bumer. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2045, 15 August 1885, Page 6 (Supplement)

burner. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Tme humsr iv this book ih /iuer and more m.b<iued than in Maik TwmnV previous woiks, 'i«'d although ths< brilliant humorist h&3 . oped a btjla which would not ba easily icjpnhed fts his, it is j.everthelcßS a vt-rj v i'Vt-1 bojk Tae two chitf characters an> a i grg i'am>.d Jau and the boy Huck F'nn. Joi e*i_apea from aJa^try ana hides in an : !itH oh the Mi>ifr«ipi, wh-rehe rneeta hia <>)J f'lcnd Hue';, wno is running away from <i ■Uuoken Hthar. They s?ri ro a fragment of ■\ lumber lv.ft and on it m<ike voyage down -> iPiim by nig'td, l-idirg themselves sud the raft iv the day-time. R-ad> m who have met 11-jck Finn before (ii T'.-n Sawyer) will not bo Mirpiised to note that whenever Huok h cuuy'if, in a t : ght place and obl'«»cc] to explain, the truth oets >ull cu^plod bfforp he get* through Tho •-.•oat tvranemg portion" of the book 070 ttie ul yon tores do.vn tho river wiih two un'i pirable pa^?en^'ers, tho dui'e an.l tl.* king, v-ho pt-t in^o Ilnck'-' cino* 1 in a hurry to ■ C4i'O tho wrath of a i» uwitid and r.veiv'iHg iimd, v/iieso inhabitants' tuni cut lo a raau ia hot pur-nit of tbo va>__ abends T/iis is how liuc't ttlla the yarn : Oi c morning lib >ut day-bie&k, I found a cinoe and cros«td over a chute to tho main 'icre— if. T va-5 only two hut ciu'J yards- and u . J .rihd about a mile up a < ::o ! i amongst ihe c; preps woods, to see it I coaidn't ye; «jme b- rries. Jui-t as I wai pasamp a place where .t k ; nd of cow-path ciosa^d tho ci:ck, here c raca a couple of men tearing up the pith as t^bt as they could foot it. I thought 1 was a ,^onar, for whenever anybody v/as after anyb nly 1 judged it was me — or" maybe Jiua. I \\ n about to dig out horn tbera in a hurry, bii', they were pretty clo3e to me then.^and sing and b^'geJ me to save tboir lives— Viid t*i*y had.i'c Leen doinf; notnii.g, and was lv.ingcb.aßed for it— baid th^re \vi\a men and \]u;'i a-eoming. They wanted to jurap right in, but I says — " Don't you do it. I don't hear the dojjs Mid hordes yet; you've got time to orowd through the biui.h and get up tho Click a hft'ewnys; then you t-ike to the water and w^-ifdown to me and get in— that'll throw •> c Ao^ off the scent." Tney done it, and soon as they was aboard I lit out for oar tow-head, and m about five or ton minutes wa heard the dog« and the men * : -ay ofi, shou ting Wo heard t ht-rn come along 'nwud.x the cu'cK, but cou'dn't see them; t5t 5> 'v peemnd to ftop and fool around a while ; tlten.aa we got further and fu> th^r away all the timp, wa coulda'fc hardly hear them at sll ; by the time Tfe had left a mi c of woods behind u~ a id struck the river, ever) thing uaa quiet, ami paddled over to thp tow-head and hid in the cottou-wooda and w;h One of the=e fellows was r.bout seventy, or i.p v.ici l1 ', and had a bald head and very grpy *; i kers. H-e hnd an old battered-up elouch h,it on, and a grr asy blue woollen shir!,, and rt\;j el old blue jean britchej siiiffid into his boot tops, and homo knit fallases — no, be O'l,' had one. Ec had an o'd long tailed blue- j ans coat with slick brass buttons, flung dim I is arm, anil both of them had big fat r xti v. -Uiokiug carpet-bas;s. T l^ othtr fellow was about thirty and 'ir-'i'xd about as ornery. After breakfast we a 1 laid off nnd talked, and the first thing that come out was that these chaps didn't know on- another. " Wiat got you into trouble ?" cays the baklboad to t'other chap. Weil, I'd been selling an article to take t v - Urtar o3 the teeth -and it does take it oil ti,i>, aiid peneily tbe ena'tiel along with it — but I staid abjufc one night longer than I oi -"•! tJ. and wts ju-st in tbp act of sliding • 't.r w", n I ran across you on the trail this -idd of town, and you told me they wera ci v : % and begged me to help you to get off. S) 1 tolil you I waa exp^efcing troubb myself and would BL-drtter out with you. That's the whol • yarn — that's yourn?" ' VvMl, I'd ben a-runnin a little temperance levival thar, 'bout a week, and was the pet