Humor. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2051, 29 August 1885, Page 6 (Supplement)

Humor. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

By Maiik Twun.

(continued.) Fivn's distinguished friends now decide to give a show at the first riverside township and map out a programme in which the French King is cast for the part of Juliet. After dinner, tho duke says : " Well, Cspet. we'll want to make this a firstclass show, you know, so I guess we'll add a littlo more to it. We want a littla something to answer encores with, anyway." " What's onkores, Bilgewater ? " Tho duke told him, and then says : " I'll answer by doing the Highland fling or tho sailor's hornpipe; and you— well, let me Ree— ob, vo got it— you can do Hamlet'a soliloquy." "Hamlet's •which!" 11 Hamlet's soliloquy, you know ; the most

celebrated thing in Shakespeare. Ah, it's sublime, sublime I Always fetches the hcu?c. I haven't got it in the book— l've only got one volume— but I reckon I ciin pitco it out from memory. I'll ju3t wulk up und down a minute, ami see it I c.n call it back from rci'ollcction'H vault's." So ho wont to marching up ana down, thwkinx, and frownia;' horribly every now nn<l then ; then hn wouM lioifct up lm evebrowa; next ho would tqn a (.y.o hia hai.d on hi? forchcft-3 and stagger back ami kind of monn ; next In would si^h, find ntxt he'd let on to drop p. tpnr. It wan beautiful to '(c him. By and-by he got it. Ho told 119 to attention. Then heßtiikee a most ncblo attitndo, with one kg shoved forwards, and hi 1 ? arms Htietcht-d away up, and hij hpwl tiltid b&ck, lubking up at the sky ; and then he bopiua to rip and r3ve and grit hU tuth : and after that, all through hii hpcrch he howled, and «prcad around, und swelled up hi.* cheat, and just knocked the ypotd out of unv :i..(ing ever / sen before. This it* the speech— I learnt d it, easy enough, while he was learning it, to the king: To be, or not to bo ; that is the bare bo lkin That makes calamity cf fo loug life ; For who would fardelj bear, till Biinam Wood do come to Dunsinane, But that the fear of something after death Murders the innocent sleep, Great nature's seoond course, And makes us rather sling the arrov>M of outrageous fortune Than fly to others that we know not of. There's the respect must give us pau e e : Wake Duncan with thy knocking 1 I would thou could°t ; For who would bear the whips and scorna ol time, The oppressors wroni, the proud man'B contumely, The law's delay, and the quietus which his pangs mi;;ht take, In the dead waste and middle of the night, when churchyards yawn In customary buito of solemn black, But that the undiscovered country frcm who&c bourne no traveller return?, Breathes forth contagion on the world, And thu3 tho native huo of resolution like tho poor cat i' the adage, Is pickSied o'er with care, And all tho clouds that lowered o'er our housetops, With this regard their cmrents turn awiy, And loae tho name of action. 'Tis a conpummation devoutly to bo wished. Bat soft you, the fair Ophelia : Ope not thy ponderous and marble jawa, But get thee to a nunnery — go 1 Well, the old man he liked that speech, and ho mighty soon got it so ho could do it liratrato. It seemed like he was juat born for it ; and when ho had his hand in and was excited, it was perfectly lovely the way ho would rip and tear and rair up behind when he was getting it off. The first chance we got, the duke ho had some show bills printed ; and after that, for two or three days as we floated along, the laft was a most uncommon lively place, for thero warn't nothing but sword-fighting and rehearsing — as the duke called it— going on all the time. One morninp, when we was pretty well down the State of Arkansaw, we come in sight of a little one-horse to.vn in a big bend ; bo we tied up about three-quarters of a mile above it, in tho mouth of a crick which wa3 shut in like a tunnel by the cypress trees, and all of us but Jim took the cauoe, and went down there to s»e if thtra was any ohance in that place for our show. We struck it mighty lucky ; there wa«i going to be a circus there that afternoon, and the country people was already beginning to come in, in all kinds of old shackly wagons, and on horses. The circii3 would leave before night, so our Bhow would have a pretty good chance. The duke ho hired the court hnnse, and wo went around and stuck up cur bills. They read hko this : S'naLsperean Revival 1 ! 