From 1375471eea56e1c89bbf25f44701023f6bbbee32 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Tal Einat Date: Tue, 14 Jan 2020 09:38:16 +0200 Subject: [PATCH] WIP --- README.rst | 4 - .../The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.txt | 11158 ++++++++++++++++ benchmarks/__init__.py | 116 - benchmarks/__main__.py | 46 +- benchmarks/book.py | 22 + benchmarks/dna_search.py | 21 +- benchmarks/main.py | 91 + benchmarks/micro_benchmarks.py | 119 + 8 files changed, 11410 insertions(+), 167 deletions(-) create mode 100644 benchmarks/The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.txt create mode 100644 benchmarks/book.py create mode 100644 benchmarks/main.py create mode 100644 benchmarks/micro_benchmarks.py diff --git a/README.rst b/README.rst index 66c7251..e5092c4 100644 --- a/README.rst +++ b/README.rst @@ -26,10 +26,6 @@ fuzzysearch :target: https://pypi.python.org/pypi/fuzzysearch :alt: Supported Python versions -.. image:: https://img.shields.io/pypi/implementation/fuzzysearch.svg?style=flat - :target: https://pypi.python.org/pypi/fuzzysearch - :alt: Supported Python implementations - .. image:: https://img.shields.io/pypi/l/fuzzysearch.svg?style=flat :target: https://pypi.python.org/pypi/fuzzysearch/ :alt: License diff --git a/benchmarks/The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.txt b/benchmarks/The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..920d401 --- /dev/null +++ b/benchmarks/The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11158 @@ +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. + +HUCKLEBERRY FINN + +Scene: The Mississippi Valley Time: Forty to fifty years ago + +CHAPTER I. + +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 +down-hearted 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. + +CHAPTER II. + +WE went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back towards the end of +the widow's garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn't scrape our +heads. When we was passing by the kitchen I fell over a root and made a +noise. We scrouched down and laid still. Miss Watson's big nigger, +named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door; we could see him pretty +clear, because there was a light behind him. He got up and stretched his +neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says: + +"Who dah?" + +He listened some more; then he come tiptoeing down and stood right +between us; we could a touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was minutes +and minutes that there warn't a sound, and we all there so close +together. There was a place on my ankle that got to itching, but I +dasn't scratch it; and then my ear begun to itch; and next my back, right +between my shoulders. Seemed like I'd die if I couldn't scratch. Well, +I've noticed that thing plenty times since. If you are with the quality, +or at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain't sleepy--if you +are anywheres where it won't do for you to scratch, why you will itch all +over in upwards of a thousand places. Pretty soon Jim says: + +"Say, who is you? Whar is you? Dog my cats ef I didn' hear sumf'n. +Well, I know what I's gwyne to do: I's gwyne to set down here and listen +tell I hears it agin." + +So he set down on the ground betwixt me and Tom. He leaned his back up +against a tree, and stretched his legs out till one of them most touched +one of mine. My nose begun to itch. It itched till the tears come into +my eyes. But I dasn't scratch. Then it begun to itch on the inside. +Next I got to itching underneath. I didn't know how I was going to set +still. This miserableness went on as much as six or seven minutes; but it +seemed a sight longer than that. I was itching in eleven different +places now. I reckoned I couldn't stand it more'n a minute longer, but I +set my teeth hard and got ready to try. Just then Jim begun to breathe +heavy; next he begun to snore--and then I was pretty soon comfortable +again. + +Tom he made a sign to me--kind of a little noise with his mouth--and we +went creeping away on our hands and knees. When we was ten foot off Tom +whispered to me, and wanted to tie Jim to the tree for fun. But I said +no; he might wake and make a disturbance, and then they'd find out I +warn't in. Then Tom said he hadn't got candles enough, and he would slip +in the kitchen and get some more. I didn't want him to try. I said Jim +might wake up and come. But Tom wanted to resk it; so we slid in there +and got three candles, and Tom laid five cents on the table for pay. +Then we got out, and I was in a sweat to get away; but nothing would do +Tom but he must crawl to where Jim was, on his hands and knees, and play +something on him. I waited, and it seemed a good while, everything was +so still and lonesome. + +As soon as Tom was back we cut along the path, around the garden fence, +and by and by fetched up on the steep top of the hill the other side of +the house. Tom said he slipped Jim's hat off of his head and hung it on +a limb right over him, and Jim stirred a little, but he didn't wake. +Afterwards Jim said the witches be witched him and put him in a trance, +and rode him all over the State, and then set him under the trees again, +and hung his hat on a limb to show who done it. And next time Jim told +it he said they rode him down to New Orleans; and, after that, every time +he told it he spread it more and more, till by and by he said they rode +him all over the world, and tired him most to death, and his back was all +over saddle-boils. Jim was monstrous proud about it, and he got so he +wouldn't hardly notice the other niggers. Niggers would come miles to +hear Jim tell about it, and he was more looked up to than any nigger in +that country. Strange niggers would stand with their mouths open and +look him all over, same as if he was a wonder. Niggers is always talking +about witches in the dark by the kitchen fire; but whenever one was +talking and letting on to know all about such things, Jim would happen in +and say, "Hm! What you know 'bout witches?" and that nigger was corked +up and had to take a back seat. Jim always kept that five-center piece +round his neck with a string, and said it was a charm the devil give to +him with his own hands, and told him he could cure anybody with it and +fetch witches whenever he wanted to just by saying something to it; but +he never told what it was he said to it. Niggers would come from all +around there and give Jim anything they had, just for a sight of that +five-center piece; but they wouldn't touch it, because the devil had had +his hands on it. Jim was most ruined for a servant, because he got stuck +up on account of having seen the devil and been rode by witches. + +Well, when Tom and me got to the edge of the hilltop we looked away down +into the village and could see three or four lights twinkling, where +there was sick folks, maybe; and the stars over us was sparkling ever so +fine; and down by the village was the river, a whole mile broad, and +awful still and grand. We went down the hill and found Jo Harper and Ben +Rogers, and two or three more of the boys, hid in the old tanyard. So we +unhitched a skiff and pulled down the river two mile and a half, to the +big scar on the hillside, and went ashore. + +We went to a clump of bushes, and Tom made everybody swear to keep the +secret, and then showed them a hole in the hill, right in the thickest +part of the bushes. Then we lit the candles, and crawled in on our hands +and knees. We went about two hundred yards, and then the cave opened up. +Tom poked about amongst the passages, and pretty soon ducked under a wall +where you wouldn't a noticed that there was a hole. We went along a +narrow place and got into a kind of room, all damp and sweaty and cold, +and there we stopped. Tom says: + +"Now, we'll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer's Gang. +Everybody that wants to join has got to take an oath, and write his name +in blood." + +Everybody was willing. So Tom got out a sheet of paper that he had wrote +the oath on, and read it. It swore every boy to stick to the band, and +never tell any of the secrets; and if anybody done anything to any boy in +the band, whichever boy was ordered to kill that person and his family +must do it, and he mustn't eat and he mustn't sleep till he had killed +them and hacked a cross in their breasts, which was the sign of the band. +And nobody that didn't belong to the band could use that mark, and if he +did he must be sued; and if he done it again he must be killed. And if +anybody that belonged to the band told the secrets, he must have his +throat cut, and then have his carcass burnt up and the ashes scattered +all around, and his name blotted off of the list with blood and never +mentioned again by the gang, but have a curse put on it and be forgot +forever. + +Everybody said it was a real beautiful oath, and asked Tom if he got it +out of his own head. He said, some of it, but the rest was out of +pirate-books and robber-books, and every gang that was high-toned had it. + +Some thought it would be good to kill the FAMILIES of boys that told the +secrets. Tom said it was a good idea, so he took a pencil and wrote it +in. Then Ben Rogers says: + +"Here's Huck Finn, he hain't got no family; what you going to do 'bout +him?" + +"Well, hain't he got a father?" says Tom Sawyer. + +"Yes, he's got a father, but you can't never find him these days. He +used to lay drunk with the hogs in the tanyard, but he hain't been seen +in these parts for a year or more." + +They talked it over, and they was going to rule me out, because they said +every boy must have a family or somebody to kill, or else it wouldn't be +fair and square for the others. Well, nobody could think of anything to +do--everybody was stumped, and set still. I was most ready to cry; but +all at once I thought of a way, and so I offered them Miss Watson--they +could kill her. Everybody said: + +"Oh, she'll do. That's all right. Huck can come in." + +Then they all stuck a pin in their fingers to get blood to sign with, and +I made my mark on the paper. + +"Now," says Ben Rogers, "what's the line of business of this Gang?" + +"Nothing only robbery and murder," Tom said. + +"But who are we going to rob?--houses, or cattle, or--" + +"Stuff! stealing cattle and such things ain't robbery; it's burglary," +says Tom Sawyer. "We ain't burglars. That ain't no sort of style. We +are highwaymen. We stop stages and carriages on the road, with masks on, +and kill the people and take their watches and money." + +"Must we always kill the people?" + +"Oh, certainly. It's best. Some authorities think different, but mostly +it's considered best to kill them--except some that you bring to the cave +here, and keep them till they're ransomed." + +"Ransomed? What's that?" + +"I don't know. But that's what they do. I've seen it in books; and so +of course that's what we've got to do." + +"But how can we do it if we don't know what it is?" + +"Why, blame it all, we've GOT to do it. Don't I tell you it's in the +books? Do you want to go to doing different from what's in the books, +and get things all muddled up?" + +"Oh, that's all very fine to SAY, Tom Sawyer, but how in the nation are +these fellows going to be ransomed if we don't know how to do it to them? +--that's the thing I want to get at. Now, what do you reckon it is?" + +"Well, I don't know. But per'aps if we keep them till they're ransomed, +it means that we keep them till they're dead." + +"Now, that's something LIKE. That'll answer. Why couldn't you said that +before? We'll keep them till they're ransomed to death; and a bothersome +lot they'll be, too--eating up everything, and always trying to get +loose." + +"How you talk, Ben Rogers. How can they get loose when there's a guard +over them, ready to shoot them down if they move a peg?" + +"A guard! Well, that IS good. So somebody's got to set up all night and +never get any sleep, just so as to watch them. I think that's +foolishness. Why can't a body take a club and ransom them as soon as they +get here?" + +"Because it ain't in the books so--that's why. Now, Ben Rogers, do you +want to do things regular, or don't you?