conclusion, takes the measure of the ethical nature of the man. It can
best be illustrated, I think, by a comparison of his anecdote of the
theft of the green water-melon and the classic fable of 'The Man that
Corrupted Hadleyburg'. Mark stole a water-melon out of a farmer's
wagon, while he wasn't looking. Of course stole was too harsh a term
--he withdrew, he retired that water-melon. After getting safely away to
a secluded spot, he broke the water-melon open--only to find that it was
green, the greenest water-melon of the year.

The moment he saw that the water-melon was green, he felt sorry. He
began to reflect--for reflection is the beginning of reform. It is only
by reflecting on some crime you have committed, that you are
"vaccinated" against committing it again.

So Mark began to reflect. And his reflections were of this nature: What
ought a boy to do who has stolen a green water-melon? What would George
Washington, who never told a lie, have done? He decided that the only
real, right thing for any boy to do, who has stolen a water-melon of
that class, is to make restitution. It is his duty to restore it to its
rightful owner. So rising up, spiritually strengthened and refreshed by
his noble resolution, Mark restored the water--melon--what there was
left of it--to the farmer and--made the farmer give him a ripe one in
its place! Thus he clinched the "moral" of this story, so quaint and so
ingenious; and concluded that only in some such way as this could one be
fortified against further commission of crime. Only thus could one
become morally perfect!

Here, as in countless other places, Mark Twain throws over his ethical
suggestion--a suggestion, by contrast, of the very converse of his
literal words--the veil of paradox and exaggeration, of incongruity,