Adam was but human--this explains it all. He did not want the apple for the apple's sake, he wanted it only because it was forbidden. The mistake was in not forbidding the serpent; then he would have eaten the serpent.
--Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar
Pudd'nhead Wilson had a trifle of money when he arrived, and he bought a small house on the extreme western verge2 of the town. Between it and Judge Driscoll's house there was only a grassy3 yard, with a paling fence dividing the properties in the middle. He hired a small office down in the town and hung out a tin sign with these words on it:
D A V I D W I L S O N
ATTORNEY
SURVEYING, CONVEYANCING, ETC.
But his deadly remark had ruined his chance--at least in the law. No clients came. He took down his sign, after a while, and put it up on his own house with the law features knocked out of it. It offered his services now in the humble4 capacities of land surveyor and expert accountant. Now and then he got a job of surveying to do, and now and then a merchant got him to straighten out his books. With Scotch5 patience and pluck he resolved to live down his reputation and work his way into the legal field yet. Poor fellow, he could foresee that it was going to take him such a weary long time to do it.
He had a rich abundance of idle time, but it never hung heavy on his hands, for he interested himself in every new thing that was born into the universe of ideas, and studied it, and experimented upon it at his house. One of his pet fads7 was palmistry. To another one he gave no name, neither would he explain to anybody what its purpose was, but merely said it was an amusement. In fact, he had found that his fads added to his reputation as a pudd'nhead; there, he was growing chary8 of being too communicative about them. The fad6 without a name was one which dealt with people's finger marks. He carried in his coat pocket a shallow box with grooves9 in it, and in the grooves strips of glass five inches long and three inches wide. Along the lower edge of each strip was pasted a slip of white paper. He asked people to pass their hands through their hair (thus collecting upon them a thin coating of the natural oil) and then making a thumb-mark on a glass strip, following it with the mark of the ball of each finger in succession. Under this row of faint grease prints he would write a record on the strip of white paper--thus:
JOHN SMITH, right hand-
and add the day of the month and the year, then take Smith's left hand on another glass strip, and add name and date and the words "left hand." The strips were now returned to the grooved11 box, and took their place among what Wilson called his "records."
He often studied his records, examining and poring over them with absorbing interest until far into the night; but what he found there-if he found anything--he revealed to no one. Sometimes he copied on paper the involved and delicate pattern left by the ball of the finger, and then vastly enlarged it with a pantograph so that he could examine its web of curving lines with ease and convenience.
One sweltering afternoon--it was the first day of July, 1830-he was at work over a set of tangled12 account books in his workroom, which looked westward13 over a stretch of vacant lots, when a conversation outside disturbed him. It was carried on it yells, which showed that the people engaged in it were not close together.
"Say, Roxy, how does yo' baby come on?" This from the distant voice.
"Fust-rate. How does _you_ come on, Jasper?" This yell was from close by.
"Oh, I's middlin'; hain't got noth'n' to complain of, I's gwine to come a-court'n you bimeby, Roxy."
"_You_ is, you black mud cat! Yah--yah--yah! I got somep'n' better to do den1 'sociat'n' wid niggers as black as you is. Is ole Miss Cooper's Nancy done give you de mitten14?" Roxy followed this sally with another discharge of carefree laughter.
"You's jealous, Roxy, dat's what's de matter wid you, you hussy--yah--yah--yah! Dat's de time I got you!"
"Oh, yes, _you_ got me, hain't you. 'Clah to goodness if dat conceit15 o' yo'n strikes in, Jasper, it gwine to kill you sho'. If you b'longed to me, I'd sell you down de river 'fo' you git too fur gone. Fust time I runs acrost yo' marster, I's gwine to tell him so."
This idle and aimless jabber16 went on and on, both parties enjoying the friendly duel17 and each well satisfied with his own share of the wit exchanged--for wit they considered it.
