The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County

By Mark Twain

IN COMPLIANCE WITH the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the East, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired after my friend's friend, Leonidas W. Smiley, as requested to do, and I hereunto append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth; that my friend never knew such a personage; and that he only conjectured that, if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley, and he would go to work and bore me nearly to death with some infernal reminiscence of him as long and tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it certainly succeeded.

I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of the old, dilapidated tavern in the ancient mining camp of Angel's, and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up and gave me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had commissioned me to make some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named Leonidas W. Smiley—Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, a young minister of the Gospel, who he had heard was at one time a resident of Angel's Camp. I added that, if Mr. Wheeler could tell me any thing about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, I would feel under many obligations to him.

Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his chair, and then sat me down and reeled off the monotonous narrative which follows this paragraph. He never smiled, he never frowned, he never changed his voice from the gentle-flowing key to which he tuned the initial sentence, he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm; but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein of impressive earnestness and sincerity, which showed me plainly that, so far from his imagining that there was any thing ridiculous or funny about his story, he regarded it as a really important matter, and admired its two heroes as men of transcendent genius in finesse. To me, the spectacle of a man drifting serenely along through such a queer yarn without ever smiling, was exquisitely absurd. As I said before, I asked him to tell me what he knew of Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and he replied as follows. I let him go on in his own way, and never interrupted him once:

There was a feller here once by the name of Jim Smiley, in the winter of '49 or maybe it was the spring of '50 I don't recollect exactly, somehow, though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I remember the big flume warn't finished when he first came to the camp; but anyway, he was the curiosest man about always betting on any thing that turned up you ever see, if he could get any body to bet on the other side; and if he couldn't, he'd change sides. Any way that suited the other man would suit him—any way just so's he got a bet, he was satisfied. But still he was lucky, uncommon lucky; he most always come out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance; there couldn't be no solittry thing mentioned but that feller'd offer to bet on it, and take any side you please, as I was just telling you. If there was a horse-race, you'd find him flush, or you'd find him busted at the end of it; if there was a dog-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a cat-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a chicken-fight, he'd bet on it; why, if there was two birds setting on a fence, he would bet you which one would fly first; or if there was a camp-meeting, he would be there reg'lar, to bet on Parson Walker, which he judged to be the best exhorter about here, and so he was, too, and a good man. If he even seen a straddle-bug start to go anywheres, he would bet you how long it would take him to get wherever he was going to, and if you took him up, he would foller that straddle-bug to Mexico but what he would find out where he was bound for and how long he was on the road. Lots of the boys here has seen that Smiley, and can tell you about him. Why, it never made no difference to him—he would bet on anything—the dangdest feller. Parson Walker's wife laid very sick once, for a good while, and it seemed as if they warn't going to save her; but one morning he come in, and Smiley asked how she was, and he said she was considerable better thank the Lord for his inf'nit mercy and coming on so smart that, with the blessing of Providence, she'd get well yet; and Smiley, before he thought, says, “Well, I'll risk two-and-a-half that she don't, anyway.”

Thish-yer Smiley had a mare; the boys called her the fifteen-minute nag, but that was only in fun, you know, because, of course, she was faster than that, and he used to win money on that horse, for all she was so slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper, or the consumption, or something of that kind. They used to give her two or three hundred yards start, and then pass her under way; but always at the fag-end of the race she'd get excited and desperate-like, and come cavorting and straddling up, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the air, and sometimes out to one side amongst the fences, and kicking up m-o-r-e dust, and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing and blowing her nose and always fetch up at the stand just about a neck ahead, as near as you could cipher it down.

And he had a little small bull pup, that to look at him you'd think he warn't worth a cent, but to set around and look ornery, and lay for a chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up on him, he was a different dog; his underjaw'd begin to stick out like the fo'castle of a steamboat,

