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Chapter XXI
   IT  was  after  sun-up now, but we went right on and didn't tie up. The
king and the duke turned out by and by looking pretty rusty; but after
they'd jumped overboard and took a swim it chippered them up a good deal.
After breakfast the king he took a seat on the corner of the raft, and
pulled off his boots and rolled up his britches, and let his legs dangle
in the water, so as to be comfortable, and lit his pipe, and went to
getting his Romeo and Juliet by heart. When he had got it pretty good him
and the duke begun to practice it together. The duke had to learn him over
and over again how to say every speech; and he made him sigh, and put his
hand on his heart, and after a while he said he done it pretty well;
"only," he says, "you mustn't bellow out ROMEO! that way, like a bull-you
must say it soft and sick and languishy, so-R-o-o-meo! that is the idea;
for Juliet's a dear sweet mere child of a girl, you know, and she doesn't
bray like a jackass."
Well, next they got out a couple of long swords that the duke made out
of oak laths, and begun to practice the sword fight-the duke called
himself Richard III.; and the way they laid on and pranced around the raft
was grand to see. But by and by the king tripped and fell overboard, and
after that they took a rest, and had a talk about all kinds of adventures
they'd had in other times along the river.
After dinner the duke says:
"Well, Capet, we'll want to make this a first-class show, you know, so
I guess we'll add a little more to it. We want a little something to
answer encores with, anyway."
"What's onkores, Bilgewater?"
The duke told him, and then says:
"I'll answer by doing the Highland fling or the sailor's hornpipe; and
you-well, let me see-oh, I've got it-you can do Hamlet's soliloquy."
"Hamlet's which?"
"Hamlet's soliloquy, you know; the most celebrated thing in
Shakespeare. Ah, it's sublime, sublime! Always fetches the house. I
haven't got it in the book-I've only got one volume-but I reckon I can
piece it out from memory. I'll just walk up and down a minute, and see if
I can call it back from recollection's vaults."
So he went to marching up and down, thinking, and frowning horrible
every now and then; then he would hoist up his eyebrows; next he would
squeeze his hand on his forehead and stagger back and kind of moan; next
he would sigh, and next he'd let on to drop a tear. It was beautiful to
see him. By and by he got it. He told us to give attention. Then he
strikes a most noble attitude, with one leg shoved forwards, and his arms
stretched away up, and his head tilted back, looking up at the sky; and
then he begins to rip and rave and grit his teeth; and after that, all
through his speech, he howled, and spread around, and swelled up his
chest, and just knocked the spots out of any acting ever I see before.
This is the speech-I learned it, easy enough, while he was learning it to
the king:

To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would fardels bear, till Birnam Wood do come to Dunsinane,
But that the fear of something after death Murders the innocent sleep,
Great nature's second course,
And makes us rather sling the arrows of outrageous fortune
Than fly to others that we know not of.
There's the respect must give us pause:
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The law's delay, and the quietus which his pangs might take,
In the dead waste and middle of the night, when churchyards yawn
In customary suits of solemn black,
But that the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns,
Breathes forth contagion on the world,
And thus the native hue of resolution, like the poor cat i' the adage,
Is sicklied o'er with care,
And all the clouds that lowered o'er our housetops,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.
But soft you, the fair Ophelia:
Ope not thy ponderous and marble jaws,
But get thee to a nunnery+go!
Well, the old man he liked that speech, and he mighty soon got it so he
could do it first-rate. It seemed like he was just born for it; and when
he had his hand in and was excited, it was perfectly lovely the way he
would rip and tear and rair up behind when he was getting it off.
The first chance we got the duke he had some showbills printed; and
after that, for two or three days as we floated along, the raft was a most
uncommon lively place, for there warn't nothing but sword fighting and
rehearsing-as the duke called it-going on all the time. One morning, when
we was pretty well down the State of Arkansaw, we come in sight of a
little one-horse town in a big bend; so we tied up about three-quarters of
a mile above it, in the mouth of a crick which was shut in like a tunnel
by the cypress trees, and all of us but Jim took the canoe and went down
there to see if there was any chance in that place for our show.
We struck it mighty lucky; there was 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 circus would leave before
night, so our show would have a pretty good chance. The duke he hired the
courthouse, and we went around and stuck up our bills. They read like

Shaksperean Revival ! ! !
Wonderful Attraction!
For One Night Only!

