The $30,000 Bequest by Mark Twain (best e reader for manga TXT) 📕
"You have said quite enough," said Aleck, coldly; "let the subject be dropped."
"I'M willing," fervently responded Sally, wiping the sweat from his forehead and looking the thankfulness he had no words for. Then, musingly, he apologized to himself. "I certainly held threes-- I KNOW it--but I drew and didn't fill. That's where I'm so often weak in the game. If I had stood pat--but I didn't. I never do. I don't know enough."
Confessedly defea
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- Author: Mark Twain
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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 traveled among
the uncivilized 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 would
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 honor, sir, that I will never disgrace the Institution,
or those who have placed you in this honorable 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 stranger 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.
In 1842 he entered the class, and made rapid progress in the English
and Latin departments. Indeed, he continued advancing with such
rapidity that he was like to become the first in his class,
and made such unexpected progress, and was so studious, that he had
almost forgotten the pictured saint of his affections. The fresh
wreaths of the pine and cypress had waited anxiously to drop once
more the dews of Heavens upon the heads of those who had so often
poured forth the tender emotions of their souls under its boughs.
He was aware of the pleasure that he had seen there. So one evening,
as he was returning from his reading, he concluded he would pay a visit
to this enchanting spot. Little did he think of witnessing a shadow
of his former happiness, though no doubt he wished it might be so.
He continued sauntering by the roadside, meditating on the past.
The nearer he approached the spot, the more anxious he became.
At the moment a tall female figure flitted across his path, with a
bunch of roses in her hand; her countenance showed uncommon vivacity,
with a resolute spirit; her ivory teeth already appeared as she
smiled beautifully, promenading—while her ringlets of hair dangled
unconsciously around her snowy neck. Nothing was wanting to complete
her beauty. The tinge of the rose was in full bloom upon her cheek;
the charms of sensibility and tenderness were always her associates..
In Ambulinia’s bosom dwelt a noble soul—one that never faded—
one that never was conquered. Her heart yielded to no feeling
but the love of Elfonzo, on whom she gazed with intense delight,
and to whom she felt herself more closely bound, because he sought
the hand of no other. Elfonzo was roused from his apparent reverie.
His books no longer were his inseparable companions—his thoughts
arrayed themselves to encourage him in the field of victory.
He endeavored to speak to his supposed Ambulinia, but his speech
appeared not in words. No, his effort was a stream of fire,
that kindled his soul into a flame of admiration, and carried
his senses away captive. Ambulinia had disappeared, to make him
more mindful of his duty. As she walked speedily away through
the piny woods she calmly echoed: “O! Elfonzo, thou wilt
now look from thy sunbeams. Thou shalt now walk in a new path—
perhaps thy way leads through darkness; but fear not, the stars
foretell happiness.”
Not many days afterward, as surrounded by fragrant flowers she sat
one evening at twilight, to enjoy the cool breeze that whispered
notes of melody along the distant groves, the little birds perched
on every side, as if to watch the movements of their new visitor.
The bells were tolling when Elfonzo silently stole along by the wild
wood flowers, holding in his hand his favorite instrument of music—
his eye continually searching for Ambulinia, who hardly seemed
to perceive him, as she played carelessly with the songsters
that hopped from branch to branch. Nothing could be more striking
than the difference between the two. Nature seemed to have given
the more tender soul to Elfonzo, and the stronger and more courageous
to Ambulinia. A deep feeling spoke from the eyes of Elfonzo—
such a feeling as can only be expressed by those who are blessed
as admirers, and by those who are able to return the same with
sincerity of heart. He was a few years older than Ambulinia:
she had turned a little into her seventeenth. He had almost grown
up in the Cherokee country, with the same equal proportions as one
of the natives. But little intimacy had existed between them until
the year forty-one—because the youth felt that the character of such
a lovely girl was too exalted to inspire any other feeling than
that of quiet reverence. But as lovers will not always be insulted,
at all times and under all circumstances, by the frowns and cold
looks of crabbed old age, which should continually reflect dignity
upon those around, and treat unfortunate as well as the fortunate
with a graceful mien, he continued to use diligence and perseverance.
All this lighted a spark in his heart that changed his whole character,
and like the unyielding Deity that follows the storm to check its
rage in the forest, he resolves for the first time to shake off
his embarrassment and return where he had before only worshiped.
