Multimedia Mania/abacus-multimedia-mania.iso/dp/0134/01341.txt

Text File | 1993-07-27 | 16KB | 296 lines

$Unique_ID{bob01341}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn, The
All Full Of Tears And Flapdoodle}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Twain, Mark}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{says
king
duke
it's
hands
like
poor
ain't
come
way}
$Date{}
$Log{}
Title:       Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn, The
Author:      Twain, Mark

All Full Of Tears And Flapdoodle

     The news was all over town in two minutes, and you could see the people
tearing down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on their
coats as they come.  Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd, and the
noise of the tramping was like a soldier march.  The windows and dooryards
was full; and every minute somebody would say, over a fence:

     "Is it them?"

     And somebody trotting along with the gang would answer back and say:

     "You bet it is."

     When we got to the house the street in front of it was packed, and the
three girls was standing in the door.  Mary Jane was red-headed, but that
don't make no difference, she was most awful beautiful, and her face and her
eyes was all lit up like glory, she was so glad her uncles was come.  The
king he spread his arms, and Mary Jane she jumped for them, and the harelip
jumped for the duke, and there they had it!  Everybody most, leastways
women, cried for joy to see them meet again at last and have such good times.

     Then the king he hunched the duke private - I see him do it - and then
he looked around and see the coffin, over in the corner on two chairs; so
then him and the duke, with a hand across each other's shoulder, and t'other
hand to their eyes, walked slow and solemn over there, everybody dropping
back to give them room, and all the talk and noise stopping, people saying
"'Sh!" and all the men taking their hats off and drooping their heads, so you
could 'a' heard a pin fall.  And when they got there they bent over and
looked in the coffin, and took one sight, and then they bust out a-crying so
you could 'a' heard them to Orleans, most; and then they put their arms
around each other's necks, and hung their chins over each other's shoulders;
and then for three minutes, or maybe four, I never see two men leak the way
they done.  And, mind you, everybody was doing the same; and the place was
that damp I never see anything like it.  Then one of them got on one side of
the coffin, and t'other on t'other side, and they kneeled down and rested
their foreheads on the coffin, and let on to pray all to themselves.  Well,
when it come to that it worked the crowd like you never see anything like it,
and everybody broke down and went to sobbing right out loud - the poor girls,
too; and every woman nearly, went up to the girls, without saying a word, and
kissed them, solemn, on the forehead, and then put their hand on their head,
and looked up towards the sky, with the tears running down, and then busted
out and went off sobbing and swabbing, and give the next woman a show.  I
never see anything so disgusting.

     Well, by and by the king he gets up and comes forward a little, and
works himself up and slobbers out a speech, all full of tears and flapdoodle,
about its being a sore trial for him and his poor brother to lose the
diseased, and to miss seeing diseased alive after the long journey of four
thousand mile, but it's a trial that's sweetened and sanctified to us by this
dear sympathy and these holy tears, and so he thanks them out of his heart
and out of his brother's heart, because out of their mouths they can't, words
being too weak and cold, and all that kind of rot and slush, till it was just
sickening; and then he blubbers out a pious goody-goody Amen, and turns
himself loose and goes to crying fit to bust.

     And the minute the words were out of his mouth somebody over in the
crowd struck up the doxolojer, and everybody joined in with all their might,
and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as church letting out.
Music is a good thing; and after all that soul-butter and hogwash I never see
it freshen up things so, and sound so honest and bully.

     Then the king begins to work his jaw again, and says how him and his
nieces would be glad if a few of the main principal friends of the family
would take supper here with them this evening, and help set up with the ashes
of the diseased; and says if his poor brother laying yonder could speak he
knows who he would name, for they was names that was very dear to him, and
mentioned often in his letters; and so he will name the same, to wit, as
follows, viz.: - Rev Mr. Hobson, and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Mr. Ben Rucker,
and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and
the widow Bartley.

     Rev. Hobson and Dr. Robinson was down to the end of the town a-hunting
together - that is, I mean the doctor was shipping a sick man to t'other
world, and the preacher was pinting him right.  Lawyer Bell was away up to
Louisville on business.  But the rest was on hand, and so they all come and
shook hands with the king and thanked him and talked to him; and then they
shook hands with the duke and didn't say nothing, but just kept a-smiling and
bobbing their heads like a passel of sapheads whilst he made all sorts of
signs with his hands and said "Goo-goo - goo-goo-goo" all the time, like a
baby that can't talk.

