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Penski
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PostSubject: Favorite Story or Tale   Fri Dec 05, 2014 1:02 pm

So what story or fairy tale can you see the Kid loving?  What story or fairy tale can you see Heyes loving?  scratch

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sistergrace

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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Fri Dec 05, 2014 1:27 pm

Fun questions Penski!

Heyes - I'm going with, The Prince and the Pauper by none other than Heyes' favorite--Mark Twain. I can see Heyes thinking of himself as the poor boy who really ought to be a prince.

Kid - Peter Pan. It may have been written a tad to recently for the Kid to have enjoyed it, but I can see him really getting into the idea of never growing up, and living a carefree life with the other "lost boys" at Devil's Hole. Also, Kid Curry would make a wonderful pirate! :pirate:

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Calico

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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Fri Dec 05, 2014 3:45 pm

Good thought on the Prince and Pauper, Sister G - HH does have an 'entitled' feel at times


I like to think HH had a soft spot for the Three Musketeers when a boy... All that buckling of swashes

Ali Baba and the forty thieves - all that treasure?

Ditto - Aladdin

Ditto - Robin Hood



And I have had little Han smitten with Moby Dick


Wasn't Last of the Moheicans massively popular when Heyes and Curry would have been youngsters??

What about the Legend of Sleepy Hollow - wouldn't little boys have loved to scare each other with that??
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ty pender

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PostSubject: favorite tales   Fri Dec 05, 2014 5:53 pm

Circa 1880

Heyes: Mark Twain 'Adventures of Tom Sawyer'

Kid: Arbuckle cartoons, eg:






If these 'fictional' characters lived contemporary with the show:

Kid : Playboy

Heyes: Jack Kerouac 'Lonesome Traveler'
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PostSubject: Mark Twain 'Story of the Bad Little Boy'   Fri Dec 05, 2014 7:24 pm

Mark Twain 'Story of the Bad Little Boy'
...as suggested by beejay: Note from BeeJay: Enlarge this picture to read the start of the story.
I think both boys would have loved this story, and I picture Heyes reading it to the Kid repeatedly!





who teach them to say, "Now, I lay me down," etc., and sing them to sleep with sweet, plaintive voices, and then kiss them good-night, and kneel down by the bedside and weep. But it was different with this fellow. He was named Jim, and there wasn't anything the matter with his mother -- no consumption, nor anything of that kind. She was rather stout than otherwise, and she was not pious; moreover, she was not anxious on Jim's account. She said if he were to break his neck it wouldn't be much loss. She always spanked Jim to sleep, and she never kissed him good-night; on the contrary, she boxed his ears when she was ready to leave him.

Once this little bad boy stole the key of the pantry, and slipped in there and helped himself to some jam, and filled up the vessel with tar so that his mother would never know the difference; but all at once a terrible feeling didn't come over him, and something didn't seem to whisper to him, "Is it right to disobey my mother? Isn't in sinful to do this? Where do bad little boys go who gobble up their good kind mother's jam?" and then he didn't kneel down all alone and promise never to be wicked any more, and rise up with a light, happy heart, and go and tell his mother all about it and beg her forgiveness, and be blessed by her with tears of pride and thankfulness in her eyes. No; that is the way with all other bad boys in the books; but it happened otherwise with this Jim, strangely enough. He ate that jam, and said it was bully, in his sinful, vulgar way; and he put in the tar, and said that was bully also, and laughed, and observed "that the old woman would get up and snort" when she found it out; and when she did find it out, he denied knowing anything about it, and she whipped him severely, and he did the crying himself. Everything about this boy was curious -- everything turned out differently with him from the way it does to the bad Jameses in the books.

Once he climbed up in Farmer Acorn's apple-tree to steal apples, and the limb didn't break, and he didn't fall and break his arm, and get torn by the farmer's great dog, and then languish on a sick bed for weeks, and repent and become good. Oh! no; he stole as many apples as he wanted and came down all right; and he was all ready for the dog too, and knocked him endways with a brick when he came to tear him. It was very strange -- nothing like it ever happened in those mild little books with marbled backs, and with pictures in them of men with swallow-tailed coats and bell-crowned hats, and pantaloons that are short in the legs, and women with the waists of their dresses under their arms, and no hoops on. Nothing like it in any of the Sunday-school books.