The world renowned tragedians,
David Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane Theatre London,
and Edmund Kean the elder, of the Royal Haymarket Theatre,
Whitechapel, Pudding Lane, Piccadilly, London, and the Royal
Continental Theatres, in their sublime Shaksperean Spectacle

The Balcony Scene
Romeo and Juliet ! ! !

Romeo...................Mr. Garrick
Juliet..................Mr. Kean

Assisted by the whole strength of the company!
New costumes, new scenes, new appointments!
The thrilling, masterly, and blood-curdling
Broad-sword conflict
In Richard III. ! ! !
Richard III.............Mr. Garrick
Richmond................Mr. Kean
(by special request)
Hamlet's Immortal Soliloquy ! !
By The Illustrious Kean!
Done by him 300 consecutive nights in Paris!
For One Night Only,
On account of imperative European engagements!
Admission 25 cents; children and servants, 10 cents.

Then we went loafing around town. The stores and houses was most all
old, shackly, dried up frame concerns that hadn't ever been painted; they
was set up three or four foot above ground on stilts, so as to be out of
reach of the water when the river was overflowed. The houses had little
gardens around them, but they didn't seem to raise hardly anything in them
but jimpson-weeds, and sunflowers, and ash piles, and old curled-up boots
and shoes, and pieces of bottles, and rags, and played-out tinware. The
fences was made of different kinds of boards, nailed on at different
times; and they leaned every which way, and had gates that didn't generly
have but one hinge-a leather one. Some of the fences had been whitewashed
some time or another, but the duke said it was in Clumbus' time, like
enough. There was generly hogs in the garden, and people driving them out.
All the stores was along one street. They had white domestic awnings in
front, and the country people hitched their horses to the awning-posts.
There was empty drygoods boxes under the awnings, and loafers roosting on
them all day long, whittling them with their Barlow knives; and chawing
tobacco, and gaping and yawning and stretching-a mighty ornery lot. They
generly had on yellow straw hats most as wide as an umbrella, but didn't
wear no coats nor waistcoats, they called one another Bill, and Buck, and
Hank, and Joe, and Andy, and talked lazy and drawly, and used considerable
many cuss words. There was as many as one loafer leaning up against every
awning-post, and he most always had his hands in his britches-pockets,
except when he fetched them out to lend a chaw of tobacco or scratch. What
a body was hearing amongst them all the time was:
"Gimme a chaw 'v tobacker, Hank "
"Cain't; I hain't got but one chaw left. Ask Bill."
Maybe Bill he gives him a chaw; maybe he lies and says he ain't got
none. Some of them kinds of loafers never has a cent in the world, nor a
chaw of tobacco of their own. They get all their chawing by borrowing;
they say to a fellow, "I wisht you'd len' me a chaw, Jack, I jist this
minute give Ben Thompson the last chaw I had"-which is a lie pretty much
everytime; it don't fool nobody but a stranger; but Jack ain't no
stranger, so he says:
"YOU give him a chaw, did you? So did your sister's cat's grandmother.
You pay me back the chaws you've awready borry'd off'n me, Lafe Buckner,
then I'll loan you one or two ton of it, and won't charge you no back
intrust, nuther."
"Well, I DID pay you back some of it wunst."
"Yes, you did-'bout six chaws. You borry'd store tobacker and paid back
Store tobacco is flat black plug, but these fellows mostly chaws the
natural leaf twisted. When they borrow a chaw they don't generly cut it
off with a knife, but set the plug in between their teeth, and gnaw with
their teeth and tug at the plug with their hands till they get it in two;
then sometimes the one that owns the tobacco looks mournful at it when
it's handed back, and says, sarcastic:
"Here, gimme the CHAW, and you take the PLUG."
All the streets and lanes was just mud; they warn't nothing else BUT
mud-mud as black as tar and nigh about a foot deep in some places, and two
or three inches deep in ALL the places. The hogs loafed and grunted around
everywheres. You'd see a muddy sow and a litter of pigs come lazying along
the street and whollop herself right down in the way, where folks had to
walk around her, and she'd stretch out and shut her eyes and wave her ears
whilst the pigs was milking her, and look as happy as if she was on
salary. And pretty soon you'd hear a loafer sing out, "Hi! SO boy! sick
