第 26 页

"All right; I wash MY hands of the matter. But I warn you all that a

time 's coming when you're going to feel sick whenever you think of this

day." And away he went.

"All right, doctor," says the king, kinder mocking him; "we'll try and

get 'em to send for you;" which made them all laugh, and they said it was

a prime good hit.

CHAPTER XXVI.

WELL, when they was all gone the king he asks Mary Jane how they was off

for spare rooms, and she said she had one spare room, which would do for

Uncle William, and she'd give her own room to Uncle Harvey, which was a

little bigger, and she would turn into the room with her sisters and

sleep on a cot; and up garret was a little cubby, with a pallet in it.

The king said the cubby would do for his valley--meaning me.

So Mary Jane took us up, and she showed them their rooms, which was plain

but nice. She said she'd have her frocks and a lot of other traps took

out of her room if they was in Uncle Harvey's way, but he said they

warn't. The frocks was hung along the wall, and before them was a

curtain made out of calico that hung down to the floor. There was an old

hair trunk in one corner, and a guitar-box in another, and all sorts of

little knickknacks and jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room

with. The king said it was all the more homely and more pleasanter for

these fixings, and so don't disturb them. The duke's room was pretty

small, but plenty good enough, and so was my cubby.

That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there,

and I stood behind the king and the duke's chairs and waited on them, and

the niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of the

table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was,

and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried

chickens was--and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to

force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop,

and said so--said "How DO you get biscuits to brown so nice?" and "Where,

for the land's sake, DID you get these amaz'n pickles?" and all that kind

of humbug talky-talk, just the way people always does at a supper, you

know.

And when it was all done me and the hare-lip had supper in the kitchen

off of the leavings, whilst the others was helping the niggers clean up

the things. The hare-lip she got to pumping me about England, and blest

if I didn't think the ice was getting mighty thin sometimes. She says:

"Did you ever see the king?"

"Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I have--he goes to our church." I

knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on. So when I says he goes

to our church, she says:

"What--regular?"

"Yes--regular. His pew's right over opposite ourn--on t'other side the

pulpit."

"I thought he lived in London?"

"Well, he does. Where WOULD he live?"

"But I thought YOU lived in Sheffield?"

I see I was up a stump. I had to let on to get choked with a chicken

bone, so as to get time to think how to get down again. Then I says:

"I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield. That's

only in the summer time, when he comes there to take the sea baths."

"Why, how you talk--Sheffield ain't on the sea."

"Well, who said it was?"

"Why, you did."

"I DIDN'T nuther."

"You did!"

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I never said nothing of the kind."

"Well, what DID you say, then?"

"Said he come to take the sea BATHS--that's what I said."

"Well, then, how's he going to take the sea baths if it ain't on the

sea?"

"Looky here," I says; "did you ever see any Congress-water?"

"Yes."

"Well, did you have to go to Congress to get it?"

"Why, no."

"Well, neither does William Fourth have to go to the sea to get a sea

bath."

"How does he get it, then?"

"Gets it the way people down here gets Congress-water--in barrels. There

in the palace at Sheffield they've got furnaces, and he wants his water

hot. They can't bile that amount of water away off there at the sea.

They haven't got no conveniences for it."

"Oh, I see, now. You might a said that in the first place and saved

time."

When she said that I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was

comfortable and glad. Next, she says:

"Do you go to church, too?"

"Yes--regular."

"Where do you set?"

"Why, in our pew."

"WHOSE pew?"

"Why, OURN--your Uncle Harvey's."

"His'n? What does HE want with a pew?"

"Wants it to set in. What did you RECKON he wanted with it?"

"Why, I thought he'd be in the pulpit."

Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I

played another chicken bone and got another think. Then I says:

"Blame it, do you suppose there ain't but one preacher to a church?"

"Why, what do they want with more?"

"What!--to preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you.

They don't have no less than seventeen."

"Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn't set out such a string as that, not

if I NEVER got to glory. It must take 'em a week."

"Shucks, they don't ALL of 'em preach the same day--only ONE of 'em."

"Well, then, what does the rest of 'em do?"

"Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate--and one thing or

another. But mainly they don't do nothing."

"Well, then, what are they FOR?"

"Why, they're for STYLE. Don't you know nothing?"

"Well, I don't WANT to know no such foolishness as that. How is servants

treated in England? Do they treat 'em better 'n we treat our niggers?"

"NO! A servant ain't nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs."

"Don't they give 'em holidays, the way we do, Christmas and New Year's

week, and Fourth of July?"

"Oh, just listen! A body could tell YOU hain't ever been to England by

that. Why, Hare-l--why, Joanna, they never see a holiday from year's end

to year's end; never go to the circus, nor theater, nor nigger shows, nor

nowheres."

"Nor church?"

"Nor church."

"But YOU always went to church."

Well, I was gone up again. I forgot I was the old man's servant. But

next minute I whirled in on a kind of an explanation how a valley was

different from a common servant and HAD to go to church whether he wanted

to or not, and set with the family, on account of its being the law. But

I didn't do it pretty good, and when I got done I see she warn't

satisfied. She says:

"Honest injun, now, hain't you been telling me a lot of lies?"

