by Mark Twain

WHISPER READER

no character, howsoever good and fine, but it destroyed by ridicule, howsoever poor and witless Observe the ass, for instance: his character is about perfect, he choicest spirit among all the humbler animals, yet see what ridicule has brought him to Instead of feeling complimented when called an ass, left in doubt

--Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar

person ignorant of legal matters is always liable mistakes when he tries to photograph court scene pen; and so not willing to let the law chapters book go to press without first subjecting them to rigid and exhausting revision and correction by trained barrister-- is what called These chapters are right, now, in every detail, for they were rewritten under the immediate eye of William Hicks, who studied law part of while in southwest Missouri thirty-five and then came over here to Florence health still helping for exercise and board in Macaroni Vermicelli's horse-feed shed, up the back alley turn around the corner Piazza del Duomo just beyond the house where that stone that Dante used to sit on six hundred is let wall when he let on watching them build Giotto's campanile and yet always got tired looking as Beatrice passed along on her way chunk of chestnut cake to defend herself with of Ghibelline outbreak before she got to school, same old stand where they sell the same old cake day and just as light and good as then, too, and flattery, far little rusty law, but he rubbed up book, and those legal chapters are right and straight, now me so himself

Given under my hand this second day of January, 1893, Villa Viviani, village of Settignano, three miles back of Florence, hills-- the same certainly affording the most charming view found planet, and with it the most dreamlike and enchanting sunsets found in any planet or even in any solar system--and given, too, swell room house, busts of Cerretani senators and other grandees line looking approvingly down upon me, used to look down upon Dante, and mutely asking me to adopt them into my family, which with pleasure, remotest ancestors are but spring chickens compared robed and stately antiques, and great and satisfying lift , that six hundred years will

Mark Twain

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CHAPTER 1

Pudd'nhead Wins His Name

Tell the truth or trump--but get the trick

--Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar

The scene chronicle town of Dawson's Landing, Missouri side Mississippi, half day's journey, per steamboat, below St Louis

In 1830 snug collection of modest one- and two- story frame dwellings, whose whitewashed exteriors were almost concealed from sight by climbing tangles of rose vines, honeysuckles, and morning glories Each pretty homes had garden in front fenced with white palings and opulently stocked with hollyhocks, marigolds, touch-me-nots, prince's-feathers, and other old-fashioned flowers; while windowsills houses stood wooden boxes containing moss rose plants and terra-cotta pots grew breed of geranium whose spread of intensely red blossoms accented the prevailing pink tint rose-clad house-front like an explosion of flame When room ledge outside pots and boxes for cat, the cat was there-- in sunny weather--stretched at full length, asleep and blissful, with her furry belly sun and paw curved over her nose Then that house was complete, and its contentment and peace were made manifest world symbol, whose testimony is infallible home without cat--and well-fed, well-petted, and properly revered cat-- perfect home, perhaps, but how can it prove title ?

All along the streets, on both sides, outer edge brick sidewalks, stood locust trees with trunks protected by wooden boxing, and these furnished shade for summer and sweet fragrancer in spring, clusters of buds came forth The main street, one block back river, and running parallel with it, sole business street six blocks long, and in each block brick stores, three stories high, towered above interjected bunches of little frame shops Swinging signs creaked wind the street's whole length The candy-striped pole, which indicates nobility proud and ancient along the palace-bordered canals of Venice, indicated merely the humble barbershop along the main street of Dawson's Landing On chief corner stood lofty unpainted pole wreathed from top to bottom with tin pots and pans and cups, the chief tinmonger's noisy notice world ( wind blew) that his shop was on hand for business corner

The hamlet's front was washed clear waters great river; its body stretched itself rearward up gentle incline; its most rearward border fringed itself out and scattered its houses about its base line hills; the hills rose high, enclosing the town in half-moon curve, clothed with forests from foot to summit

Steamboats passed up and down every hour or so Those belonging little Cairo line little Memphis line always stopped; the big Orleans liners stopped for hails only, or to land passengers or freight; and the case also great flotilla of "transients " These latter came out of dozen rivers-- the Illinois, the Missouri, the Upper Mississippi, the Ohio, the Monongahela, the Tennessee, the Red River, the White River, and so on--and were bound every whither and stocked with every imaginable comfort or necessity, which the Mississippi's communities could want, frosty Falls of St Anthony down through nine climates to torrid New Orleans

Dawson's Landing was slaveholding town, with rich, slave-worked grain and pork country back of it The town was sleepy and comfortable and contented fifty years old, and was growing slowly-- very slowly, , but still growing

The chief citizen was York Leicester Driscoll, about forty years old, judge county court very proud old Virginian ancestry, and hospitalities rather formal and stately manners, he kept up its traditions fine and just and generous gentleman--a gentleman without stain or blemish--was his only religion, and always faithful respected, esteemed, and beloved by all community well off, and was gradually adding store He wife were very nearly happy, but not quite, for they had no children The longing treasure of child had grown stronger and stronger years slipped away, but the blessing never came--and was never

pair lived the judge's widowed sister, Mrs Rachel Pratt, and she also was childless--childless, and sorrowful reason, and not comforted The women were good and commonplace people, and did their duty, and had their reward in clear consciences community's approbation They were Presbyterians, the judge was freethinker

Pembroke Howard, lawyer and bachelor, aged almost forty, was another old Virginian grandee with proved descent First Families fine, majestic creature, gentleman according nicest requirements Virginia rule, devoted Presbyterian, an authority "code", and man always courteously ready to stand up field if any act or word had seemed doubtful or suspicious , and explain it with any weapon prefer from bradawls to artillery very popular people, and judge's dearest friend

Then Colonel Cecil Burleigh Essex, another F F V of formidable caliber--however, no concern

Percy Northumberland Driscoll, brother judge, and younger than he by five years, was married man, and had had children around his hearthstone; but they were attacked in detail by measles, croup, and scarlet fever, and this had given the doctor chance effective antediluvian methods; so the cradles were empty prosperous man, with good head for speculations, fortune was growing first of February, 1830, two boy babes were born house; one to him, one to one slave girls, Roxana by name Roxana was twenty years old She was up and around the same day, with her hands full, for she was tending both babes

Mrs Percy Driscoll died week Roxy remained in charge children She had her own way, Driscoll soon absorbed himself speculations and left her to her own devices

same month of February, Dawson's Landing gained new citizen Mr David Wilson, young fellow of Scotch parentage He had wandered remote region birthplace interior State of New York, to seek his fortune twenty-five years old, college bred, and had finished post-college course in an Eastern law school couple of years before

homely, freckled, sandy-haired young fellow, with an intelligent blue eye that had frankness and comradeship and covert twinkle of pleasant sort But for an unfortunate remark , have entered at once upon successful career at Dawson's Landing But his fatal remark the first day he spent village, and it "gaged" him He had just made the acquaintance of group of citizens when an invisible dog began to yelp and snarl and howl and make himself very comprehensively disagreeable, whereupon young Wilson said, much as one thinking aloud:

" I owned half dog "

"Why ? " somebody asked

"Because kill my half "

The group searched his face with curiosity, with anxiety even, but found no light there, no expression that read They fell away as from something uncanny, and went into privacy to discuss him One said:

"'Pears fool "

"'Pears ? " said another "_Is, I reckon you better say "

"Said he owned half dog, the idiot," said third "What did he reckon would become other half if he killed his half ? reckon he thought it would live ? "

"Why, thought it, unless he downrightest fool ; because if he hadn't thought it, wanted to own the whole dog, knowing that if he killed his half other half died, responsible half just the same he had killed that half instead own Don't it look that way , gents ? "