THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT CARNIVAL OF CRIME IN CONNECTICUT

by Mark Twain

I was feeling blithe, almost jocund. I put a match to my cigar, andjust then the morning's mail was handed in. The first superscription Iglanced at was in a handwriting that sent a thrill of pleasure throughand through me. It was Aunt Mary's; and she was the person I loved andhonored most in all the world, outside of my own household. She had beenmy boyhood's idol; maturity, which is fatal to so many enchantments, had not been able to dislodge her from her pedestal; no, it had onlyjustified her right to be there, and placed her dethronement permanentlyamong the impossibilities. To show how strong her influence over me was, I will observe that long after everybody else's "do-stop-smoking" hadceased to affect me in the slightest degree, Aunt Mary could still stirmy torpid conscience into faint signs of life when she touched upon thematter. But all things have their limit in this world. A happy day cameat last, when even Aunt Mary's words could no longer move me. I wasnot merely glad to see that day arrive; I was more than glad--I wasgrateful; for when its sun had set, the one alloy that was able to marmy enjoyment of my aunt's society was gone. The remainder of her staywith us that winter was in every way a delight. Of course she pleadedwith me just as earnestly as ever, after that blessed day, to quit mypernicious habit, but to no purpose whatever; the moment she openedthe subject I at once became calmly, peacefully, contentedlyindifferent--absolutely, adamantinely indifferent. Consequently theclosing weeks of that memorable visit melted away as pleasantly as adream, they were so freighted for me with tranquil satisfaction. I couldnot have enjoyed my pet vice more if my gentle tormentor had been asmoker herself, and an advocate of the practice. Well, the sight of herhandwriting reminded me that I way getting very hungry to see her again. I easily guessed what I should find in her letter. I opened it. Good!just as I expected; she was coming! Coming this very day, too, and bythe morning train; I might expect her any moment. 

I said to myself, "I am thoroughly happy and content now. If my mostpitiless enemy could appear before me at this moment, I would freelyright any wrong I may have done him. "

Straightway the door opened, and a shriveled, shabby dwarf entered. Hewas not more than two feet high. He seemed to be about forty years old. Every feature and every inch of him was a trifle out of shape; and so, while one could not put his finger upon any particular part and say, "This is a conspicuous deformity, " the spectator perceived that thislittle person was a deformity as a whole--a vague, general, evenlyblended, nicely adjusted deformity. There was a fox-like cunning in theface and the sharp little eyes, and also alertness and malice. Andyet, this vile bit of human rubbish seemed to bear a sort of remoteand ill-defined resemblance to me! It was dully perceptible in themean form, the countenance, and even the clothes, gestures, manner, and attitudes of the creature. He was a farfetched, dim suggestion ofa burlesque upon me, a caricature of me in little. One thing about himstruck me forcibly and most unpleasantly: he was covered all over witha fuzzy, greenish mold, such as one sometimes sees upon mildewed bread. The sight of it was nauseating. 

He stepped along with a chipper air, and flung himself into a doll'schair in a very free-and-easy way, without waiting to be asked. Hetossed his hat into the waste-basket. He picked up my old chalk pipefrom the floor, gave the stem a wipe or two on his knee, filled thebowl from the tobacco-box at his side, and said to me in a tone of pertcommand:

"Gimme a match!"

I blushed to the roots of my hair; partly with indignation, but mainlybecause it somehow seemed to me that this whole performance was verylike an exaggeration of conduct which I myself had sometimes beenguilty of in my intercourse with familiar friends--but never, never withstrangers, I observed to myself. I wanted to kick the pygmy into thefire, but some incomprehensible sense of being legally and legitimatelyunder his authority forced me to obey his order. He applied the matchto the pipe, took a contemplative whiff or two, and remarked, in anirritatingly familiar way:

"Seems to me it's devilish odd weather for this time of year. "

I flushed again, and in anger and humiliation as before; for thelanguage was hardly an exaggeration of some that I have uttered inmy day, and moreover was delivered in a tone of voice and with anexasperating drawl that had the seeming of a deliberate travesty of mystyle. Now there is nothing I am quite so sensitive about as a mockingimitation of my drawling infirmity of speech. I spoke up sharply andsaid:

"Look here, you miserable ash-cat! you will have to give a little moreattention to your manners, or I will throw you out of the window!"

