A solemn hush fell upon the great court-a silence so profound that men could hear their own hearts beat.Then the princess slowly turned,with eyes gleaming with hate,and pointing her finger straight at Conrad,said：

“Thou art the man！”

An appalling conviction of his helpless,hopeless peril struck a chill to Conrad’s heart like the chill of death itself.What power on earth could save him！To disprove the charge,he must reveal that he was a woman；and for an uncrowned woman to sit in the ducal chair was death！At one and the same moment,he and his grim old father swooned and fell to the ground.

[The remainder of this thrilling and eventful story will NOT be found in this or any other publication,either now or at any future time.]

The truth is,I have got my hero（or heroine）into such a particularly closeplace,that I do not see how I am ever going to get him（or her）out of it again-and therefore I will wash my hands of the whole business,and leave that person to get out the best way that offers-or else stay there.I thought it was going to be easy enough to straighten out that little difficulty,but it looks different now.[Written about 1870]田纳西的新闻业　Journalism in Tennessee导读

由于同《孟菲斯雪崩报》的总主编产生了笔墨冲突，于是，我南下来到田纳西州，在《晨曦辉耀与约翰逊县战地呼声报》担任编辑。

我去上班那天，看到总编斜坐在一把三条腿的椅子里，两脚搭在一张松木桌子上，一边抽着雪茄，一边似乎在苦思冥想着某篇评论员文章。看我走进办公室，他吩咐我摘录各个报纸的有趣材料，写一篇《田纳西各报要闻集锦》。

稿件很快就完成了，我把它递给总编。总编的脸上露出非常不满的情绪：“如此索然无味的文章，谁能有兴趣读下去？把笔给我！”

于是，他开始大肆涂改起来。忽然，一颗子弹从窗外飞进来，打中了我的一只耳朵。总编迅速掏出左轮手枪朝窗外放了一枪，然后若无其事地继续修改稿件。这时，一颗手榴弹从火炉的烟囱里滑下来，炸碎了火炉，同时崩飞了我的两颗门牙。“火炉算是毁了。”总编一边感慨，一边把改得体无完肤的稿件递给我，其言辞尖锐辛辣，充满了炮火硝烟。

这时，上校走进办公室，二人客气地寒暄几句，随即展开了激烈的枪战。结果，六发子弹有五发都打在我这个局外人的身上。第六发打中了上校的要害，枪战以总编的胜利而告终。

上校起身离去。总编告诉我，他约了客人，要我帮忙接待一下来客。我刚体验了一番总编待客的方式，不禁倒吸一口凉气。一下午，我被他的各种访客，包括赌棍、政客、编辑、流氓团团围住，我被打得遍体鳞伤。这时，总编带领着一群朋友赶来，一场残酷的械斗由此展开。最终，平静下来的办公室里，仅剩下血迹斑斑的总编和伤痕累累的我端坐在那里。

田纳西的新闻界的作风，我实在是接受不了，于是，我辞别总编，前往医院休息。一八七一年he editor of the Memphis Avalanche swoops thus mildly down upon a correspondent who posted him as a Radical：—“While he Twas writing the first word,the middle,dotting his i’s,crossing his t’s,and punching his period,he knew he was concocting a sentence that was saturated with infamy and reeking with falsehood.”—Exchange.

I was told by the physician that a Southern climate would improve my health,and so I went down to Tennessee,and got a berth on the Morning Glory and Johnson County War-Whoop as associate editor.When I went on duty I found the chief editor sitting tilted back in a three-legged chair with his feet on a pine table.There was another pine table in the room and another afflicted chair,and both were half buried under newspapers and scraps and sheets of manuscript.There was a wooden box of sand,sprinkled with cigar stubs and“old soldiers，”and a stove with a door hanging by its upper hinge.The chief editor had a long-tailed black cloth frock-coat on,and white linen pants.His boots were small and neatly blacked.He wore a ruffled shirt,a large seal-ring,a standing collar of obsolete pattern,and a checkered neckerchief with the ends hanging down.Date of costume about 1848.He was smoking a cigar,and trying to think of a word,and in pawing his hair he had rumpled his locks a good deal.He was scowling fearfully,and I judged that he was concocting a particularly knotty editorial.He told me to take the exchanges and skim through them and write up the“Spirit of the Tennessee Press，”condensing into the article all of their contents that seemed of interest.

I wrote as follows：SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS

The editors of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake evidently labor under a misapprehension with regard to the Dallyhack railroad.It is not the object ofthe company to leave Buzzardville off to one side.On the contrary,they consider it one of the most important points along the line,and consequently can have no desire to slight it.The gentlemen of the Earthquake will,of course,take pleasure in making the correction.

John W.Blossom,Esq.，the able editor of the Higgins ville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom,arrived in the city yesterday,He is stopping at the Van Buren House.

We observe that our contemporary of the Mud Springs Morning Howl has fallen into the error of supposing that the election of Van Wetter is not an established fact,but he will have discovered his mistake before this reminder reaches him,no doubt.He was doubtless misled by incomplete election returns.

