PUDDNHEAD WILSON EBOOK

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Free site book and epub digitized and proofread by Project Gutenberg. The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson by Mark Twain. No cover available. Download; Bibrec Download This eBook. outside disturbed him. It was carried on in yells, which showed that the people engaged in it were not close together. "Say, Roxy, how does yo' baby come on?.


Puddnhead Wilson Ebook

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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately pages of information about The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson. Print The Tragedy of Pudd . Ebook The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson, Mark twain. EPUB. Wypróbuj 14 dni za darmo lub kup teraz do %!. Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Samuel Langhorne Clemens (November 30, – April site Store · site eBooks · Children's eBooks.

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To make room for more checkouts, you may be able to return titles from your Checkouts page. The story was serialized in The Century Magazine —4 , before being published as a novel in The setting is the fictional Missouri frontier town of Dawson's Landing on the banks of the Mississippi River in the first half of the 19th century. David Wilson, a young lawyer, moves to town and a clever remark of his is misunderstood, which causes locals to brand him a "pudd'nhead" nitwit.

His hobby of collecting fingerprints does not raise his standing in the eyes of the townsfolk, who consider him to be eccentric and do not frequent his law practice. Roxy is principally charged with caring for her inattentive master's infant son Tom Driscoll, who is the same age as her own son.

After fellow slaves are caught stealing and are nearly sold "down the river" to a master in the Deep South, Roxy fears for her son and herself. She considers killing her boy and herself, but decides to switch Chambers and Tom in their cribs to give her son a life of freedom and privilege. The narrative moves forward two decades. Tom Driscoll formerly Valet de Chambre , has been raised to believe that he is white and has become a spoiled aristocrat.

Pudd'nhead Wilson

He is a selfish and dissolute young man. Tom's father has died and granted Roxy her freedom in his will. She worked for a time on river boats, and saved money for her retirement. When she finally is able to retire, she discovers that her bank has failed and all of her savings are gone. She returns to Dawson's Landing to ask for money from Tom. Tom responds to Roxy with derision.

She tells him the truth about his ancestry and that he is her son and partially black; she blackmails him into financially supporting her. Twin Italian noblemen visit Dawson's Landing to some fanfare, and Tom quarrels with one. Desperate for money, Tom robs and murders his wealthy uncle and the blame falls wrongly on one of the Italians.

From that point, the novel proceeds as a crime novel. In a courtroom scene, the whole mystery is solved when Wilson demonstrates, through fingerprints, both that Tom is the murderer, and not the true Driscoll heir.

Although the real Tom Driscoll is restored to his rights, his life changes for the worse. Having been raised as a slave, he feels intense unease in white society.

At the same time, as a white man, he is essentially excluded from the company of blacks. In a final twist, the creditors of Tom's father's estate successfully petition the governor to have Tom's Chambers prison sentence overturned. Shown to be born to a slave mother, he is classified as a slave and is legally included among the property assets of the estate.

He is sold "downriver", helping the creditors recoup their losses. Leia mais Leia menos.

Habilitado Page Flip: He often studied his records, examining and poring over them with absorbing interest until far into the night; but what he found there--if he found anything--he revealed to no one.

Sometimes he copied on paper the involved and delicate pattern left by the ball of the finger, and then vastly enlarged it with a pantograph so that he could examine its web of curving lines with ease and convenience. One sweltering afternoon--it was the first day of July, he was at work over a set of tangled account books in his workroom, which looked westward over a stretch of vacant lots, when a conversation outside disturbed him.

It was carried on in yells, which showed that the people engaged in it were not close together. I got somep'n' better to do den 'sociat'n' wid niggers as black as you is. Is ole Miss Cooper's Nancy done give you de mitten? Dat's de time I got you! If you b'longed to me, I'd sell you down de river 'fo' you git too fur gone.

Fust time I runs acrost yo' marster, I's gwine to tell him so. This idle and aimless jabber went on and on, both parties enjoying the friendly duel and each well satisfied with his own share of the wit exchanged--for wit they considered it. Wilson stepped to the window to observe the combatants; he could not work while their chatter continued.

Over in the vacant lots was Jasper, young, coal black, and of magnificent build, sitting on a wheelbarrow in the pelting sun--at work, supposably, whereas he was in fact only preparing for it by taking an hour's rest before beginning. In front of Wilson's porch stood Roxy, with a local handmade baby wagon, in which sat her two charges--one at each end and facing each other.

From Roxy's manner of speech, a stranger would have expected her to be black, but she was not. Only one sixteenth of her was black, and that sixteenth did not show. She was of majestic form and stature, her attitudes were imposing and statuesque, and her gestures and movements distinguished by a noble and stately grace. Her complexion was very fair, with the rosy glow of vigorous health in her cheeks, her face was full of character and expression, her eyes were brown and liquid, and she had a heavy suit of fine soft hair which was also brown, but the fact was not apparent because her head was bound about with a checkered handkerchief and the hair was concealed under it.

