(Late 1860s or late 1880s)
Mark Twain did not give this piece a title. “Colloquy Between a Slum Child and a Moral Mentor,” a rather formal title apparently supplied by Dixon Wecter when he was Editor of the Mark Twain Papers, has been retained, since it seems in accord with the pompous gravity of the mentor's religious instruction. The only available text is a typescript made for Wecter from a manuscript once in the possession of Doris and Samuel Charles Webster. The manuscripts which formed the Webster collection were, for the most part, written either before 1870 or between 1885 and 1888, when Charles L. Webster was a partner and manager of Clemens' publishing house. “Colloquy” was probably written during one of those periods; the 1860s, when Clemens often satirized pious religious tracts and Sunday school sentimentalities, is more likely. In the event the manuscript has survived, it may, if discovered, make possible a more precise dating.
"Who made the grass?”Ⓐemendation
“Chief Police.”
“No, no—not the Chief of Police. God made the grass. Say it, now.”
“God made the grass.”
“That is right. Who takes care of the beautiful grass and makes it grow?”
“Chief Police.”
“Oh, no, no, no—not the Chief of Police. The good God takes care of the grass and makes it grow. Say it, my boy—that's a good fellow.”
“The good God takes care of the grassⒶalteration in the MS and makes it grow.”
“How does grass grow?”
“With an iron railing around it.”
“No, I do not mean that. I mean, what does it come from? It comes from little tiny seeds.Ⓐalteration in the MS The good Heavenly Father makes the grass to grow from little seeds. You won't forget that now, will you?”
“BetⒶalteration in the MS your bottom dollar!”
“Ah, naughty, naughty boy. You must not use slang. Where do little boys go who use slang?”
“Dono. I goes to the Bowery when shining's good and I've got the lush.”Ⓐalteration in the MS
[begin page 107]“Tut, tut, tut! Don't talk so. You make me nervous. Little boys who talk that way go to the——bad place!”
“No—butⒶalteration in the MS do they? Where is it?”
“It is where there is fire and brimstone always and forever.”
“Suits Crooks! I never ben warm enough yet, onyⒶalteration in the MS summer time. Wisht I'd a ben there in the winter when I hadn't any bed kiver but a shutter. That Higgins boy he busted two of the slats out, and then I couldn't keep the cold out no way. It had a beautiful brass knob on it, Cap., but brass knobs ain't no good, ony for style, you know. I'd like to ben in that bad place them times, by hokey!”
“Don't swear, James. It is wicked.”
“What's wicked?”
“Why, to be wicked is to do what one ought not to do—to violate the moral ordinances provided for the regulation of our conduct in this vale of sorrows, and for the elevation and refinement of our social and intellectual natures.”
“Gee—whillikins!”
“Don't use such words, my son—pray don't.”
“Well, then I won't—but I didn't mean no harm—wish I may die if I did. But you made a ‘spare,’ that time, didn't you?”
“A ‘spare?’ What is a spare, my child?”
“You don't know what a ‘spare’ is? Oh, no, gov'nerⒶalteration in the MS, that cat won't fight, you know. Fool who, with your nigger babies whitewashed with brickdust!”
“Well, I believe it is nearly useless to try to break you of using slang, my poor, neglected boy. But truly, I do not know what a ‘spare’ is. What is a ‘spare?’ ”
“Well, if you ain't ignorant, I'm blowed! Why a spare is where you fetch all the pins with two balls—and when you make a ten-strike, you've got two spares, you know. Well, when you got off all of them jaw-breakers, I judged the pins was all down on your alley, anyway.”
“I stand rebuked, James. Egotism will betray the best of us to humiliation.”
“SpareⒶalteration in the MS! I tell you them winders of yours snakes the head pin every time, gov'ner.”
“Conquered again!—Well, James, we will go back to the old lesson. I am out of my elementⒶalteration in the MS in this. James, what is grass for?”
[begin page 108]“To make parks out of,—like the City Hall.”
“Is that all? Isn't it to make the pretty fields, and lawns, and meadows?”
“Don't know nothing about them things—never seen 'em.”
“Ah, pity. What does our Heavenly Father do with the grass when HeⒶemendation Ⓐtextual note makes it?”
“Puts it in the Hall park and puts up a sign, ‘Keep off'n the grass—dogs ain't allowed.’ ”Ⓐemendation
“Poor boy! And what does He put it there for?”
“To look at, through the railings.”
“Well, it really does seem so. What would you do with the beautiful grass that God has made, if you had it?”
“Roll in it! Oh, gay!”
“Well, I wish in my heart the City Fathers would let you—so that you might have one pleasure that God intended for all childhood, even the children of poverty!—yea,Ⓐalteration in the MS that He intended even for vagrant dogs, that shun the tax and gain precarious livelihoods by devious ways and questionable practices.”
“Set 'em up again, gov'ner!”
“I was partly talking to myself, James—that is why I used the long words. James, who made you?”
“Chief Police, I guess.”
“Mercy! I wish I could get that all-powerful potentate out of your head. No, James, God made you.”
“Did he, though?”
“Yes—God made you, as well as the grass.”
“Honest injun? That's bullyⒶalteration in the MS. But I wish he'd fence me in and take care of me, same as he doesⒶalteration in the MS the grass.”
“He does take care of you James. You ought to be very thankful to Him.Ⓐalteration in the MS He gives you the clothes you wear—”
“Gov'nerⒶalteration in the MS, I got them pants from Mike the ragman, myself.”
“But they came from above,Ⓐalteration in the MS James—they came from your Heavenly Father. He gave them to you.”
“I pass. But I reckon I had to pay for 'em, though. Mike never told me. He never said nothing about parties giving 'em to me.”Ⓐalteration in the MS
“Why, James! But then you do not know any better. And He gives you your food—”
[begin page 109]“'Spensary soup! I wisht I had a cagⒶalteration in the MS of it!”
“And the bed that you sleep in—”
“CellarⒶalteration in the MS door and a shutter with a brass knob on it. Now look-a-here gov'ner, you're a guying me. You never tried a shutter. I ain't thankful for no such a bed as that.”
“But you ought to be, James, you ought to be. Think how manyⒶalteration in the MS boys are worse off than you are.”
“I give in, I do. There's that-there Peanut Jim—his parents is awful poor. He ain't got no shutter. I was always sorry for that poor cuss.”*
*Founded on absolute fact. A little girl sleeping in an upper room of a New York tenement house on a cold night, with a dilapidated window-shutter for a coverlet, said: “Mother, I am so sorry for poor little girls that haven't got any window-shutterⒶemendation! I ought to be very thankful.” (Respectfully recommended for the Sunday School books.)
The copy-text for this work is a typescript prepared by Dixon Wecter during his tenure as editor of the Mark Twain Papers. The manuscript, then in the possession of Samuel Charles Webster, is not currently available. That Wecter based his typescript on the manuscript is evident from the typescript's form—a diplomatic text which includes cancellations struck through and interlineations typed above the line. It is unlikely that Mark Twain ever had a typescript made.
The same principles of emendation have been applied to this text as to the other works in this volume, but in the absence of the manuscript it cannot be determined whether the oversights corrected were the author's or the typist's. Similarly, the list of Mark Twain's revisions may be defective and should be used with the caution reserved for a transcription that cannot be checked against its source.
No ambiguous compound is hyphenated at the end of a line.