The $30,000 Bequest, and Other Stories

by Mark Twain

  EXTRACTS FROM ADAM'S DIARY

  MONDAY.--This new creature with the long hair is a good deal in the way.It is always hanging around and following me about. I don't like this; Iam not used to company. I wish it would stay with the other animals....Cloudy today, wind in the east; think we shall have rain.... _We?_ Wheredid I get that word--the new creature uses it.

  TUESDAY.--Been examining the great waterfall. It is the finest thing onthe estate, I think. The new creature calls it Niagara Falls--why, I amsure I do not know. Says it _looks _like Niagara Falls. That is not areason, it is mere waywardness and imbecility. I get no chance to nameanything myself. The new creature names everything that comes along,before I can get in a protest. And always that same pretext isoffered--it _looks _like the thing. There is a dodo, for instance. Saysthe moment one looks at it one sees at a glance that it "looks like adodo." It will have to keep that name, no doubt. It wearies me to fretabout it, and it does no good, anyway. Dodo! It looks no more like adodo than I do.

  WEDNESDAY.--Built me a shelter against the rain, but could not have itto myself in peace. The new creature intruded. When I tried to put itout it shed water out of the holes it looks with, and wiped it away withthe back of its paws, and made a noise such as some of the other animalsmake when they are in distress. I wish it would not talk; it is alwaystalking. That sounds like a cheap fling at the poor creature, a slur;but I do not mean it so. I have never heard the human voice before, andany new and strange sound intruding itself here upon the solemn hush ofthese dreaming solitudes offends my ear and seems a false note. And thisnew sound is so close to me; it is right at my shoulder, right at myear, first on one side and then on the other, and I am used only tosounds that are more or less distant from me.

  FRIDAY. The naming goes recklessly on, in spite of anything I can do.I had a very good name for the estate, and it was musical andpretty--_Garden Of Eden._ Privately, I continue to call it that, but notany longer publicly. The new creature says it is all woods and rocks andscenery, and therefore has no resemblance to a garden. Says it_looks _like a park, and does not look like anything _but _a park.Consequently, without consulting me, it has been new-named _NiagaraFalls Park_. This is sufficiently high-handed, it seems to me. Andalready there is a sign up:

  KEEP OFF THE GRASS

  My life is not as happy as it was.

  SATURDAY.--The new creature eats too much fruit. We are going to runshort, most likely. "We" again--that is _its_ word; mine, too, now, fromhearing it so much. Good deal of fog this morning. I do not go out inthe fog myself. This new creature does. It goes out in all weathers,and stumps right in with its muddy feet. And talks. It used to be sopleasant and quiet here.

  SUNDAY.--Pulled through. This day is getting to be more and more trying.It was selected and set apart last November as a day of rest. I hadalready six of them per week before. This morning found the new creaturetrying to clod apples out of that forbidden tree.

  MONDAY.--The new creature says its name is Eve. That is all right, Ihave no objections. Says it is to call it by, when I want it to come.I said it was superfluous, then. The word evidently raised me in itsrespect; and indeed it is a large, good word and will bear repetition.It says it is not an It, it is a She. This is probably doubtful; yet itis all one to me; what she is were nothing to me if she would but go byherself and not talk.

  TUESDAY.--She has littered the whole estate with execrable names andoffensive signs:

  This way to the Whirlpool

  This way to Goat Island

  Cave of the Winds this way

  She says this park would make a tidy summer resort if there was anycustom for it. Summer resort--another invention of hers--just words,without any meaning. What is a summer resort? But it is best not to askher, she has such a rage for explaining.

  FRIDAY.--She has taken to beseeching me to stop going over the Falls.What harm does it do? Says it makes her shudder. I wonder why; I havealways done it--always liked the plunge, and coolness. I supposed it waswhat the Falls were for. They have no other use that I can see, andthey must have been made for something. She says they were only made forscenery--like the rhinoceros and the mastodon.

  I went over the Falls in a barrel--not satisfactory to her. Went overin a tub--still not satisfactory. Swam the Whirlpool and the Rapids ina fig-leaf suit. It got much damaged. Hence, tedious complaints aboutmy extravagance. I am too much hampered here. What I need is a change ofscene.

  SATURDAY.--I escaped last Tuesday night, and traveled two days, andbuilt me another shelter in a secluded place, and obliterated my tracksas well as I could, but she hunted me out by means of a beast which shehas tamed and calls a wolf, and came making that pitiful noise again,and shedding that water out of the places she looks with. I was obligedto return with her, but will presently emigrate again when occasionoffers. She engages herself in many foolish things; among others; tostudy out why the animals called lions and tigers live on grass andflowers, when, as she says, the sort of teeth they wear would indicatethat they were intended to eat each other. This is foolish, because todo that would be to kill each other, and that would introduce what, asI understand, is called "death"; and death, as I have been told, has notyet entered the Park. Which is a pity, on some accounts.

