Mark

Twain

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Huckleberry Finns Abenteuer

Übersetzt von Lore Krüger, Lizenz der Aufbau Verlagsgruppe
Synchronisation und Ergänzungen © Doppeltext 2012

TITELBLATT

CHAPTER I.
Civilizing Huck — Moses and the ‘Bulrushers’ — Miss Watson — Tom Sawyer Waits

CHAPTER II.
The Boys Escape Jim — Jim! — Tom Sawyer’s Gang — Deep-Laid Plans

CHAPTER III.
A Good Going-Over — Grace Triumphant — Playing Robbers — The Genies — ‘One of Tom Sawyer’s Lies’

CHAPTER IV.
‘Slow But Sure’ — Huck and the Judge — Superstition

CHAPTER V.
Huck’s Father — The Fond Parent — Reform

CHAPTER VI.
He Went for Judge Thatcher — Huck Decides to Leave — Thinking it Over — Political Economy — Thrashing Around

CHAPTER VII.
Laying for Him — Locked in the Cabin — Preparing To Start — Sinking the Body — Projecting A Plan — Resting

CHAPTER VIII.
Sleeping in the Woods — Raising the Dead — On the Watch! — Exploring the Island — A Profitless Sleep — Finding Jim — Jim’s Escape — Signs — ‘Dat One-Laigged Nigger’ — Balum

CHAPTER IX.
The Cave — The Floating House — A Good Haul

CHAPTER X.
The Find — Old Hank Bunker — In Disguise

CHAPTER XI.
Huck and the Woman — The Search — Prevarication — Going to Goshen — ‘They’re After Us!’

CHAPTER XII.
Slow Navigation — Borrowing Things — Boarding the Wreck — The Plotters — ‘It Ain’t Good Morals’ — Hunting for the Boat

CHAPTER XIII.
Escaping from the Wreck — The Watchman — Sinking — A Dead Sleep

CHAPTER XIV.
A General Good Time — The Harem — French

CHAPTER XV.
Huck Loses the Raft — In the Fog — Asleep On the Raft — Huck Finds the Raft — Trash

CHAPTER XVI.
Expectation — ‘Good Ole Cairo’ — A White Lie — Floating Currency — Running by Cairo — Swimming Ashore

CHAPTER XVII.
An Evening Call — The Farm in Arkansaw — Interior Decorations — Stephen Dowling Bots — Poetical Effusions — A Tin Pan Piano

CHAPTER XVIII.
Col. Grangerford — Aristocracy — Feuds — The Testament — ‘Water-Moccassins!’ — Recovering the Raft — The Wood Pile — Pork and Cabbage — ‘Is Dat You, Honey?’

CHAPTER XIX.
Tying Up Day-Times — An Astronomical Theory — ‘Dog’s A-Coming’ — Running a Temperance Revival — The Duke of Bridgewater — The Troubles of Royalty

CHAPTER XX.
Huck Explains — Laying Out a Campaign — Working the Camp Meeting — Sly Courting — A Pirate at the Camp-Meeting — The Duke as a Printer — Jim Wanted

CHAPTER XXI.
Sword Exercise — Hamlet’s Soliloquy — They Loafed Around Town — A Lazy Town — Old Boggs — Death of Boggs

CHAPTER XXII.
Sherburn — Attending the Circus — Intoxication in the Ring — The Thrilling Tragedy

CHAPTER XXIII.
Sold — Royal Comparisons — Jim Gets Homesick

CHAPTER XXIV.
Jim in Royal Robes — They Take a Passenger — Getting Information — Family Grief

CHAPTER XXV.
Is it Them? — Singing the ‘Doxolojer’ — We Can Spare It — Awful Square — Funeral Orgies — A Bad Investment

CHAPTER XXVI.
A Pious King — The King’s Clergy — She Asked His Pardon — Hiding in the Room — Huck Takes the Money

CHAPTER XXVII.
The Funeral — The Undertaker — Satisfying Curiosity — Suspicious of Huck — Quick Sales and Small Profits

CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Trip to England — ‘The Brute!’ — Royal Nonesuch — Mary Jane Decides to Leave — Huck Parting with Mary Jane — Mumps — The Opposition Line

CHAPTER XXIX.
Contested Relationship — The King Explains the Loss — A Question of Handwriting — Tattooing — Digging up the Corpse — Huck Escapes