The manikin smiled a smile of malicious content and security, puffeda whiff of smoke contemptuously toward me, and said, with a still moreelaborate drawl:

"Come--go gently now; don't put on too many airs with your betters. "

This cool snub rasped me all over, but it seemed to subjugate me, too, for a moment. The pygmy contemplated me awhile with his weasel eyes, andthen said, in a peculiarly sneering way:

"You turned a tramp away from your door this morning. "

I said crustily:

"Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't. How do you know?"

"Well, I know. It isn't any matter how I know. "

"Very well. Suppose I did turn a tramp away from the door--what of it?"

"Oh, nothing; nothing in particular. Only you lied to him. "

"I didn't! That is, I--"

"Yes, but you did; you lied to him. "

I felt a guilty pang--in truth, I had felt it forty times before thattramp had traveled a block from my door--but still I resolved to make ashow of feeling slandered; so I said:

"This is a baseless impertinence. I said to the tramp--"

"There--wait. You were about to lie again. I know what you said to him. You said the cook was gone down-town and there was nothing left frombreakfast. Two lies. You knew the cook was behind the door, and plentyof provisions behind her. "

This astonishing accuracy silenced me; and it filled me with wonderingspeculations, too, as to how this cub could have got his information. Ofcourse he could have culled the conversation from the tramp, but by whatsort of magic had he contrived to find out about the concealed cook? Nowthe dwarf spoke again:

"It was rather pitiful, rather small, in you to refuse to read that pooryoung woman's manuscript the other day, and give her an opinion as toits literary value; and she had come so far, too, and so hopefully. Nowwasn't it?"

I felt like a cur! And I had felt so every time the thing had recurredto my mind, I may as well confess. I flushed hotly and said:

"Look here, have you nothing better to do than prowl around prying intoother people's business? Did that girl tell you that?"

"Never mind whether she did or not. The main thing is, you did thatcontemptible thing. And you felt ashamed of it afterward. Aha! you feelashamed of it now!"

This was a sort of devilish glee. With fiery earnestness I responded:

"I told that girl, in the kindest, gentlest way, that I could notconsent to deliver judgment upon any one's manuscript, because anindividual's verdict was worthless. It might underrate a work of highmerit and lose it to the world, or it might overrate a trashy productionand so open the way for its infliction upon the world: I said that thegreat public was the only tribunal competent to sit in judgment upona literary effort, and therefore it must be best to lay it before thattribunal in the outset, since in the end it must stand or fall by thatmighty court's decision anyway. "

"Yes, you said all that. So you did, you juggling, small-souledshuffler! And yet when the happy hopefulness faded out of that poorgirl's face, when you saw her furtively slip beneath her shawl thescroll she had so patiently and honestly scribbled at--so ashamed of herdarling now, so proud of it before--when you saw the gladness go out ofher eyes and the tears come there, when she crept away so humbly who hadcome so--"

"Oh, peace! peace! peace! Blister your merciless tongue, haven't allthese thoughts tortured me enough without your coming here to fetch themback again!"

Remorse! remorse! It seemed to me that it would eat the very heart outof me! And yet that small fiend only sat there leering at me with joyand contempt, and placidly chuckling. Presently he began to speak again. Every sentence was an accusation, and every accusation a truth. Everyclause was freighted with sarcasm and derision, every slow-dropping wordburned like vitriol. The dwarf reminded me of times when I had flown atmy children in anger and punished them for faults which a little inquirywould have taught me that others, and not they, had committed. Hereminded me of how I had disloyally allowed old friends to be traducedin my hearing, and been too craven to utter a word in their defense. Hereminded me of many dishonest things which I had done; of many which Ihad procured to be done by children and other irresponsible persons; ofsome which I had planned, thought upon, and longed to do, and beenkept from the performance by fear of consequences only. With exquisitecruelty he recalled to my mind, item by item, wrongs and unkindnesses Ihad inflicted and humiliations I had put upon friends since dead, "whodied thinking of those injuries, maybe, and grieving over them, " headded, by way of poison to the stab. 