--that's the idea. Don't you +reckon that the people that made the books knows what's the correct thing +to do? Do you reckon YOU can learn 'em anything? Not by a good deal. +No, sir, we'll just go on and ransom them in the regular way." + +"All right. I don't mind; but I say it's a fool way, anyhow. Say, do we +kill the women, too?" + +"Well, Ben Rogers, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn't let on. Kill +the women? No; nobody ever saw anything in the books like that. You +fetch them to the cave, and you're always as polite as pie to them; and +by and by they fall in love with you, and never want to go home any +more." + +"Well, if that's the way I'm agreed, but I don't take no stock in it. +Mighty soon we'll have the cave so cluttered up with women, and fellows +waiting to be ransomed, that there won't be no place for the robbers. +But go ahead, I ain't got nothing to say." + +Little Tommy Barnes was asleep now, and when they waked him up he was +scared, and cried, and said he wanted to go home to his ma, and didn't +want to be a robber any more. + +So they all made fun of him, and called him cry-baby, and that made him +mad, and he said he would go straight and tell all the secrets. But Tom +give him five cents to keep quiet, and said we would all go home and meet +next week, and rob somebody and kill some people. + +Ben Rogers said he couldn't get out much, only Sundays, and so he wanted +to begin next Sunday; but all the boys said it would be wicked to do it +on Sunday, and that settled the thing. They agreed to get together and +fix a day as soon as they could, and then we elected Tom Sawyer first +captain and Jo Harper second captain of the Gang, and so started home. + +I clumb up the shed and crept into my window just before day was +breaking. My new clothes was all greased up and clayey, and I was dog- +tired. + +CHAPTER III. + +WELL, I got a good going-over in the morning from old Miss Watson on +account of my clothes; but the widow she didn't scold, but only cleaned +off the grease and clay, and looked so sorry that I thought I would +behave awhile if I could. Then Miss Watson she took me in the closet and +prayed, but nothing come of it. She told me to pray every day, and +whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so. I tried it. +Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without +hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't +make it work. By and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but +she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I couldn't make it out +no way. + +I set down one time back in the woods, and had a long think about it. I +says to myself, if a body can get anything they pray for, why don't +Deacon Winn get back the money he lost on pork? Why can't the widow get +back her silver snuffbox that was stole? Why can't Miss Watson fat up? +No, says I to my self, there ain't nothing in it. I went and told the +widow about it, and she said the thing a body could get by praying for it +was "spiritual gifts." This was too many for me, but she told me what +she meant--I must help other people, and do everything I could for other +people, and look out for them all the time, and never think about myself. +This was including Miss Watson, as I took it. I went out in the woods +and turned it over in my mind a long time, but I couldn't see no +advantage about it--except for the other people; so at last I reckoned I +wouldn't worry about it any more, but just let it go. Sometimes the +widow would take me one side and talk about Providence in a way to make a +body's mouth water; but maybe next day Miss Watson would take hold and +knock it all down again. I judged I could see that there was two +Providences, and a poor chap would stand considerable show with the +widow's Providence, but if Miss Watson's got him there warn't no help for +him any more. I thought it all out, and reckoned I would belong to the +widow's if he wanted me, though I couldn't make out how he was a-going to +be any better off then than what he was before, seeing I was so ignorant, +and so kind of low-down and ornery. + +Pap he hadn't been seen for more than a year, and that was comfortable +for me; I didn't want to see him no more. He used to always whale me +when he was sober and could get his hands on me; though I used to take to +the woods most of the time when he was around. Well, about this time he +was found in the river drownded, about twelve mile above town, so people +said. They judged it was him, anyway; said this drownded man was just +his size, and was ragged, and had uncommon long hair, which was all like +pap; but they couldn't make nothing out of the face, because it had been +in the water so long it warn't much like a face at all. They said he was +floating on his back in the water. They took him and buried him on the +bank. But I warn't comfortable long, because I happened to think of +something. I knowed mighty well that a drownded man don't float on his +back, but on his face. So I knowed, then, that this warn't pap, but a +woman dressed up in a man's clothes. So I was uncomfortable again. I +judged the old man would turn up again by and by, though I wished he +wouldn't. + +We played robber now and then about a month, and then I resigned. All +the boys did. We hadn't robbed nobody, hadn't killed any people, but +only just pretended. We used to hop out of the woods and go charging +down on hog-drivers and women in carts taking garden stuff to market, but +we never hived any of them. Tom Sawyer called the hogs "ingots," and he +called the turnips and stuff "julery," and we would go to the cave and +powwow over what we had done, and how many people we had killed and +marked. But I couldn't see no profit in it. One time Tom sent a boy to +run about town with a blazing stick, which he called a slogan (which was +the sign for the Gang to get together), and then he said he had got +secret news by his spies that next day a whole parcel of Spanish +merchants and rich A-rabs was going to camp in Cave Hollow with two +hundred elephants, and six hundred camels, and over a thousand "sumter" +mules, all loaded down with di'monds, and they didn't have only a guard +of four hundred soldiers, and so we would lay in ambuscade, as he called +it, and kill the lot and scoop the things. He said we must slick up our +swords and guns, and get ready. He never could go after even a turnip- +cart but he must have the swords and guns all scoured up for it, though +they was only lath and broomsticks, and you might scour at them till you +rotted, and then they warn't worth a mouthful of ashes more than what +they was before. I didn't believe we could lick such a crowd of +Spaniards and A-rabs, but I wanted to see the camels and elephants, so I +was on hand next day, Saturday, in the ambuscade; and when we got the +word we rushed out of the woods and down the hill. But there warn't no +Spaniards and A-rabs, and there warn't no camels nor no elephants. It +warn't anything but a Sunday-school picnic, and only a primer-class at +that. We busted it up, and chased the children up the hollow; but we +never got anything but some doughnuts and jam, though Ben Rogers got a +rag doll, and Jo Harper got a hymn-book and a tract; and then the teacher +charged in, and made us drop everything and cut. I didn't see no +di'monds, and