CHAPTER XXX.
The King Went for Him — A Royal Row — Powerful Mellow

CHAPTER XXXI.
Ominous Plans — Jim Gone! — News from Jim — Old Recollections — A Sheep Story — Valuable Information — The Back Country

CHAPTER XXXII.
Still and Sunday-like — Mistaken Identity — Up a Stump — In a Dilemma

CHAPTER XXXIII.
A Nigger Stealer — Southern Hospitality — ‘You Impudent Young Rascal’ — A Pretty Long Blessing — Tar and Feathers

CHAPTER XXXIV.
The Hut by the Ash-Hopper — Outrageous — A Simple Job — Climbing the Lightning-Rod — Troubled with Witches

CHAPTER XXXV.
Escaping Properly — Dark Schemes — Discrimination in Stealing — A Deep Hole

CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Lightning-Rod — His Level Best — A Bequest to Posterity — Stealing Spoons — Amongst The Dogs — A High Figure

CHAPTER XXXVII.
The Last Shirt — Mooning Around — ‘In A Tearing Way’ — Sailing Orders — The Witch Pie

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
The Coat of Arms — A Skilled Superintendent — Unpleasant Glory — A Tearful Subject

CHAPTER XXXIX.
Rats — Lively Bedfellows — The Straw Dummy

CHAPTER XL.
Fishing — The Vigilance Committee — A Lively Run — Jim Advises a Doctor

CHAPTER XLI.
The Doctor — Uncle Silas — Sister Hotchkiss — Aunt Sally in Trouble

CHAPTER XLII.
Tom Sawyer Wounded — The Doctor’s Story — Doing Jim A Good Turn — Tom Confesses — Aunt Polly Arrives — ‘Hand Out Them Letters’

CHAPTER THE LAST.
Out of Bondage — Paying the Captive — Yours Truly, Huck Finn

IMPRESSUM

NO­TICE
Per­sons at­tempt­ing to find a motive in this nar­rat­ive will be pro­sec­uted;
per­sons at­tempt­ing to find a mor­al in it will be ban­ished; per­sons at­tempt­ing to find a plot in it will be shot.
BY OR­DER OF THE AU­THOR,
Per G.G., Chief of Ord­nance.
EX­PLAN­AT­ORY
In this book a num­ber of dia­lects are used, to wit: the Mis­souri negro dia­lect;
the ex­tremest form of the back­woods South­west­ern dia­lect; the or­din­ary “Pike County” dia­lect; and four mod­i­fied vari­et­ies of this last.
The shad­ings have not been done in a haphaz­ard fash­ion, or by guess­work; but painstak­ingly,
and with the trust­worthy guid­ance and sup­port of per­son­al fa­mili­ar­ity with these sev­er­al forms of speech.
I make this ex­plan­a­tion for the reas­on that without it many read­ers would sup­pose
that all these char­ac­ters were try­ing to talk alike and not suc­ceed­ing.
THE AU­THOR.

CHAPTER I.
Civilizing Huck — Moses and the ‘Bulrushers’ — Miss Watson — Tom Sawyer Waits