     So the king he blattered along, and managed to inquire about pretty much
everybody and dog in town, by his name, and mentioned all sorts of little
things that happened one time or another in the town, or to George's family,
or to Peter.  And he always let on that Peter wrote him the things; but that
was a lie: he got every blessed one of them out of that young flathead that
we canoed up to the steamboat.

     Then Mary Jane she fetched the letter her father left behind, and the
king he read it out loud and cried over it.  It give the dwelling-house and
three thousand dollars, gold, to the girls; and it give the tanyard (which
was doing a good business), along with some other houses and land (worth
about seven thousand), and three thousand dollars in gold to Harvey and
William, and told where the six thousand cash was hid down cellar.  So these
two frauds said they'd go and fetch it up, and have everything square and
aboveboard; and told me to come with a candle.  We shut the cellar door
behind us, and when they found the bag they spilt it out on the floor, and it
was a lovely sight, all them yaller-boys.  My, the way the king's eyes did
shine!  He slaps the duke on the shoulder and says:

     "Oh, this ain't bully nor noth'n!  Oh, no, I reckon not!  Why, Biljy, it
beats the Nonesuch, don't it?"

     The duke allowed it did.  They pawed the yaller-boys, and sifted them
through their fingers and let them jingle down on the floor; and the king
says:

     "It ain't no use talkin'; bein' brothers to a rich dead man and
representatives of furrin heirs that's got left is the line for you and me,
Bilge.  Thish yer come of trust'n to Providence.  It's the best way, in the
long run.  I've tried 'em all, and ther' ain't no better way."

     Most everybody would 'a' been satisfied with the pile, and took it on
trust; but no, they must count it.  So they counts it, and it comes out four
hundred and fifteen dollars short.  Says the king:

     "Dern him, I wonder what he done with that four hundred and fifteen
dollars?"

     They worried over that awhile, and ransacked all around for it.  Then
the duke says:

     "Well, he was a pretty sick man, and likely he made a mistake - I reckon
that's the way of it.  The best way's to let it go, and keep still about it.
We can spare it."

     "Oh, shucks, yes, we can spare it.  I don't k'yer noth'n 'bout that -
it's the count I'm thinkin' about.  We want to be awful square and open and
aboveboard here, you know.  We want to lug this h'yer money up-stairs and
count it before everybody - then ther' ain't noth'n suspicious.  But when the
dead man says ther's six thous'n dollars, you know, we don't want to -"

     "Hold on," says the duke.  "Le's make up the deffisit," and he begun to
haul out yaller-boys out of his pocket.

     "It's a most amaz'n' good idea, duke - you have got a rattlin' clever
head on you," says the king.  "Blest if the old Nonesuch ain't a heppin' us
out ag'in," and he begun to haul out yaller-jackets and stack them up.

     It most busted them, but they made up the six thousand clean and clear.

     "Say," says the duke, "I got another idea.  Le's go up-stairs and count
this money, and then take and give it to the girls."

     "Good land, duke, lemme hug you!  It's the most dazzling idea 'at ever a
man struck.  You have cert'nly got the most astonishin' head I ever see.  Oh,
this is the boss dodge, ther' ain't no mistake 'bout it.  Let 'em fetch along
their suspicions now if they want to - this 'll lay 'em out."

     When we got up-stairs everybody gethered around the table, and the king
he counted it and stacked it up, three hundred dollars in a pile - twenty
elegant little piles.  Everybody looked hungry at it, and licked their chops.
Then they raked it into the bag again, and I see the king begin to swell
himself up for another speech.  He says:

     "Friends all, my poor brother that lays yonder has done generous by them
that's left behind in the vale of sorrers.  He has done generous by these yer
poor little lambs that he loved and sheltered, and that's left fatherless and
motherless.  Yes, and we that knowed him knows that he would 'a' done more
generous by 'em if he hadn't been afeared o' woundin' his dear William and
me.  Now, wouldn't he?  Ther' ain't no question 'bout it in my mind.  Well,
then, what kind o' brothers would it be that 'd stand in his way at sech a
time?  And what kind o' uncles would it be that'd rob - yes, rob - sech poor
sweet lambs as these 'at he loved so at sech a time?  If I know William - and
I think I do - he - well, I'll jest ask him."  He turns around and begins to
make a lot of signs to the duke with his hands, and the duke he looks at him
stupid and leather-headed awhile; then all of a sudden he seems to catch his
meaning, and jumps for the king, goo-gooing with all his might for joy, and
hugs him about fifteen times before he lets up.  Then the king says, "I
knowed it; I reckon that 'll convince anybody the way he feels about it.
Here, Mary Jane, Susan, Joanner, take the money - take it all.  It's the gift
of him that lays yonder, cold but joyful."

     Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the harelip went for the duke, and
then such another hugging and kissing I never see yet.  And everybody crowded
up with the tears in their eyes, and most shook the hands off of them frauds,
saying all the time:

     "You dear good souls! - how lovely! - how could you!"

     Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the diseased
again, and how good he was, and what a loss he was, and all that; and before
long a big iron-jawed man worked himself in there from outside, and stood
a-listening and looking, and not saying anything; and nobody saying anything
to him either, because the king was talking and they was all busy listening.
The king was saying - in the middle of something he'd started in on -

     "- they bein' partickler friends o' the diseased.  That's why they're
invited here this evenin'; but to-morrow we want all to come - everybody; for
he respected everybody, he liked everybody, and so it's fitten that his
funeral orgies sh'd be public."

     And so he went a-mooning on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and
every little while he fetched in his funeral orgies again, till the duke he
couldn't stand it no more; so he writes on a little scrap of paper,
"Obsequies, you old fool," and folds it up, and goes to goo-gooing and
reaching it over people's heads to him.  The king he reads it and puts it in
his pocket, and says:

     "Poor William, afflicted as he is, his heart's aluz right.  Asks me to
invite everybody to come to the funeral - wants me to make 'em all welcome.
But he needn't 'a' worried - it was jest what I was at."

     Then he weaves along again, perfectly ca'm, and goes to dropping in his
funeral orgies again every now and then, just like he done before.  And when
he done it the third time he says:

     "I says orgies, not because it's the common term, because it ain't -
obsequies bein' the common term - but because orgies is the right term.
Obsequies ain't used in England no more now - it's gone out.  We say orgies
now in England.  Orgies is better, because it means the thing you're after
more cexact.  It's a word that's made up out'n the Greek orgo, outside, open,
abroad; and the Hebrew jeesum, to plant, cover up; hence inter.  So, you see,
funeral orgies is an open er public funeral."

     He was the worst I ever struck.  Well, the iron-jawed man he laughed
right in his face.  Everybody was shocked.  Everybody says, "Why doctor!" and
Abner Shackleford says:

     "Why, Robinson, hain't you heard the news?  This is Harvey Wilks."

     The king he smiled eager, and shoved out his flapper, and says:

     "Is it my poor brother's dear good friend and physician?  I -"

     "Keep your hands off me!" says the doctor.  "You talk like an
Englishman, don't you?  It's the worst imitation I ever heard.  You Peter
Wilks's brother!  You're a fraud, that's what you are!"

     Well, how they all took on!  They crowded around the doctor and tried to
quiet him down, and tried to explain to him and tell him how Harvey's showed
in forty ways that he was Harvey, and knowed everybody by name, and the names
of the very dogs, and begged and begged him not to hurt Harvey's feelings and
the poor girls' feelings, and all that.  But it warn't no use; he stormed
right along, and said any man that pretended to be an Englishman and couldn't
imitate the lingo no better than what he did was a fraud and a liar.  The
poor girls was hanging to the king and crying, and all of a sudden the doctor
ups and turns on them.  He says:

     "I was your father's friend, and I'm your friend; and I warn you as a
friend, and an honest one that wants to protect you and keep you out of harm
and trouble, to turn your backs on that scoundrel and have nothing to do with
him, the ignorant tramp, with his idiotic Greek and Hebrew, as he calls it.
He is the thinnest kind of an impostor - has come here with a lot of empty
names and facts which he picked up somewheres; and you take them for proofs,
and are helped to fool yourselves by these foolish friends here, who ought to
know better.  Mary Jane Wilks, you know me for your friend, and for your
unselfish friend, too.  Now listen to me; turn this pitiful rascal out - I
beg you to do it.  Will you?"

     Mary Jane straightened herself up, and my, but she was handsome!  She
says:

     "Here is my answer."  She hove up the bag of money and put it in the
king's hands, and says,

     "Take this six thousand dollars, and invest for me and my sisters any
way you want to, and don't give us no receipt for it."

     Then she put her arm around the king on one side, and Susan and the
hare-lip done the same on the other.  Everybody clapped their hands and
stomped on the floor like a perfect storm, whilst the king held up his head
and smiled proud.  The doctor says:

     "All right; I wash my hands of the matter.  But I warn you all that a
time's coming when you're going to feel sick whenever you think of this day."
And away he went.

     "All right, doctor," says the king, kinder mocking him; "we'll try and
get 'em to send for you"; which made them all laugh, and they said it was a
prime good hit.