oing nothing to me. I allowed if the paynim was
satisfied I was, and we would let it stand at that.

Now Tom he got all that notion out of Walter Scott's book, which he was
always reading. And it WAS a wild notion, because in my opinion he never
could've raised the men, and if he did, as like as not he would've got
licked. I took the book and read all about it, and as near as I could
make it out, most of the folks that shook farming to go crusading had a
mighty rocky time of it.

CHAPTER II. THE BALLOON ASCENSION

WELL, Tom got up one thing after another, but they all had tender spots
about 'em somewheres, and he had to shove 'em aside. So at last he was
about in despair. Then the St. Louis papers begun to talk a good deal
about the balloon that was going to sail to Europe, and Tom sort of
thought he wanted to go down and see what it looked like, but couldn't
make up his mind. But the papers went on talking, and so he allowed
that maybe if he didn't go he mightn't ever have another chance to see
a balloon; and next, he found out that Nat Parsons was going down to see
it, and that decided him, of course. He wasn't going to have Nat Parsons
coming back bragging about seeing the balloon, and him having to listen
to it and keep quiet. So he wanted me and Jim to go too, and we went.

It was a noble big balloon, and had wings and fans and all sorts of
things, and wasn't like any balloon you see in pictures. It was away out
toward the edge of town, in a vacant lot, corner of Twelfth street; and
there was a big crowd around it, making fun of it, and making fun of the
man,--a lean pale feller with that soft kind of moonlight in his eyes,
you know,--and they kept saying it wouldn't go. It made him hot to hear
them, and he would turn on them and shake his fist and say they was
animals and blind, but some day they would find they had stood face to
face with one of the men that lifts up nations and makes civilizations,
and was too dull to know it; and right here on this spot their own
children and grandchildren would build a monument to him that would
outlast a thousand years, but his name would outlast the monument. And
then the crowd would burst out in a laugh again, and yell at him, and
ask him what was his name before he was married, and what he would take
to not do it, and what was his sister's cat's grandmother's name, and
all the things that a crowd says when they've got hold of a feller that
they see they can plague.