LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI BY MARK TWAIN

Go, forget me, Why should Sorrow o’er that Brow a Shadow fling;

Hours there were to Memory Dearer; Long, Long Ago; Days of Absence;

A Life on the Ocean Wave, a Home on the Rolling Deep; Bird at Sea;

and spread open on the rack, where the plaintive singer has left it,

RO-holl on, silver MOO-hoon, guide the TRAV-el-lerr his WAY, etc.

Tilted pensively against the piano, a guitar–guitar capable

of playing the Spanish Fandango by itself, if you give it a start.

Frantic work of art on the wall–pious motto, done on the premises,

sometimes in colored yarns, sometimes in faded grasses:

progenitor of the ‘God Bless Our Home’ of modern commerce.

Framed in black moldings on the wall, other works of arts,

conceived and committed on the premises, by the young ladies;

being grim black-and-white crayons; landscapes, mostly:

lake, solitary sail-boat, petrified clouds, pre-geological trees

on shore, anthracite precipice; name of criminal conspicuous

in the corner. Lithograph, Napoleon Crossing the Alps.

Lithograph, The Grave at St. Helena. Steel-plates, Trumbull’s

Battle of Bunker Hill, and the Sally from Gibraltar.

Copper-plates, Moses Smiting the Rock, and Return of the

Prodigal Son. In big gilt frame, slander of the family in oil:

papa holding a book (‘Constitution of the United States’);

guitar leaning against mamma, blue ribbons fluttering from its neck;

the young ladies, as children, in slippers and scalloped pantelettes,

one embracing toy horse, the other beguiling kitten with ball

of yarn, and both simpering up at mamma, who simpers back.

These persons all fresh, raw, and red–apparently skinned.

Opposite, in gilt frame, grandpa and grandma, at thirty and

twenty-two, stiff, old-fashioned, high-collared, puff-sleeved,

glaring pallidly out from a background of solid Egyptian night.

Under a glass French clock dome, large bouquet of stiff

flowers done in corpsy-white wax. Pyramidal what-not

in the corner, the shelves occupied chiefly with bric-a-brac

of the period, disposed with an eye to best effect:

shell, with the Lord’s Prayer carved on it; another shell–

of the long-oval sort, narrow, straight orifice, three inches long,

running from end to end–portrait of Washington carved on it;

not well done; the shell had Washington’s mouth, originally–

artist should have built to that. These two are memorials of

the long-ago bridal trip to New Orleans and the French Market.

Other bric-a-brac: Californian ‘specimens’–quartz,

with gold wart adhering; old Guinea-gold locket, with circlet

of ancestral hair in it; Indian arrow-heads, of flint;

pair of bead moccasins, from uncle who crossed the Plains;

three ‘alum’ baskets of various colors–being skeleton-frame of wire,

clothed-on with cubes of crystallized alum in the rock-candy style–

works of art which were achieved by the young ladies; their doubles

and duplicates to be found upon all what-nots in the land;

convention of desiccated bugs and butterflies pinned to a card;

painted toy-dog, seated upon bellows-attachment–drops its

under jaw and squeaks when pressed upon; sugar-candy rabbit–

limbs and features merged together, not strongly defined;

pewter presidential-campaign medal; miniature card-board wood-sawyer,

to be attached to the stove-pipe and operated by the heat;

small Napoleon, done in wax; spread-open daguerreotypes

of dim children, parents, cousins, aunts, and friends,

in all attitudes but customary ones; no templed portico at back,

and manufactured landscape stretching away in the distance–

that came in later, with the photograph; all these vague figures

lavishly chained and ringed–metal indicated and secured

from doubt by stripes and splashes of vivid gold bronze;

all of them too much combed, too much fixed up; and all of them

uncomfortable in inflexible Sunday-clothes of a pattern which

the spectator cannot realize could ever have been in fashion;

husband and wife generally grouped together–husband sitting,

wife standing, with hand on his shoulder–and both preserving,

all these fading years, some traceable effect of the daguerreotypist’s

brisk ‘Now smile, if you please!’ Bracketed over what-not–

place of special sacredness–an outrage in water-color, done

by the young niece that came on a visit long ago, and died.

Pity, too; for she might have repented of this in time.

Horse-hair chairs, horse-hair sofa which keeps sliding from

under you. Window shades, of oil stuff, with milk-maids

and ruined castles stenciled on them in fierce colors.

Lambrequins dependent from gaudy boxings of beaten tin, gilded.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205

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