I told Tom Sawyer so. He said there was loads of them +there, anyway; and he said there was A-rabs there, too, and elephants and +things. I said, why couldn't we see them, then? He said if I warn't so +ignorant, but had read a book called Don Quixote, I would know without +asking. He said it was all done by enchantment. He said there was +hundreds of soldiers there, and elephants and treasure, and so on, but we +had enemies which he called magicians; and they had turned the whole +thing into an infant Sunday-school, just out of spite. I said, all +right; then the thing for us to do was to go for the magicians. Tom +Sawyer said I was a numskull. + +"Why," said he, "a magician could call up a lot of genies, and they would +hash you up like nothing before you could say Jack Robinson. They are as +tall as a tree and as big around as a church." + +"Well," I says, "s'pose we got some genies to help US--can't we lick the +other crowd then?" + +"How you going to get them?" + +"I don't know. How do THEY get them?" + +"Why, they rub an old tin lamp or an iron ring, and then the genies come +tearing in, with the thunder and lightning a-ripping around and the smoke +a-rolling, and everything they're told to do they up and do it. They +don't think nothing of pulling a shot-tower up by the roots, and belting +a Sunday-school superintendent over the head with it--or any other man." + +"Who makes them tear around so?" + +"Why, whoever rubs the lamp or the ring. They belong to whoever rubs the +lamp or the ring, and they've got to do whatever he says. If he tells +them to build a palace forty miles long out of di'monds, and fill it full +of chewing-gum, or whatever you want, and fetch an emperor's daughter +from China for you to marry, they've got to do it--and they've got to do +it before sun-up next morning, too. And more: they've got to waltz that +palace around over the country wherever you want it, you understand." + +"Well," says I, "I think they are a pack of flat-heads for not keeping +the palace themselves 'stead of fooling them away like that. And what's +more--if I was one of them I would see a man in Jericho before I would +drop my business and come to him for the rubbing of an old tin lamp." + +"How you talk, Huck Finn. Why, you'd HAVE to come when he rubbed it, +whether you wanted to or not." + +"What! and I as high as a tree and as big as a church? All right, then; +I WOULD come; but I lay I'd make that man climb the highest tree there +was in the country." + +"Shucks, it ain't no use to talk to you, Huck Finn. You don't seem to +know anything, somehow--perfect saphead." + +I thought all this over for two or three days, and then I reckoned I +would see if there was anything in it. I got an old tin lamp and an iron +ring, and went out in the woods and rubbed and rubbed till I sweat like +an Injun, calculating to build a palace and sell it; but it warn't no +use, none of the genies come. So then I judged that all that stuff was +only just one of Tom Sawyer's lies. I reckoned he believed in the A-rabs +and the elephants, but as for me I think different. It had all the marks +of a Sunday-school. + +CHAPTER IV. + +WELL, three or four months run along, and it was well into the winter +now. I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and +write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six +times seven is thirty-five, and I don't reckon I could ever get any +further than that if I was to live forever. I don't take no stock in +mathematics, anyway. + +At first I hated the school, but by and by I got so I could stand it. +Whenever I got uncommon tired I played hookey, and the hiding I got next +day done me good and cheered me up. So the longer I went to school the +easier it got to be. I was getting sort of used to the widow's ways, +too, and they warn't so raspy on me. Living in a house and sleeping in a +bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I used +to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a rest to +me. I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the new +ones, too, a little bit. The widow said I was coming along slow but sure, +and doing very satisfactory. She said she warn't ashamed of me. + +One morning I happened to turn over the salt-cellar at breakfast. I +reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left shoulder +and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, and +crossed me off. She says, "Take your hands away, Huckleberry; what a mess +you are always making!" The widow put in a good word for me, but that +warn't going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough. I +started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and wondering +where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be. There is +ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn't one of them +kind; so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along low-spirited +and on the watch-out. + +I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go +through the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the +ground, and I seen somebody's tracks. They had come up from the quarry +and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden +fence. It was funny they hadn't come in, after standing around so. I +couldn't make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to +follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn't +notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left +boot-heel made with big nails, to keep off the devil. + +I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my +shoulder every now and then, but I didn't see nobody. I was at Judge +Thatcher's as quick as I could get there. He said: + +"Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your +interest?" + +"No, sir," I says; "is there some for me?" + +"Oh, yes, a half-yearly is in last night--over a hundred and fifty +dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it along +with your six thousand, because if you take it you'll spend it." + +"No, sir," I says, "I don't want to spend it. I don't want it at all-- +nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it; I want to give it +to you--the six thousand and all." + +He looked surprised. He couldn't seem to make it out. He says: + +"Why, what can you mean, my boy?" + +I says, "Don't you ask me no questions about it, please. You'll take it +--won't you?" + +He says: + +"Well, I'm puzzled. Is something the matter?" + +"Please take it," says I, "and don't ask me nothing--then I won't