It is pleasant to note that the city of Blathersville is endeavoring to contract with some New York gentlemen to pave its well-nigh impassable streets with the Nicholson pavement.The Daily Hurrah urges the measure with ability,and seems confident of ultimate success.

I passed my manuscript over to the chief editor for acceptance,alteration,or destruction.He glanced at it and his face clouded.He ran his eye down the pages,and his countenance grew portentous.It was easy to see that something was wrong.Presently he sprang up and said：

“Thunder and lightning！Do you suppose I am going to speak of those cattle that way？Do you suppose my subscribers are going to stand such gruel as that？Give me the pen！”

I never saw a pen scrape and scratch its way so viciously,or plow through another man’s verbs and adjectives so relentlessly.While he was in the midst of his work,somebody shot at him through the open window,and marred the symmetry of my ear.

“Ah，”said he，“that is that scoundrel Smith,of the Moral Volcano-he was due yesterday.”And he snatched a navy revolver from his belt and fired-Smith dropped,shot in the thigh.The shot spoiled Smith’s aim,who was just taking a second chance and he crippled a stranger.It was me.Merely a finger shot off.

Then the chief editor went on with his erasure；and interlineations.Just ashe finished them a hand grenade came down the stove-pipe,and the explosion shivered the stove into a thousand fragments.However,it did no further damage,except that a vagrant piece knocked a couple of my teeth out.

“That stove is utterly ruined，”said the chief editor.

I said I believed it was.

“Well,no matter-don’t want it this kind of weather.I know the man that did it.I’ll get him.Now,here is the way this stuff ought to be written.”

I took the manuscript.It was scarred with erasures and interlineations till its mother wouldn’t have known it if it had had one.It now read as follows：SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS

The inveterate liars of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake are evidently endeavoring to palm off upon a noble and chivalrous people another of their vile and brutal.falsehoods with regard to that most glorious conception of the nineteenth century,the Ballyhack railroad.The idea that Buzzardville was to be left off at one side originated in their own fulsome brains-or rather in the settlings which they regard as brains.They had better,swallow this lie if they want to save their abandoned reptile carcasses the cowhiding they so richly deserve.

That ass,Blossom,of the Higginsville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom,is down here again sponging at the van Buren.

We observe that the besotted blackguard of the Mud Springs Morning Howl is giving out,with his usual propensity for lying,that Van Wetter is not elected.The heavenborn mission of journalism is to disseminate truth；to eradicate error；to educate,refine,and elevate the tone of public motals and manners,and make all men more gentle,more virtuous,more charitable,and in all ways better,and holier,and happier；and yet this blackhearted scoundrel degrades his great office persistently to the dissemination of falsehood,calumny,vituperation,and vulgarity.

Blathersville wants a Nicholson pavement-it wants a jail and a poorhouse more.The idea of a pavement in a one-horse town composed of two gin-mills,a blacksmith shop,and that mustard-plaster of a newspaper,the Daily Hurrah！The crawling insect,Buckner,who edits the Hurrah,is braying about his business with his customary imbecility,and imagining that he istalking sense.

“Now that is the way to write-peppery and to the point.Mush-and-milk journalism gives me the fan-tods.”

About this time a brick came through the window with a splintering crash,and gave me a considerable of a jolt in the back.I moved out of range-I began to feel in the way.

The chief said，“That was the Colonel,likely.I’ve been expecting him for two days.He will be up now right away.”

He was correct.The Colonel appeared in the door a moment afterward with a dragoon revolver in his hand.

He said，“Sir,have I the honor of addressing the poltroon who edits this mangy sheet？”

“You have.Be seated,sir.Be careful of the chair,one of its legs is gone.I believe I have the honor of addressing the putrid liar,Colonel Blatherskite Tecumseh？”

“Right,sir.I have a little account to settle with you.If you are at leisure we will begin.”

“I have an article on the‘Encouraging Progress of Moral and Intellectual Development in America,to finish,but there is no hurry.Begin.”

Both pistols rang out their fierce clamor at the same instant.The chief lost a lock of his hair,and the Colonel’s bullet ended its career in the fleshy part of my thigh.The Colonel’s left shoulder was clipped a little.They fired again.Both missed their men this time,but I got my share,a shot in the arm.At the third fire both gentlemen were wounded slightly,and I had a knuckle chipped.I then said,I believed I would go out and take a walk,as this was a private matter,and I had a delicacy about participating in it further.But both gentlemen begged me to keep my seat,and assured me that I was not in the way.

They then talked about the elections and the crops while they reloaded,and I fell to tying up my wounds.But presently they opened fire again with animation,and every shot took effect-but it is proper to remark that five out of the six fell to my share.The sixth one mortally wounded the Colonel,who remarked,with fine humor,that he would have to say good morning now,as he had business uptown.He then inquired the way to the undertaker’s and left.

The chief turned to me and said，“I am expecting company to dinner,and shall have to get ready.It will be a favor to me if you will

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