CHAPTER XXII
They swarmed up towards Sherburn's house, a-whooping and raging likeInjuns, and everything had to clear the way or get run over andtromped to mush, and it was awful to see. Children was heeling itahead of the mob, screaming and trying to get out of the way; andevery window along the road was full of women's heads, and there wasnigger boys in every tree, and bucks and wenches looking over everyfence; and as soon as the mob would get nearly to them they wouldbreak and skaddle back out of reach. Lots of the women and girls wascrying and taking on, scared most to death.
They swarmed up in front of Sherburn's palings as thick as they couldjam together, and you couldn't hear yourself think for the noise. Itwas a little twenty-foot yard. Some sung out "Tear down the fence!tear down the fence!" Then there was a racket of ripping and tearingand smashing, and down she goes, and the front wall of the crowdbegins to roll in like a wave.
Just then Sherburn steps out onto the roof of his little front porch,with a double-barrel gun in his hand, and takes his stand, perfectlyca'm and deliberate, not saying a word. The racket stopped, and thewave sucked back.
Sherburn never said a word--just stood there, looking down. Thestillness was awful creepy and uncomfortable. Sherburn run his eyeslow along the crowd; and wherever it struck the people tried a littleto outgaze him, but they couldn't; they dropped their eyes and lookedsneaky. Then pretty soon Sherburn sort of laughed; not the pleasantkind, but the kind that makes you feel like when you are eating breadthat's got sand in it.
Then he says, slow and scornful:
"The idea of _you_ lynching anybody! It's amusing. The idea of youthinking you had pluck enough to lynch a _man!_ Because you're braveenough to tar and feather poor friendless cast-out women that comealong here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay yourhands on a _man?_ Why, a _man's_ safe in the hands of ten thousand ofyour kind--as long as it's daytime and you're not behind him.
"Do I know you? I know you clear through. I was born and raised in theSouth, and I've lived in the North; so I know the average all around.The average man's a coward. In the North he lets anybody walk over himthat wants to, and goes home and prays for a humble spirit to bear it.In the South one man, all by himself, has stopped a stage full of menin the daytime, and robbed the lot. Your newspapers call you a bravepeople so much that you think you are braver than any otherpeople--whereas you're just _as_ brave, and no braver. Why don't yourjuries hang murderers? Because they're afraid the man's friends willshoot them in the back, in the dark--and it's just what they _would_do.
"So they always acquit; and then a _man_ goes in the night, with ahundred masked cowards at his back, and lynches the rascal. Yourmistake is, that you didn't bring a man with you; that's one mistake,and the other is that you didn't come in the dark and fetch yourmasks. You brought _part_ of a man--Buck Harkness, there--and if youhadn't had him to start you, you'd 'a' taken it out in blowing.
"You didn't want to come. The average man don't like trouble anddanger. _You_ don't like trouble and danger. But if only _half_ aman--like Buck Harkness, there--shouts 'Lynch him! lynch him!' you'reafraid to back down--afraid you'll be found out to be what youare--_cowards_--and so you raise a yell, and hang yourselves onto thathalf-a-man's coat-tail, and come raging up here, swearing what bigthings you're going to do. The pitifulest thing out is a mob; that'swhat an army is--a mob; they don't fight with courage that's born inthem, but with courage that's borrowed from their mass, and from theirofficers. But a mob without any _man_ at the head of it is _beneath_pitifulness. Now the thing for _you_ to do is to droop your tails andgo home and crawl in a hole. If any real lynching's going to be doneit will be done in the dark, Southern fashion; and when they comethey'll bring their masks, and fetch a _man_ along. Now _leave_--andtake your half-a-man with you"--tossing his gun up across his left armand cocking it when he says this.
The crowd washed back sudden, and then broke all apart, and wenttearing off every which way, and Buck Harkness he heeled it afterthem, looking tolerable cheap. I could 'a' stayed if I wanted to, butI didn't want to.
I went to the circus and loafed around the back side till the watchmanwent by, and then dived in under the tent. I had my twenty-dollar goldpiece and some other money, but I reckoned I better save it, becausethere ain't no telling how soon you are going to need it, away fromhome and amongst strangers that way. You can't be too careful. I ain'topposed to spending money on circuses when there ain't no other way,but there ain't no use in _wasting_ it on them.