It could not escape Ambulinia’s penetrating eye that he sought
an interview with her, which she as anxiously avoided, and assumed
a more distant calmness than before, seemingly to destroy all hope.
After many efforts and struggles with his own person, with timid
steps the Major approached the damsel, with the same caution
as he would have done in a field of battle. “Lady Ambulinia,”
said he, trembling, “I have long desired a moment like this.
I dare not let it escape. I fear the consequences; yet I hope
your indulgence will at least hear my petition. Can you not
anticipate what I would say, and what I am about to express?
Will not you, like Minerva, who sprung from the brain of Jupiter,
release me from thy winding chains or cure me—” “Say no more,
Elfonzo,” answered Ambulinia, with a serious look, raising her hand
as if she intended to swear eternal hatred against the whole world;
“another lady in my place would have perhaps answered your question
in bitter coldness. I know not the little arts of my sex.
I care but little for the vanity of those who would chide me,
and am unwilling as well as shamed to be guilty of anything
that would lead you to think ‘all is not gold that glitters’;
so be not rash in your resolution. It is better to repent now than
to do it in a more solemn hour. Yes, I know what you would say.
I know you have a costly gift for me—the noblest that man can make—
YOUR HEART! you should not offer it to one so unworthy.
Heaven, you know, has allowed my father’s house to be made a house
of solitude, a home of silent obedience, which my parents say
is more to be admired than big names and high-sounding titles.
Notwithstanding all this, let me speak the emotions of an honest heart;
allow me to say in the fullness of my hopes that I anticipate
better days. The bird may stretch its wings toward the sun,
which it can never reach; and flowers of the field appear to
ascend in the same direction, because they cannot do otherwise;
but man confides his complaints to the saints in whom he believes;
for in their abodes of light they know no more sorrow. From your
confession and indicative looks, I must be that person; if so,
deceive not yourself.”
Elfonzo replied, “Pardon me, my dear madam, for my frankness.
I have loved you from my earliest days; everything grand and beautiful
hath borne the image of Ambulinia; while precipices on every hand
surrounded me, your GUARDIAN ANGEL stood and beckoned me away from
the deep abyss. In every trial, in every misfortune, I have met
with your helping hand; yet I never dreamed or dared to cherish
thy love till a voice impaired with age encouraged the cause,
and declared they who acquired thy favor should win a victory.
I saw how Leos worshipped thee. I felt my own unworthiness.
I began to KNOW JEALOUSY—a strong guest, indeed, in my bosom—
yet I could see if I gained your admiration Leos was to be my rival.
I was aware that he had the influence of your parents, and the wealth
of a deceased relative, which is too often mistaken for permanent
and regular tranquillity; yet I have determined by your permission
to beg an interest in your prayers—to ask you to animate my dropping
spirits by your smiles and your winning looks; for if you but speak
I shall be conqueror, my enemies shall stagger like Olympus shakes.
And though earth and sea may tremble, and the charioteer of the sun
may forget his dashing steed, yet I am assured that it is only
to arm me with divine weapons which will enable me to complete my
long-tried intention.”
“Return to your self, Elfonzo,” said Ambulinia, pleasantly; “a dream
of vision has disturbed your intellect; you are above the atmosphere,
dwelling in the celestial regions; nothing is there that urges
or hinders, nothing that brings discord into our present litigation.
I entreat you to condescend a little, and be a man, and forget it all.
When Homer describes the battle of the gods and noble men fighting
with giants and dragons, they represent under this image our struggles
with the delusions of our passions. You have exalted me, an unhappy girl,
to the skies; you have called me a saint, and portrayed in your
imagination an angel in human form. Let her remain such to you,
let her continue to be as you have supposed, and be assured that she
will consider a share in your esteem as her highest treasure.
Think not that I would allure you from the path in which your
conscience leads you; for you know I respect the conscience of others,
as I would die for my own. Elfonzo, if I am worthy of thy love,
let such conversation never again pass between us. Go, seek a nobler
theme! we will seek it in the stream of time as the sun set in
the Tigris.” As she spake these words she grasped the hand of Elfonzo,
saying at the same time, “Peace and prosperity attend you, my hero:
be up and doing!” Closing her remarks with this expression,
she walked slowly away, leaving Elfonzo astonished and amazed.
He ventured not to follow or detain her. Here he stood alone,
gazing at the stars; confounded as he was,
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