  SUNDAY.--Pulled through.

  MONDAY.--I believe I see what the week is for: it is to give time torest up from the weariness of Sunday. It seems a good idea. ... She hasbeen climbing that tree again. Clodded her out of it. She said nobodywas looking. Seems to consider that a sufficient justification forchancing any dangerous thing. Told her that. The word justificationmoved her admiration--and envy, too, I thought. It is a good word.

  TUESDAY.--She told me she was made out of a rib taken from my body.This is at least doubtful, if not more than that. I have not missed anyrib.... She is in much trouble about the buzzard; says grass does notagree with it; is afraid she can't raise it; thinks it was intended tolive on decayed flesh. The buzzard must get along the best it can withwhat is provided. We cannot overturn the whole scheme to accommodate thebuzzard.

  SATURDAY.--She fell in the pond yesterday when she was looking atherself in it, which she is always doing. She nearly strangled, and saidit was most uncomfortable. This made her sorry for the creatures whichlive in there, which she calls fish, for she continues to fasten nameson to things that don't need them and don't come when they are calledby them, which is a matter of no consequence to her, she is such anumbskull, anyway; so she got a lot of them out and brought them in lastnight and put them in my bed to keep warm, but I have noticed them nowand then all day and I don't see that they are any happier there thenthey were before, only quieter. When night comes I shall throw themoutdoors. I will not sleep with them again, for I find them clammy andunpleasant to lie among when a person hasn't anything on.

  SUNDAY.--Pulled through.

  TUESDAY.--She has taken up with a snake now. The other animals are glad,for she was always experimenting with them and bothering them; and I amglad because the snake talks, and this enables me to get a rest.

  FRIDAY.--She says the snake advises her to try the fruit of the tree,and says the result will be a great and fine and noble education. I toldher there would be another result, too--it would introduce death intothe world. That was a mistake--it had been better to keep the remark tomyself; it only gave her an idea--she could save the sick buzzard, andfurnish fresh meat to the despondent lions and tigers. I advised her tokeep away from the tree. She said she wouldn't. I foresee trouble. Willemigrate.

  WEDNESDAY.--I have had a variegated time. I escaped last night, and rodea horse all night as fast as he could go, hoping to get clear of thePark and hide in some other country before the trouble should begin; butit was not to be. About an hour after sun-up, as I was riding througha flowery plain where thousands of animals were grazing, slumbering, orplaying with each other, according to their wont, all of a sudden theybroke into a tempest of frightful noises, and in one moment the plainwas a frantic commotion and every beast was des
troying its neighbor. Iknew what it meant--Eve had eaten that fruit, and death was come intothe world. ... The tigers ate my house, paying no attention whenI ordered them to desist, and they would have eaten me if I hadstayed--which I didn't, but went away in much haste.... I found thisplace, outside the Park, and was fairly comfortable for a few days,but she has found me out. Found me out, and has named the placeTonawanda--says it _looks _like that. In fact I was not sorry she came,for there are but meager pickings here, and she brought some of thoseapples. I was obliged to eat them, I was so hungry. It was against myprinciples, but I find that principles have no real force except whenone is well fed.... She came curtained in boughs and bunches of leaves,and when I asked her what she meant by such nonsense, and snatched themaway and threw them down, she tittered and blushed. I had never seena person titter and blush before, and to me it seemed unbecoming andidiotic. She said I would soon know how it was myself. This was correct.Hungry as I was, I laid down the apple half-eaten--certainly the bestone I ever saw, considering the lateness of the season--and arrayedmyself in the discarded boughs and branches, and then spoke to her withsome severity and ordered her to go and get some more and not make aspectacle of herself. She did it, and after this we crept down to wherethe wild-beast battle had been, and collected some skins, and I made herpatch together a couple of suits proper for public occasions. They areuncomfortable, it is true, but stylish, and that is the main point aboutclothes.... I find she is a good deal of a companion. I see I should belonesome and depressed without her, now that I have lost my property.Another thing, she says it is ordered that we work for our livinghereafter. She will be useful. I will superintend.