"Honest injun," says I.

"None of it at all?"

"None of it at all. Not a lie in it," says I.

"Lay your hand on this book and say it."

I see it warn't nothing but a dictionary, so I laid my hand on it and

said it. So then she looked a little better satisfied, and says:

"Well, then, I'll believe some of it; but I hope to gracious if I'll

believe the rest."

"What is it you won't believe, Joe?" says Mary Jane, stepping in with

Susan behind her. "It ain't right nor kind for you to talk so to him,

and him a stranger and so far from his people. How would you like to be

treated so?"

"That's always your way, Maim--always sailing in to help somebody before

they're hurt. I hain't done nothing to him. He's told some stretchers,

I reckon, and I said I wouldn't swallow it all; and that's every bit and

grain I DID say. I reckon he can stand a little thing like that, can't

he?"

"I don't care whether 'twas little or whether 'twas big; he's here in our

house and a stranger, and it wasn't good of you to say it. If you was in

his place it would make you feel ashamed; and so you oughtn't to say a

thing to another person that will make THEM feel ashamed."

"Why, Maim, he said--"

"It don't make no difference what he SAID--that ain't the thing. The

thing is for you to treat him KIND, and not be saying things to make him

remember he ain't in his own country and amongst his own folks."

I says to myself, THIS is a girl that I'm letting that old reptle rob her

of her money!

Then Susan SHE waltzed in; and if you'll believe me, she did give

Hare-lip hark from the tomb!

Says I to myself, and this is ANOTHER one that I'm letting him rob her of

her money!

Then Mary Jane she took another inning, and went in sweet and lovely

again--which was her way; but when she got done there warn't hardly

anything left o' poor Hare-lip. So she hollered.

"All right, then," says the other girls; "you just ask his pardon."

She done it, too; and she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful it

was good to hear; and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so she

could do it again.

I says to myself, this is ANOTHER one that I'm letting him rob her of her

money. And when she got through they all jest laid theirselves out to

make me feel at home and know I was amongst friends. I felt so ornery

and low down and mean that I says to myself, my mind's made up; I'll hive

that money for them or bust.

So then I lit out--for bed, I said, meaning some time or another. When I

got by myself I went to thinking the thing over. I says to myself, shall

I go to that doctor, private, and blow on these frauds? No--that won't

do. He might tell who told him; then the king and the duke would make it

warm for me. Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane? No--I dasn't do

it. Her face would give them a hint, sure; they've got the money, and

they'd slide right out and get away with it. If she was to fetch in help

I'd get mixed up in the business before it was done with, I judge. No;

there ain't no good way but one. I got to steal that money, somehow; and

I got to steal it some way that they won't suspicion that I done it.

They've got a good thing here, and they ain't a-going to leave till

they've played this family and this town for all they're worth, so I'll

find a chance time enough. I'll steal it and hide it; and by and by, when

I'm away down the river, I'll write a letter and tell Mary Jane where

it's hid. But I better hive it tonight if I can, because the doctor

maybe hasn't let up as much as he lets on he has; he might scare them out

of here yet.

So, thinks I, I'll go and search them rooms. Upstairs the hall was dark,

but I found the duke's room, and started to paw around it with my hands;

but I recollected it wouldn't be much like the king to let anybody else

take care of that money but his own self; so then I went to his room and

begun to paw around there. But I see I couldn't do nothing without a

candle, and I dasn't light one, of course. So I judged I'd got to do the

other thing--lay for them and eavesdrop. About that time I hears their

footsteps coming, and was going to skip under the bed; I reached for it,

but it wasn't where I thought it would be; but I touched the curtain that

hid Mary Jane's frocks, so I jumped in behind that and snuggled in

amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly still.

They come in and shut the door; and the first thing the duke done was to

get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn't found the bed

when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it's kind of natural to hide under

the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down then, and

the king says:

"Well, what is it? And cut it middlin' short, because it's better for us

to be down there a-whoopin' up the mournin' than up here givin' 'em a

chance to talk us over."

"Well, this is it, Capet. I ain't easy; I ain't comfortable. That

doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I've got a notion,

and I think it's a sound one."

"What is it, duke?"

"That we better glide out of this before three in the morning, and clip

it down the river with what we've got. Specially, seeing we got it so

easy--GIVEN back to us, flung at our heads, as you may say, when of

course we allowed to have to steal it back. I'm for knocking off and

lighting out."

That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been a

little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed, The king

rips out and says:

"What! And not sell out the rest o' the property? March off like a

passel of fools and leave eight or nine thous'n' dollars' worth o'

property layin' around jest sufferin' to be scooped in?--and all good,

salable stuff, too."

The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn't want

to go no deeper--didn't want to rob a lot of orphans of EVERYTHING they

had.

"Why, how you talk!" says the king. "We sha'n't rob 'em of nothing at

all but jest this money. The people that BUYS the property is the

suff'rers; because as soon 's it's found out 'at we didn't own it--which

won't be long after we've slid--the sale won't be valid, and it 'll all

go back to the estate. These yer orphans 'll git their house back agin,

and that's enough for THEM; they're young and spry, and k'n easy earn a