Home
Fictions/Novels
Short Stories
Poems
Essays
Plays
Nonfictions
 
Authors
All Titles
 






In Association with Amazon.com

Home > Authors Index > Mark Twain > Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court > This page

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, a novel by Mark Twain

THE TALE OF THE LOST LAND - CHAPTER XXXI - MARCO

< Previous
Table of content
Next >
________________________________________________
_ We strolled along in a sufficiently indolent fashion now, and
talked. We must dispose of about the amount of time it ought
to take to go to the little hamlet of Abblasoure and put justice
on the track of those murderers and get back home again. And
meantime I had an auxiliary interest which had never paled yet,
never lost its novelty for me since I had been in Arthur's kingdom:
the behavior--born of nice and exact subdivisions of caste--of chance
passers-by toward each other. Toward the shaven monk who trudged
along with his cowl tilted back and the sweat washing down his
fat jowls, the coal-burner was deeply reverent; to the gentleman
he was abject; with the small farmer and the free mechanic he was
cordial and gossipy; and when a slave passed by with a countenance
respectfully lowered, this chap's nose was in the air--he couldn't
even see him. Well, there are times when one would like to hang
the whole human race and finish the farce.

Presently we struck an incident. A small mob of half-naked boys
and girls came tearing out of the woods, scared and shrieking.
The eldest among them were not more than twelve or fourteen years
old. They implored help, but they were so beside themselves that
we couldn't make out what the matter was. However, we plunged
into the wood, they skurrying in the lead, and the trouble was
quickly revealed: they had hanged a little fellow with a bark rope,
and he was kicking and struggling, in the process of choking to
death. We rescued him, and fetched him around. It was some more
human nature; the admiring little folk imitating their elders;
they were playing mob, and had achieved a success which promised
to be a good deal more serious than they had bargained for.

It was not a dull excursion for me. I managed to put in the time
very well. I made various acquaintanceships, and in my quality
of stranger was able to ask as many questions as I wanted to.
A thing which naturally interested me, as a statesman, was the
matter of wages. I picked up what I could under that head during
the afternoon. A man who hasn't had much experience, and doesn't
think, is apt to measure a nation's prosperity or lack of prosperity
by the mere size of the prevailing wages; if the wages be high, the
nation is prosperous; if low, it isn't. Which is an error. It
isn't what sum you get, it's how much you can buy with it, that's
the important thing; and it's that that tells whether your wages
are high in fact or only high in name. I could remember how it
was in the time of our great civil war in the nineteenth century.
In the North a carpenter got three dollars a day, gold valuation;
in the South he got fifty--payable in Confederate shinplasters
worth a dollar a bushel. In the North a suit of overalls cost
three dollars--a day's wages; in the South it cost seventy-five--
which was two days' wages. Other things were in proportion.
Consequently, wages were twice as high in the North as they were
in the South, because the one wage had that much more purchasing
power than the other had.

Yes, I made various acquaintances in the hamlet and a thing that
gratified me a good deal was to find our new coins in circulation--
lots of milrays, lots of mills, lots of cents, a good many nickels,
and some silver; all this among the artisans and commonalty
generally; yes, and even some gold--but that was at the bank,
that is to say, the goldsmith's. I dropped in there while Marco,
the son of Marco, was haggling with a shopkeeper over a quarter
of a pound of salt, and asked for change for a twenty-dollar gold
piece. They furnished it--that is, after they had chewed the piece,
and rung it on the counter, and tried acid on it, and asked me
where I got it, and who I was, and where I was from, and where
I was going to, and when I expected to get there, and perhaps
a couple of hundred more questions; and when they got aground,
I went right on and furnished them a lot of information voluntarily;
told them I owned a dog, and his name was Watch, and my first wife
was a Free Will Baptist, and her grandfather was a Prohibitionist,
and I used to know a man who had two thumbs on each hand and a wart
on the inside of his upper lip, and died in the hope of a glorious
resurrection, and so on, and so on, and so on, till even that
hungry village questioner began to look satisfied, and also a shade
put out; but he had to respect a man of my financial strength,
and so he didn't give me any lip, but I noticed he took it out of
his underlings, which was a perfectly natural thing to do. Yes,
they changed my twenty, but I judged it strained the bank a little,
which was a thing to be expected, for it was the same as walking
into a paltry village store in the nineteenth century and requiring
the boss of it to change a two thousand-dollar bill for you all
of a sudden. He could do it, maybe; but at the same time he
would wonder how a small farmer happened to be carrying so much
money around in his pocket; which was probably this goldsmith's
thought, too; for he followed me to the door and stood there gazing
after me with reverent admiration.

