 | Mark Twain's sketches, new and old |  |
THE “JUMPING FROG.”
IN ENGLISH. THEN IN FRENCH.
THEN CLAWED BACK INTO A
CIVILIZED LANGUAGE ONCE MORE
BY PATIENT, UNREMUNERATED
TOIL.
EVEN a criminal is entitled
to fair play; and certainly
when a man who has done
no harm has been unjustly treated,
he is privileged to do his best to
right himself. My attention has
just been called to an article some
three years old in a French Magazine
entitled “Revue des Deux
Mondes” (Review of Some Two Worlds), wherein the writer treats of “Les
Humoristes Americaines” (These Humorists Americans). I am one of these
This gentleman's article is an able one (as articles go, in the French, where
they always tangle up everything to that degree that when you start into a sentence
you never know whether you are going to come out alive or not). It is a
very good article, and the writer says all manner of kind and complimentary
things about me—for which I am sure I thank him with all my heart; but then
why should he go and spoil all his praise by one unlucky experiment? What
I refer to is this: he says my Jumping Frog is a funny story, but still he can't
see why it should ever really convulse anyone with laughter—and straightway
proceeds to translate it into French in order to prove to his nation that there is
nothing so very extravagantly funny about it. Just there is where my complaint
originates. He has not translated it at all; he has simply mixed it all up; it is
no more like the Jumping Frog when he gets through with it than I am like a
meridian of longitude. But my mere assertion is not proof; wherefore I print
the French version, that all may see that I do not speak falsely; furthermore, in
order that even the unlettered may know my injury and give me their compassion,
I have been at infinite pains and trouble to re-translate this French version
back into English; and to tell the truth I have well nigh worn myself out at it,
having scarcely rested from my work during five days and nights. I cannot
speak the French language, but I can translate very well, though not fast, I
being self-educated. I ask the reader to run his eye over the original English
version of the Jumping Frog, and then read the French or my re-translation,
and kindly take notice how the Frenchman has riddled the grammar. I think it
is the worst I ever saw; and yet the French are called a polished nation. If I
had a boy that put sentences together as they do, I would polish him to some
purpose. Without further introduction, the Jumping Frog, as I originally
wrote it, was as follows—[after it will be found the French version, and after
the latter my re-translation from the French]:
THE NOTORIOUS JUMPING FROG OF CALAVERAS[1] COUNTY.
In compliance with the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the East, I called on
good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired after my friend's friend, Leonidas
Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth; that my friend never knew such a personage; and that he only
conjectured that if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would remind him of his infamous Jim
Smiley, and he would go to work and bore me to death with some exasperating reminiscence of
him as long and as tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it succeeded.
I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of the dilapidated tavern in the
decayed mining camp of Angel's, and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an
expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up,
and gave me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had commissioned me to make some inquiries
about a cherished companion of his
boyhood named Leondias W. Smiley—
Rev. Leondias W. Smiley, a young
minister of the Gospel, who he had
heard was at one time a resident of
Angel's Camp. I added that if Mr.
Wheeler could tell me anything about
this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, I would
feel under many obligations to him.
Simon Wheeler backed me into a
corner and blockaded me there with
his chair, and then sat down and reeled
off the monotonous narrative which follows
this paragraph. He never smiled, he
never frowned, he never changed his
voice from the gentle-flowing key to
which he tuned his initial sentence, he
never betrayed the slightest suspicion of
enthusiasm; but all through the interminable
narrative there ran a vein of
impressive earnestness and sincerity,
which showed me plainly that, so far from his imagining that there was anything ridiculous or
funny about his story, he regarded it as a really important matter, and admired its two heroes as
men of transcendent genius in finesse. I let him go on in his own way, and never interrupted him
once.