have to +tell no lies." + +He studied a while, and then he says: + +"Oho-o! I think I see. You want to SELL all your property to me--not +give it. That's the correct idea." + +Then he wrote something on a paper and read it over, and says: + +"There; you see it says 'for a consideration.' That means I have bought +it of you and paid you for it. Here's a dollar for you. Now you sign +it." + +So I signed it, and left. + +Miss Watson's nigger, Jim, had a hair-ball as big as your fist, which had +been took out of the fourth stomach of an ox, and he used to do magic +with it. He said there was a spirit inside of it, and it knowed +everything. So I went to him that night and told him pap was here again, +for I found his tracks in the snow. What I wanted to know was, what he +was going to do, and was he going to stay? Jim got out his hair-ball and +said something over it, and then he held it up and dropped it on the +floor. It fell pretty solid, and only rolled about an inch. Jim tried +it again, and then another time, and it acted just the same. Jim got +down on his knees, and put his ear against it and listened. But it +warn't no use; he said it wouldn't talk. He said sometimes it wouldn't +talk without money. I told him I had an old slick counterfeit quarter +that warn't no good because the brass showed through the silver a little, +and it wouldn't pass nohow, even if the brass didn't show, because it was +so slick it felt greasy, and so that would tell on it every time. (I +reckoned I wouldn't say nothing about the dollar I got from the judge.) I +said it was pretty bad money, but maybe the hair-ball would take it, +because maybe it wouldn't know the difference. Jim smelt it and bit it +and rubbed it, and said he would manage so the hair-ball would think it +was good. He said he would split open a raw Irish potato and stick the +quarter in between and keep it there all night, and next morning you +couldn't see no brass, and it wouldn't feel greasy no more, and so +anybody in town would take it in a minute, let alone a hair-ball. Well, +I knowed a potato would do that before, but I had forgot it. + +Jim put the quarter under the hair-ball, and got down and listened again. +This time he said the hair-ball was all right. He said it would tell my +whole fortune if I wanted it to. I says, go on. So the hair-ball talked +to Jim, and Jim told it to me. He says: + +"Yo' ole father doan' know yit what he's a-gwyne to do. Sometimes he +spec he'll go 'way, en den agin he spec he'll stay. De bes' way is to +res' easy en let de ole man take his own way. Dey's two angels hoverin' +roun' 'bout him. One uv 'em is white en shiny, en t'other one is black. +De white one gits him to go right a little while, den de black one sail +in en bust it all up. A body can't tell yit which one gwyne to fetch him +at de las'. But you is all right. You gwyne to have considable trouble +in yo' life, en considable joy. Sometimes you gwyne to git hurt, en +sometimes you gwyne to git sick; but every time you's gwyne to git well +agin. Dey's two gals flyin' 'bout you in yo' life. One uv 'em's light +en t'other one is dark. One is rich en t'other is po'. You's gwyne to +marry de po' one fust en de rich one by en by. You wants to keep 'way +fum de water as much as you kin, en don't run no resk, 'kase it's down in +de bills dat you's gwyne to git hung." + +When I lit my candle and went up to my room that night there sat pap--his +own self! + +CHAPTER V. + +I HAD shut the door to. Then I turned around and there he was. I used +to be scared of him all the time, he tanned me so much. I reckoned I was +scared now, too; but in a minute I see I was mistaken--that is, after the +first jolt, as you may say, when my breath sort of hitched, he being so +unexpected; but right away after I see I warn't scared of him worth +bothring about. + +He was most fifty, and he looked it. His hair was long and tangled and +greasy, and hung down, and you could see his eyes shining through like he +was behind vines. It was all black, no gray; so was his long, mixed-up +whiskers. There warn't no color in his face, where his face showed; it +was white; not like another man's white, but a white to make a body sick, +a white to make a body's flesh crawl--a tree-toad white, a fish-belly +white. As for his clothes--just rags, that was all. He had one ankle +resting on t'other knee; the boot on that foot was busted, and two of his +toes stuck through, and he worked them now and then. His hat was laying +on the floor--an old black slouch with the top caved in, like a lid. + +I stood a-looking at him; he set there a-looking at me, with his chair +tilted back a little. I set the candle down. I noticed the window was +up; so he had clumb in by the shed. He kept a-looking me all over. By +and by he says: + +"Starchy clothes--very. You think you're a good deal of a big-bug, DON'T +you?" + +"Maybe I am, maybe I ain't," I says. + +"Don't you give me none o' your lip," says he. "You've put on +considerable many frills since I been away. I'll take you down a peg +before I get done with you. You're educated, too, they say--can read and +write. You think you're better'n your father, now, don't you, because he +can't? I'LL take it out of you. Who told you you might meddle with such +hifalut'n foolishness, hey?--who told you you could?" + +"The widow. She told me." + +"The widow, hey?--and who told the widow she could put in her shovel +about a thing that ain't none of her business?" + +"Nobody never told her." + +"Well, I'll learn her how to meddle. And looky here--you drop that +school, you hear? I'll learn people to bring up a boy to put on airs +over his own father and let on to be better'n what HE is. You lemme +catch you fooling around that school again, you hear? Your mother +couldn't read, and she couldn't write, nuther, before she died. None of +the family couldn't before THEY died. I can't; and here you're a- +swelling yourself up like this. I ain't the man to stand it--you hear? +Say, lemme hear you read." + +I took up a book and begun something about General Washington and the +wars. When I'd read about a half a minute, he fetched the book a whack +with his hand and knocked it across the house. He says: + +"It's so. You can do it. I had my doubts when you told me. Now looky +here; you stop that putting on frills. I won't have it. I'll lay for +you, my smarty; and if I catch you about that school I'll tan you good. +First you know you'll get religion, too. I never see such a son." + +He took up a little blue and yaller picture of some cows and a boy, and +says: + +"What's this?" + +"It's something they give me for learning my lessons good." + +He tore it up, and says: + +"I'll give you something better--I'll give you a cowhide." + +He set there a-mumbling and a-growling a minute, and then he says: + +"AIN'T you a sweet-scented dandy, though? A bed; and bedclothes; and a +look'n'-glass; and a piece of carpet on the floor--and your own father +got to sleep with the hogs in the tanyard. I never see such a son. I +bet I'll take some o' these frills out o' you before I'm done with you. +Why, there ain't no end to your airs--they say you're rich. Hey?