him, Tige!" and away the sow would go, squealing most horrible, with a dog
or two swinging to each ear, and three or four dozen more a-coming; and
then you would see all the loafers get up and watch the thing out of
sight, and laugh at the fun and look grateful for the noise. Then they'd
settle back again till there was a dog fight. There couldn't anything wake
them up all over, and make them happy all over, like a dog fight-unless it
might be putting turpentine on a stray dog and setting fire to him, or
tying a tin pan to his tail and see him run himself to death.
On the river front some of the houses was sticking out over the bank,
and they was bowed and bent, and about ready to tumble in, The people had
moved out of them. The bank was caved away under one corner of some
others, and that corner was hanging over. People lived in them yet, but it
was dangersome, because sometimes a strip of land as wide as a house caves
in at a time. Sometimes a belt of land a quarter of a mile deep will start
in and cave along and cave along till it all caves into the river in one
summer. Such a town as that has to be always moving back, and back, and
back, because the river's always gnawing at it.
The nearer it got to noon that day the thicker and thicker was the
wagons and horses in the streets, and more coming all the time. Families
fetched their dinners with them from the country, and eat them in the
wagons. There was considerable whisky drinking going on, and I seen three
fights. By and by somebody sings out:
"Here comes old Boggs!-in from the country for his little old monthly
drunk; here he comes, boys!"
All the loafers looked glad; I reckoned they was used to having fun out
of Boggs. One of them says:
"Wonder who he's a-gwyne to chaw up this time. If he'd a-chawed up all
the men he's ben a-gwyne to chaw up in the last twenty year he'd have
considerable ruputation now."
Another one says, "I wisht old Boggs 'd threaten me, 'cuz then I'd know
I warn't gwyne to die for a thousan' year."
Boggs comes a-tearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an
Injun, and singing out:
"Cler the track, thar. I'm on the waw-path, and the price uv coffins is
a-gwyne to raise."
He was drunk, and weaving about in his saddle; he was over fifty year
old, and had a very red face. Everybody yelled at him and laughed at him
and sassed him, and he sassed back, and said he'd attend to them and lay
them out in their regular turns, but he couldn't wait now because he'd
come to town to kill old Colonel Sherburn, and his motto was, "Meat first,
and spoon vittles to top off on."
He see me, and rode up and says:
"Whar'd you come f'm, boy? You prepared to die?"
Then he rode on. I was scared, but a man says:
"He don't mean nothing; he's always a-carryin' on like that when he's
drunk. He's the best naturedest old fool in Arkansaw-never hurt nobody,
drunk nor sober."
Boggs rode up before the biggest store in town, and bent his head down
so he could see under the curtain of the awning and yells:
"Come out here, Sherburn! Come out and meet the man you've swindled.
You're the houn' I'm after, and I'm a-gwyne to have you, too!"
And so he went on, calling Sherburn everything he could lay his tongue
to, and the whole street packed with people listening and laughing and
going on. By and by a proud-looking man about fifty-five-and he was a heap
the best dressed man in that town, too-steps out of the store, and the
crowd drops back on each side to let him come. He says to Boggs, mighty
ca'm and slow-he says:
"I'm tired of this, but I'll endure it till one o'clock. Till one
o'clock, mind-no longer. If you open your mouth against me only once after
that time you can't travel so far but I will find you."
Then he turns and goes in. The crowd looked mighty sober; nobody
stirred, and there warn't no more laughing. Boggs rode off blackguarding
Sherburn as loud as he could yell, all down the street; and pretty soon
back he comes and stops before the store, still keeping it up. Some men
crowded around him and tried to get him to shut up, but he wouldn't; they
told him it would be one o'clock in about fifteen minutes, and so he MUST
go home-he must go right away. But it didn't do no good. He cussed away
with all his might, and throwed his hat down in the mud and rode over it,
and pretty soon away he went a-raging down the street again, with his gray
hair aflying. Everybody that could get a chance at him tried their best to
coax him off of his horse so they could lock him up and get him sober; but
