The Tragedy of Pudd’nhead Wilson by Mark Twain

in his time puzzling over a thing which had come under his notice

that morning. The matter was this: He happened to be up very early–

at dawn, in fact; and he crossed the hall, which divided his cottage

through the center, and entered a room to get something there.

The window of the room had no curtains, for that side of the house

had long been unoccupied, and through this window he caught sight of

something which surprised and interested him. It was a young woman–

a young woman where properly no young woman belonged; for she was in

Judge Driscoll’s house, and in the bedroom over the judge’s private

study or sitting room. This was young Tom Driscoll’s bedroom.

He and the judge, the judge’s widowed sister Mrs. Pratt, and three Negro

servants were the only people who belonged in the house. Who, then,

might this young lady be? The two houses were separated by an

ordinary yard, with a low fence running back through its middle

from the street in front to the lane in the rear. The distance was

not great, and Wilson was able to see the girl very well,

the window shades of the room she was in being up, and the window also.

The girl had on a neat and trim summer dress, patterned in broad stripes

of pink and white, and her bonnet was equipped with a pink veil.

She was practicing steps, gaits and attitudes, apparently; she was

doing the thing gracefully, and was very much absorbed in her work.

Who could she be, and how came she to be in young Tom Driscoll’s room?

Wilson had quickly chosen a position from which he could watch the girl

without running much risk of being seen by her, and he remained there

hoping she would raise her veil and betray her face. But she

disappointed him. After a matter of twenty minutes she disappeared

and although he stayed at his post half an hour longer, she came no more.

Toward noon he dropped in at the judge’s and talked with Mrs. Pratt

about the great event of the day, the levee of the distinguished

foreigners at Aunt Patsy Cooper’s. He asked after her nephew Tom,

and she said he was on his way home and that she was expecting him

to arrive a little before night, and added that she and the judge

were gratified to gather from his letters that he was conducting himself

very nicely and creditably–at which Wilson winked to himself privately.

Wilson did not ask if there was a newcomer in the house, but he asked

questions that would have brought light-throwing answers as to that

matter if Mrs. Pratt had had any light to throw; so he went away

satisfied that he knew of things that were going on in her house

of which she herself was not aware.

He was now awaiting for the twins, and still puzzling over the problem

of who that girl might be, and how she happened to be in that

young fellow’s room at daybreak in the morning.

CHAPTER 8

Marse Tom Tramples His Chance

The holy passion of Friendship is of so sweet and steady and loyal

and enduring a nature that it will last through a whole lifetime,

if not asked to lend money.

–Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar

Consider well the proportions of things. It is better to be

a young June bug than an old bird of paradise.

–Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar

It is necessary now to hunt up Roxy.

At the time she was set free and went away chambermaiding,

she was thirty-five. She got a berth as second chambermaid on a

Cincinnati boat in the New Orleans trade, the _Grand Mogul_.

A couple of trips made her wonted and easygoing at the work,

and infatuated her with the stir and adventure and independence of

steamboat life. Then she was promoted and become head chambermaid.

She was a favorite with the officers, and exceedingly proud of their

joking and friendly way with her.

During eight years she served three parts of the year on that boat,

and the winters on a Vicksburg packet. But now for two months,

she had had rheumatism in her arms, and was obliged to let

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