and his teeth would uncover, and shine savage like the furnaces. And a dog might tackle him, and bully-rag him, and bite him, and throw him over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew Jackson—which was the name of the pup—Andrew Jackson would never let on but what he was satisfied, and hadn't expected nothing else and the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time, till the money was all up; and then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog jest by the j'int of his hind leg and freeze on it, not chew, you understand, but only jest grip and hang on till they throwed up the sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winner on that pup, till he harnessed a dog once that didn't have no hind legs, because they'd been sawed off by a circular saw, and when the thing had gone along far enough, and the money was all up, and he come to make a snatch for his pet holt, he saw in a minute how he'd been imposed on, and how the other dog had him in the door, so to speak, and he 'peered sur-prised, and then he looked sorter discouraged-like, and didn't try no more to win the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He give Smiley a look, as much as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault, for putting up a dog that hadn't no hind legs for him to take bolt of, which was his main dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson, and would have made a name for hisself if he'd lived, for the stuff was in him, and he had genius—I know it, because he hadn't had no opportunities to speak of, and it don't stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight as he could under them circumstances, if he hadn't no talent. It always makes me feel sorry when I think of that last fight of his'n, and the way it turned out.

Well, thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, and chicken cocks, and tom-cats, and all of them kind of things, till you couldn't rest, and you couldn't fetch nothing for him to bet on but he'd match you. He ketched a frog one day, and took him home, and said he cal'klated to edercate him; and so he never done nothing for three months but set in his back yard and learn that frog to jump. And you bet you he did learn him, too. He'd give him a little punch behind, and the next minute you'd see that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut, see him turn one summerset, or maybe a couple, if he got a good start, and come down flat-footed and all right, like a cat. He got him up so in the matter of catching flies, and kept him in practice so constant, that he'd nail a fly every time as far as he could see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted was education, and he could do most any thing and I believe him. Why, I've seen him set Dan'l Webster down here on this floor (Dan'l Webster was the name of the frog) and sing out, “Flies, Dan'l, flies!” and quicker'n you could wink, he'd spring straight up, and snake a fly off'n the counter there, and flop down on the floor again as solid as a gob of mud, and fall to scratching the side of his head with his hind foot as indifferent as if he hadn't no idea he'd been doin' any more'n any frog might do. You never see a frog so modest and straightforward as he was, for all he was so gifted. And when it come to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he could get over more ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see. Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit, you understand; and when it come to that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley was monstrous proud of his frog, and well he might be, for fellers that had traveled and been everywheres, all said he laid over any frog that ever they see.

Well, Smiley kept the beast in a little lattice box, and he used to fetch him down town sometimes and lay for a bet. One day a feller—a stranger in the camp—he was come across him with his box, and says:

“What might it be that you've got in the box?”

And Smiley says, sorter indifferent like, “It might be a parrot, or it might be a canary, may be, but it an't; it's only just a frog.”

And the feller took it, and looked at it careful, and turned it round this way and that, and says, “H'm so 'tis. Well, what's he good for?”

“Well,” Smiley says, easy and careless, “He's good enough for one thing, I should judge he can outjump any frog in Calaveras County.”

The feller took the box again, and took another long, particular look, and give it back to Smiley, and says, very deliberate, “Well, I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n any other frog.”

“Maybe you don't,” Smiley says. “Maybe you understand frogs, and maybe you don't understand 'em; maybe you've had experience, and maybe you ain't only a amature, as it were. Anyways, I've got my opinion, and I'll risk forty dollars that he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county.”

And the feller studied a minute, and then says, kinder sad like, “Well, I'm only a stranger here, and I ain't got no frog; but if I had a frog, I'd bet you.”

And then Smiley says, “That's all right—that's all right; if you'll hold my box a minute, I'll go and get you a frog.” And so the feller took the box, and put up his forty dollars along with Smiley's, and set down to wait.

So he set there a good while thinking and thinking to hisself, and then he got the frog out and prized his mouth open and took a tea- spoon and filled him full of quail shot, filled him pretty near up to his chin and set him on the floor. Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in the mud for a long time, and finally he ketched a frog, and fetched him in, and give him to this feller, and says:

“Now, if you're ready, set him alongside of Dan'l, with his fore-paws just even with Dan'l, and I'll give the word.” Then he says, “One, two, three, jump!” and him and the feller touched up the frogs from behind, and the new frog hopped off, but Dan'l give a heave, and hysted up his shoulders so like a Frenchman, but it warn't no use he couldn't budge; he was planted as solid as an anvil, and he couldn't no more stir than if he was anchored out. Smiley was a good deal surprised, and he was disgusted too, but he didn't have no idea what the matter was, of course.

The feller took the money and started away; and when he was going out at the door, he sorter jerked his thumb over his shoulders this way at Dan'l, and says again, very deliberate, “Well, I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n any other frog.”

Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Dan'l a long time, and at last he says, “I do wonder what in the nation that frog throw'd off for; I wonder if there ain't something the matter with him he 'pears to look mighty baggy, somehow.” And he ketched Dan'l by the nap of the neck, and lifted him up and says, “Why, blame my cats, if he don't weigh five pound!” and turned him upside down, and he belched out a double handful of shot. And then he see how it was, and he was the maddest man he set the frog down and took out after that feller, but he never ketched him. And—

[Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard, and got up to see what was wanted.] And turning to me as he moved away, he said: “Just set where you are, stranger, and rest easy I ain't going to be gone a second.”

But, by your leave, I did not think that a continuation of the history of the enterprising vagabond Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much information concerning the Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and so I started away.

At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning, and he button- holed me and recommenced:

“Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yeller one-eyed cow that didn't have no tail, only jest a short stump like a bannanner, and—”

“Oh! hang Smiley and his afflicted cow!” I muttered, good-naturedly, and bidding the old gentleman good-day, I departed.

Footnotes

  1. “Buttonholed” is an expression that refers to taking hold of the front of a listener’s coat so that the listener can’t get away. It implies that the speaker is long-winded and boring. The narrator is about to make his escape from Simon Wheeler, but isn’t out the door yet.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  2. At this point, the narrator intervenes and tells his story to its conclusion, thus closing the frame around Wheeler’s story about Jim Smiley.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  3. While telling his story, Wheeler physically demonstrates how the frog “hysted [hoisted] up” his shoulders while trying to jump. The demonstration humorously satirizes a physical trait the French often display while speaking.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  4. Since the 1920s, an annual frog-jumping contest has been held in Angels Camp, Calaveras County, in honor of Twain’s short story.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  5. The ridiculousness of Smiley’s feeling the need to teach a frog how to jump illustrates how Twain employs stereotypes from the era about Western settlers—that they weren’t as educated and sophisticated as Easterners. Twain himself had a strong connection with the West: He grew up in Missouri but moved west in his 20s, living and writing in Nevada and California for almost seven years. His experiences in the American West launched his literary career with the publication of this story and served as material for his 1872 semi-autobiographical travel narrative, Roughing It.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  6. The names of Smiley’s pets are humorous because they represent two major political figures in U.S. history who opposed each other. Andrew Jackson was the seventh President of the United States, from 1829 through 1837. Smiley’s frog, Dan’l Webster, (introduced later in the story), is named after senator Daniel Webster, one of Jackson’s most vocal political opponents..