Her face was shapely, intelligent, and comely--even beautiful. She had an easy, independent carriage--when she was among her own caste--and a high and "sassy" way, withal; but of course she was meek and humble enough where white people were. To all intents and purposes Roxy was as white as anybody, but the one sixteenth of her which was black outvoted the other fifteen parts and made her a Negro.

She was a slave, and salable as such.

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Her child was thirty-one parts white, and he, too, was a slave, and by a fiction of law and custom a Negro. He had blue eyes and flaxen curls like his white comrade, but even the father of the white child was able to tell the children apart--little as he had commerce with them--by their clothes; for the white babe wore ruffled soft muslin and a coral necklace, while the other wore merely a coarse tow-linen shirt which barely reached to its knees, and no jewelry.

Roxana had heard that phrase somewhere, the fine sound of it had pleased her ear, and as she had supposed it was a name, she loaded it on to her darling. It soon got shorted to "Chambers," of course. Wilson knew Roxy by sight, and when the duel of wits begun to play out, he stepped outside to gather in a record or two. Jasper went to work energetically, at once, perceiving that his leisure was observed.

Wilson inspected the children and asked:. Wilson chatted along for awhile, and presently got Roxy's fingerprints for his collection--right hand and left--on a couple of his glass strips; then labeled and dated them, and took the "records" of both children, and labeled and dated them also.

Two months later, on the third of September, he took this trio of finger marks again. He liked to have a "series," two or three "takings" at intervals during the period of childhood, these to be followed at intervals of several years.

The next day--that is to say, on the fourth of September--something occurred which profoundly impressed Roxana. Driscoll missed another small sum of money--which is a way of saying that this was not a new thing, but had happened before.

In truth, it had happened three times before. Driscoll's patience was exhausted. He was a fairly humane man toward slaves and other animals; he was an exceedingly humane man toward the erring of his own race.

Theft he could not abide, and plainly there was a thief in his house. Necessarily the thief must be one of his Negros. Sharp measures must be taken. He called his servants before him. There were three of these, besides Roxy: They were not related. Driscoll said:.

Pudd'nhead Wilson (Kobo eBook)

It has done no good. This time I will teach you a lesson. I will sell the thief. Which of you is the guilty one? They all shuddered at the threat, for here they had a good home, and a new one was likely to be a change for the worse. The denial was general. None had stolen anything--not money, anyway--a little sugar, or cake, or honey, or something like that, that "Marse Percy wouldn't mind or miss" but not money--never a cent of money.

They were eloquent in their protestations, but Mr. Driscoll was not moved by them. He answered each in turn with a stern "Name the thief! The truth was, all were guilty but Roxana; she suspected that the others were guilty, but she did not know them to be so. She was horrified to think how near she had come to being guilty herself; she had been saved in the nick of time by a revival in the colored Methodist Church, a fortnight before, at which time and place she "got religion.

She looked at the money awhile with a steady rising resentment, then she burst out with:. Then she covered the tempter with a book, and another member of the kitchen cabinet got it. She made this sacrifice as a matter of religious etiquette; as a thing necessary just now, but by no means to be wrested into a precedent; no, a week or two would limber up her piety, then she would be rational again, and the next two dollars that got left out in the cold would find a comforter--and she could name the comforter.

Was she bad? Was she worse than the general run of her race? They had an unfair show in the battle of life, and they held it no sin to take military advantage of the enemy--in a small way; in a small way, but not in a large one.

They would smouch provisions from the pantry whenever they got a chance; or a brass thimble, or a cake of wax, or an emery bag, or a paper of needles, or a silver spoon, or a dollar bill, or small articles of clothing, or any other property of light value; and so far were they from considering such reprisals sinful, that they would go to church and shout and pray the loudest and sincerest with their plunder in their pockets.

A farm smokehouse had to be kept heavily padlocked, or even the colored deacon himself could not resist a ham when Providence showed him in a dream, or otherwise, where such a thing hung lonesome, and longed for someone to love. But with a hundred hanging before him, the deacon would not take two--that is, on the same night.

On frosty nights the humane Negro prowler would warm the end of the plank and put it up under the cold claws of chickens roosting in a tree; a drowsy hen would step on to the comfortable board, softly clucking her gratitude, and the prowler would dump her into his bag, and later into his stomach, perfectly sure that in taking this trifle from the man who daily robbed him of an inestimable treasure--his liberty--he was not committing any sin that God would remember against him in the Last Great Day.

For the fourth time Mr. Driscoll had said it, and always in the same hard tone. And now he added these words of awful import:.

It was equivalent to condemning them to hell! No Missouri Negro doubted this. Roxy reeled in her tracks, and the color vanished out of her face; the others dropped to their knees as if they had been shot; tears gushed from their eyes, their supplicating hands went up, and three answers came in the one instant.

You ought to be sold down the river. The culprits flung themselves prone, in an ecstasy of gratitude, and kissed his feet, declaring that they would never forget his goodness and never cease to pray for him as long as they lived.

They were sincere, for like a god he had stretched forth his mighty hand and closed the gates of hell against them.Bawn de fust o' Feb'uary. Should a properly filed counter notification be filed, you will be notified and have 10 business days within which to file for a restraining order in Federal Court to prevent the reinstatement of the material.

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