1 Wonderful Attraction ! For One Night Only 1 The world renowned tragedians, David Garrick the younger, of Drury Lane Theatre, London, and Edmund Kean the elder, of the lloyal Haymarkct Theatre, Whitecbapel, Pudding Lano, Piccadilly, London, and the Itoyal Continental Theatres, in their sublime Shakeapsrean Spectacle entitled The Balcony Scene in Borneo and Juliet ! ! ! Ilomeo Mr. Giirrick Juliet Mr. Kean Assisted by the whole strength of the company 1 New costumes, now eceuery, new appointments ! Alpo : The thrilling, masterly, and blood curdling Broad-sword conflict Iv liichard 111. .' I ! Richard 111 Mr. Garrick Iviohmond Mr. Kean. Also: (by special request) Hamlet'd Immortal Soliloquy I 1 By tho Illustrious Kean I Done by him 300 consecutive night 3 in Pari3 ! For One Night Only, On account of imperative European engagements ! Admission 25 cents, children and eenantp, 10 cents. Wo had our show ; but there warn't only about twelve people there ; just enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all the time, and that made the duke mad ; &nd everybody left, anyway, before the show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke said theap Arkansaw lunkheads couldn't come up to Shakspearo ; what they wanted was low cornedy — and maybe something rather worse than low comedy, he reckoned. He said he could size their etylo. So next morning he got some big sheets of wrappingpaper and some black paint, and clrawed oil some handbills and stuck them up all over the village. The billd said : AT THE COURT HOUSE 1 1011 3 Nldlir-! ONLY. The World-wnownfd Trnaerliovi DAVID GARRICK THE YOUNGER 1 AND EDMUND KEVNE THE ELDER! 0/ the London aud Continental Iheattcs. In their thrilling Tragedy of THE KING'S CAMELOPARD on THE ROYAL NONESUCH 1 ! 1 Ailiniisinn o0 cents. Then at the bottom was the biggest line of all — which said : LADIES .t CHILDREN NOT ADMITTED. " There," saya he, " if that line don't fetch them, I don't know Arkanpaw 1 " Well, all day him and the king was hard at it, rigging up n ptfige, and a curtain, and a row of candles for foot-hghta ; and that night tho house was jam full of men in no time. When the place couldn't hold no more, the duke he quit tending door and went around the back way and come on to the stage and stood up boforo the curtain, and made a little speeoh, and praised np this tragedy, and said it was tho most thrilhngeet one that ever was; and bo ho went on a-bragging about the tiagedy, and about Edmund Kean the Elder, which waa to piny the main principal part in it ; and at last when he'd got everybody's expectations up high enough, ho rolled up the curtain, and the next minute tho king come a prancing out on all fours, naked ; and he was painted allovtr, ring-slrcaked-and striped, all sorts of colours, as splendid aa a rainbow. And — but never mind the rest of his uutlit, it was just wild, but it was awful funny. The people most killed themselves laughing ; and when the king got done capering, and capsied oil behind the scones, they roarod and clapped and stormed and haw-hawed till ho come back and dune it over again ; and after that, thry mado him do it another time. Well, it would a mado a cow laugh to see the shines that old idiot cut. Then tho duke ho lels thej|curtain down, and bows to tho peoplp, and pays tho gieat