it warn't no use-up the street he would tear again, and give Sherburn
another cussing. By and by somebody says:
"Go for his daughter!-quick, go for his daughter; sometimes he'll
listen to her. If anybody can persuade him, she can."
So somebody started on a run. I walked down street a ways and stopped.
In about five or ten minutes here comes Boggs again, but not on his horse.
He was a-reeling across the street towards me, bareheaded, with a friend
on both sides of him a-holt of his arms and hurrying him along. He was
quiet, and looked uneasy; and he warn't hanging back any, but was doing
some of the hurrying himself. Somebody sings out:
I looked over there to see who said it, and it was that Colonel
Sherburn. He was standing perfectly still in the street, and had a pistol
raised in his right hand-not aiming it, but holding it out with the barrel
tilted up towards the sky. The same second I see a young girl coming on
the run, and two men with her. Boggs and the men turned round to see who
called him, and when they see the pistol the men jumped to one side, and
the pistol-barrel come down slow and steady to a level-both barrels
cocked. Boggs throws up both of his hands and says, "O Lord, don't shoot!"
Bang! goes the first shot, and he staggers back, clawing at the air-bang!
goes the second one, and he tumbles backwards on to the ground, heavy and
solid, with his arms spread out. That young girl screamed out and comes
rushing, and down she throws herself on her father, crying, and saying,
"Oh, he's killed him, he's killed him!" The crowd closed up around them,
and shouldered and jammed one another, with their necks stretched, trying
to see, and people on the inside trying to shove them back and shouting,
"Back, back! give him air, give him air!"
Colonel Sherburn he tossed his pistol on to the ground, and turned
around on his heels and walked off.
They took Boggs to a little drug store, the crowd pressing around just
the same, and the whole town following, and I rushed and got a good place
at the window, where I was close to him and could see in. They laid him on
the floor and put one large Bible under his head, and opened another one
and spread it on his breast; but they tore open his shirt first, and I
seen where one of the bullets went in. He made about a dozen long gasps,
his breast lifting the Bible up when he drawed in his breath, and letting
it down again when he breathed it out-and after that he laid still; he was
dead. Then they pulled his daughter away from him, screaming and crying,
and took her off. She was about sixteen, and very sweet and gentle
looking, but awful pale and scared.
Well, pretty soon the whole town was there, squirming and scrouging and
pushing and shoving to get at the window and have a look, but people that
had the places wouldn't give them up, and folks behind them was saying all
the time, "Say, now, you've looked enough, you fellows; 'tain't right and
'tain't fair for you to stay thar all the time, and never give nobody a
chance; other folks has their rights as well as you."
There was considerable jawing back, so I slid out, thinking maybe there
was going to be trouble. The streets was full, and everybody was excited.
Everybody that seen the shooting was telling how it happened, and there
was a big crowd packed around each one of these fellows, stretching their
necks and listening. One long, lanky man, with long hair and a big white
fur stovepipe hat on the back of his head, and a crooked-handled cane,
marked out the places on the ground where Boggs stood and where Sherburn
stood, and the people following him around from one place to t'other and
watching everything he done, and bobbing their heads to show they
understood, and stooping a little and resting their hands on their thighs
to watch him mark the places on the ground with his cane; and then he
stood up straight and stiff where Sherburn had stood, frowning and having
his hat-brim down over his eyes, and sung out, "Boggs!" and then fetched
his cane down slow to a level, and says "Bang!" staggered backwards, says
"Bang!" again, and fell down flat on his back. The people that had seen
the thing said he done it perfect; said it was just exactly the way it all
happened. Then as much as a dozen people got out their bottles and treated
Well, by and by somebody said Sherburn ought to be lynched. In about a
minute everybody was saying it; so away they went, mad and yelling, and
snatching down every clothes-line they come to to do the hanging with.