The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson

ys a Shr

p a debt of gratitude we owe to Adam, the first great benefactor of o

ow up and be sold down the river! The thought crazed her with horror. If she dozed and lost herself for a moment, the next moment she was on her feet flying to her child's cradle to see if it was s

ther child nestled in its sleep and attracted her attention.

into wild sobbings again, and turned away, saying, "Oh, I got to kill my chile, dey ain't no yuther way,-killin' him wouldn't save de chile fum goin' down de river. Oh, I got to do it, yo' po' mammy's got to kill you to save you, honey"-she gathered her baby to her bosom, now, and began to smother it with caresses-"M

suddenly. She had caught sight of her new Sunday gown-a cheap curtain-calico thing, a c

her head in response to a pleasant idea, and added, "No, I ain't gwine to be

r handkerchief-turban and dressed her glossy wealth of hair "like white folks"; she added some odds and ends of rather lurid ribbon and a spray of atrocious artific

gray tow-linen shirt and noted the contrast between its pauper shabbiness and her own vo

as dey does yo' mammy. Ain't gwine to have 'em putt'n' dey han's up 'fo' dey eyes en sayin'

naked little creature in one of Thomas à Becket's snowy long baby

eyes began to widen with astonishment and admiration, and she clapped her hands and cried out, "Why

use. Now a strange light dawned in her eyes, and in a moment she was lost in thought. She seemed in a trance; when she ca

everything, and put the tow-linen shirt on him. She put his coral necklace on her own child

o' dat? Dog my cats if it ain't all I kin do

n Tommy's elegant

o make a mistake some time en git us bofe into trouble. Dah-now you lay still en don't fret no mo', Marse Tom-oh, thank de

child's unpainted pine cradle, and said,

what could I do? Yo' pappy would sell him to somebody, some time, en den

, toss and think. By and by she sat suddenly upright, fo

glory to goodness it ain't no sin! Dey's done it-yes, en

of her memory the dim particulars of some tale s

another one in his place, and make de fust one happy forever en leave t'other one to burn wid Satan. De preacher said it was jist like dey done in Englan' one time, long time ago. De queen she lef' her baby layin' aroun' one day, en went out callin'; en one o' de niggers roun'-'bout de place dat was 'mos' white, she come in en see de chile layin' aroun', en tuck en put her own chile's clo'es on de queen's chile, en put de queen's chile's clo'es on her own chile, en den lef' her

tising." She would give her own child a light pat and say humbly, "Lay still, Marse Tom," then give th

anner humble toward her young master was transferring itself to her speech and manner toward the usurper, and how similarly handy she was

practising, and absorbed hers

all right. When I takes de chillen out to git de air, de minute I's roun' de corner I's gwine to gaum dey mouths

s Jedge Driscoll or maybe Pem Howard. Blame dat man, he worries me wid dem ornery glasses o' hisn; I b'lieve he's a witch. But nemmine, I's gwine to happen aroun' dah one o' dese days en let on dat I reckon he wa

ed that he hardly saw the children when he looked at them, and all Roxy had to do was to get them both into a gale of laughter when he came about;

ack Roxy had paid her visit to Wilson, and was satisfied. Wilson took the finger-prints, labeled them with the names and with the date-October the first-put them carefully away and continued his chat with Roxy, who seemed very anxious that he should admire the great advance in fles

went home jubilant, and dropped all concern