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A monologue from the book by Mark Twain

NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Tragedy of Pudd’nhead Wilson And The Comedy Of Those Extraordinary Twins. Mark Twain. Hartford: American Publishing Co., 1894.


Dad fetch dat duel, I be’n in it myself. Happened dis-away. I ‘uz a-sett’n’ here kinder dozin’ in de dark, en “che-bang!” goes a gun, right out dah. I skips along out towards t’other end o’ de house to see what’s gwine on,

en stops by de ole winder on de side towards Pudd’nhead Wilson’s house dat ain’t got no sash in it–but dey ain’t none of ’em got any sashes, for as dat’s concerned–en I stood dah in de dark en look out,

en dar in the moonlight, right down under me ‘uz one o’ de twins a-cussin’–not much, but jist a-cussin’ soft–it ‘uz de brown one dat ‘uz cussin,’ ‘ca’se he ‘uz hit in de shoulder.

En Doctor Claypool he ‘uz a-workin’ at him, en Pudd’nhead Wilson he ‘uz a-he’pin’, en ole Jedge Driscoll en Pem Howard ‘uz a-standin’ out yonder a little piece waitin’ for ’em to get ready agin.

En treckly dey squared off en give de word, en “bang-bang” went de pistols, en de twin he say, “Ouch!”–hit him on de han’ dis time–en I hear dat same bullet go “spat!” ag’in de logs under de winder;

en de nex’ time dey shoot, de twin say, “Ouch!” ag’in, en I done it too, ‘ca’se de bullet glance’ on his cheekbone en skip up here en glance’ on de side o’ de winder en whiz right acrost my face en tuck de hide off’n my nose–why,

if I’d ‘a’; be’n jist a inch or a inch en a half furder ‘t would ‘a’ tuck de whole nose en disfiggered me. Here’s de bullet; I hunted her up.

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