"For instance, " said he, "take the case of your younger brother, whenyou two were boys together, many a long year ago. He always lovinglytrusted in you with a fidelity that your manifold treacheries were notable to shake. He followed you about like a dog, content to suffer wrongand abuse if he might only be with you; patient under these injuriesso long as it was your hand that inflicted them. The latest picture youhave of him in health and strength must be such a comfort to you! Youpledged your honor that if he would let you blindfold him no harm shouldcome to him; and then, giggling and choking over the rare fun of thejoke, you led him to a brook thinly glazed with ice, and pushed himin; and how you did laugh! Man, you will never forget the gentle, reproachful look he gave you as he struggled shivering out, if you livea thousand years! Oh! you see it now, you see it now!"

"Beast, I have seen it a million times, and shall see it a million more!and may you rot away piecemeal, and suffer till doomsday what I suffernow, for bringing it back to me again!"

The dwarf chuckled contentedly, and went on with his accusing historyof my career. I dropped into a moody, vengeful state, and suffered insilence under the merciless lash. At last this remark of his gave me asudden rouse:

"Two months ago, on a Tuesday, you woke up, away in the night, and fellto thinking, with shame, about a peculiarly mean and pitiful act ofyours toward a poor ignorant Indian in the wilds of the Rocky Mountainsin the winter of eighteen hundred and--"

"Stop a moment, devil! Stop! Do you mean to tell me that even my verythoughts are not hidden from you?"

"It seems to look like that. Didn't you think the thoughts I have justmentioned?"

"If I didn't, I wish I may never breathe again! Look here, friend--lookme in the eye. Who are you?"

"Well, who do you think?"

"I think you are Satan himself. I think you are the devil. "

"No. "

"No? Then who can you be?"

"Would you really like to know?"

"Indeed I would. "

"Well, I am your Conscience!"

In an instant I was in a blaze of joy and exultation. I sprang at thecreature, roaring:

"Curse you, I have wished a hundred million times that you weretangible, and that I could get my hands on your throat once! Oh, but Iwill wreak a deadly vengeance on--"

Folly! Lightning does not move more quickly than my Conscience did!He darted aloft so suddenly that in the moment my fingers clutched theempty air he was already perched on the top of the high bookcase, withhis thumb at his nose in token of derision. I flung the poker at him, and missed. I fired the bootjack. In a blind rage I flew from place toplace, and snatched and hurled any missile that came handy; the storm ofbooks, inkstands, and chunks of coal gloomed the air and beat about themanikin's perch relentlessly, but all to no purpose; the nimble figuredodged every shot; and not only that, but burst into a cackle ofsarcastic and triumphant laughter as I sat down exhausted. While Ipuffed and gasped with fatigue and excitement, my Conscience talked tothis effect:

"My good slave, you are curiously witless--no, I mean characteristicallyso. In truth, you are always consistent, always yourself, always anass. Other wise it must have occurred to you that if you attempted thismurder with a sad heart and a heavy conscience, I would droop under theburdening in influence instantly. Fool, I should have weighed a ton, andcould not have budged from the floor; but instead, you are so cheerfullyanxious to kill me that your conscience is as light as a feather;hence I am away up here out of your reach. I can almost respect a mereordinary sort of fool; but you pah!"

I would have given anything, then, to be heavyhearted, so that I couldget this person down from there and take his life, but I could no morebe heavy-hearted over such a desire than I could have sorrowed over itsaccomplishment. So I could only look longingly up at my master, and raveat the ill luck that denied me a heavy conscience the one only time thatI had ever wanted such a thing in my life. By and by I got to musingover the hour's strange adventure, and of course my human curiositybegan to work. I set myself to framing in my mind some questions forthis fiend to answer. Just then one of my boys entered, leaving the dooropen behind him, and exclaimed:

"My! what has been going on here? The bookcase is all one riddle of--"

I sprang up in consternation, and shouted:

"Out of this! Hurry! jump! Fly! Shut the door! Quick, or my Consciencewill get away!"

The door slammed to, and I locked it. I glanced up and was grateful, tothe bottom of my heart, to see that my owner was still my prisoner. Isaid:

"Hang you, I might have lost you! Children are the heedlessestcreatures. But look here, friend, the boy did not seem to notice you atall; how is that?"

"For a very good reason. I am invisible to all but you. "

I made a mental note of that piece of information with a good deal ofsatisfaction. I could kill this miscreant now, if I got a chance, and noone would know it. But this very reflection made me so lighthearted thatmy Conscience could hardly keep his seat, but was like to float alofttoward the ceiling like a toy balloon. I said, presently:

"Come, my Conscience, let us be friendly. Let us fly a flag of truce fora while. I am suffering to ask you some questions. "

"Very well. Begin. "

"Well, then, in the first place, why were you never visible to mebefore?"