Our new money was not only handsomely circulating, but its language
was already glibly in use; that is to say, people had dropped
the names of the former moneys, and spoke of things as being worth
so many dollars or cents or mills or milrays now. It was very
gratifying. We were progressing, that was sure.

I got to know several master mechanics, but about the most interesting
fellow among them was the blacksmith, Dowley. He was a live man
and a brisk talker, and had two journeymen and three apprentices,
and was doing a raging business. In fact, he was getting rich,
hand over fist, and was vastly respected. Marco was very proud of
having such a man for a friend. He had taken me there ostensibly
to let me see the big establishment which bought so much of his
charcoal, but really to let me see what easy and almost familiar
terms he was on with this great man. Dowley and I fraternized
at once; I had had just such picked men, splendid fellows, under
me in the Colt Arms Factory. I was bound to see more of him, so
I invited him to come out to Marco's Sunday, and dine with us.
Marco was appalled, and held his breath; and when the grandee
accepted, he was so grateful that he almost forgot to be astonished
at the condescension.

Marco's joy was exuberant--but only for a moment; then he grew
thoughtful, then sad; and when he heard me tell Dowley I should
have Dickon, the boss mason, and Smug, the boss wheelwright, out
there, too, the coal-dust on his face turned to chalk, and he lost
his grip. But I knew what was the matter with him; it was the
expense. He saw ruin before him; he judged that his financial
days were numbered. However, on our way to invite the others,
I said:

"You must allow me to have these friends come; and you must also
allow me to pay the costs."

His face cleared, and he said with spirit:

"But not all of it, not all of it. Ye cannot well bear a burden
like to this alone."

I stopped him, and said:

"Now let's understand each other on the spot, old friend. I am
only a farm bailiff, it is true; but I am not poor, nevertheless.
I have been very fortunate this year--you would be astonished
to know how I have thriven. I tell you the honest truth when I say
I could squander away as many as a dozen feasts like this and never
care _that_ for the expense!" and I snapped my fingers. I could
see myself rise a foot at a time in Marco's estimation, and when
I fetched out those last words I was become a very tower for style
and altitude. "So you see, you must let me have my way. You
can't contribute a cent to this orgy, that's _settled_."

"It's grand and good of you--"

"No, it isn't. You've opened your house to Jones and me in the
most generous way; Jones was remarking upon it to-day, just before
you came back from the village; for although he wouldn't be likely
to say such a thing to you--because Jones isn't a talker, and is
diffident in society--he has a good heart and a grateful, and
knows how to appreciate it when he is well treated; yes, you and
your wife have been very hospitable toward us--"

"Ah, brother, 'tis nothing--_such_ hospitality!"

"But it _is_ something; the best a man has, freely given, is always
something, and is as good as a prince can do, and ranks right
along beside it--for even a prince can but do his best. And so
we'll shop around and get up this layout now, and don't you worry
about the expense. I'm one of the worst spendthrifts that ever
was born. Why, do you know, sometimes in a single week I spend--
but never mind about that--you'd never believe it anyway."