“Rev. Leonidas W. H'm, Reverend Le—well, there was a feller here once by the name of Jim
Smiley, in the winter of '49—or may be it was the spring of '50—I don't recollect exactly, somehow,
though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I remember the big flume
betting on anything that turned up you ever see, if he could get anybody to bet on the other
side; and if he couldn't he'd change sides. Any way that suited the other man would suit him—
any way just so's he got a bet, he was satisfied. But still he was lucky, uncommon lucky; he most
always come out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance; there couldn't be no solit'ry
thing mentioned but that feller'd offer to bet on it, and take ary side you please, as I was just
telling you. If there was a horse-race, you'd find him flush or you'd find him busted at the end of
it; if there was a dog-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a cat-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a
chicken-fight, he'd bet on it; why, if there was two birds setting on a fence, he would bet you
which one would fly first; or if there was
a camp-meeting, he would be there reg'lar
to bet on Parson Walker, which he judged
to be the best exhorter about here, and so
he was too, and a good man. If he even see
a straddle-bug start to go anywheres, he
would bet you how long it would take
him to get to—to wherever he was going
to, and if you took him up, he would foller
that straddle-bug to Mexico but what he
would find out where he was bound for and
how long he was on the road. Lots of the
boys here has seen that Smiley, and can
tell you about him. Why, it never made
no difference to him — he'd bet on any
thing — the dangdest feller. Parson Walker's
wife laid very sick once, for a good
while, and it seemed as if they warn't going
to save her; but one morning he come in,
and Smiley up and asked him how she was, and he said she was considable better—thank the
Lord for his inf'nit mercy—and coming on so smart that with the blessing of Prov'dence she'd get
well yet; and Smiley, before he thought says, “Well, I'll resk two-and-a-half she don't anyway.”
Thish-yer Smiley had a mare—the boys called her the fifteen-minute nag, but that was only in fun,
you know, because of course she was faster than that—and he used to win money on that horse,
for all she was so slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper, or the consumption, or something
of that kind. They used to give her two or three hundred yards' start, and then pass her
under way; but always at the fag-end of the race she'd get excited and desperate-like, and come
cavorting and straddling up, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the air, and
racket with her coughing and sneezing and blowing her nose—and always fetch up at the stand just
about a neck ahead, as near as you could cipher it down.
And he had a little small bull-pup, that to look at him you'd think he warn't worth a cent but to
set around and look ornery and lay for a chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up
on him he was a different dog; his under-jaw'd begin to stick out like the fo'castle of a steamboat,
and his teeth would uncover and shine like the furnaces. And a dog might tackle him and bully-rag
him, and bite him, and throw him over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew Jackson—
which was the name of the pup—Andrew Jackson would never let on but what he was satisfied, and
hadn't expected nothing else—and the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the
time, till the money was all up; and then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog jest by the
j'int of his hind leg and freeze to it—not chaw, you understand, but only just grip and hang on till
they throwed up the sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winner on that pup, till he
harnessed a dog once that did'nt have no hind legs, because they'd been sawed off in a circular saw,
and when the thing had gone along far enough, and the money was all up, and he come to make a
snatch for his pet holt, he see in a minute how he'd been imposed on, and how the other dog had
him in the door, so to speak, and he 'peared surprised, and then he looked sorter discouraged-like,
and didn't try no more to win the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He give Smiley a look, as
much as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault, for putting up a dog that hadn't no hind
legs for him to take holt of, which was his main dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a
piece and laid down and died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson, and would have made
a name for hisself if he'd lived, for the stuff was in him and he had genius—I know it, because he
hadn't no opportunities to speak of, and it don't stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight
as he could under them circumstances if he hadn't no talent. It always makes me feel sorry when
I think of that last fight of his'n, and the way it turned out.
Well, thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, and chicken cocks, and tom-cats and all them kind of
things, till you couldn't rest, and you couldn't fetch nothing for him to bet on but he'd match you.
He ketched a frog one day, and took him home, and said he cal'lated to educate him; and so he
never done nothing for three months but set in his back yard and learn that frog to jump. And
you bet you he did learn him, too. He'd give him a little punch behind, and the next minute you'd
see that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut—see him turn one summerset, or may be a couple,
if he got a good start, and come down flat-footed and all right, like a cat. He got him up so in the
matter of ketching flies, and kep' him in practice so constant, that he'd nail a fly every time as fur
as he could see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted was education, and he could do 'most anything
—and I believe him. Why, I've seen him set Dan'l Webster down here on this floor—Dan'l Webster
was the name of the frog—and sing out, “Flies, Dan'l, flies!” and quicker'n you could wink
he'd spring straight up and snake a fly off'n the counter there, and flop down on the floor ag'in as
as if he hadn't no idea he'd been doin' any more'n any frog might do. You never see a frog so
modest and straightfor'ard as he was, for all he was so gifted. And when it come to fair and square
jumping on a dead level, he could get over more ground at one straddle than any animal of his
breed you ever see. Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit, you understand; and when it
come to that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley was monstrous
proud of his frog, and well he might be, for fellers that had traveled and been everywheres, all said he
laid over any frog that ever they see.