  TEN DAYS LATER.--She accuses _me _of being the cause of our disaster!She says, with apparent sincerity and truth, that the Serpent assuredher that the forbidden fruit was not apples, it was chestnuts. I saidI was innocent, then, for I had not eaten any chestnuts. She said theSerpent informed her that "chestnut" was a figurative term meaning anaged and moldy joke. I turned pale at that, for I have made many jokesto pass the weary time, and some of them could have been of that sort,though I had honestly supposed that they were new when I made them. Sheasked me if I had made one just at the time of the catastrophe. I wasobliged to admit that I had made one to myself, though not aloud. Itwas this. I was thinking about the Falls, and I said to myself, "Howwonderful it is to see that vast body of water tumble down there!" Thenin an instant a bright thought flashed into my head, and I let itfly, saying, "It would be a deal more wonderful to see it tumble_ up_there!"--and I was just about to kill myself with laughing at it whenall nature broke loose in war and death and I had to flee for my life."There," she said, with triumph, "that is just it; the Serpent mentionedthat very jest, and called it the First Chestnut, and said it was coevalwith the creation." Alas, I am indeed to blame. Would that I were notwitty; oh, that I had never had that radiant thought!

  NEXT YEAR.--We have named it Cain. She caught it while I was up countrytrapping on the North Shore of the Erie; caught it in the timber acouple of miles from our dug-out--or it might have been four, she isn'tcertain which. It resembles us in some ways, and may be a relation. Thatis what she thinks, but this is an error, in my judgment. The differencein size warrants the conclusion that it is a different and new kind ofanimal--a fish, perhaps, though when I put it in the water to see,it sank, and she plunged in and snatched it out before there wasopportunity for the experiment to determine the matter. I still think itis a fish, but she is indifferent about what it is, and will not letme have it to try. I do not understand this. The coming of the creatureseems to have changed her whole nature and made her unreasonable aboutexperiments. She thinks more of it than she does of any of theother animals, but is not able to explain why. Her mind isdisordered--everything shows it. Sometimes she carries the fish in herarms half the night when it complains and wants to get to the water. Atsuch times the water comes out of the places in her face that she looksout of, and she pats the fish on the back and makes soft sounds with hermouth to soothe it, and betrays sorrow and solicitude in a hundred ways.I have never seen her do like this with any other fish, and it troublesme greatly. She used to carry the young tigers around so, and play withthem, before we lost our property, but it was only play; she never tookon about them like this when their dinner disagreed with them.

  SUNDAY.--She doesn't work, Sundays, but lies around all tired out, andlikes to have the fish wallow over her; and she makes fool noises toamuse it, and pretends to chew its paws, and that makes it laugh. I havenot seen a fish before that could laugh. This makes me doubt.... I havecome to like Sunday myself. Superintending all the week tires a body so.There ought to be more Sundays. In the old days they were tough, but nowthey come handy.

  WEDNESDAY.--It isn't a fish. I cannot quite make out what it is. Itmakes curious devilish noises when not satisfied, and says "goo-goo"when it is. It is not one of us, for it doesn't walk; it is not a bird,for it doesn't fly; it is not a frog, for it doesn't hop; it is nota snake, for it doesn't crawl; I feel sure it is not a fish, though Icannot get a chance to find out whether it can swim or not. It merelylies around, and mostly on its back, with its feet up. I have not seenany other animal do that before. I said I believed it was an enigma; butshe only admired the word without understanding it. In my judgment it iseither an enigma or some kind of a bug. If it dies, I will take it apartand see what its arrangements are. I never had a thing perplex me so.

  THREE MONTHS LATER.--The perplexity augments instead of diminishing. Isleep but little. It has ceased from lying around, and goes about onits four legs now. Yet it differs from the other four legged animals,in that its front legs are unusually short, consequently this causes themain part of its person to stick up uncomfortably high in the air, andthis is not attractive. It is built much as we are, but its method oftraveling shows that it is not of our breed. The short front legs andlong hind ones indicate that it is a of the kangaroo family, but it is amarked variation of that species, since the true kangaroo hops, whereasthis one never does. Still it is a curious and interesting variety,and has not been catalogued before. As I discovered it, I have feltjustified in securing the credit of the discovery by attaching my nameto it, and hence have called it _Kangaroorum Adamiensis_.... It musthave been a young one when it came, for it has grown exceedingly since.It must be five times as big, now, as it was then, and when discontentedit is able to make from twenty-two to thirty-eight times the noiseit made at first. Coercion does not modify this, but has the contraryeffect. For this reason I discontinued the system. She reconciles it bypersuasion, and by giving it things which she had previously told me shewouldn't give it. As already observed, I was not at home when it firstcame, and she told me she found it in the woods. It seems odd that itshould be the only one, yet it must be so, for I have worn myself outthese many weeks trying to find another one to add to my collection, andfor this to play with; for surely then it would be quieter and wecould tame it more easily. But I find none, nor any vestige of any; andstrangest of all, no tracks. It has to live on the ground, it cannothelp itself; therefore, how does it get about without leaving a track?I have set a dozen traps, but they do no good. I catch all small animalsexcept that one; animals that merely go into the trap out of curiosity,I think, to see what the milk is there for. They never drink it.