"Because you never asked to see me before; that is, you never asked inthe right spirit and the proper form before. You were just in the rightspirit this time, and when you called for your most pitiless enemy I wasthat person by a very large majority, though you did not suspect it. "

"Well, did that remark of mine turn you into flesh and blood?"

"No. It only made me visible to you. I am unsubstantial, just as otherspirits are. "

This remark prodded me with a sharp misgiving. 

If he was unsubstantial, how was I going to kill him? But I dissembled, and said persuasively:

"Conscience, it isn't sociable of you to keep at such a distance. Comedown and take another smoke. "

This was answered with a look that was full of derision, and with thisobservation added:

"Come where you can get at me and kill me? The invitation is declinedwith thanks. "

"All right, " said I to myself; "so it seems a spirit can be killed, after all; there will be one spirit lacking in this world, presently, orI lose my guess. " Then I said aloud:

"Friend--"

"There; wait a bit. I am not your friend. I am your enemy; I am not yourequal, I am your master, Call me 'my lord, ' if you please. You are toofamiliar. "

"I don't like such titles. I am willing to call you, sir. That is as faras--"

"We will have no argument about this. Just obey, that is all. Go on withyour chatter. "

"Very well, my lord--since nothing but my lord will suit you--I wasgoing to ask you how long you will be visible to me?"

"Always!"

I broke out with strong indignation: "This is simply an outrage. That iswhat I think of it! You have dogged, and dogged, and dogged me, all thedays of my life, invisible. That was misery enough, now to have such alooking thing as you tagging after me like another shadow all the restof my day is an intolerable prospect. You have my opinion my lord, makethe most of it. "

"My lad, there was never so pleased a conscience in this world as I waswhen you made me visible. It gives me an inconceivable advantage. Now Ican look you straight in the eye, and call you names, and leer at you, jeer at you, sneer at you; and you know what eloquence there is invisible gesture and expression, more especially when the effect isheightened by audible speech. I shall always address you henceforth inyour o-w-n s-n-i-v-e-l-i-n-g d-r-a-w-l--baby!"

I let fly with the coal-hod. No result. My lord said:

"Come, come! Remember the flag of truce!"

"Ah, I forgot that. I will try to be civil; and you try it, too, for anovelty. The idea of a civil conscience! It is a good joke; an excellentjoke. All the consciences I have ever heard of were nagging, badgering, fault-finding, execrable savages! Yes; and always in a sweat about somepoor little insignificant trifle or other--destruction catch the lotof them, I say! I would trade mine for the smallpox and seven kinds ofconsumption, and be glad of the chance. Now tell me, why is it that aconscience can't haul a man over the coals once, for an offense, andthen let him alone? Why is it that it wants to keep on pegging at him, day and night and night and day, week in and week out, forever and ever, about the same old thing? There is no sense in that, and no reason init. I think a conscience that will act like that is meaner than the verydirt itself. "

"Well, WE like it; that suffices. "

"Do you do it with the honest intent to improve a man?"

That question produced a sarcastic smile, and this reply:

"No, sir. Excuse me. We do it simply because it is 'business. ' It isour trade. The purpose of it is to improve the man, but we are merelydisinterested agents. We are appointed by authority, and haven'tanything to say in the matter. We obey orders and leave the consequenceswhere they belong. But I am willing to admit this much: we do crowdthe orders a trifle when we get a chance, which is most of the time. Weenjoy it. We are instructed to remind a man a few times of an error; andI don't mind acknowledging that we try to give pretty good measure. Andwhen we get hold of a man of a peculiarly sensitive nature, oh, butwe do haze him! I have consciences to come all the way from China andRussia to see a person of that kind put through his paces, on a specialoccasion. Why, I knew a man of that sort who had accidentally crippleda mulatto baby; the news went abroad, and I wish you may never commitanother sin if the consciences didn't flock from all over the earthto enjoy the fun and help his master exorcise him. That man walked thefloor in torture for forty-eight hours, without eating or sleeping, andthen blew his brains out. The child was perfectly well again in threeweeks. "