Well, Smiley kep' the beast in a little lattice box, and he used to fetch him down town sometimes
and lay for a bet. One day a feller—a stranger in the camp, he was—come acrost him with his box,
and says:
“What might it be that you've got in the box?”
And Smiley says, sorter indifferent-like, “It might be a parrot, or it might be a canary, maybe,
but it ain't—it's only just a frog.”
And the feller took it, and looked at it careful, and turned it round this way and that, and says,
“H'm—so 'tis. Well, what's he good for?”
“Well,” Smiley, says, easy and careless, “he's good enough for one thing, I should judge—he can
outjump any frog in Calaveras county.”
The feller took the box again, and took another long, particular look, and give it back to Smiley,
and says, very deliberate, “Well,” he says, “I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n
any other frog.”
“Maybe you don't,” Smiley says. “Maybe you understand frogs and maybe you don't understand
'em; maybe you've had experience, and maybe you ain't only a amature, as it were. Anyways, I've
got my opinion and I'll resk forty dollars that he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county.”
And the feller studied a minute, and then says, kinder sad like, “Well, I'm only a stranger here,
and I ain't got no frog; but if I had a frog, I'd bet you.”
And then Smiley says, “That's all right—that's all right—if you'll hold my box a minute, I'll go
and get you a frog.” And so the feller took the box, and put up his forty dollars along with Smiley's,
and set down to wait.
So he set there a good while thinking and thinking to hisself, and then he got the frog out and
prized his mouth open and took a teaspoon and filled him full of quail shot—filled him pretty near
up to his chin—and set him on the floor. Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in the
mud for a long time, and finally he ketched a frog, and fetched him in, and give him to this feller,
and says:
“Now, if you're ready, set him alongside of Dan'l, with his fore-paws just even with Dan'l's, and
I'll give the word.” Then he says, “One—two—three—git!” and him and the feller touched up
the frogs from behind, and the new frog hopped off lively, but Dan'l give a heave, and hysted up
his shoulders—so—like a Frenchman, but it warn't no use—he couldn't budge; he was planted as
solid as a church, and he couldn't no more stir than if he was anchored out. Smiley was a good
deal surprised, and he was disgusted too, but he didn't have no idea what the matter was, of course.
The feller took the money and started away; and when he was going out at the door, he sorter
jerked his thumb over his shoulder—so—at Dan'l, and says again, very deliberate, “Well,” he says
“I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n any other frog.”
Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Dan'l a long time, and at last he says,
“I do wonder what in the nation that frog throw'd off for—I wonder if there ain't something the
matter with him—he 'pears to look mighty baggy, somehow.” And he ketched Dan'l by the nap
of the neck, and hefted him, and says, “Why blame my cats if he don't weigh five pound!” and
turned him upside down and he belched out a double handful of shot. And then he see how it
was, and he was the maddest man—he set the frog down and took out after that feller, but he never
ketched him. And—”
[Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard, and got up to see what was
rest easy—I ain't going to be gone a second.”
But, by your leave, I did not think that a continuation of the history of the enterprising vagabond
Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much information concerning the Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley,
and so I started away.
At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning, and he button-holed me and re-commenced:
“Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yaller one-eyed cow that didn't have no tail, only jest a short
stump like a bannanner, and—”
However, lacking both time and inclination, I did not wait to hear about the afflicted cow, but
took my leave.
Now let the learned look upon this picture and say if iconoclasm can further go:
[From the Revue des Deux Mondes, of July 15th, 1872.]
LA GRENOUILLE SANTEUSE DU COMTE DE CALAVERAS.
