img The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson  /  Chapter 8 No.8 | 38.10%
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Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 3246    |    Released on: 27/11/2017

Tramples H

yal and enduring a nature that it will last through a whole lif

s better to be a young June-bug than an old b

ary now, to

ade, the Grand Mogul. A couple of trips made her wonted and easy-going at the work, and infatuated her with the stir and adventure and independence of steamboat

would have described it; for she had lived a steady life, and had banked four dollars every month in New Orleans as a provision for her old age. She said in the start that she had "put shoes on one bar'footed nigger to tromple on her with," and that one mistak

for the present. The officers were full of sympathy for her in her trouble, and made up a little purse for her. She resolved to go to her birthplace; she had frie

on recollections of his occasional acts of kindness to her. She gilded and otherwise decorated these, and made them very pleasant to contemplate. She began to long to see him. She would go and fawn upon him, slave-like-for this would have t

eam: maybe he would give her a trifle now and then-maybe a dollar, onc

also steal sugar and apples and other dainties for her to carry home-or give her a chance to pilfer them herself, which would answer just as well. And there was the church. She was a more rabid and devoted Methodist than eve

heroine of romance. The negroes hung enchanted upon the great story of her experiences, interrupting her all along with eager questions, with laughter, exclamations of delight and expressions of applause; and she was obliged to confe

ring the previous two years. Roxy came every day, and had many talks about the family a

rster's away den he kin when he's in de town; yes, en he lo

hambers, you's a-

; Marse Tom tole me so his own se

t de reason '

imme a chanst, mammy. De reason it ain

nds in astonishment

hundred dollahs for Marse Tom's gamblin' debts, en d

. Sakes alive, it's 'mos' enough to buy a tol'able good second-hand nig

ever stir outen my tracks if it ain't so. En, oh, my lan', ole Marse was je

that stately word. Roxy struggled with

nwhich

nhurri

t? What do

bu'sted

m so! Take it back, you mis'able imitation n

g to ruin before her eyes. She could not abide such a disaster as th

us is imitation white-dat's what we is-en pow'ful good imitation, too-

head, en tell me 'bout de will. Tell me 'tain

all right ag'in. But what is you in sich a sweat 'bout it

, or wusn't I?-you answer me dat. En you speck I could see him turned out po' en ornery on de worl' en never care noth'n

ive him en fixed up de wil

d at last she was told that Tom had come home. She began to tremble with emotion, and straight

tor of his boyhood; it was still bitter and uncompromising. He sat up and bent a severe gaze upon the fair face of the young fellow whose name he was unconsci

he old rip w

n was meekl

ome and disturb me with the s

shield, saying no word: the victim received each blow with a beseeching, "Please, Marse Tom!-oh, please, Marse Tom!" Seven blows-then Tom said, "Face the door-march!" He followed behind with

"He arrived just at the right moment; I was full to the brim with bitter thi

rest can impart to the words and attitudes of the born slave. She stopped a yard from her boy and made two or three admiring exclamations over his m

Tom! 'deed I wouldn't! Look at me good; does you 'member old Roxy?-does you know yo'

it, cut it short! W

se Tom, al'ays so gay and funnin' w

l you, and get along

two rebuffs to convince her that he was not funning, and that her beautiful dream was a fond and foolish vanity, a shabby and pitiful mistake. She was hurt to the heart, and so ashamed that for a moment she did not quite know what to do or

e days; en she's kinder crippled in de arms en can't work

nly that the supplicant was

ion to strangle you! Is that your errand

door. When she was half-way sh

most a young man; en now you is young en rich, en I is po' en gitt'n ole, en I come heah b'lievin

sort of echo in his conscience; so he interrupted and said with decision, though wi

gwine to he'p

y and don't bot

fiercely. She raised her head slowly, till it was well up, and at the same time her great frame unconsciously assumed an erect a

u has trompled it under yo' foot. When you git anoth

words, from such an incongruous source, and so solemnly delivered, could not easily fai

et down on my knees now! But in case I don't-just

as straight to yo' uncle as I kin walk, en

three months, and am already deep in debt again, and moving heaven and earth to save myself from exposure and destruction, with a reasonably fair show of getting the thing covered up if I'm let a

sample of a gay laugh and a holl

ke you and me mustn't quarrel. Here's

te it. She said, with a grim implacability in voice and manner which made Tom almost realize that even a former slave can remember for ten minut

knows. I knows enough to bu'st dat wil

as ag

o you call more? Where's

said scoffingly, with a toss of he

reckon I's gwine to tell you for?-you ain't got no money. I's gwine to tell yo' uncle-e

away. Tom was in a panic. He seized her skirts, and

, what 'uz i

ember anything. What

give you a chance you'd git d

oment. He was panting wit

your young master to do such a h

so fine en handsome, en tell you how I used to nuss you en tend you en watch you when you 'uz sick en hadn't no mother but me in de whole worl', en beg you to give de po' ole nigge

is knees and beg

it's honest begging, too! N

outrage looked down on him and seemed to drink

ger-wench! I's wanted to see dat jes once befo' I's cal

t. He sai

I've got, but be good and let me off with that. Don'

won't stop dah, nuther. But I

gracio

red o' de ha

-n

I's a-roostin' in de ha'nted house 'ca'se I can't 'ford to roos' nowhers' else." She started toward the door, but stopped and said, "Gimme de dollah b

a li

tch

. She tilted it up and took a drink. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and s

her, and she marched out as g

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