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  7. The humor in this passage is created with vivid visual imagery describing Smiley’s mare running the end a race.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  8. Consumption is a lay term for tuberculosis, an infectious disease of the lungs that was extremely common—and deadly—throughout human history. In 1882, German physician and microbiologist Robert Koch discovered that the disease was caused by a type of bacteria that could be spread from person to person.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  9. In context, “nag” is slang for a horse, especially a race horse, and has connotations of being old, inferior, or worthless. Calling Smiley’s mare “the fifteen-minute nag” indicates that she needs fifteen minutes to run only a quarter mile.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  10. Incongruity, another humor technique, is employed in this passage: Smiley’s response is wildly incompatible with the subject of the discussion.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  11. Twain’s story reflects the humor of the Southwest frontier, a genre in American humor in the early 1800s that was rich in exaggeration and tall tales.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  12. A straddle bug is an insect with long legs, similar to a beetle.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  13. “Curiousest” means most curious, another example of Twain’s approximating in writing Wheeler’s spoken language. The remainder of Wheeler’s narrative about Jim Smiley is written in vernacular style, which often adds to the humor in the story.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  14. A flume is a artificial waterway sometimes used to transport materials. “Warn’t,” meaning “wasn’t,” is an example of Twain’s vernacular style in the story. “Vernacular” refers to the everyday spoken language of people in a particular locality or of a particular culture or social class. The striking contrast between Simon Wheeler’s speech and the narrator’s contributes to the humorous contrasts between their characters.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  15. Just as the narrator had suspected, the mention of Leonidas W. Smiley gives Simon Wheeler an excuse to reminisce about Jim Smiley.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  16. As the words are used here, “transcendent” means above or beyond the range of normal human limits or experience, and “finesse” is defined as subtle skill, expertise, or artistry. The narrator is poking fun at Wheeler for holding the “heroes” in his story in such high regard.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  17. The narrator vouches for Wheeler’s sincerity in relating his story, while implying that readers may find it ridiculous or amusing, as does the narrator.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  18. The narrator alerts readers that he is about to share the story that Simon Wheeler told him. Wheeler’s “monotonous narrative” will become the story within a story in this frame tale.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  19. Twain’s dry sense of humor is evident in the passage as the narrator describes essentially being held captive and forced to listen to Wheeler’s story.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  20. The character of Simon Wheeler may be based in part on one of Twain’s friends at Angel’s Camp, Jim Gillis. Twain wrote in his journals that Gillis would often regale him and other listeners with stories he made up in the moment, fulling recognizing the ridiculousness of the tales he told.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  21. One of Twain’s early ambitions was to become a preacher. He did not pursue this path, however, because of his conflicting beliefs about religion. Though he believed in God, he often criticized organized religion and sometimes satirized it in his writing. He struggled with his religious beliefs throughout his life.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  22. Angel’s Camp was a former mining camp in California’s Calaveras County. In 1864-1865, Mark Twain spent several months there while writing this short story. Today, Angel’s Camp, also known as City of Angels, is the only incorporated city in the county.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  23. Twain’s short story is an example of a frame tale, a narrative that consists of a story within a story. The first story acts as a “frame” within which a second story is told; the second story is often more prominent or important than the first. The unnamed narrator’s story of visiting Simon Wheeler is the frame; Wheeler then tells the narrator a story about Jim Smiley.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  24. A reminiscence is an enjoyable recollection of past events. The narrator’s expectations regarding his meeting with Simon Wheeler foreshadows the narrator’s subsequent experiences in the story.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  25. Describing Jim Smiley as “infamous” indicates that he is famous for some negative reason or disreputable personal trait. Referring to him as Simon Wheeler’s Jim Smiley suggests that Wheeler has talked about Smiley many times.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  26. The verb “to conjecture” means to suppose or suspect that something is true.

    — Owl Eyes Editors
  27. Calaveras County is located in the foothills of Northern California called "the Gold Country." A jumping frog contest has been a featured event at the annual Angel's Camp county fair since the 1930s. The event commemorates Mark Twain's story, and since the jumping frog contest has become widely known as a tourist attraction, it can be said that Mark Twain's frog really is "celebrated."

    — William Delaney
  28. Smiley's frog, Dan'l Webster, is not just a good jumper. Smiley spends three months teaching a frog to jump. His obvious intention is to be the owner of a trained, professional jumper so that he can make money betting on it. He would have to "lay for" a newcomer because everyone who knew Smiley knew he had "educated" Dan'l Webster. The humor in the story is based largely on the fact that the "stranger" seems to be an excellent victim but it turns out that he is not as naive as Smiley takes him to be.

    — William Delaney
  29. The verb "button-holed" refers to the action of taking a listener by his coat-lapel so that he can't get away. Use of the term here suggests that Wheeler is a non-stop talker and also a terrible bore.

    — William Delaney
  30. A "fifteen-minute nag" means the mare could run a quarter-mile course in fifteen minutes.

    — Stephen Holliday
  31. American author Mark Twain was skillful at accurately reflecting 19th century speech patterns and vocabulary of rural areas.

    — Stephen Holliday
  32. The year 1849 marks the beginning of the California Gold Rush. John Sutter, owner of Sutter's Mill near Sacramento, California, found gold on his property and sparked one of the largest gold hunts in history.

    — Stephen Holliday
  33. Twain heard a version of the story in 1865 while he was staying at the Angel's Hotel in the mining town of Angel's Camp in Calaveras County, California.  In other versions of the story, Twain uses the fictitious name of "Boomerang" for Angel's Camp.

    — Stephen Holliday
  34. The adjective “garrulous” means excessively talkative and long winded, especially when speaking about uninteresting subjects.

    — Owl Eyes Reader
  35. Daniel Webster (1782–1852) was a famous orator in the US Senate, known for his attempts to avert the Civil War. Twain uses the same technique as he did with “Andrew Jackson” earlier in naming the animals after famous men: not to criticize or ridicule them but to have fun at the tendency for people to give their pets strong names to ensure success.

    — Owl Eyes Reader