“—Il y avait une fois ici un individu connu sous le nom de Jim Smiley: c'était dans l'hiver de
49, peut-être bien au printemps de 50, je ne me rappelle pas exactement. Ce qui me fait croire que
au camp pour la premiére fois, mais de toutes façons il était l'homme le plus friand de paris qui se
pût voir, pariant sur tout ce qui se présentait, quand il pouvait trouver un adversaire, et, quand il
n'en trouvait pas il passait du côté opposé. Tout ce qui convenait à l'autre lui convenait; pourvu
qu'il eût un pari, Smiley était satisfait. Et il avait une chance! une chance inouie: presque toujours
il gagnait. Il faut dire qu'il était toujours prêt à s' exposer, qu' on ne pouvait mentionner la moindre
chose sans que ce gaillard offrît de parier là-dessus n'importe quoi et de prendre le côté que l'on
voudrait, comme je vous le disais tout à l'heure. S'il y avait des courses, vous le trouviez riche ou
ruiné à la fin; s'il y avait un combat de chiens, il apportait son enjeu; il l'apportait pour un combat
de chats, pour un combat de coqs;—parbleu! si vous aviez vu deux oiseaux sur une haie, il vous
aurait offert de parier lequel s'envolerait le premier, et, s'il y avait meeting au camp, il venait parier
régulièrement pour le curé Walker, qu'il jugeait être le meilleur prédicateur des environs, et qui
l'était en effet, et un brave homme. Il aurait rencontré une punaise de bois en chemin, qu'il aurait
parié sur le temps qu'il lui faudrait pour aller où elle voudrait aller, et, si vous l'aviez pris au mot, il
aurait suivi la punaise jusqu'au Mexique, sans se soucier d'aller si loin, ni du temps qu'il y perdrait.
Une fois la femme du curé Walker fut très malade pendant longtemps, il semblait qu'on ne la
sauverait pas; mais un matin le curé arrive, et Smiley lui demande comment elle va, et il dit qu'elle
est bien mieux, grâce à l'infinie miséricorde, tellement mieux qu'avec la bénédiction de la Providence
elle s'en tirerait, et voilà que, sans y penser, Smiley répond:—Eh bien! je gage deux et
demi qu'elle mourra tout de même.
“Ce Smiley avait une jument que les gars appelaient le bidet du quart d'heure, mais seulement
pour plaisanter, vous comprenez, parce que, bien entendu, elle était plus vite que ça! Et il avait
coutume de gagner de l'argent avec cette bête, quoiqu'elle fût poussive, cornarde, toujours prise
d'asthme, de coliques ou de consomption, ou de quelque chose d'approchant. On lui donnait 2 ou
300 yards au départ, puis on la dépassait sans peine; mais jamais à la fin elle ne manquait de
s'échauffer, de s'exaspérer, et elle arrivait, s'écartant, se défendant, ses jambes grêles en l'air devant
les obstacles, quelquefois les évitant et faisant avec cela plus de poussière qu'aucun cheval, plus de
bruit surtout avec ses éternumens et reniflemens,—crac! elle arrivait donc toujours première d'une
tête, aussi juste qu'on peut le mesurer. Et il avait un petit bouledogue qui, à le voir, ne valait pas
un sou; ou aurait cru que parier contre lui c'était voler, tant il était ordinaire; mais aussitôt les
enjeux faits, il devenait un autre chien. Sa mâchoire inférieure commençait à ressortir comme un
gaillard d'avant, ses dents se découvraient brillantes comme des fournaises, et un chien pouvait le
taquiner, l'exciter, le mordre, le jeter deux ou trois fois par-dessus son épaule, André Jackson, c'était
le nom du chien, André Jackson prenait cela tranquillement, comme s'il ne se fût jamais attendu à
autre chose, et quand les paris étaient doublés et redoublés contre lui, il vous saisissait l'autre chien
juste à l'articulation de la jambe de derrière, et il ne la lâchait plus, non pas qu'il la mâchât, vous
concevez, mais il s'y serait tenu pendu jusqu'à ce qu'on jetât l'éponge en l'air, fallût-il attendre un
chien qui n'avait pas de pattes de derrière, parce qu'on les avait sciées, et quand les choses furent