  THREE MONTHS LATER.--The Kangaroo still continues to grow, which isvery strange and perplexing. I never knew one to be so long getting itsgrowth. It has fur on its head now; not like kangaroo fur, but exactlylike our hair except that it is much finer and softer, and instead ofbeing black is red. I am like to lose my mind over the capricious andharassing developments of this unclassifiable zoological freak. If Icould catch another one--but that is hopeless; it is a new variety, andthe only sample; this is plain. But I caught a true kangaroo and broughtit in, thinking that this one, being lonesome, would rather have thatfor company than have no kin at all, or any animal it could feel anearness to or get sympathy from in its forlorn condition here amongstrangers who
do not know its ways or habits, or what to do to make itfeel that it is among friends; but it was a mistake--it went into suchfits at the sight of the kangaroo that I was convinced it had never seenone before. I pity the poor noisy little animal, but there is nothingI can do to make it happy. If I could tame it--but that is out of thequestion; the more I try the worse I seem to make it. It grieves me tothe heart to see it in its little storms of sorrow and passion. I wantedto let it go, but she wouldn't hear of it. That seemed cruel and notlike her; and yet she may be right. It might be lonelier than ever; forsince I cannot find another one, how could_ it_?

  FIVE MONTHS LATER.--It is not a kangaroo. No, for it supports itself byholding to her finger, and thus goes a few steps on its hind legs, andthen falls down. It is probably some kind of a bear; and yet it hasno tail--as yet--and no fur, except upon its head. It still keeps ongrowing--that is a curious circumstance, for bears get their growthearlier than this. Bears are dangerous--since our catastrophe--and Ishall not be satisfied to have this one prowling about the place muchlonger without a muzzle on. I have offered to get her a kangaroo if shewould let this one go, but it did no good--she is determined to run usinto all sorts of foolish risks, I think. She was not like this beforeshe lost her mind.

  A FORTNIGHT LATER.--I examined its mouth. There is no danger yet: it hasonly one tooth. It has no tail yet. It makes more noise now than it everdid before--and mainly at night. I have moved out. But I shall go over,mornings, to breakfast, and see if it has more teeth. If it gets amouthful of teeth it will be time for it to go, tail or no tail, for abear does not need a tail in order to be dangerous.

  FOUR MONTHS LATER.--I have been off hunting and fishing a month, upin the region that she calls Buffalo; I don't know why, unless it isbecause there are not any buffaloes there. Meantime the bear has learnedto paddle around all by itself on its hind legs, and says "poppa" and"momma." It is certainly a new species. This resemblance to words maybe purely accidental, of course, and may have no purpose or meaning;but even in that case it is still extraordinary, and is a thing which noother bear can do. This imitation of speech, taken together with generalabsence of fur and entire absence of tail, sufficiently indicates thatthis is a new kind of bear. The further study of it will be exceedinglyinteresting. Meantime I will go off on a far expedition among theforests of the north and make an exhaustive search. There must certainlybe another one somewhere, and this one will be less dangerous when ithas company of its own species. I will go straightway; but I will muzzlethis one first.

  THREE MONTHS LATER.--It has been a weary, weary hunt, yet I have had nosuccess. In the mean time, without stirring from the home estate, shehas caught another one! I never saw such luck. I might have hunted thesewoods a hundred years, I never would have run across that thing.

  NEXT DAY.--I have been comparing the new one with the old one, and itis perfectly plain that they are of the same breed. I was going to stuffone of them for my collection, but she is prejudiced against it for somereason or other; so I have relinquished the idea, though I think it isa mistake. It would be an irreparable loss to science if they shouldget away. The old one is tamer than it was and can laugh and talk likea parrot, having learned this, no doubt, from being with the parrot somuch, and having the imitative faculty in a high developed degree. Ishall be astonished if it turns out to be a new kind of parrot; and yetI ought not to be astonished, for it has already been everything else itcould think of since those first days when it was a fish. The new one isas ugly as the old one was at first; has the same sulphur-and-raw-meatcomplexion and the same singular head without any fur on it. She callsit Abel.

  TEN YEARS LATER.--They are _boys_; we found it out long ago. It wastheir coming in that small immature shape that puzzled us; we were notused to it. There are some girls now. Abel is a good boy, but if Cainhad stayed a bear it would have improved him. After all these years, Isee that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better tolive outside the Garden with her than inside it without her. At firstI thought she talked too much; but now I should be sorry to have thatvoice fall silent and pass out of my life. Blessed be the chestnut thatbrought us near together and taught me to know the goodness of her heartand the sweetness of her spirit!