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The American Claimant by Mark Twain

they think they do do some of it. But it’s a superstition. Dan’l waits

on the front door, and sometimes goes on an errand; and sometimes you’ll

see one or both of them letting on to dust around in here–but that’s

because there’s something they want to hear about and mix their gabble

into. And they’re always around at meals, for the same reason. But the

fact is, we have to keep a young negro girl just to take care of them,

and a negro woman to do the housework and help take care of them.”

“Well, they ought to be tolerably happy, I should think.

“It’s no name for it. They quarrel together pretty much all the time–

most always about religion, because Dan’l’s a Dunker Baptist and Jinny’s

a shouting Methodist, and Jinny believes in special Providences and Dan’l

don’t, because he thinks he’s a kind of a free-thinker–and they play and

sing plantation hymns together, and talk and chatter just eternally and

forever, and are sincerely fond of each other and think the world of

Mulberry, and he puts up patiently with all their spoiled ways and

foolishness, and so-ah, well, they’re happy enough if it comes to that.

And I don’t mind–I’ve got used to it. I can get used to anything, with

Mulberry to help; and the fact is, I don’t much care what happens, so

long as he’s spared to me.”

“Well, here’s to him, and hoping he’ll make another strike soon.”

“And rake in the lame, the halt and the blind, and turn the house into a

hospital again? It’s what he would do. I’ve seen aplenty of that and

more. No, Washington, I want his strikes to be mighty moderate ones the

rest of the way down the vale.”

“Well, then, big strike or little strike, or no strike at all, here’s

hoping he’ll never lack for friends–and I don’t reckon he ever will

while there’s people around who know enough to–”

“Him lack for friends!” and she tilted her head up with a frank pride–

“why, Washington, you can’t name a man that’s anybody that isn’t fond of

him. I’ll tell you privately, that I’ve had Satan’s own time to keep

them from appointing him to some office or other. They knew he’d no

business with an office, just as well as I did, but he’s the hardest man

to refuse anything to, a body ever saw. Mulberry Sellers with an office!

laws goodness, you know what that would be like. Why, they’d come from

the ends of the earth to see a circus like that. I’d just as lieves be

married to Niagara Falls, and done with it.” After a reflective pause

she added–having wandered back, in the interval, to the remark that had

been her text: “Friends? –oh, indeed, no man ever had more; and such

friends: Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Johnston, Longstreet, Lee –many’s the

time they’ve sat in that chair you’re sitting in–” Hawkins was out of it

instantly, and contemplating it with a reverential surprise, and with the

awed sense of having trodden shod upon holy ground–

“They!” he said.

“Oh, indeed, yes, a many and a many a time.”

He continued to gaze at the chair fascinated, magnetized; and for once in

his life that continental stretch of dry prairie which stood for his

imagination was afire, and across it was marching a slanting flamefront

that joined its wide horizons together and smothered the skies with

smoke. He was experiencing what one or another drowsing, geographically

ignorant alien experiences every day in the year when he turns a dull and

indifferent eye out of the car window and it falls upon a certain

station-sign which reads “Stratford -on-Avon!” Mrs. Sellers went

gossiping comfortably along:

“Oh, they like to hear him talk, especially if their load is getting

rather heavy on one shoulder and they want to shift it. He’s all air,

you know,–breeze, you may say–and he freshens them up; it’s a trip to

the country, they say. Many a time he’s made General Grant laugh–and

that’s a tidy job, I can tell you, and as for Sheridan, his eye lights up

and he listens to Mulberry Sellers the same as if he was artillery.

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Categories: Twain, Mark
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