And so we went gadding along, dropping in here and there, pricing
things, and gossiping with the shopkeepers about the riot, and now
and then running across pathetic reminders of it, in the persons of
shunned and tearful and houseless remnants of families whose homes
had been taken from them and their parents butchered or hanged.
The raiment of Marco and his wife was of coarse tow-linen and
linsey-woolsey respectively, and resembled township maps, it being
made up pretty exclusively of patches which had been added, township
by township, in the course of five or six years, until hardly a
hand's-breadth of the original garments was surviving and present.
Now I wanted to fit these people out with new suits, on account of
that swell company, and I didn't know just how to get at it--
with delicacy, until at last it struck me that as I had already
been liberal in inventing wordy gratitude for the king, it would
be just the thing to back it up with evidence of a substantial
sort; so I said:

"And Marco, there's another thing which you must permit--out of
kindness for Jones--because you wouldn't want to offend him.
He was very anxious to testify his appreciation in some way, but
he is so diffident he couldn't venture it himself, and so he begged
me to buy some little things and give them to you and Dame Phyllis
and let him pay for them without your ever knowing they came from
him--you know how a delicate person feels about that sort of thing--
and so I said I would, and we would keep mum. Well, his idea
was, a new outfit of clothes for you both--"

"Oh, it is wastefulness! It may not be, brother, it may not be.
Consider the vastness of the sum--"

"Hang the vastness of the sum! Try to keep quiet for a moment,
and see how it would seem; a body can't get in a word edgeways,
you talk so much. You ought to cure that, Marco; it isn't good
form, you know, and it will grow on you if you don't check it.
Yes, we'll step in here now and price this man's stuff--and don't
forget to remember to not let on to Jones that you know he had
anything to do with it. You can't think how curiously sensitive
and proud he is. He's a farmer--pretty fairly well-to-do farmer--
an I'm his bailiff; _but_--the imagination of that man! Why,
sometimes when he forgets himself and gets to blowing off, you'd
think he was one of the swells of the earth; and you might listen
to him a hundred years and never take him for a farmer--especially if
he talked agriculture. He _thinks_ he's a Sheol of a farmer; thinks
he's old Grayback from Wayback; but between you and me privately
he don't know as much about farming as he does about running
a kingdom--still, whatever he talks about, you want to drop your
underjaw and listen, the same as if you had never heard such
incredible wisdom in all your life before, and were afraid you
might die before you got enough of it. That will please Jones."

It tickled Marco to the marrow to hear about such an odd character;
but it also prepared him for accidents; and in my experience when
you travel with a king who is letting on to be something else and
can't remember it more than about half the time, you can't take
too many precautions.

This was the best store we had come across yet; it had everything
in it, in small quantities, from anvils and drygoods all the way
down to fish and pinchbeck jewelry. I concluded I would bunch
my whole invoice right here, and not go pricing around any more.
So I got rid of Marco, by sending him off to invite the mason and
the wheelwright, which left the field free to me. For I never care
to do a thing in a quiet way; it's got to be theatrical or I don't
take any interest in it. I showed up money enough, in a careless
way, to corral the shopkeeper's respect, and then I wrote down
a list of the things I wanted, and handed it to him to see if he
could read it. He could, and was proud to show that he could.
He said he had been educated by a priest, and could both read
and write. He ran it through, and remarked with satisfaction that
it was a pretty heavy bill. Well, and so it was, for a little
concern like that. I was not only providing a swell dinner, but
some odds and ends of extras. I ordered that the things be carted
out and delivered at the dwelling of Marco, the son of Marco,
by Saturday evening, and send me the bill at dinner-time Sunday.
He said I could depend upon his promptness and exactitude, it was
the rule of the house. He also observed that he would throw in
a couple of miller-guns for the Marcos gratis--that everybody
was using them now. He had a mighty opinion of that clever
device. I said:

"And please fill them up to the middle mark, too; and add that
to the bill."

He would, with pleasure. He filled them, and I took them with
me. I couldn't venture to tell him that the miller-gun was a
little invention of my own, and that I had officially ordered that
every shopkeeper in the kingdom keep them on hand and sell them
at government price--which was the merest trifle, and the shopkeeper
got that, not the government. We furnished them for nothing.

The king had hardly missed us when we got back at nightfall. He
had early dropped again into his dream of a grand invasion of Gaul
with the whole strength of his kingdom at his back, and the afternoon
had slipped away without his ever coming to himself again. _

Read next: THE TALE OF THE LOST LAND: CHAPTER XXXII - DOWLEY'S HUMILIATION

Read previous: THE TALE OF THE LOST LAND: CHAPTER XXX - THE TRAGEDY OF THE MANOR-HOUSE

Table of content of Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book