You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Ad­ven­tures of Tom Saw­yer; but that ain’t no mat­ter.
That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly.
There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is noth­ing.
I nev­er seen any­body but lied one time or an­oth­er, without it was Aunt Polly, or the wid­ow, or maybe Mary.
Aunt Polly — Tom’s Aunt Polly, she is — and Mary, and the Wid­ow Douglas is all told about in that book,
which is mostly a true book, with some stretch­ers, as I said be­fore.
Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the money that the rob­bers hid in the cave, and it made us rich.
We got six thou­sand dol­lars apiece — all gold. It was an aw­ful sight of money when it was piled up.
Well, Judge Thatch­er he took it and put it out at in­terest,
and it fetched us a dol­lar a day apiece all the year round — more than a body could tell what to do with.
The Wid­ow Douglas she took me for her son, and al­lowed she would siv­il­ize me;
but it was rough liv­ing in the house all the time, con­sid­er­ing how dis­mal reg­u­lar and de­cent the wid­ow was in all her ways;
and so when I couldn’t stand it no longer I lit out.
I got into my old rags and my sug­ar-hogshead again, and was free and sat­is­fied.
But Tom Saw­yer he hunted me up and said he was go­ing to start a band of rob­bers,
and I might join if I would go back to the wid­ow and be re­spect­able. So I went back.
The wid­ow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she called me a lot of oth­er names, too, but she nev­er meant no harm by it.
She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn’t do noth­ing but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up.
Well, then, the old thing com­menced again. The wid­ow rung a bell for sup­per, and you had to come to time.
When you got to the table you couldn’t go right to eat­ing, but you had to wait
for the wid­ow to tuck down her head and grumble a little over the victu­als, though there warn’t really any­thing the mat­ter with them
— that is, noth­ing only everything was cooked by it­self.
In a bar­rel of odds and ends it is dif­fer­ent; things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps around, and the things go bet­ter.
After sup­per she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bul­rush­ers,
and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out that Moses had been dead a con­sid­er­able long time;
so then I didn’t care no more about him, be­cause I don’t take no stock in dead people.
Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the wid­ow to let me. But she wouldn’t.
She said it was a mean prac­tice and wasn’t clean, and I must try to not do it any more.
That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don’t know noth­ing about it.
Here she was a-both­er­ing about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to any­body, be­ing gone, you see,
yet find­ing a power of fault with me for do­ing a thing that had some good in it.
And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, be­cause she done it her­self.
Her sis­ter, Miss Wat­son, a tol­er­able slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book.
She worked me mid­dling hard for about an hour, and then the wid­ow made her ease up.
I couldn’t stood it much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fid­gety.
Miss Wat­son would say, “Don’t put your feet up there, Huckle­berry”;
and “Don’t scrunch up like that, Huckle­berry — set up straight”;
and pretty soon she would say, “Don’t gap and stretch like that, Huckle­berry — why don’t you try to be­have?”
Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there.
She got mad then, but I didn’t mean no harm. All I wanted was to go some­wheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn’t par­tic­u­lar.
She said it was wicked to say what I said; said she wouldn’t say it for the whole world;
she was go­ing to live so as to go to the good place.
Well, I couldn’t see no ad­vant­age in go­ing where she was go­ing, so I made up my mind I wouldn’t try for it.
But I nev­er said so, be­cause it would only make trouble, and wouldn’t do no good.
Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good place.
She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever.
So I didn’t think much of it. But I nev­er said so.
I asked her if she reckoned Tom Saw­yer would go there, and she said not by a con­sid­er­able sight.
I was glad about that, be­cause I wanted him and me to be to­geth­er.
Miss Wat­son she kept peck­ing at me, and it got tire­some and lone­some.
By and by they fetched the nig­gers in and had pray­ers, and then every­body was off to bed.
I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it on the table.
Then I set down in a chair by the win­dow and tried to think of something cheer­ful, but it warn’t no use.
I felt so lone­some I most wished I was dead. The stars were shin­ing, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mourn­ful;
and I heard an owl, away off, who-whoo­ing about some­body that was dead, and a whip­pow­ill and a dog cry­ing about some­body that was go­ing to die;
and the wind was try­ing to whis­per something to me, and I couldn’t make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me.
Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes
when it wants to tell about something that’s on its mind and can’t make it­self un­der­stood,
and so can’t rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night griev­ing.
I got so down­hearted and scared I did wish I had some com­pany.
Pretty soon a spider went crawl­ing up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and be­fore I could budge it was all shriveled up.
I didn’t need any­body to tell me that that was an aw­ful bad sign
and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me.
I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time;
and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But I hadn’t no con­fid­ence.
You do that when you’ve lost a horse­shoe that you’ve found, in­stead of nail­ing it up over the door,
but I hadn’t ever heard any­body say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you’d killed a spider.
I set down again, a-shak­ing all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke;
for the house was all as still as death now, and so the wid­ow wouldn’t know.
Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go boom — boom — boom — twelve licks; and all still again — stil­ler than ever.
Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees — something was a-stir­ring.
I set still and listened. Dir­ectly I could just barely hear a “me-yow! me-yow!” down there.
That was good! Says I, “me-yow! me-yow!” as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and scrambled out of the win­dow on to the shed.
Then I slipped down to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was Tom Saw­yer wait­ing for me.

Mark Twain
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn / Huckleberry Finns Abenteuer
Zweisprachige Ausgabe
Übersetzt von Lore Krüger

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Die Übersetzung erschien erstmals 1963 als Band 8 in Mark Twain: Ausgewählte Werke in zwölf Bänden im Aufbau Verlag Berlin und Weimar.
© Aufbau Verlag GmbH & Co. KG, Berlin 1963, 2008

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