The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature) (28 page)

The show was become unendurable. The boy had forgotten not
a word, nor a tone, nor a look, nor a gesture, nor any shade or trifle
of detail-he was letter-perfect, and the house could shut its eyes
anywhere in the performance and know which individual was
being imitated. The boy's deep gravity and sincerity made the
exhibition more and more trying the longer he went on. For a time,
in decorous, disciplined and heroic silence, house and teacher sat
bursting to laugh, with the tears running down, the regulations
requiring noiseless propriety and solemnity; but when the stranger
recited the answer to the triple sum and then put his hands together and raised his despairing eyes toward heaven in exact imitation of Mr. Ferguson's manner, the teacher's face broke up; and
with that concession the house let go with a crash and laughed its
fill thenceforth. But the boy went tranquilly on and on, unheeding
the screams and throes and explosions, clear to the finish; then
made his bow and straightened up and stood, bland and waiting.

It took some time to quiet the school; then Mr. Ferguson said-

"It is the most extraordinary thing I have seen in my life. In this
world there is not another talent like yours, lad; be grateful for it,
and for the noble modesty with which you bear about such a
treasure. How long would you be able to keep in your memory the
things which you have been uttering?"

"I cannot forget anything that I see or hear, sir."

"At all?"

"No, sir."

"It seems incredible-just impossible. Let me experiment a little
-for the pure joy of it. Take my English-French dictionary and sit
down and study it while I go on with the school's exercises. Shall
you be disturbed by us?"

"No, sir."

He took the dictionary and began to skim the pages swiftly, one
after another. Evidently he dwelt upon no page, but merely gave it
a lick from top to bottom with his eye and turned it over. The
school-work rambled on after a fashion, but it consisted of blunders,
mainly, for the fascinated eyes and minds of school and teacher
were oftener on the young stranger than elsewhere. At the end of
twenty minutes the boy laid the book down. Mr. Ferguson noticed
this, and said, with a touch of disappointment in his tone-

"I am sorry. I saw that it did not interest you."

The boy rose and said-

"Oh, sir, on the contrary!" This in French; then in English, "I
have now the words of your language, but the forms not-perhaps,
how you call?-the pronunciation also."

"You have the words? How many of the words do you know?"

"All, sir."

"No-no-there are 645 octavo pages-you couldn't have examined a tenth of them in this short time. A page in two seconds?-it
is impossible."

The boy bowed respectfully, and said nothing.

"There-I am in fault again. I shall learn of you-courtesy. Give
me the book. Begin. Recite-recite!"

It was another miracle. The boy poured out, in a rushing stream,
the words, the definitions, the accompanying illustrative phrases
and sentences, the signs indicating the parts of speech-everything;
he skipped nothing, he put in all the details, and he even got the
pronunciations substantially right, since it was a pronouncingdictionary. Teacher and school sat in a soundless and motionless
spell of awe and admiration, unconscious of the flight of time, unconscious of everything but the beautiful stranger and his stupendous performance. After a long while the juggler interrupted his
recitation to say-in rather cumbrous and hooky English-

"It is of necessity-what you call 'of course,' n'est-ce pas?-that I
now am enabled to apply the machinery of the rules of the grammar, since the meanings of the words which constitute them were
become my possession-" Here he stopped, quoted the violated
rule, corrected his sentence, then went on: "And it is of course that I now understand the languages-language-appropriated to the
lesson of arithmetic-yet not all, the dictionary being in the offensive. As for example, to-wit, 'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Sally
Fitch hunched me, ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon, oh here's a
hand my trusty fere and gie's a hand o' thine.' Some of these words
are by mischance omitted from the dictionary, and thereby results
confusion. Without knowledge of the signification of hunched one
is ignorant of the nature of the explanation preferred by the mademoiselle Thatcher; and if one shall not know what a Doon is, and
whether it is a financial bank or other that is involved, one is still
yet again at a loss."