--how's +that?" + +"They lie--that's how." + +"Looky here--mind how you talk to me; I'm a-standing about all I can +stand now--so don't gimme no sass. I've been in town two days, and I +hain't heard nothing but about you bein' rich. I heard about it away +down the river, too. That's why I come. You git me that money +to-morrow--I want it." + +"I hain't got no money." + +"It's a lie. Judge Thatcher's got it. You git it. I want it." + +"I hain't got no money, I tell you. You ask Judge Thatcher; he'll tell +you the same." + +"All right. I'll ask him; and I'll make him pungle, too, or I'll know +the reason why. Say, how much you got in your pocket? I want it." + +"I hain't got only a dollar, and I want that to--" + +"It don't make no difference what you want it for--you just shell it +out." + +He took it and bit it to see if it was good, and then he said he was +going down town to get some whisky; said he hadn't had a drink all day. +When he had got out on the shed he put his head in again, and cussed me +for putting on frills and trying to be better than him; and when I +reckoned he was gone he come back and put his head in again, and told me +to mind about that school, because he was going to lay for me and lick me +if I didn't drop that. + +Next day he was drunk, and he went to Judge Thatcher's and bullyragged +him, and tried to make him give up the money; but he couldn't, and then +he swore he'd make the law force him. + +The judge and the widow went to law to get the court to take me away from +him and let one of them be my guardian; but it was a new judge that had +just come, and he didn't know the old man; so he said courts mustn't +interfere and separate families if they could help it; said he'd druther +not take a child away from its father. So Judge Thatcher and the widow +had to quit on the business. + +That pleased the old man till he couldn't rest. He said he'd cowhide me +till I was black and blue if I didn't raise some money for him. I +borrowed three dollars from Judge Thatcher, and pap took it and got +drunk, and went a-blowing around and cussing and whooping and carrying +on; and he kept it up all over town, with a tin pan, till most midnight; +then they jailed him, and next day they had him before court, and jailed +him again for a week. But he said HE was satisfied; said he was boss of +his son, and he'd make it warm for HIM. + +When he got out the new judge said he was a-going to make a man of him. +So he took him to his own house, and dressed him up clean and nice, and +had him to breakfast and dinner and supper with the family, and was just +old pie to him, so to speak. And after supper he talked to him about +temperance and such things till the old man cried, and said he'd been a +fool, and fooled away his life; but now he was a-going to turn over a new +leaf and be a man nobody wouldn't be ashamed of, and he hoped the judge +would help him and not look down on him. The judge said he could hug him +for them words; so he cried, and his wife she cried again; pap said he'd +been a man that had always been misunderstood before, and the judge said +he believed it. The old man said that what a man wanted that was down +was sympathy, and the judge said it was so; so they cried again. And +when it was bedtime the old man rose up and held out his hand, and says: + +"Look at it, gentlemen and ladies all; take a-hold of it; shake it. +There's a hand that was the hand of a hog; but it ain't so no more; it's +the hand of a man that's started in on a new life, and'll die before +he'll go back. You mark them words--don't forget I said them. It's a +clean hand now; shake it--don't be afeard." + +So they shook it, one after the other, all around, and cried. The +judge's wife she kissed it. Then the old man he signed a pledge--made +his mark. The judge said it was the holiest time on record, or something +like that. Then they tucked the old man into a beautiful room, which was +the spare room, and in the night some time he got powerful thirsty and +clumb out on to the porch-roof and slid down a stanchion and traded his +new coat for a jug of forty-rod, and clumb back again and had a good old +time; and towards daylight he crawled out again, drunk as a fiddler, and +rolled off the porch and broke his left arm in two places, and was most +froze to death when somebody found him after sun-up. And when they come +to look at that spare room they had to take soundings before they could +navigate it. + +The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform +the old man with a shotgun, maybe, but he didn't know no other way. + +CHAPTER VI. + +WELL, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went +for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he +went for me, too, for not stopping school. He catched me a couple of +times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged him +or outrun him most of the time. I didn't want to go to school much +before, but I reckoned I'd go now to spite pap. That law trial was a +slow business--appeared like they warn't ever going to get started on +it; so every now and then I'd borrow two or three dollars off of the +judge for him, to keep from getting a cowhiding. Every time he got money +he got drunk; and every time he got drunk he raised Cain around town; and +every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was just suited--this kind +of thing was right in his line. + +He got to hanging around the widow's too much and so she told him at last +that if he didn't quit using around there she would make trouble for him. +Well, WASN'T he mad? He said he would show who was Huck Finn's boss. So +he watched out for me one day in the spring, and catched me, and took me +up the river about three mile in a skiff, and crossed over to the +Illinois shore where it was woody and there warn't no houses but an old +log hut in a place where the timber was so