When he got out the new judge said he was a-going to make a man of him. So he took him to his own house, and dressed him up clean and nice, and had him to breakfast and dinner and supper with the family, and was just old pie to him, so to speak. And after supper he talked to him about temperance and such things till the old man cried, and said hed been a fool, and fooled away his life; but now he was a-going to turn over a new leaf and be a man nobody wouldnt be ashamed of, and he hoped the judge would help him and not look down on him. The judge said he could hug him for them words; so he cried, and his wife she cried again; pap said hed been a man that had always been misunderstood before, and the judge said he believed it. The old man said that what a man wanted that was down was sympathy, and the judge said it was so; so they cried again. And when it was bedtime the old man rose up and held out his hand, and says:
Look at it, gentlemen and ladies all; take a-hold of it; shake it. Theres a hand that was the hand of a hog; but it aint so no more; its the hand of a man thats started in on a new life, andll die before hell go back. You mark them wordsdont forget I said them. Its a clean hand now; shake itdont be afeard.
So they shook it, one after the other, all around, and cried. The judges wife she kissed it. Then the old man he signed a pledgemade his mark. The judge said it was the holiest time on record, or something like that. Then they tucked the old man into a beautiful room, which was the spare room, and in the night some time he got powerful thirsty and clumb out on to the porch-roof and slid down a stanchion and traded his new coat for a jug of forty-rod, and clumb back again and had a good old time; and towards daylight he crawled out again, drunk as a fiddler, and rolled off the porch and broke his left arm in two places, and was most froze to death when somebody found him after sun-up. And when they come to look at that spare room they had to take soundings before they could navigate it.
The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform the old man with a shotgun, maybe, but he didnt know no other way.
Thank you for that.
Mark Twain was no dummy.
The writer of this article is correct and incredibly racist
One can be both at the same time in some instances
God knows I go off sometimes with my emotions filled and say racist things
I’m not a writer.
Who should be proofreading is work to make sure he just doesn’t come across as a hateful vengeful racist
I wonder if he is a Christian. Or just one of those part-time ones
I myself am guilty of being a part-time one. I am trying
He is 100% percent correct about the transplant being wasted. I never said he wasn’t