The $30,000 Bequest, and Other Stories

by Mark Twain

  EXTRACT FROM ADAM'S DIARY

  Perhaps I ought to remember that she is very young, a mere girl and makeallowances. She is all interest, eagerness, vivacity, the world is toher a charm, a wonder, a mystery, a joy; she can't speak for delightwhen she finds a new flower, she must pet it and caress it and smellit and talk to it, and pour out endearing names upon it. And she iscolor-mad: brown rocks, yellow sand, gray moss, green foliage, blue sky;the pearl of the dawn, the purple shadows on the mountains, the goldenislands floating in crimson seas at sunset, the pallid moon sailingthrough the shredded cloud-rack, the star-jewels glittering in thewastes of space--none of them is of any practical value, so far as I cansee, but because they have color and majesty, that is enough for her,and she loses her mind over them. If she could quiet down and keep stilla couple minutes at a time, it would be a reposeful spectacle. In thatcase I think I could enjoy looking at her; indeed I am sure I could,for I am coming to realize that she is a quite remarkably comelycreature--lithe, slender, trim, rounded, shapely, nimble, graceful; andonce when she was standing marble-white and sun-drenched on a boulder,with her young head tilted back and her hand shading her eyes, watchingthe flight of a bird in the sky, I recognized that she was beautiful.

  MONDAY NOON.--If there is anything on the planet that she is notinterested in it is not in my list. There are animals that I amindifferent to, but it is not so with her. She has no discrimination,she takes to all of them, she thinks they are all treasures, every newone is welcome.

  When the mighty brontosaurus came striding into camp, she regarded it asan acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a good sample ofthe lack of harmony that prevails in our views of things. She wanted todomesticate it, I wanted to make it a present of the homestead and moveout. She believed it could be tamed by kind treatment and would be agood pet; I said a pet twenty-one feet high and eighty-four feet longwould be no proper thing to have about the place, because, even with thebest intentions and without meaning any harm, it could sit down on thehouse and mash it, for any one could see by the look of its eye that itwas absent-minded.

  Still, her heart was set upon having that monster, and she couldn't giveit up. She thought we could start a dairy with it, and wanted me to helpmilk it; but I wouldn't; it was too risky. The sex wasn't right, and wehadn't any ladder anyway. Then she wanted to ride it, and look at thescenery. Thirty or forty feet of its tail was lying on the ground, likea fallen tree, and she thought she could climb it, but she was mistaken;when she got to the steep place it was too slick and down she came, andwould have hurt herself but for me.

  Was she satisfied now? No. Nothing ever satisfies her but demonstration;untested theories are not in her line, and she won't have them. It isthe right spirit, I concede it; it attracts me; I feel the influence ofit; if I were with her more I think I should take it up myself. Well,she had one theory remaining about this colossus: she thought that if wecould tame it and make him friendly we could stand him in the riverand use him for a bridge. It turned out that he was already plenty tameenough--at least as far as she was concerned--so she tried her theory,but it failed: every time she got him properly placed in the river andwent ashore to cross over him, he came out and followed her around likea pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do that.

  FRIDAY.--Tuesday--Wednesday--Thursday--and today: all without seeinghim. It is a long time to be alone; still, it is better to be alone thanunwelcome.

  I _had _to have company--I was made for it, I think--so I made friendswith the animals. They are just charming, and they have the kindestdisposition and the politest ways; they never look sour, they never letyou feel that you are intruding, they smile at you and wag their tail,if they've got one, and they are always ready for a romp or an excursionor anything you want to propose. I think they are perfect gentlemen. Allthese days we have had such good times, and it hasn't been lonesome forme, ever. Lonesome! No, I should say not. Why, there's always a swarmof them around--sometimes as much as four or five acres--you can't countthem; and when you stand on a rock in the midst and look out over thefurry expanse it is so mottled and splashed and gay with color andfrisking sheen and sun-flash, and so rippled with stripes, that youmight think it was a lake, only you know it isn't; and there's stormsof sociable birds, and hurricanes of whirring wings; and when the sunstrikes all that feathery commotion, you have a blazing up of all thecolors you can think of, enough to put your eyes out.

  We have made long excursions, and I have seen a great deal of the world;almost all of it, I think; and so I am the first traveler, and the onlyone. When we are on the march, it is an imposing sight--there's nothinglike it anywhere. For comfort I ride a tiger or a leopard, because it issoft and has a round back that fits me, and because they are such prettyanimals; but for long distance or for scenery I ride the elephant. Hehoists me up with his trunk, but I can get off myself; when we are readyto camp, he sits and I slide down the back way.

  The birds and animals are all friendly to each other, and there are nodisputes about anything. They all talk, and they all talk to me, but itmust be a foreign language, for I cannot make out a word they say; yetthey often understand me when I talk back, particularly the dog and theelephant. It makes me ashamed. It shows that they are brighter than Iam, for I want to be the principal Experiment myself--and I intend tobe, too.

  I have learned a number of things, and am educated, now, but I wasn't atfirst. I was ignorant at first. At first it used to vex me because, withall my watching, I was never smart enough to be around when the waterwas running uphill; but now I do not mind it. I have experimented andexperimented until now I know it never does run uphill, except in thedark. I know it does in the dark, because the pool never goes dry, whichit would, of course, if the water didn't come back in the night. It isbest to prove things by actual experiment; then you _know_; whereas ifyou depend on guessing and supposing and conjecturing, you never geteducated.