Wilson stepped to the window to observe the combatants; he could not work while their chatter18 continued. Over in the vacant lots was Jasper, young, coal black, and of magnificent build, sitting on a wheelbarrow in the pelting19 sun--at work, supposably, whereas he was in fact only preparing for it by taking an hour's rest before beginning. In front of Wilson's porch stood Roxy, with a local handmade baby wagon20, in which sat her two charges--one at each end and facing each other. From Roxy's manner of speech, a stranger would have expected her to be black, but she was not. Only one sixteenth of her was black, and that sixteenth did not show. She was of majestic21 form and stature22, her attitudes were imposing23 and statuesque, and her gestures and movements distinguished24 by a noble and stately grace. Her complexion25 was very fair, with the rosy26 glow of vigorous health in her cheeks, her face was full of character and expression, her eyes were brown and liquid, and she had a heavy suit of fine soft hair which was also brown, but the fact was not apparent because her head was bound about with a checkered27 handkerchief and the hair was concealed28 under it. Her face was shapely, intelligent, and comely--even beautiful. She had an easy, independent carriage--when she was among her own caste--and a high and "sassy" way, withal; but of course she was meek29 and humble enough where white people were.
To all intents and purposes Roxy was as white as anybody, but the one sixteenth of her which was black outvoted the other fifteen parts and made her a Negro. She was a slave, and salable30 as such. Her child was thirty-one parts white, and he, too, was a slave, and by a fiction of law and custom a Negro. He had blue eyes and flaxen curls like his white comrade, but even the father of the white child was able to tell the children apart--little as he had commerce with them--by their clothes; for the white babe wore ruffled31 soft muslin and a coral necklace, while the other wore merely a coarse tow-linen shirt which barely reached to its knees, and no jewelry32.
The white child's name was Thomas a Becket Driscoll, the other's name was Valet de Chambre: no surname--slaves hadn't the privilege. Roxana had heard that phrase somewhere, the fine sound of it had pleased her ear, and as she had supposed it was a name, she loaded it on to her darling. It soon got shorted to "Chambers," of course.
Wilson knew Roxy by sight, and when the duel of wits begun to play out, he stepped outside to gather in a record or two. Jasper went to work energetically, at once, perceiving that his leisure was observed. Wilson inspected the children and asked:
"How old are they, Roxy?"
"Bofe de same age, sir--five months. Bawn de fust o' Feb'uary."
"They're handsome little chaps. One's just as handsome as the other, too."
A delighted smile exposed the girl's white teeth, and she said:
"Bless yo' soul, Misto Wilson, it's pow'ful nice o' you to say dat, 'ca'se one of 'em ain't on'y a nigger. Mighty33 prime little nigger, _I_ al'ays says, but dat's 'ca'se it's mine, o' course."
"How do you tell them apart, Roxy, when they haven't any clothes on?"
Roxy laughed a laugh proportioned to her size, and said:
"Oh, _I_ kin10 tell 'em 'part, Misto Wilson, but I bet Marse Percy couldn't, not to save his life."
Wilson chatted along for awhile, and presently got Roxy's fingerprints34 for his collection--right hand and left--on a couple of his glass strips; then labeled and dated them, and took the "records" of both children, and labeled and dated them also.
Two months later, on the third of September, he took this trio of finger marks again. He liked to have a "series," two or three "takings" at intervals35 during the period of childhood, these to be followed at intervals of several years.
The next day--that is to say, on the fourth of September--something occurred which profoundly impressed Roxana. Mr. Driscoll missed another small sum of money--which is a way of saying that this was not a new thing, but had happened before. In truth, it had happened three times before. Driscoll's patience was exhausted36. He was a fairly humane37 man toward slaves and other animals; he was an exceedingly humane man toward the erring38 of his own race. Theft he could not abide39, and plainly there was a thief in his house. Necessarily the thief must be one of his Negros. Sharp measures must be taken. He called his servants before him. There were three of these, besides Roxy: a man, a woman, and a boy twelve years old. They were not related. Mr. Driscoll said:
"You have all been warned before. It has done no good. This time I will teach you a lesson. I will sell the thief. Which of you is the guilty one?"
They all shuddered40 at the threat, for here they had a good home, and a new one was likely to be a change for the worse. The denial was general. None had stolen anything--not money, anyway--a little sugar, or cake, or honey, or something like that, that "Marse Percy wouldn't mind or miss" but not money--never a cent of money. They were eloquent41 in their protestations, but Mr. Driscoll was not moved by them. He answered each in turn with a stern "Name the thief!"