Silence. The master roused himself as if from a dream, and lifted
his hands and said-

"It is not a parrot-it thinks! Boy, ye are a marvel! With listening
an hour and studying half as long, you have learned the English
language. You are the only person in America that knows all its
words. Let it rest, where it is-the construction will come of itself.
Take up the Latin, now, and the Greek, and shorthand writing,
and the mathematics. Here are the books. You shall have thirty
minutes to each. Then your education will be complete. But tell
me! How do you manage these things? What is your method? You
do not read the page, you only skim it down with your eye, as one
wipes a column of sums from a slate. You understand my English?"

"Yes, master-perfectly. I have no method-meaning I have no
mystery. I see what is on the page-that is all."

"But you see it at a glance."

"But is not the particulars of the page-" He stopped to apply
the rule and correct the sentence: "are not the particulars of the
page the same as the particulars of the school? I see all the pupils at
once; do I not know, then, how each is dressed, and his attitude and
expression, and the color of his eyes and hair, and the length of his
nose, and if his shoes are tied or not? Why shall I glance twice?"

Margaret Stover, over in the comer, drew her untied shoe back
out of sight.

"Ali, well, I have seen no one else who could individualize a thousand details with one sweep of the two eyes. Maybe the eyes of
the admirable creature the dragon-fly can do it, but that is another
matter-he has twelve thousand, and so the haul he makes with his
multitudinous glance is a thing within reason and comprehension.
Get at your Latin, lad." Then with a sigh, "We will proceed with
our poor dull ploddings."

The boy took up the book and began to turn the pages, much as
if he were carefully counting them. The school glanced with an
evil joy at Henry Bascom, and was pleased to note that he was not
happy. He was the only Latin pupil in the school, and his pride in
this distinction was a thing through which his mates were made to
endure much suffering.

The school droned and buzzed along, with the bulk of its mind
and its interest not on its work but fixed in envy and discouragement upon the new scholar. At the end of half an hour it saw him
lay down his Latin book and take up the Greek; it glanced contentedly at Henry Bascom, and a satisfied murmur dribbled down the
benches. In turn the Greek and the mathematics were mastered,
then "The New ShortHand Method, called Phonography" was
taken up. But the phonographic study was short-lived-it lasted but
a minute and twenty seconds; then the boy played with several
other books. The master noticed this, and by and by said-

"So soon done with the Phonography?"

"It is only a set of compact and simple principles, sir. They are
applicable with ease and certainty-like the principles of the mathematics. Also, the examples assist; innumerable combinations of
English words are given, and the vowels eliminated. It is admirable,
this system, for precision and clarity; one could write Greek and
Latin with it, making word-combinations with the vowels excised,
and still be understood."

"Your English is improving by leaps and bounds, my boy."

"Yes, sir. I have been reading these English books. They have
furnished me the forms of the language-the moulds in which it is
cast-the idioms."

"I am past wondering! I think there is no miracle that a mind like this cannot do. Pray go to the blackboard and let me see what
Greek may look like in phonographic word-combinations with the
vowel-signs left out. I will read some passages."

The boy took the chalk, and the trial began. The master read
very slowly; then a little faster; then faster still; then as fast as he
could. The boy kept up, without apparent difficulty. Then the
master threw in Latin sentences, English sentences, French ones,
and now and then a hardy problem from Euclid to be ciphered out.
The boy was competent, all the while.

"It is amazing, my child, amazing-stupefying! Do me one more
miracle, and I strike my flag. Here is a page of columns of figures.
Add them up. I have seen the famous lightning-calculator do it in
three minutes and a quarter, and I know the answer. I will hold the
watch. Beat him!"

The boy glanced at the page, made his bow and said,-

"The total is 4,865,493 if the blurred twenty-third figure in the
fifth column is a 9; if it is a 7, the total is less by 2."

"Right, and he is beaten by incredible odds; but you hadn't time
to even see the blurred figure, let alone note its place. Wait till I
find it-the twenty-third, did you say? Here it is, but I can't tell
which it is-it may be a 9, it may be a 7. But no matter, one of your
answers is right, according to which name we give the figure. Dear
me, can my watch be right? It is long past the noon recess, and
everybody has forgotten his dinner. In my thirty years of schoolteaching experience this has not happened before. Truly it is a day
of miracles. Children, we dull moles are in no condition to further
plod and grub after the excitements and bewilderments of this
intellectual conflagration-school is dismissed. My wonderful
scholar, tell me your name."

