The Boys' Life of Mark Twain

ve remained there long, for they moved twice within the next few years, and again in 1844 into a new house which Judge Cle

nnie, the slave girl. Somewhat later his business failure was complete. He surrendered everything to his creditors, even to his cow and household furniture, and relied upon his law practice and justice fees. However, he seems to have kept th

trade and assisted the family with his wages. Mrs. Clemens took a few boarders. In the midst of t

lemens was able to build the house mentioned above-a plain, cheap house, but a shelter and a home. Sa

at nine he had acquired health, with a sturdy ability to look out for himself, as boys in such a community will. "Sam," as they now called him, was "grown up" at nine and wise f

. He was learning a good deal about men, and this was often less pleasant knowledge. Once Little Sam-he was still Little Sam then-saw an old man shot down on Main Street at noon day. He saw them carry him home,

ening-he saw that, too. With a boon companion, John Briggs, he followed at a safe distance behind. A widow with her one daughter lived there. They stood in the shadow of the dark porch; the man had paused at the gate to revile them. The boys heard the mother's voice warning the intruder that she had a loaded gun

wed a second later by a gush of flame. The man dropped, his breast riddled. At the same instant the thunder-storm that

with slavery. Sam once saw a slave struck down and killed with a piece of slag, for a trifling offense. He saw an Abolitionist attacked by a mob that would have lynch

ssive one. I do vividly remember seeing a dozen black men and women, chained together, lying in a group

ther things, he had seen her one day defy a vicious and fierce Corsican-a common terror in the town-who had chased his grown daughter with a heavy rope in his hand, declaring he would wear it out on her. Cautious citizens got out of the way, but Jane Clemens opened her door to the fugitive; then, instead of rushing in and closing it, spread her arms across it, barring the way. The man raved, and threatened her with the rope, but she did not flinch or show any sign of fear. She stood there and shamed and defied him until he slunk off, c

company. The hills and woods around Hannibal were never disappointing. There was the cave with its marvels. There was Bear Creek, where he had learned to swim. He had seen two playmates drown; twice, himself, he had

. He would sit by it for hours and dream. He would venture out on it in a quietly borrowed boat

ere always passing. "You can hardly imagine what it meant," he reflected, once, "to a boy in those

way and swung into midstream; he was really going at last. He crept from beneath the boat and sat looking out over the water and enjoying the scenery. Then it began to rain-a regular downpour. He crept back under the boat, but his legs were outside, and one of

d 'possums by night. Sometimes the little boy followed the hunters all night long, and returned with them through the sparkling and fragrant morning, fresh, hungry, and triumphant, just in time for breakfast. So it is no wonder that Little Sam, at nine, w

ly so in most of his lessons-but, for some reason, he never spoke that every playmate in hearing did not stop, whatever he was doing, to listen. Perhaps it would be a plan for a new game or lark; perhaps it was something droll; perhaps it was just a casual remark that his peculiar drawl made amusing. His mother always referred to his slow fashion of speech as "Sammy's long talk." Her own speech was even more deliberate, though she seemed not to notice it. Sam was more like his mother than the others. His brother, Henry Clem

ashing a fence for him; he did give painkiller to Peter, the cat. As for escaping punishment for his misdeeds, as described in the book, this was a daily matter, and his methods suited the occasions. For, of course, Tom Sawyer was Sam Clemens h