au point qu'il voulait, et qu'il en vint à se jeter sur son morceau favori, le pauvre chien comprit en
un instant qu'on s'était moqué de lui, et que l'autre le tenait. Vous n'avez jamais vu personne
avoir l'air plus penaud et plus découragé; il ne fit aucun effort pour gagner le combat et
fut rudement secoué, de sorte que, regardant Smiley comme pour lui dire:—Mon cœur est
brisé, c'est ta faute; pourquoi m'avoir livré à un chien qui n'a pas de pattes de derriére, puisque
c'est par là que je les bats?—il s'en alla en clopinant, et se coucha pour mourir. Ah! c'était un
bon chien, cet André Jackson, et il se serait fait un nom, s'il avait vécu, car il y avait de l'etoffe en
lui, il avait du génie, je le sais, bien que de grandes occasions lui aient manqué; mais il est impossible
de supposer qu'un chien capable de se battre comme lui, certaines circonstances étant données,
ait manqué de talent. Je me sens triste toutes les fois que je pense à son dernier combat et au
dénoûment qu'il a eu. Eh bien! ce Smiley nourrissait des terriers à rats; et des coqs de combat, et
des chats, et toute sorte de choses, au point qu'il était toujours en mesure de vous tenir tête, et qu'avec
sa rage de paris on n'avait plus de repos. Il attrapa un jour une grenouille et l'emporta chez
lui, disant qu'il prétendait faire son éducation; vous me croirez si vous voulez, mais pendant trois
mois il n'a rien fait que lui apprendre à sauter dans une cour retirée de sa maison. Et je vous
réponds qu'il avait réussi. Il lui donnait un petit coup par derrière, et l'instant d'après vous
voyiez la grenouille tourner en l'air comme un beignet au-dessus de la poêle, faire une culbute,
quelquefois deux, lorsqu'elle était bein partie, et retomber sur ses pattes comme un chat. Il l'avait
dressée dans l'art de gober des mouches, et l'y exercait continuellement, si bien qu'une mouche, du
plus loin qu'elle apparaissait, était une mouche perdue. Smiley avait coutume de dire que tout ce
qui manquait à une grenouille, c'était l'éducation, qu'avec l'éducation elle pouvait faire presque
tout, et je le crois. Tenez, je l'ai vu poser Daniel Webster là sur ce plancher,—Daniel Webster
était le nom de la grenouille,—et lui chanter:—Des mouches! Daniel, des mouches!—En un clin
d'œil, Daniel avait bondi et saisi une mouche ici sur le comptoir, puis sauté de nouveau par terre, où
il restait vraiment à se gratter la tête avec sa patte de derrière, comme s'il n'avait pas eu la
moindre idée de sa supériorité. Jamais vous n'avez grenouille vu de aussi modeste, aussi naturelle,
douée comme elle l'était! Et quand il s'agissait de sauter purement et simplement sur terrain
plat, elle faisait plus de chemin en un saut qu'aucune bête de son espèce que vous puissiez connaître.
Sauter à plat, c'était son fort! Quand il s'agissait de cela, Smiley entassait les enjeux
sur elle tant qu'il lui, restait un rouge liard. Il faut le reconnaître, Smiley était monstrueusement
fier de sa grenouille, et il en avait le droit, car des gens qui avaient voyagé, qui avaient tout vu,
disaient qu'on lui ferait injure de la comparer à une autre; de façon que Smiley gardait Daniel
dans une petite boîte à claire-voie qu'il emporta it parfois à la ville pour quelque pari.
“Un jour, un individu étranger au camp l'arrête avec sa boíte et lui dit:—Qu'est-ce que vous
avez donc serré là dedans?
“Smiley dit d'un air indifférent:—Cela puorrait être un perroquet ou un serin, mais ce u'est rien
de pareil, ce n'est qu'une grenouille.
“L'individu la prend, la regarde avec soin, la tourne d'un côté et de l'autre puss il dit.—Tiens!
en effet! A quoi est-elle bonne?
“—Mon Dieu! répond Smiley, toujours d'un air dégagé, elle est bonne pour une chose à mon
avis, elle peut battre en sautant toute grenouille du comté de Calaveras.