  Some things you _can't_ find out; but you will never know you can'tby guessing and supposing: no, you have to be patient and go onexperimenting until you find out that you can't find out. And it isdelightful to have it that way, it makes the world so interesting. Ifthere wasn't anything to find out, it would be dull. Even trying to findout and not finding out is just as interesting as trying to find out andfinding out, and I don't know but more so. The secret of the water wasa treasure until I _got _it; then the excitement all went away, and Irecognized a sense of loss.

  By experiment I know that wood swims, and dry leaves, and feathers, andplenty of other things; therefore by all that cumulative evidence youknow that a rock will swim; but you have to put up with simply knowingit, for there isn't any way to prove it--up to now. But I shall find away--then _that _excitement will go. Such things make me sad; becauseby and by when I have found out everything there won't be any moreexcitements, and I do love excitements so! The other night I couldn'tsleep for thinking about it.

  At first I couldn't make out what I was made for, but now I think it wasto search out the secrets of this wonderful world and be happy and thankthe Giver of it all for devising it. I think there are many things tolearn yet--I hope so; and by economizing and not hurrying too fast Ithink they will last weeks and weeks. I hope so. When you cast up afeather it sails away on the air and goes out of sight; then you throwup a clod and it doesn't. It comes down, every time. I have tried itand tried it, and it is always so. I wonder why it is? Of course it_doesn't_ come down, but why should it _seem _to? I suppose it is anoptical illusion. I mean, one of them is. I don't know which one. Itmay be the feather, it may be the clod; I can't prove which it is, I canonly demonstrate that one or the other is a fake, and let a person takehis choice.

  By watching, I know that the stars are not going to last. I have seensome of the best ones melt and run down the sky. Since one can melt,they can all melt; since they can all melt, they can all melt the samenight. That sorrow will come--I know it. I mean to sit up every nightand look at them as long as I can keep awake; and I will impress those
sparkling fields on my memory, so that by and by when they are takenaway I can by my fancy restore those lovely myriads to the black sky andmake them sparkle again, and double them by the blur of my tears.

  After the Fall

  When I look back, the Garden is a dream to me. It was beautiful,surpassingly beautiful, enchantingly beautiful; and now it is lost, andI shall not see it any more.

  The Garden is lost, but I have found _him_, and am content. He lovesme as well as he can; I love him with all the strength of my passionatenature, and this, I think, is proper to my youth and sex. If I askmyself why I love him, I find I do not know, and do not really muchcare to know; so I suppose that this kind of love is not a productof reasoning and statistics, like one's love for other reptiles andanimals. I think that this must be so. I love certain birds because oftheir song; but I do not love Adam on account of his singing--no, it isnot that; the more he sings the more I do not get reconciled to it.Yet I ask him to sing, because I wish to learn to like everything he isinterested in. I am sure I can learn, because at first I could not standit, but now I can. It sours the milk, but it doesn't matter; I can getused to that kind of milk.

  It is not on account of his brightness that I love him--no, it is notthat. He is not to blame for his brightness, such as it is, for he didnot make it himself; he is as God made him, and that is sufficient.There was a wise purpose in it, _that _I know. In time it will develop,though I think it will not be sudden; and besides, there is no hurry; heis well enough just as he is.

  It is not on account of his gracious and considerate ways and hisdelicacy that I love him. No, he has lacks in this regard, but he iswell enough just so, and is improving.

  It is not on account of his industry that I love him--no, it is notthat. I think he has it in him, and I do not know why he conceals itfrom me. It is my only pain. Otherwise he is frank and open with me,now. I am sure he keeps nothing from me but this. It grieves me that heshould have a secret from me, and sometimes it spoils my sleep, thinkingof it, but I will put it out of my mind; it shall not trouble myhappiness, which is otherwise full to overflowing.

  It is not on account of his education that I love him--no, it is notthat. He is self-educated, and does really know a multitude of things,but they are not so.

  It is not on account of his chivalry that I love him--no, it is notthat. He told on me, but I do not blame him; it is a peculiarity of sex,I think, and he did not make his sex. Of course I would not have told onhim, I would have perished first; but that is a peculiarity of sex, too,and I do not take credit for it, for I did not make my sex.

  Then why is it that I love him? _Merely because he is masculine_, Ithink.

  At bottom he is good, and I love him for that, but I could love himwithout it. If he should beat me and abuse me, I should go on lovinghim. I know it. It is a matter of sex, I think.

  He is strong and handsome, and I love him for that, and I admire himand am proud of him, but I could love him without those qualities. Ifhe were plain, I should love him; if he were a wreck, I should lovehim; and I would work for him, and slave over him, and pray for him, andwatch by his bedside until I died.

  Yes, I think I love him merely because he is _mine _and is _masculine_.There is no other reason, I suppose. And so I think it is as I firstsaid: that this kind of love is not a product of reasonings andstatistics. It just _comes_--none knows whence--and cannot explainitself. And doesn't need to.

  It is what I think. But I am only a girl, the first that has examinedthis matter, and it may turn out that in my ignorance and inexperience Ihave not got it right.

  Forty Years Later

  It is my prayer, it is my longing, that we may pass from this lifetogether--a longing which shall never perish from the earth, but shallhave place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of time;and it shall be called by my name.

  But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I;for he is strong, I am weak, I am not so necessary to him as he is tome--life without him would not be life; how could I endure it? Thisprayer is also immortal, and will not cease from being offered up whilemy race continues. I am the first wife; and in the last wife I shall berepeated.

  AT EVE'S GRAVE

  ADAM: Wheresoever she was, _there_ was Eden.