"Well, you are a precious crew, not to put it too strong. I think Ibegin to see now why you have always been a trifle inconsistent with me. In your anxiety to get all the juice you can out of a sin, you makea man repent of it in three or four different ways. For instance, youfound fault with me for lying to that tramp, and I suffered over that. But it was only yesterday that I told a tramp the square truth, to wit, that, it being regarded as bad citizenship to encourage vagrancy, Iwould give him nothing. What did you do then: Why, you made me say tomyself, 'Ah, it would have been so much kinder and more blameless toease him off with a little white lie, and send him away feeling that ifhe could not have bread, the gentle treatment was at least something tobe grateful for!' Well, I suffered all day about that. Three days beforeI had fed a tramp, and fed him freely, supposing it a virtuous act. Straight off you said, 'Oh, false citizen, to have fed a tramp!' and Isuffered as usual. I gave a tramp work; you objected to it--after thecontract was made, of course; you never speak up beforehand. Next, Irefused a tramp work; you objected to that. Next, I proposed to kill atramp; you kept me awake all night, oozing remorse at every pore. SureI was going to be right this time, I sent the next tramp away with mybenediction; and I wish you may live as long as I do, if you didn't makeme smart all night again because I didn't kill him. Is there any way ofsatisfying that malignant invention which is called a conscience?"

"Ha, ha! this is luxury! Go on!"

"But come, now, answer me that question. Is there any way?"

"Well, none that I propose to tell you, my son. Ass! I don't care whatact you may turn your hand to, I can straightway whisper a word in yourear and make you think you have committed a dreadful meanness. It is mybusiness--and my joy--to make you repent of everything you do. If I havefooled away any opportunities it was not intentional; I beg to assureyou it was not intentional!"

"Don't worry; you haven't missed a trick that I know of. I never did athing in all my life, virtuous or otherwise, that I didn't repent of intwenty-four hours. In church last Sunday I listened to a charity sermon. My first impulse was to give three hundred and fifty dollars; I repentedof that and reduced it a hundred; repented of that and reduced itanother hundred; repented of that and reduced it another hundred;repented of that and reduced the remaining fifty to twenty-five;repented of that and came down to fifteen; repented of that and droppedto two dollars and a half; when the plate came around at last, Irepented once more and contributed ten cents. Well, when I got home, Idid wish to goodness I had that ten cents back again! You never didlet me get through a charity sermon without having something to sweatabout. "

"Oh, and I never shall, I never shall. You can always depend on me. "

"I think so. Many and many's the restless night I've wanted to take youby the neck. If I could only get hold of you now!"

"Yes, no doubt. But I am not an ass; I am only the saddle of an ass. Butgo on, go on. You entertain me more than I like to confess. "

"I am glad of that. (You will not mind my lying a little, to keep inpractice. ) Look here; not to be too personal, I think you are about theshabbiest and most contemptible little shriveled-up reptile that can beimagined. I am grateful enough that you are invisible to other people, for I should die with shame to be seen with such a mildewed monkey of aconscience as you are. Now if you were five or six feet high, and--"

"Oh, come! who is to blame?"

"I don't know. "

"Why, you are; nobody else. "

"Confound you, I wasn't consulted about your personal appearance. "

"I don't care, you had a good deal to do with it, nevertheless. When youwere eight or nine years old, I was seven feet high, and as pretty as apicture. "

"I wish you had died young! So you have grown the wrong way, have you?"

"Some of us grow one way and some the other. You had a large conscienceonce; if you've a small conscience now I reckon there are reasons forit. However, both of us are to blame, you and I. You see, you used to beconscientious about a great many things; morbidly so, I may say. It wasa great many years ago. You probably do not remember it now. Well, Itook a great interest in my work, and I so enjoyed the anguish whichcertain pet sins of yours afflicted you with that I kept pelting at youuntil I rather overdid the matter. You began to rebel. Of course I beganto lose ground, then, and shrivel a little--diminish in stature, getmoldy, and grow deformed. The more I weakened, the more stubbornly youfastened on to those particular sins; till at last the places on myperson that represent those vices became as callous as shark-skin. Takesmoking, for instance. I played that card a little too long, and I lost. When people plead with you at this late day to quit that vice, that oldcallous place seems to enlarge and cover me all over like a shirt ofmail. It exerts a mysterious, smothering effect; and presently I, yourfaithful hater, your devoted Conscience, go sound asleep! Sound? It isno name for it. I couldn't hear it thunder at such a time. You have somefew other vices--perhaps eighty, or maybe ninety--that affect me in muchthe same way. "

"This is flattering; you must be asleep a good part of your time. "

"Yes, of late years. I should be asleep all the time but for the help Iget. "

"Who helps you?"