“L'individu reprend la boîte, l'examine de uouveau longuement, et la rend à Smiley en disant
d'un air délibéré:—Eh bien! je ne vois pas que cette grenouille ait rien de mieux qu'aucune
grenouille.
“—Possible que vous ne le voyiez pas, dit Smiley, possible que vous vous entendiez en greouilles,
possible que vous ne vous y entendez point, possible que vous ayez de l'expérience, et possible
que vous ne soyez qu'un amateur. De toute manière, je parie quarante dollars qu'elle battra
en sautant n'importe quelle grenouille du comté de Calaveras.
“L'individu réfléchit une seconde et dit comme attristé:—Je ne suis qu'un étranger ici, je n'ai
pas de grenouille; mais, si j'en avais une, je tiendrais le pari.
“—Fort bien! répond Smiley. Rien de plus facile. Si vous voulez tenir ma boîte une minute,
j'iral vous chercher une grenouille.—Voilà donc l'individu qui garde la boíte, qui met ses quarante
dollars sur ceux de Smiley et qui attend. Il attend assez longtemps, réfléchissant tout seul, et
figurez-vous qu'il prend Daniel, lui ouvre la bouche de force et avec une cuiller à thé l'emplit de
menu plomb de chasse, mais l'emplit jusqu'au menton, puis il le pose par terre. Smiley pendant
ce temps était à barboter dans une mare. Finalement il attrape une grenouille, l'apporte à cet
individu et dit:—Maintenant, si vous êtes prêt, mettez-la tout contre Daniel, avec leurs pattes de
devant sur la même ligne, et je donnerai le signal;—puis il ajoute:—Un, deux, trois, sautez!
“Lui et l'individu touchent leurs grenouilles par derrière, et la grenouille neuve se met à sautiller,
mais Daniel se soulève lourdement, hausse les épaules ainsi, comme un Français; à quoi bon? il ne
pouvait bouger, il était planté solide comme une enclume, il n'avançait pas puls que si on l'eût mis
à l'ancre. Smiley fut surpris et dégoûté, mais il ne se doutait pas du tour, bien entendu. L'individu
empoche l'argent, s'en va, et en s'en allant est-ce qu'il ne donne pas un coup de pouce par-dessus
lé'paule, comme ça, au pauvre Daniel, en disant de son air délibéré:—Eh bien! je ne vois pas que
cette grenouille ait rien de mieux qu'une autre.
“Smiley se gratta longtemps la tête, les yeux fixés sur Daniel, jusqu'à ce qu'enfin il dit;—Je me
demande comment diable il se fait que cette bête ait refusé... Est-ce qu'elle aurait quelque chose?..
On croirait qu'elle est enflée.
“Il empoigne Daniel par la peau du cou, le soulève et dit:—Le loup me croque, s'il ne pèse pas
cinq livres.
“Il le retourne, et le malheureux crache deux poignées de plomb. Quand Smiley reconnut ce
individu, mais il ne le rattrapa jamais, et...
[Translation of the above back from the French].
THE FROG JUMPING OF THE COUNTY OF CALAVERAS.
It there was one time here an individual known under the name of Jim Smiley:
it was in the winter of '49, possibly well at the spring of '50, I no me recollect not
exactly. This which me makes to believe that it was the one or the other, it is that
I shall remember that the grand flume is not achieved when he arrives at the camp
for the first time, but of all sides he was the man the most fond of to bet which one
have seen, betting upon all that which is presented, when he could find an adversary;
and when he not of it could not, he passed to the side opposed. All that which
convenienced to the the other, to him convenienced also; seeing that he had a bet,
Smiley was satisfied. And he had a chance! a chance even worthless: nearly
always he gained. It must to say that he was always near to himself expose, but
one no could mention the least thing without that this gaillard offered to bet the
bottom, no matter what, and to take the side that one him would, as I you it said
all at the hour (tout à l'heure). If it there was of races, you him find rich or ruined
at the end; if it there is a combat of dogs, he bring his bet; he himself laid always
for a combat of cats, for a combat of cocks;—by-blue! if you have see two birds
upon a fence, he you should have offered of to bet which of those birds shall fly the
first; and if there is meeting at the camp (meeting au camp) he comes to bet regularly
for the curé Walker, which he judged to be the best predicator of the neighborhood
(prédicateur des environs) and which he was in effect, and a brave man.