The school crowded forward in a body to devour the stranger at
close quarters with their envying eyes; all except Bascom, who
remained apart and sulked.

"Quarante-quatre, sir. Forty-four."

"Why-why-that is only a number, you know, not a name."

The boy bowed. The master dropped the subject.

"When did you arrive in our town?"

"Last night, sir."

"Have you friends or relatives among us?"

"No, sir-none. Mr. Hotchkiss allows me to lodge in his house."

"You will find the Hotchkisses good people, excellent people.
Had you introductions to them?"

"No, sir."

"You see I am curious; but we are all that, in this monotonous
little place, and we mean no harm. How did you make them
understand what you wanted?"

"Through my signs and their compassion. It was cold, and I was
a stranger."

"Good-good-and well stated, without waste of words. It describes the Hotchkisses; it's a whole biography. Whence did you
come-and how?"

Forty-four bowed. The master said, affab]y-

"It was another indiscretion-you will not remember it against
-no, I mean you will forget it, in consid-what I am trying to say
is, that you will overlook it-that is it, overlook it. I am glad you are
come, grateful that you are come."

"I thank you-thank you deeply, sir."

"My official character requires that I precede you in leaving this
house, therefore I do it. This is an apology. Adieu."

"Adieu, my master."

The school made way, and the old gentleman marched out
between the ranks with a grave dignity proper to his official state.

TIE GIRLS went vivaciously chattering away, eager to get home
and tell of the wonders they had seen; but outside of the schoolhouse the boys grouped themselves together and waited; silent,
expectant, and nervous. They paid but little attention to the bitter
weather, they were apparently under the spell of a more absorbing
interest. Henry Bascom stood apart from the others, in the neigh borhood of the door. The new boy had not come out, yet. Tom
Sawyer had halted him to give him a warning.

"Look out for him-he'll be waiting. The bully, I mean-Hen
Bascom. He's treacherous and low down."

"Waiting?"

"Yes-for you."

"What for?"

"To lick you-whip you."

"On what account?"

"Why, he's the bully this year, and you're a fresh."

"Is that a reason?"

"Plenty-yes. He's got to take your measure, and do it to-dayhe knows that."

"It's a custom, then?"

"Yes. He's got to fight you, whether he wants to or not. But he
wants to. You've knocked his Latin layout galley-west."

"Galley west? Je ne-"

"It's just a word, you know. Means you've knocked his props
from under him."

"Knocked his props from under him?"

"Yes-trumped his ace."

"Trumped his-"

"Ace. That's it-pulled his leg."

"I assure you this is an error. I have not pulled his leg."

"But you don't understand. Don't you see? You've graveled him,
and he's disgruntled."

The new boy's face expressed his despair. Tom reflected a moment, then his eye lighted with hope, and he said, with confidence-

"Now you'll get the idea. You see, he held the age on Latin-just
a lone hand, don't you know, and it made him Grand Turk and
Whoopjamboreehoo of the whole school, and he went in procession
all by himself, like Parker's hog. Well, you've walked up to the
captain's office with your Latin, now, and pulled in high, low, jack
and the game, and it's taken the curl out of his tail. There-that's
the idea."

The new boy hesitated, passed his hand over his forehead, and
began, haltingly-

"It is still a little vague. It was but a poor dictionary-that
French-English-and over-rich in omissions. Do you perhaps mean
that he is jealous',"

"Score one! That's it. Jealous-the very word. Now then, there'll
be a ring, and you'll fight. Can you box? do you know the trick of
it?"

"No."

"I'll show you. You'll learn in two minutes and less; it don't
begin with grammar for difficulties. Put up your fists-so. Now
then, hit me . . . . . You notice how I turned that off with my
left? Again . . . . . . Sce?-turned it with my right. Dance
around; caper-like this. Now I'm coming for you-look sharp
. . . . . . That's the ticket-I didn't arrive. Once more . . . . . .
Good! You're all right. Come on. It's a cold day for I