of cho wo nen-folks, big and little, for I wa3 m-ikin' it mighty warm for tho rummies, I tell you, and takin' aa much as five or six dollars a night — ten cents & bead, children and nipple free— and business a growin' all the time, when somehow or another a little repot t got around, last night, that I had a way of puttin' in my time wjih a private jug, on the sly. A nigger rousted me out this moroin', and told me the ! piopl' 1 was getherin' on the quiet, with their | di i,3 and horses, and they'd be along pretty Ho-ii am l give me 'bout half an hour's start, anil then run mo down, if they could ; and if they got me they'd tar and feather me and ride me on a rail, sure. I didn't wait for no bieakfa^t — I w&rn't hungry." " Old man," aays the young one. " I reckon wo mis'ht double toain it together ; what do jou t'nuk ?" " I ain't undisposed. What's your line— nsaialy ? " " Jour printer, by trade ; do a little in patent medicines ; theatre-actor— tragedy, you know; take a turn at mesmerism and phrenoIi5 ft v when there's a chanoe ; teaoh singing gcogrpphyischool for a ohange ; sling a lecture. pometimei— oh, Ido lots of things— most anything that comes handy, so as it ain't work, What's y&ur lay?" " I've done considerable in the doctoring way in my time. Layin' on o' hands is my best holt— for cancer, and paralysis, and sioh things ; and I k'n tell a fortune pretty good, when I'vo got somebody along to find out the facts for me. Preaohin's my line, too, and workin 1 camp meetin's ; and missionaryin' around." Nobody never said anything for a while ; then the young man hove a eigh and says— " Alas 1 " " What 're you alassin' about ? " says the baldlmad. " To think I should hare lived to be lead-

Ing Buoh a X'», and bo degraded down into such oorapv 1 .'." And ba ec-gun to wips the O!)iT)«*i o: In* *v* v.\;h a ta i. " IWn vi vi -i, n, !.in't the eow>any Rood invo>h IjV jou? 1 pf'js the biMt|t,Ad, prutty v"it >.nl Hp;)i'L. 1 Yes, it U pood fvon.jh for rua ; it's as pood a1?a 1 ? I il -nerve ; f. r \.ho frfo'ied p,-> so low; when I was so l"i 'li ? I did iiiyseif. I don't bl\iae yon, jjcHl in n — fvr from it; I don't blame anybody I derive it all. Let the cold world do its woi^t; uno thing I know — there's a grave somewhero for me. The world nisy go ou j'lbt as it's always done, and take everything from me — lovfd ones, property, everything — but it can't take that. Some day I'll He down in it and forget it all, and my poor broken heart will be at rest.'' He wenton a-wfpiag. " Drot your pore broken heart," says the baldhead : " what are you heavine your pore broken heart at w* f'r? We hain't done nothing." " No, I know yon haven't. I ain't blaming you, gcjatlemen. I brought myself down — yes, I did it myself It's light I should suffer—perfectly right — I don't make any moan." " Brought you down from whar ? Whar was you brought down from ? " " Ah, ynu would not believe rae ; the world never believes — lot it pass — 'tia no matter. The eeoret of my birth " "The secret of your birth ? Do you mean to say " " Gentlemen," says the young man, very solemn, " I will reveal it to you, for I feel I may have confidence in you. By rights lam a Jukel " Jim's eyes buggad out when he heard that; and I reckon mine did, too. Then the baldhead says : "No ! you can't mean it ? " " I>3. Mr preatgrand father, eldest son of the Duke of Bridge A'Htpr, fled to this country about the end of the last century, to breaths the pure air of fin dom ; intrried here, and died, leaving a son, his own father dying about the ssime time. The second «on of the late duke Prized the title and estates — the infant real dul't; wr-j ignored. lam the lineal descendant of thdt infant — I am the rightful Duke of Bidt}°wftti-r ; and here am I, forlorn, torn fi'om my high estate, hunted of men, despised by the cold world, ragged, worn, hparf, broker, and degraded to the companionship of ft-lons on a raft ! " Jim pitied him ever so much, and 30 did I. Wo tiied to comfort him, but he said it warn'fc much use, ha couldn't bo much comforted ; said if we was a mind to acknowledge him, that would do him more good than moat anything else ; so wo Daid we would, if he would tell us how. He said wo ought to bow, when w.