He would encounter a bug of wood in the road, whom he will bet upon the time
which he shall take to go where she would go—and if you him have take at the
word, he will follow the bug as far as Mexique, without himself caring to go so far;
neither of the time which he there lost. One time the woman of the curé
Walker is very sick during long time, it seemed that one not her saved not; but
one morning the curé arrives, and Smiley him demanded how she goes, and he said
that she is well better, grace to the infinite misery (lui demande comment elle va,
et il dit qu'elle est bien mieux, grâce à l'infinie misèricorde) so much better that
tirerait); and behold that without there thinking Smiley responds: “Well, I gage
two-and-half that she will die all of same.”
This Smiley had an animal which the boys called the nag of the quarter of hour,
but solely for pleasantry, you comprehend, because, well understand, she was more
fast as that! [Now why that exclamation?—M. T.] And it was custom of to gain
of the silver with this beast, notwithstanding she was poussive, cornarde, always
taken of asthma, of colics or of consumption, or something of approaching. One
him would give two or three hundred yards at the departure, then one him passed
without pain; but never at the last she not fail of herself èchauffer, of herself
exasperate, and she arrives herself écartant, se dèfendant, her legs grêles in the air
before the obstacles, sometimes them elevating and making with this more of dust
than any horse, more of noise above with his éternumens and reniflemens—crac!
she arrives then always first by one head, as just as one can it measure. And he
had a small bull dog (boule dogue!) who, to him see, no value, not a cent; one
would believe that to bet against him it was to steal, so much he was ordinary; but
as soon as the game made, she becomes another dog. Her jaw inferior commence
to project like a deck of before, his teeth themselves discover brilliant like some
furnaces, and a dog could him tackle (le taquiner), him excite, him murder (le
mordre), him throw two or three times over his shoulder, André Jackson—this was
the name of the dog—André Jackson takes that tranquilly, as if he not himself
was never expecting other thing, and when the bets were doubled and redoubled
against him, he you sieze the other dog just at the articulation of the leg of behind,
and he not it leave more, not that he it masticate, you conceive, but he himself
there shall be holding during until that one throws the sponge in the air, must he
wait a year. Smiley gained always with this beast-là; unhappily they have finished
by elevating a dog who no had not of feet of behind, because one them had sawed;
and when things were at the point that he would, and that he came to himself throw
upon his morsel favorite, the poor dog comprehended in an instant that he himself
was deccived in him, and that the other dog him had. You no have never see
person having the air more penaud and more discouraged; he not made no effort
to gain the combat, and was rudely shucked.
Eh bien! this Smiley nourished some terriers á rats, and some cocks of combat,
and some cats, and all sort of things; and with his rage of betting one no had more
of repose. He trapped one day a frog and him imported with him (et l'emporta
chez lui) saying that he pretended to make his education. You me believe if you
will, but during three months he not has nothing done but to him apprehend to
jump (apprendre ă sauter) in a court retired of her mansion (de sa maison). And
I you respond that he have succeeded. He him gives a small blow by behind, and
the instant after you shall see the frog turn in the air like a grease-biscuit, make
one summersault, sometimes two, when she was well started, and re-fall upon his
feet like a cat. He him had accomplished in the art of to gobble the flies (gober
des mouches), and him there exercised continually—so well that a fly at the most
far that she appeared was a fly lost. Smiley had custom to say that all which
lacked to a frog it was the education, but with the education she could do nearly
all—and I him believe. Tenez, I him have seen pose Daniel Webster there upon
this plank—Daniel Webster was the name of the frog—and to him sing, “Some
flies, Daniel, some flies!”—in a flash of the eye Daniel had bounded and seized a
fly here upon the counter, then jumped anew at the earth, where he rested truly to
himself scratch the head with his behind-foot, as if he no had not the least idea of
his superiority. Never you not have seen frog as modest, as natural, sweet as she
was. And when he himself agitated to jump purely and simply upon plain earth,
she does more ground in one jump than any beast of his species than you can know.