The truth was, all were guilty but Roxana; she suspected that the others were guilty, but she did not know them to be so. She was horrified42 to think how near she had come to being guilty herself; she had been saved in the nick of time by a revival43 in the colored Methodist Church, a fortnight before, at which time and place she "got religion." The very next day after that gracious experience, while her change of style was fresh upon her and she was vain of her purified condition, her master left a couple dollars unprotected on his desk, and she happened upon that temptation when she was polishing around with a dustrag. She looked at the money awhile with a steady rising resentment44, then she burst out with:
"Dad blame dat revival, I wisht it had 'a' be'n put off till tomorrow!"
Then she covered the tempter with a book, and another member of the kitchen cabinet got it. She made this sacrifice as a matter of religious etiquette45; as a thing necessary just now, but by no means to be wrested46 into a precedent47; no, a week or two would limber up her piety48, then she would be rational again, and the next two dollars that got left out in the cold would find a comforter--and she could name the comforter.
Was she bad? Was she worse than the general run of her race? No. They had an unfair show in the battle of life, and they held it no sin to take military advantage of the enemy--in a small way; in a small way, but not in a large one. They would smouch provisions from the pantry whenever they got a chance; or a brass49 thimble, or a cake of wax, or an emery bag, or a paper of needles, or a silver spoon, or a dollar bill, or small articles of clothing, or any other property of light value; and so far were they from considering such reprisals50 sinful, that they would go to church and shout and pray the loudest and sincerest with their plunder51 in their pockets. A farm smokehouse had to be kept heavily padlocked, or even the colored deacon himself could not resist a ham when Providence52 showed him in a dream, or otherwise, where such a thing hung lonesome, and longed for someone to love. But with a hundred hanging before him, the deacon would not take two--that is, on the same night. On frosty nights the humane Negro prowler would warm the end of the plank53 and put it up under the cold claws of chickens roosting in a tree; a drowsy54 hen would step on to the comfortable board, softly clucking her gratitude55, and the prowler would dump her into his bag, and later into his stomach, perfectly56 sure that in taking this trifle from the man who daily robbed him of an inestimable treasure--his liberty--he was not committing any sin that God would remember against him in the Last Great Day.
"Name the thief!"
For the fourth time Mr. Driscoll had said it, and always in the same hard tone. And now he added these words of awful import:
"I give you one minute." He took out his watch. "If at the end of that time, you have not confessed, I will not only sell all four of you, BUT--I will sell you DOWN THE RIVER!"
It was equivalent to condemning57 them to hell! No Missouri Negro doubted this. Roxy reeled in her tracks, and the color vanished out of her face; the others dropped to their knees as if they had been shot; tears gushed58 from their eyes, their supplicating59 hands went up, and three answers came in the one instant.
"I done it!"
"I done it!"
"I done it!--have mercy, marster--Lord have mercy on us po' niggers!"
"Very good," said the master, putting up his watch, "I will sell you _here_ though you don't deserve it. You ought to be sold down the river."
The culprits flung themselves prone60, in an ecstasy61 of gratitude, and kissed his feet, declaring that they would never forget his goodness and never cease to pray for him as long as they lived. They were sincere, for like a god he had stretched forth62 his mighty hand and closed the gates of hell against them. He knew, himself, that he had done a noble and gracious thing, and was privately63 well pleased with his magnanimity; and that night he set the incident down in his diary, so that his son might read it in after years, and be thereby64 moved to deeds of gentleness and humanity himself.
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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fad
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| n.时尚；一时流行的狂热；一时的爱好 | |
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fads
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| n.一时的流行，一时的风尚( fad的名词复数 ) | |
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chary
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| adj.谨慎的，细心的 | |
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grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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grooved
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| v.沟( groove的过去式和过去分词 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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mitten
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| n.连指手套，露指手套 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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jabber
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| v.快而不清楚地说；n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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checkered
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| adj.有方格图案的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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salable
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| adj.有销路的，适销的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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fingerprints
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| n.指纹( fingerprint的名词复数 )v.指纹( fingerprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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reprisals
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| n.报复（行为）( reprisal的名词复数 ) | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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52
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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