"Other consciences. Whenever a person whose conscience I am acquaintedwith tries to plead with you about the vices you are callous to, I getmy friend to give his client a pang concerning some villainy of hisown, and that shuts off his meddling and starts him off to hunt personalconsolation. My field of usefulness is about trimmed down to tramps, budding authoresses, and that line of goods now; but don't youworry--I'll harry you on theirs while they last! Just you put your trustin me. "

"I think I can. But if you had only been good enough to mentionthese facts some thirty years ago, I should have turned my particularattention to sin, and I think that by this time I should not only havehad you pretty permanently asleep on the entire list of human vices, butreduced to the size of a homeopathic pill, at that. That is about thestyle of conscience I am pining for. If I only had you shrunk you downto a homeopathic pill, and could get my hands on you, would I put you ina glass case for a keepsake? No, sir. I would give you to a yellow dog!That is where you ought to be--you and all your tribe. You are not fitto be in society, in my opinion. Now another question. Do you know agood many consciences in this section?"

"Plenty of them. "

"I would give anything to see some of them! Could you bring them here?And would they be visible to me?"

"Certainly not. "

"I suppose I ought to have known that without asking. But no matter, you can describe them. Tell me about my neighbor Thompson's conscience, please. "

"Very well. I know him intimately; have known him many years. I knew himwhen he was eleven feet high and of a faultless figure. But he is verypasty and tough and misshapen now, and hardly ever interests himselfabout anything. As to his present size--well, he sleeps in a cigar-box. "

"Likely enough. There are few smaller, meaner men in this region thanHugh Thompson. Do you know Robinson's conscience?"

"Yes. He is a shade under four and a half feet high; used to be a blond;is a brunette now, but still shapely and comely. "

"Well, Robinson is a good fellow. Do you know Tom Smith's conscience?"

"I have known him from childhood. He was thirteen inches high, andrather sluggish, when he was two years old--as nearly all of us are atthat age. He is thirty-seven feet high now, and the stateliest figure inAmerica. His legs are still racked with growing-pains, but he has a goodtime, nevertheless. Never sleeps. He is the most active and energeticmember of the New England Conscience Club; is president of it. Nightand day you can find him pegging away at Smith, panting with his labor, sleeves rolled up, countenance all alive with enjoyment. He has got hisvictim splendidly dragooned now. He can make poor Smith imagine that themost innocent little thing he does is an odious sin; and then he sets towork and almost tortures the soul out of him about it. "

"Smith is the noblest man in all this section, and the purest; andyet is always breaking his heart because he cannot be good! Only aconscience could find pleasure in heaping agony upon a spirit like that. Do you know my aunt Mary's conscience?"

"I have seen her at a distance, but am not acquainted with her. Shelives in the open air altogether, because no door is large enough toadmit her. "

"I can believe that. Let me see. Do you know the conscience of thatpublisher who once stole some sketches of mine for a 'series' of his, and then left me to pay the law expenses I had to incur in order tochoke him off?"

"Yes. He has a wide fame. He was exhibited, a month ago, with someother antiquities, for the benefit of a recent Member of the Cabinet'sconscience that was starving in exile. Tickets and fares were high, butI traveled for nothing by pretending to be the conscience of an editor, and got in for half-price by representing myself to be the conscience ofa clergyman. However, the publisher's conscience, which was to have beenthe main feature of the entertainment, was a failure--as an exhibition. He was there, but what of that? The management had provided a microscopewith a magnifying power of only thirty thousand diameters, and so nobodygot to see him, after all. There was great and general dissatisfaction, of course, but--"

Just here there was an eager footstep on the stair; I opened the door, and my aunt Mary burst into the room. It was a joyful meeting and acheery bombardment of questions and answers concerning family mattersensued. By and by my aunt said:

"But I am going to abuse you a little now. You promised me, the day Isaw you last, that you would look after the needs of the poor familyaround the corner as faithfully as I had done it myself. Well, I foundout by accident that you failed of your promise. Was that right?"