To jump plain—this was his strong. When he himself agitated for that, Smiley
multiplied the bets upon her as long as there to him remained a red. It must to
know, Smiley was monstrously proud of his frog, and he of it was right, for some
men who were traveled, who had all seen, said that they to him would be injurious
to him compare to another frog. Smiley guarded Daniel in a little box latticed
which he carried bytimes to the village for some bet.
One day an individual stranger at the camp him arrested with his box and him
said:
“What is this that you have then shut up there within?”
Smiley said, with an air indifferent:
“That could be a paroquet, or a syringe (ou un serin), but this no is nothing of
such, it not is but a frog.”
The individual it took, it regarded with care, it turned from one side and from
the other, then he said:
“Tiens! in effect!—At what is she good?”
“My God!” respond Smiley, always with an air disengaged, “she is good for
one thing, to my notice, (à mon avis), she can batter in jumping (elle peut batter
en sautant) all frogs of the county of Calaveras.”
The individual re-took the box, it examined of new longly, and it rendered to
Smiley in saying with an air deliberate:
“Eh bien! I no saw not that that frog had nothing of better than each frog.”
(Je ne vois pas que cette grenouille ait rien de mieux qu'aucune grenouille). [If
that isn't grammar gone to seed, then I count myself no judge.—M. T.]
“Possible that you not it saw not,” said Smiley, “possible that you—you comprehend
frogs; possible that you not you there comprehend nothing; possible that
you had of the experience, and possible that you not be but an amateur. Of all
manner, (De toute manière) I bet forty dollars that she batter in jumping no matter
which frog of the county of Calaveras.”
The individual reflected a second, and said like sad:
“I not am but a stranger here, I no have not a frog; but if I of it had one, I
would embrace the bet.”
“Strong well!” respond Smiley; “nothing of more facility. If you will hold my
box a minute, I go you to search a frog (j' irai vous chercher).”
Behold, then, the individual, who guards the box, who puts his forty dollars upon
those of Smiley, and who attends, (et qui attend). He attended enough longtimes,
reflecting all solely. And figure you that he takes Daniel, him opens the mouth by
force and with a tea-spoon him fills with shot of the hunt, even him fills just to the
chin, then he him puts by the earth. Smiley during these times was at slopping in
a swamp. Finally he trapped (attrape) a frog, him carried to that individual, and
said:
“Now if you be ready, put him all against Daniel, with their before-feet upon the
same line, and I give the signal”—then he added: “One, two, three,—advance!”
Him and the individual touched their frogs by behind, and the frog new put to
jump smartly, but Daniel himself lifted ponderously, exalted the shoulders thus,
church, he not advance no more than if one him had put at the anchor.
Smiley was surprised and disgusted, but he not himself doubted not of the turn
being intended (mais il ne se doutait pas du tour, bien entendu). The individual
empocketed the silver, himself with it went, and of it himself in going is it that he
no gives not a jerk of thumb over the shoulder—like that—at the poor Daniel, in
saying with his air deliberate—(L' individu empoche l'argent, s'en va et en s'en
allant est ce qu'il ne donne pas un coup de pouce par-dessus l'épaule, comme ca,
au pauvre Daniel, endisant de son air délibéré):
“Eh bien! I no see not that that frog has nothing of better than another.”
Smiley himself scratched longtimes the head, the eyes fixed upon Daniel, until
that which at last he said:
“I me demand how the devil it makes itself that this beast has refused. Is it
that she had something? One would believe that she is stuffed.”
He grasped Daniel by the skin of the neck, him lifted and said:
“The wolf me bite if he no weigh not five pounds.”
He him reversed and the unhappy belched two handfuls of shot (et le malhereus,
etc).—When Smiley recognized how it was, he was like mad. He deposited
his frog by the earth and ran after that individual, but he not him caught never.
Such is the Jumping Frog, to the distorted French eye. I claim that I never put
together such an odious mixture of bad grammar and delirium tremens in my life.
And what has a poor foreigner like me done, to be abused and misrepresented like
this? When I say, “Well, I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n
any other frog,” is it kind, is it just, for this Frenchman to try to make it appear
that I said, “Eh bien! I no saw not that that frog had nothing of better than each
frog?” I have no heart to write more. I never felt so about anything before.
Hartford, March, 1875.
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