Free The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature) by Mark Twain

their grandest and sublimest-we
were secretly ashamed, for his manner showed that to him they and
their doings were of paltry poor consequence; often you would
think he was talking about flies, if you didn't know. Once he even
said, in so many words, that our people down here were quite
interesting to him, notwithstanding they were so dull and ignorant
and trivial and conceited, and so diseased and rickety, and such a
shabby poor worthless lot all around. He said it in a quite matterof-course way and without any bitterness, just as a person might
talk about bricks or manure or any other thing that was of no
consequence and hadn't feelings. I could see he meant no offence,
but in my thoughts I set it down as not very good manners.

    "Manners!" he said, "why it is merely the truth, and truth is
good manners; manners are a fiction. The castle is done! Do you
like it?"
    Any one would have been obliged to like it. It was lovely to look
at, it was so shapely and fine, and so cunningly perfect in all its
particulars, even to the little flags waving from the turrets. Satan
said we must put the artillery in place, now, and station the halberdiers and deploy the cavalry. Our men and horses were a spectacle
to see, they were so little like what they were intended for; for of
course we had no art in making such things. Satan said they were
the worst he had seen; and when he touched them and made them
alive, it was just ridiculous the way they acted, on account of their
legs not being of uniform lengths. They reeled and sprawled
around as if they were drunk, and endangered everybody's lives
around them, and finally fell over and lay helpless and kicking. It
made us all laugh, though it was a shameful thing to see. The guns
were charged with dirt, to fire a salute; but they were so crooked
and so badly made that they all burst when they went off, and
killed some of the gunners and crippled the others. Satan said we
would have a storm, now, and an earthquake, if we liked, but we
must stand off a piece, out of danger. We wanted to call the people
away, too, but he said never mind them, they were of no consequence and we could make more, some time or other if we needed
them.
    A small storm-cloud began to settle down black over the castle, and the miniature lightning and thunder began to play and the
ground to quiver and the wind to pipe and wheeze and the rain to
fall, and all the people flocked into the castle for shelter. The cloud
settled down blacker and blacker and one could see the castle only
dimly through it; the lightnings blazed out flash upon flash and
they pierced the castle and set it on fire and the flames shone out
red and fierce through the cloud, and the people came flying out,
shrieking, but Satan brushed them back, paying no attention to our
begging and crying and imploring; and in the midst of the howling
of the wind and volleying of the thunder the magazine blew up,
the earthquake rent the ground wide and the castle's wreck and
ruin tumbled into the chasm, which swallowed it from sight and
closed upon it, with all that innocent life, not one of the five
hundred poor creatures escaping.

    Our hearts were broken, we could not keep from crying.
    "Don't cry," Satan said, "they were of no value."
    "But they are gone to hell!"
    "Oh, it is no matter, we can make more."
    It was of no use to try to move him; evidently he was wholly
without feeling, and could not understand. He was full of bubbling
spirits, and as gay as if this were a wedding instead of a fiendish
massacre. And he was bent on making us feel as he did, and of
course his magic accomplished his desire. It was no trouble to him,
he did whatever he pleased with us. In a little while we were
dancing on that grave, and he was playing to us on a strange sweet
instrument which he took out of his pocket; and the music-there
is no music like that, unless perhaps in heaven, and that was where
he brought it from, he said. It