It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever waswhen they all come riding in, two and two, and gentleman and lady,side by side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and noshoes nor stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy andcomfortable--there must 'a' been twenty of them--and every lady with alovely complexion, and perfectly beautiful, and looking just like agang of real sure-enough queens, and dressed in clothes that costmillions of dollars, and just littered with diamonds. It was apowerful fine sight; I never see anything so lovely. And then one byone they got up and stood, and went a-weaving around the ring sogentle and wavy and graceful, the men looking ever so tall and airyand straight, with their heads bobbing and skimming along, away upthere under the tent-roof, and every lady's rose-leafy dress flappingsoft and silky around her hips, and she looking like the mostloveliest parasol.
And then faster and faster they went, all of them dancing, first onefoot out in the air and then the other, the horses leaning more andmore, and the ringmaster going round and round the center pole,cracking his whip and shouting "Hi!--hi!" and the clown cracking jokesbehind him; and by and by all hands dropped the reins, and every ladyput her knuckles on her hips and every gentleman folded his arms, andthen how the horses did lean over and hump themselves! And so oneafter the other they all skipped off into the ring, and made thesweetest bow I ever see, and then scampered out, and everybody clappedtheir hands and went just about wild. Well, all through the circusthey done the most astonishing things; and all the time that clowncarried on so it most killed the people. The ringmaster couldn't eversay a word to him but he was back at him quick as a wink with thefunniest things a body ever said; and how he ever _could_ think of somany of them, and so sudden and so pat, was what I couldn't no wayunderstand. Why, I couldn't 'a' thought of them in a year. And by andby a drunken man tried to get into the ring--said he wanted to ride;said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued andtried to keep him out, but he wouldn't listen, and the whole show cometo a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make funof him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear; so thatstirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of thebenches and swarm toward the ring, saying, "Knock him down! throw himout!" and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ringmasterhe made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn't be nodisturbance, and if the man would promise he wouldn't make no moretrouble he would let him ride if he thought he could stay on thehorse. So everybody laughed and said all right, and the man got on.The minute he was on, the horse begun to rip and tear and jump andcavort around, with two circus men hanging on to his bridle trying tohold him, and the drunk man hanging on to his neck, and his heelsflying in the air every jump, and the whole crowd of people standingup shouting and laughing till tears rolled down. And at last, sureenough, all the circus men could do, the horse broke loose, and awayhe went like the very nation, round and round the ring, with that sotlaying down on him and hanging to his neck, with first one leg hangingmost to the ground on one side, and then t'other one on t'other side,and the people just crazy. It warn't funny to me, though; I was all ofa tremble to see his danger. But pretty soon he struggled up astraddleand grabbed the bridle, a-reeling this way and that; and the nextminute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood! and the horsea-going like a house afire, too. He just stood up there, a-sailingaround as easy and comfortable as if he warn't ever drunk in hislife--and then he begun to pull off his clothes and sling
them. Heshed them so thick they kind of clogged up the air, and altogether heshed seventeen suits. And, then, there he was, slim and handsome, anddressed the gaudiest and prettiest you ever saw, and he lit into thathorse with his whip and made him fairly hum--and finally skipped off,and made his bow and danced off to the dressing-room, and everybodyjust a-howling with pleasure and astonishment.
Then the ringmaster he see how he had been fooled, and he _was_ thesickest ringmaster you ever see, I reckon. Why, it was one of his ownmen! He had got up that joke all out of his own head, and never let onto nobody. Well, I felt sheepish enough to be took in so, but Iwouldn't 'a' been in that ringmaster's place, not for a thousanddollars. I don't know; there may be bullier circuses than what thatone was, but I never struck them yet. Anyways, it was plenty goodenough for _me_; and wherever I run across it, it can have all of _my_custom every time.
Well, that night we had _our_ show; but there warn't only about twelvepeople there--just enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all thetime, and that made the duke mad; and everybody left, anyway, beforethe show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke saidthese Arkansaw lunkheads couldn't come up to Shakespeare; what theywanted was low comedy--and maybe something ruther worse than lowcomedy, he reckoned. He said he could size their style. So nextmorning he got some big sheets of wrapping-paper and some black paint,and drawed off some handbills, and stuck them up all over the village.The bills said:
AT THE COURT HOUSE! FOR 3 NIGHTS ONLY! _The World-Renowned Tragedians_ DAVID GARRICK THE YOUNGER! AND EDMUND KEAN THE ELDER! Of the London and Continental Theatres, In their Thrilling Tragedy of THE KING'S CAMELEOPARD, OR THE ROYAL NONESUCH ! ! ! _Admission 50 cents._
Then at the bottom was the biggest line of all, which said:
LADIES AND CHILDREN NOT ADMITTED
"There," says he, "if that line don't fetch them, I don't knowArkansaw!"