The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1906-10-20
THE cAHvAssER's TALE.
BY MARK TWAIN.


was that about his mien, his tired
look, his decayed-gentility clothes
that almost reached the mustard seed
of charity that still remained, remote
and lonely, in the empty vastness of
my heart, Notwithstanding I observed
a portfolio under his arm, and said to
myself, behold, Providence hath de-
livered His servant into the hands of
another canvasser.
Well, these people always get one
interested. Before I well knew how
it came about this one was telling me
his history, and I was all attention
and sympathy. He toldit something
like this:
"My parents died, alas, when I
was little, sinless child. Ny uncle
Ithuriel took me to his heart and
reared me as his own. He was my
only relative in the wide world but
he was good and rich and generous.
He reared me in the lap of luxury.
I knew no want that money could
satisfy.
"In the fullness of time was grad
uated, and went with two of my SER
vants-my chamberlain and my valet
to travel in foreign countries. Dur
ing four years I fitted upon careless
wing amid the beauteous gardens of
the distant strand, if you will permit
this form of speech in one whose
tongue was ever attuned to poesy;
and indeed 1 so speak with confidence,
as one unto his kind, for I perceive
by your eyes that you too, sir, are
gifted with the divine imitation. In
those far lands I reveled in the am
brosia1 food that fructi6es the soul,
the mind, the heart. But of all
things that which most appealed to
my inborn aesthetic taste was the pre-
vailing custom there, among the rich,
of making collections of elegant and
costly rarities, dainty objects de vertu,
and in an evil hour I tried to uplift
my uncle Ithuriel to a plane of SYM
pathy with this exquisite employ
ment.
"I wrote and told him of one gen.
tleman's vast collection of shells;
another's noble collection of meer-
schaum pipes; another's elevating
and refining collecting of undecipher-
able autographs another's priceless
collection of old china another's s en-
chanting collection of postage stamps
and so forth and so on. Soon my
letters yielded fruit. My uncle began
to look about for something to make
a collection of. You may know, per-
haps, how heetly taste like this di-
lates. His soon became a raging
fever, though I knew it not. He
began to neglect his great pork busi-
ness presently he wholly retired and
turned an elegant leisure into rapid
search for curious things. His wealth
was vast, and he spared it not. First
he tried cow bells. He made col
lection which filled five large salons,
and comprehended all the different
sorts of cow-bells that ever had been
contrived, save one. That one-an
antique and the only specimen ex-
tant-was possessed by another COL
lector. Ny uncle offered enormous
sums for it, but the gentleman would
not sell. Doubtless you know what
necessarily resulted. A true collec-
tor attaches no value to a collection
that is not complete. His great heart
breaks, he sells his hoard, he turns
his mind to some field that seems un-
occupied.
"Thus did my uncle. He next
tried brickbats. After piling up a
vast and intensely interesting collec-
ton, the former difficulty supervened !;
his great heart broke again; he sold
out his soul S idol to the retired brewer
who possessed the missing brick.
Then he tried flint hatchets and other
implements of Primeval Man, but by
and by discovered that the factory
where they were made was supplying
other collectors as well as himself.
He tried Aztec inscriptions and stuffed
whales-another failure, after incredi-
bic labor and expense. When his
collection seemed at last perfect, a
stuffed whale arrived from Greenland
and an Aztec inscription from the
Cundurango regions of Central Amer
ica that made all former specimens
insignificant. Ny uncle fastened to
secure these noble gems. He got the
stuffed whale, but another collector
got the inscription. A real Cundu-
range, as possibly you know, is a
possession of such supreme value that,
when once collector gets. it he will
rather part with his family than with
it. So my uncle sold out and saw his
darling go forth, never more to re-
turn; and his coal-black hair turned
white as snow in single night.
''Now he waited and thought. He
knew another disappointment might
kill him. He was resolved that he
would choose things next time that
no other man was collecting. He
carefully made up his mind, and once
more entered the field-this time tc