« spoke to him, md say, " Tour Grace," or 11 My Lji-d," cr "Your Lordship" — and he wouMn't mind iC if wo called him plain "Bn-lgp water," which he said was a title, ar.yvva.l, niid. cot a name; and one of us ou^ht to wait on him at dinner, and to do any little thing for r im he wanted done. Well, that was all easy, so we done it. All through dinner Jim stood around and waited ou hiai, and sayu, " Will o' Grace have some o' dis, or tome o' that ? " and bo on, and a body could srf it was mighty pleasing to him. B<it the old man got pretty silent, bye-and-byc — Jidn't have much to say, and didn't look piPtty comfortable over «vlt that petting ohati was going on around that duke. He "ec;n dto have sonisihln^ on ins mind. So, along in the afternoon, he tays : "Ljoky hor* 1 , B>lge\valn,"' he says, " I'm nation sorry for yuu, bur you ain't the only person that's had troubles like that." " No I " 1 No, you ain't. You ain't tho only person that's ben snaked down wrongfully out'n ft high place." " A"ia3 1 " •• No, you ain't the only person that's had a secret of his birth." And by jings, he begins to cry. " Hold I What do you mean 1 " " Bilgewater, kin I trust you ? " says tha old man, still sort of sobbing. "To the bitter death ! " He took the old man by the hand and squeezed it, and saya, " The seoret of your being : speak I " " B Igewater, I am the late Dauphin ! " You het you Jim and me stared, this time. Thon the duka says : "You are what ?" "Yea, my friend, it is too true— your eyes is lookin' at this very moment on the pore disappeared Dauphin, Looy the Seventeen, son of Looy the Sixteen and Mary Antonette." " Yon ! At your age ! No ! Yon mean you're the late Charlemagne ; you must be pit or seven hundred years old, at the very least." " Trouble has done it, Bilgewater, trouble has done it; tronble has brung these gray hair-i and this piemature bakitnde. Yes, gentlemen, you see before you, in blue jeans ard misery, the wander in', exiled, trampledon. and sufferin' rightful King of Prance." Well, he cried and took on so, that me ond Jim didn't know hardly what to do, we wa3 po sorry— and so glad and proud we'd got him with us, too. So we get in, like wa done before with the duko, and tried to comfort him. But he said it warn't no use, nothing but to be dead and done with it all could do him any good ; though ho naiA it often made him feel easier and better for a while if people treated him according to his rights, and got down on one knee to speak to him, and always called him " Your Majesty," and waited on him first at mealp, and didn't lit down in his presence till he asked them. So Jim and me Bet tomajedtyinp him, and doing this and that and t'other for him, and standing up till be told us we might set down. Thia done him hpaps of good, and so he got cheerful and comfortable. But the duke kind of soured on him, and didn't look a bit satisfied with the way thiDg* was going; btill, the king acted real friendly towards him, and eaid the duke's great grandfather and all the other Dukes of Bilgewater was a good deal thought of by his father, and was allowed to come to the palace considerable ; bat the duke staid huffy a good while, till by-»nd-by the king says :—: — "Like as not we got to be together a blamed long time, on this h-yer raft, Bilgewater, and so what's the use o' your bein' sour ? It'll only make things oncomfortable, It ain't my fault. I warn't born a duke, it ain't yonr fault you warn'c born a king — so what's the use to worry ? Make the best o' things the way you find 'em, nays I — that's my motto. Thia ain't no bad thing that we've struok here— plenty grab and an easy life — come, give us your hand, Duke, and less all be friends." The duke done it, and Jim and me was pretty glid to see it. It took away all the uncomfortableness, and we felt mighty good over it, beoause it would a been a miserable business to have any unfriendliness on the raft ; for what you want, above all things, on a raft, is for everybody to be satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others. (To be continued.)