Once he stole the teacher's pen-knife, and, when he was afraid it would be found out and he would get whipped, he slipped it into George Wilson's cap -- poor Widow Wilson's son, the moral boy, the good little boy of the village, who always obeyed his mother, and never told an untruth, and was fond of his lessons, and infatuated with Sunday-school. And when the knife dropped from the cap, and poor George hung his head and blushed, as if in conscious guilt, and the grieved teacher charged the theft upon him, and was just in the very act of bringing the switch down upon his trembling shoulders, a white-haired, improbable justice of the peace did not suddenly appear in their midst, and strike an attitude and say, "Spare this noble boy -- there stands the cowering culprit! I was passing the school-door at recess, and unseen myself, I saw the theft committed!" And then Jim didn't get whaled, and the venerable justice didn't read the tearful school a homily, and take George by the hand and say such a boy deserved to be exalted, and then tell him to come and make his home with him, and sweep out the office, and make fires, and run errands, and chop wood, and study law, and help his wife do household labors, and have all the balance of the time to play, and get forty cents a month, and be happy. No; it would have happened that way in the books, but it didn't happen that way to Jim. No meddling old clam of a justice dropped in to make trouble, and so the model boy George got thrashed, and Jim was glad of it. Because, you know, Jim hated moral boys. Jim said he was "down on them milksops." Such was the coarse language of this bad, neglected boy.

But the strangest thing that ever happened to Jim was the time he went boating on Sunday, and didn't get drowned, and that other time that he got caught out in the storm when he was fishing on Sunday, and didn't get struck by lightning. Why, you might look, and look, and look, all through the Sunday-school books from now till next Christmas, and you would never come across anything like this. Oh no; you would find that all the bad boys who go boating on Sunday invariably get drowned, and all the bad boys who get caught out in storms, when they are fishing on Sunday, infallibly get struck by lightning. Boats with bad boys in them are always upset on Sunday, and it always storms when bad boys go fishing on the Sabbath. How this Jim ever escaped is a mystery to me.

This Jim bore a charmed life -- that must have been the way of it. Nothing could hurt him. He even gave the elephant in the menagerie a plug of tobacco, and the elephant didn't knock the top of his head off with his trunk. He browsed around the cupboard after essence of peppermint, and didn't make a mistake and drink aqua fortis. He stole his father's gun and went hunting on the Sabbath, and didn't shoot three or four of his fingers off. He struck his little sister on the temple with his fist when he was angry, and she didn't linger in pain through long summer days, and die with sweet words of forgiveness upon her lips that redoubled the anguish of his breaking heart. No; she got over it. He ran off and went to sea at last, and didn't come back and find himself sad and alone in the world, his loved ones sleeping in the quiet church-yard, and the vine-embowered home of his boyhood tumbled down and gone to decay. Ah! no; he came home as drunk as a piper, and got into the station-house the first thing.

And he grew up, and married, and raised a large family, and brained them all with an axe one night, and got wealthy by all manner of cheating and rascality; and now he is the infernalest wickedest scoundrel in his native village, and is universally respected, and belongs to the Legislature.

So you see there never was a bad James in the Sunday-school books that had such a streak of luck as this sinful Jim with the charmed life.




[This story was originally published in the Californian magazine, in 1865, as "The Story of the Bad Little Boy That Led a Charmed Life." The text here is from MT's republication of it in Sketches New & Old (1875), and includes the illustrations drawn by True Williams for that volume.]
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BeeJay
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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Fri Dec 05, 2014 8:22 pm

Ty, 

You beat me to the post! But, thanks for finding such a great copy of that story. The pictures are wonderful.

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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Fri Dec 05, 2014 8:28 pm

Calico, all of Cooper's works were massively popular. However, I think they are difficult to read-- and I'm a fan of them! I'm not sure if the boys would work their way through them.
Sir Walter Scott was also extremely popular; Ivanhoe, Waverly etc. Lots of adventure stories there. But, again, a lot of dense material to read through.

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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Sat Dec 06, 2014 7:54 am

I could see Heyes being a Jules Verne fan--lots of imaginative inventions and concepts so I'm going to say Journey to the Center of the Earth for Heyes.

I see the Kid as more escapist so maybe Typee by Herman Melville. Polynesian adventures amongst the cannibals.

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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Sun Dec 07, 2014 6:07 pm

I've always thought that Heyes, the dark one in more ways than one, would love Hamlet. And of course, more Shakespeare, the story of the thief turned King in Henry IV and Henry V would seem to be very appealing. And there is plenty of action in those plays, as well. Shakespeare was a virtual American national obsession in the 19th century, especially Hamlet. Political cartoons from the 1860s, 70s, and 80s (I am thinking Thomas Nast in particular) often make reference to the plays, which is a good indication that everyone was assumed to know the texts and characters.
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PostSubject: Re: Favorite Story or Tale   Wed Dec 17, 2014 1:04 pm

Coming a little late to this discussion . . . I kind of think Heyes might also be reading the dime novels written about him and Kid Curry. Heyes does have an ego, and I suspect he'd get a kick out of knowing he was famous. He'd probably also be amused by the inaccuracies.

As for novels, remember that Anthony Trollope was very popular in the 19th century, so Heyes would probably be reading the bestsellers of his day. And Charles Dickens as well.

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