trngedy will bo performed only two nights mnro, (>n account of preying London engagermnts, where the seats is all fold already for it in the JXury Lsne; and then ho makes them n-nothpi'bo'v, and t-aj'KJf beha^ succeeded in yltv.ti'ig t! urn ni'd instructing tberu, bo wi Iho dt-iply ob!ecf_«l it they will nuntion it to then lut-mla tt'iil get t!iem to tome and an it. Twenty people out: *^< Mat, n n over ? Ii that all ? ' The duke says •' ycc." Then Uiero was a fiito time. Everybody sings out " fold," and ro^e up ruae", and was acoii^ for that stage at dthem tragedians. But a big, fiac-lookin<j ni<in jumps up on & bench, and thous : " Hold on! Juet a word, gentlemen." They stopped to listen. "We are cold — mighty badly cold. But wo don't want to be tho laughingstock of this wholo town, I tcikon, ar.d never hou thf> la'-t of thin thin^ a? lone as we live. .Y>'. What we want ia to yj nut of hero quiet, and talk tIiJH •■■how hj>, ta d Mll tho tat oi the town 1 Then we'll all he in iho fame boat, i*in't that sensible?' (' You bet it is !• —the jed^e is rybi '" e\eiybefy rai'Ji oui.) "All rifbt, iLrn— not a word about any Fell. Go ttlon^ horur, and aihiso everybody to come and tee the tiaprdy." Nixt day ycu couldn't hear nothing around that town but how splendid that show waif. Iloute was jammed hyain, lhat night, and we aoM this ciowd thf came way. When me and the biDjj and t!if duke got home to tho raft, ■\v c all hud a f upper , and by and-by, about midnight, ihey vimlc Jim and nse back her out and lloac htr down the middle of the mtr apJ fetch her in and bido her about two rail", below town. Tne thud night the house was crammed again — and they warn't new comerr, this time, but ptopl' that was at the hhow the other two nights. I otocd by tho duko at the door, and I tec that every man that went in had his pocketi bulging, or something muflled up under his cn\t—and I see it warn't no perfumery nnither, not by a long Eight. I Htnelt eioLly eggi by tho barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I Lnow the signs of a dead cat being around, and I b'.t I do, there was sixty four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me, I couldn't stand it. Well, when the place couldn't hold no more people, the duke hi give a fellow a quarter and told hioi to tend door for him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I bfter him ; but the minute wo turned the corner and was in the dark, he says: " Walk last, now, till you get away from the houser, Mid then shin for the raft like the dickens wan after you 1* I done it, and ho done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, and in lees than two reconda we was gliding down stream, all dark and still, and edging towards tho middle of the river, nobody saying a word. I reckoned tho poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience; but nothing of tho sort; pretty soon be crawlfl out from under the wigwam, and cays; " Well, how'd the old thing pan out thia tiror, Duke?" He hadn't been up town at all. We never showed a light till we was abont ten mils bslow that village. Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duka fairly laughed their bor.es loose over the way they'd served them people. Tho duke says: " Greenhorns, ilatheads 1 I knew the first house would be mum and let the rest of tho town get roped in ; and I knew they'd lay for us the third night, and consider it was their turn now. Well, it is their turn, atd I'd give aqmething to know how much they take for it. I would just like to know hovr they're puttirg in their opportunity. They can turn it into a picnio if they want to — they b ou^ht plenty provisions." Them rapscallions took in four hundred and auty-live dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagonload like that, before. By-and by, whon they was asleep and snoring, Jim says: " Don't it 'spriae you, da way dem kings carries on, Iluck?" "No," I *ays, "it donr." " AVhy don't it, Huck ?" " Well, it don't, because it's in tbe breed. I reckon they're all alike." "But, Huck, dese kings o1o 1 ourn is regular rapscallions; dats jist what dey ia; dey'a reglar rapscallions." " Well, that's what I'm a-saying; all lringfl is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out." "ladatso?" " You read about them once —you'll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this'n 'a a Sun-day-School Superintendent to A int. And look at Charles Second, and Louii Fourteen, an'lLDuis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and llichard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon hepturchiea that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He xoas a blofsora. He used to marry a new wife every day, aud chop off her head next morning. And ho would do it just as indifferent as jf he was ordering up fgge. 'Fetch up Nell Gwynn,' he says. Thty fetch*her up. Next morning, 'Chop off htr hcadl' And they chop it off. 'Fetch up Jane Shore,' he says; and up she comee. Next morning ' Chop off her head '—and they chop is off. 'R'ng up Fair Roaamun." Fair llcmmun answers tho bell. Next morning, ' Chop off her head.' And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had ho?j;ed & thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domeaday Book—which wrs a good name and stated the case. You don't know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cloanesfc I've struok in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it—give notioe?—give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all tho tea in Boston Harbour overboard, and whacks out a declaration ot independence, and dares them to come on. That was hii stylo—he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke cf Wellington. Well, what did he do?—ask him to 6how up ? No—drownded him in a butt cf mamscy, like a cat. S'pose people left money laying around where he was—what did he do ? He collared it. S'pose he contracted to do a thing ; and jou paid him, and didn't set down there and see that he done it —what did he do? He always done the other thing. S'pose he opened his mouth—what then? If he oidn'c shut it up powerful quick, he'd lose a he, Gvery time. That's the kind of a bug Henry wus; and if we'd a hod him along 'stead of our kings, he'd a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don't say that ourn ia latnba, because they ain't, when you romo right down to the cold facts; but they ain't nothing to tint old ram, anyway. All I say ia, Kings ia kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, thty're a mighty ornery lot. It's tbe way thty're raised." " But dia one do $viell bo like de nation, ntuk. 11 "Well, they all do, Jim. We can't help tho way a king smells; history don't tell no way." " Now de duke, he's a tolerble likely mm, in some way 3." " Yes, a duke's different. But not very dfferent. This one's a middling hard lot for a duke. When he's drunk, there ain't no near, sighted man could tell him from a king." " Well, anyways, I doan' hanker for no rro' un urn, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan'." " It's the way I feel, too, Jim. But we're got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and mako allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a coiiLtry that's out of kirgs." What was the use to tell Jim theso v arn't real kings aud dukes ? It wouldn't ad(ne no good; and besides, it was just as I said; you couldn't tell them frem the real kind. (To be Continued,