The £1,000,000 bank-note, and other new storiesTwain, Mark
General
The £1,000,000 bank-note, and other new stories
Twain, Mark
American essays -- 19th century; American fiction -- 19th century; Humorous stories, American
‘The principal of the Institution begged him to be seated, and listen to
the recitations that were going on. He accordingly obeyed the request,
and seemed to be much pleased. After the school was dismissed, and the
young hearts regained their freedom, with the songs of the evening,
laughing at the anticipated pleasures of a happy home, while others
tittered at the actions of the past day, he addressed the teacher in a
tone that indicated a resolution—with an undaunted mind. He said he had
determined to become a student, if he could meet with his approbation.
“Sir,” said he, “I have spent much time in the world. I have travelled
among the uncivilised inhabitants of America. I have met with friends,
and combated with foes; but none of these gratify my ambition, or decide
what is to be my destiny. I see the learned world have an influence with
the voice of the people themselves. The despoilers of the remotest
kingdoms of the earth refer their differences to this class of persons.
This the illiterate and inexperienced little dream of; and now, if you
will receive me as I am, with these deficiencies—with all my misguided
opinions, I will give you my honour, sir, that I will never disgrace the
Institution or those who have placed you in this honourable station.”
The instructor, who had met with many disappointments, knew how to feel
for a stranger who had been thus turned upon the charities of an
unfeeling community. He looked at him earnestly, and said: “Be of good
cheer—look forward, sir, to the high destination you may attain.
Remember, the more elevated the mark at which you aim, the more sure,
the more glorious, the more magnificent the prize.” From wonder to
wonder, his encouragement led the impatient listener. A strange nature
bloomed before him—giant streams promised him success—gardens of hidden
treasures opened to his view. All this, so vividly described, seemed to
gain a new witchery from his glowing fancy.’
It seems to me that this situation is new in romance. I feel sure it has
not been attempted before. Military celebrities have been disguised and
set at lowly occupations for dramatic effect, but I think McClintock is
the first to send one of them to school. Thus, in this book, you pass
from wonder to wonder, through gardens of hidden treasure, where giant
streams bloom before you, and behind you, and all around, and you feel
as happy, and groggy, and satisfied, with your quart of mixed metaphor
aboard, as you would if it had been mixed in a sample-room, and
delivered from a jug.
Now we come upon some more McClintockian surprises—a sweetheart who is
sprung upon us without any preparation, along with a name for her which
is even a little more of a surprise than she herself is.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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