In simple truth, I never had thought of that family a second time! Andnow such a splintering pang of guilt shot through me! I glanced up atmy Conscience. Plainly, my heavy heart was affecting him. His body wasdrooping forward; he seemed about to fall from the bookcase. My auntcontinued:

"And think how you have neglected my poor protege at the almshouse, youdear, hard-hearted promise-breaker!" I blushed scarlet, and my tonguewas tied. As the sense of my guilty negligence waxed sharper andstronger, my Conscience began to sway heavily back and forth; and whenmy aunt, after a little pause, said in a grieved tone, "Since you neveronce went to see her, maybe it will not distress you now to know thatthat poor child died, months ago, utterly friendless and forsaken!" MyConscience could no longer bear up under the weight of my sufferings, but tumbled headlong from his high perch and struck the floor with adull, leaden thump. He lay there writhing with pain and quaking withapprehension, but straining every muscle in frantic efforts to get up. In a fever of expectancy I sprang to the door, locked it, placed my backagainst it, and bent a watchful gaze upon my struggling master. Alreadymy fingers were itching to begin their murderous work. 

"Oh, what can be the matter!" exclaimed by aunt, shrinking from me, andfollowing with her frightened eyes the direction of mine. My breathwas coming in short, quick gasps now, and my excitement was almostuncontrollable. My aunt cried out:

"Oh, do not look so! You appal me! Oh, what can the matter be? Whatis it you see? Why do you stare so? Why do you work your fingers likethat?"

"Peace, woman!" I said, in a hoarse whisper. "Look elsewhere; pay noattention to me; it is nothing--nothing. I am often this way. It willpass in a moment. It comes from smoking too much. "

My injured lord was up, wild-eyed with terror, and trying to hobbletoward the door. I could hardly breathe, I was so wrought up. My auntwrung her hands, and said:

"Oh, I knew how it would be; I knew it would come to this at last! Oh, Iimplore you to crush out that fatal habit while it may yet be time!You must not, you shall not be deaf to my supplications longer!" Mystruggling Conscience showed sudden signs of weariness! "Oh, promise meyou will throw off this hateful slavery of tobacco!" My Conscience beganto reel drowsily, and grope with his hands--enchanting spectacle! "I begyou, I beseech you, I implore you! Your reason is deserting you! Thereis madness in your eye! It flames with frenzy! Oh, hear me, hear me, andbe saved! See, I plead with you on my very knees!" As she sank beforeme my Conscience reeled again, and then drooped languidly to the floor, blinking toward me a last supplication for mercy, with heavy eyes. "Oh, promise, or you are lost! Promise, and be redeemed! Promise! Promise andlive!" With a long-drawn sigh my conquered Conscience closed his eyesand fell fast asleep!

With an exultant shout I sprang past my aunt, and in an instant I had mylifelong foe by the throat. After so many years of waiting and longing, he was mine at last. I tore him to shreds and fragments. I rent thefragments to bits. I cast the bleeding rubbish into the fire, and drewinto my nostrils the grateful incense of my burnt-offering. At last, andforever, my Conscience was dead!

I was a free man! I turned upon my poor aunt, who was almost petrifiedwith terror, and shouted:

"Out of this with your paupers, your charities, your reforms, yourpestilent morals! You behold before you a man whose life-conflict isdone, whose soul is at peace; a man whose heart is dead to sorrow, deadto suffering, dead to remorse; a man WITHOUT A CONSCIENCE! In my joy Ispare you, though I could throttle you and never feel a pang! Fly!"

She fled. Since that day my life is all bliss. Bliss, unalloyed bliss. Nothing in all the world could persuade me to have a conscience again. I settled all my old outstanding scores, and began the world anew. Ikilled thirty-eight persons during the first two weeks--all of themon account of ancient grudges. I burned a dwelling that interrupted myview. I swindled a widow and some orphans out of their last cow, whichis a very good one, though not thoroughbred, I believe. I have alsocommitted scores of crimes, of various kinds, and have enjoyed my workexceedingly, whereas it would formerly have broken my heart and turnedmy hair gray, I have no doubt. 

In conclusion, I wish to state, by way of advertisement, that medicalcolleges desiring assorted tramps for scientific purposes, either by thegross, by cord measurement, or per ton, will do well to examine the lotin my cellar before purchasing elsewhere, as these were all selectedand prepared by myself, and can be had at a low rate, because I wish toclear, out my stock and get ready for the spring trade.