thick you couldn't find it if +you didn't know where it was. + +He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. +We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key +under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon, and we +fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every little while he +locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to the ferry, and +traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and got drunk and +had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found out where I was by +and by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of me; but pap drove +him off with the gun, and it warn't long after that till I was used to +being where I was, and liked it--all but the cowhide part. + +It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking +and fishing, and no books nor study. Two months or more run along, and +my clothes got to be all rags and dirt, and I didn't see how I'd ever got +to like it so well at the widow's, where you had to wash, and eat on a +plate, and comb up, and go to bed and get up regular, and be forever +bothering over a book, and have old Miss Watson pecking at you all the +time. I didn't want to go back no more. I had stopped cussing, because +the widow didn't like it; but now I took to it again because pap hadn't +no objections. It was pretty good times up in the woods there, take it +all around. + +But by and by pap got too handy with his hick'ry, and I couldn't stand +it. I was all over welts. He got to going away so much, too, and locking +me in. Once he locked me in and was gone three days. It was dreadful +lonesome. I judged he had got drowned, and I wasn't ever going to get +out any more. I was scared. I made up my mind I would fix up some way +to leave there. I had tried to get out of that cabin many a time, but I +couldn't find no way. There warn't a window to it big enough for a dog +to get through. I couldn't get up the chimbly; it was too narrow. The +door was thick, solid oak slabs. Pap was pretty careful not to leave a +knife or anything in the cabin when he was away; I reckon I had hunted +the place over as much as a hundred times; well, I was most all the time +at it, because it was about the only way to put in the time. But this +time I found something at last; I found an old rusty wood-saw without any +handle; it was laid in between a rafter and the clapboards of the roof. +I greased it up and went to work. There was an old horse-blanket nailed +against the logs at the far end of the cabin behind the table, to keep +the wind from blowing through the chinks and putting the candle out. I +got under the table and raised the blanket, and went to work to saw a +section of the big bottom log out--big enough to let me through. Well, +it was a good long job, but I was getting towards the end of it when I +heard pap's gun in the woods. I got rid of the signs of my work, and +dropped the blanket and hid my saw, and pretty soon pap come in. + +Pap warn't in a good humor--so he was his natural self. He said he was +down town, and everything was going wrong. His lawyer said he reckoned +he would win his lawsuit and get the money if they ever got started on +the trial; but then there was ways to put it off a long time, and Judge +Thatcher knowed how to do it. And he said people allowed there'd be +another trial to get me away from him and give me to the widow for my +guardian, and they guessed it would win this time. This shook me up +considerable, because I didn't want to go back to the widow's any more +and be so cramped up and sivilized, as they called it. Then the old man +got to cussing, and cussed everything and everybody he could think of, +and then cussed them all over again to make sure he hadn't skipped any, +and after that he polished off with a kind of a general cuss all round, +including a considerable parcel of people which he didn't know the names +of, and so called them what's-his-name when he got to them, and went +right along with his cussing. + +He said he would like to see the widow get me. He said he would watch +out, and if they tried to come any such game on him he knowed of a place +six or seven mile off to stow me in, where they might hunt till they +dropped and they couldn't find me. That made me pretty uneasy again, but +only for a minute; I reckoned I wouldn't stay on hand till he got that +chance. + +The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had got. +There was a fifty-pound sack of corn meal, and a side of bacon, +ammunition, and a four-gallon jug of whisky, and an old book and two +newspapers for wadding, besides some tow. I toted up a load, and went +back and set down on the bow of the skiff to rest. I thought it all +over, and I reckoned I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and +take to the woods when I run away. I guessed I wouldn't stay in one +place, but just tramp right across the country, mostly night times, and +hunt and fish to keep alive, and so get so far away that the old man nor +the widow couldn't ever find me any more. I judged I would saw out and +leave that night if pap got drunk enough, and I reckoned he would. I got +so full of it I didn't notice how long I was staying till the old man +hollered and asked me whether I was asleep or drownded. + +I got the things all up to the cabin, and then it was about dark. While +I was cooking supper the old man took a swig or two and got sort of +warmed up, and went to ripping again. He had been drunk over in town, +and laid in the gutter all night, and he was a sight to look at. A body +would a thought he was Adam--he was just all mud. Whenever his liquor +begun to work he most always went for the govment, this time he says: + +"Call this a govment! why, just look at it and see what it's like. +Here's the law a-standing ready to take a man's son away from him--a +man's own son, which he has had all the trouble and all the anxiety and +all the expense of raising. Yes, just as that man has got that son +raised at last, and ready to go to work and begin to do suthin' for HIM +and give him a rest, the law up and goes for him. And they call THAT +govment! That ain't all, nuther. The law backs that old Judge Thatcher +up and helps him to keep me out o' my property. Here's what the law +does: The law takes a man worth six thousand dollars and up'ards, and +jams him into an old trap of a cabin like this, and lets him go round in +clothes that ain't fitten for a hog. They call that govment! A man can't +get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes I've a mighty notion to +just leave the country for good and all. Yes, and I TOLD 'em so; I told +old Thatcher so to his face. Lots of 'em heard me, and can tell what I +said. Says I, for two cents I'd leave the blamed country and never come +a-near it agin. Them's the very words. I says look at my hat--if you +call it a hat--but the lid raises up and the rest of it goes down till +it's below my chin, and then it ain't rightly a hat at all, but more like +my head was shoved up through a jint o' stove-pipe. Look at it, says I-- +such a hat for me to wear--one of the wealthiest men in this town if I +could git my rights. + +"Oh, yes, this is a wonderful govment, wonderful. Why, looky here. +There was a free nigger there from Ohio--a mulatter, most as white as a +white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too, and the +shiniest hat; and there ain't a man in that town that's got as fine +clothes as what he had; and he had a gold watch and chain, and a silver- +headed cane--the awfulest old gray-headed nabob in the State. And what +do you think? They said he was a p'fessor in a college, and could talk +all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain't the wust. +They said he could VOTE when he was at home. Well, that let me out. +Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to? It was 'lection day, and I +was just about to go and vote myself if I warn't too drunk to get there; +but when they told me there was a State in this country where they'd let +that nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I'll never vote agin. Them's the +very words I said; they all heard me; and the country may rot for all me +--I'll never vote agin as long as I live. And to see the cool way of +that +nigger--why, he wouldn't a give me the road if I hadn't shoved him out o' +the way. I says to the people, why ain't this nigger put up at auction +and sold?--that's what I want to know. And what do you reckon they said? +Why, they said he couldn't be sold till he'd been in the State six +months, and he hadn't been there that long yet. There, now--that's a +specimen. They call that a govment that can't sell a free nigger till +he's been in the State six months. Here's a govment that calls itself a +govment, and lets on to be a govment, and thinks it is a govment, and +yet's got to set stock-still for six whole months before it can take a +hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal, white-shirted free nigger, and--" + +Pap was agoing on so he never noticed where his old limber legs was +taking him to, so he went head over heels over the tub of salt pork and +barked both shins, and the rest of his speech was all the hottest kind of +language--mostly hove at the nigger and the govment, though he give the +tub some, too, all along, here and there. He hopped around the cabin +considerable, first on one leg and then on the other, holding first one +shin and then the other one, and at last he let out with his left foot +all of a sudden and fetched the tub a rattling kick. But it warn't good +judgment, because that was the boot that had a couple of his toes leaking +out of the front end of it; so now he raised a howl that fairly made a +body's hair raise, and down he went in the dirt, and rolled there, and +held his toes; and the cussing he done then laid over anything he had +ever done previous. He said so his own self afterwards. He had heard +old Sowberry Hagan in his best days, and he said it laid over him, too; +but I reckon that was sort of piling it on, maybe. + +After supper pap took the jug, and said he had enough whisky there for +two drunks and one delirium tremens. That was always his word. I judged +he would be blind drunk in about an hour, and then I would steal the key, +or saw myself out, one or t'other. He drank and drank, and tumbled down +on his blankets by and by; but luck didn't run my way. He didn't go +sound asleep, but was uneasy. He groaned and moaned and thrashed around +this way and that for a long time. At last I got so sleepy I couldn't +keep my eyes open all I could do, and so before I knowed what I was about +I was sound asleep, and the candle burning. + +I don't know how long I was asleep, but all of a sudden there was an +awful scream and I was up. There was pap looking wild, and skipping +around every which way and yelling about snakes. He said they was +crawling up his legs; and then he would give a jump and scream, and say +one had bit him on the cheek--but I couldn't see no snakes. He started +and run round and round the cabin, hollering "Take him off! take him off! +he's biting me on the neck!" I never see a man look so wild in the eyes. +Pretty soon he was all fagged out, and fell down panting; then he rolled +over and over wonderful fast, kicking things every which way, and +striking and grabbing at the air with his hands, and screaming and saying +there was devils a-hold of him. He wore out by and by, and laid still a +while, moaning. Then he laid stiller, and didn't make a sound. I could +hear the owls and the wolves away off in the woods, and it seemed +terrible still. He was laying over by the corner. By and by he raised up +part way and listened, with his head to one side. He says, very low: + +"Tramp--tramp--tramp; that's the dead; tramp--tramp--tramp; they're +coming after me; but I won't go. Oh, they're here! don't touch me-- +don't! hands off--they're cold; let go. Oh, let a poor devil alone!" + +Then he went down on all fours and crawled off, begging them to let him +alone, and he rolled himself up in his blanket and wallowed in under the +old pine table, still a-begging; and then he went to crying. I could +hear him through the blanket. + +By and by he rolled out and jumped up on his feet looking wild, and he +see me and went for me. He chased me round and round the place with a +clasp-knife, calling me the Angel of Death, and saying he would kill me, +and then I couldn't come for him no more. I begged, and told him I was +only Huck; but he laughed SUCH a screechy laugh, and roared and cussed, +and kept on chasing me up. Once when I turned short and dodged under his +arm he made a grab and got me by the jacket between my shoulders, and I +thought I was gone; but I slid out of the jacket quick as lightning, and +saved myself. Pretty soon he was all tired out, and dropped down with his +back against the door, and said he would rest a minute and then kill me. +He put his knife under him, and said he would sleep and get strong, and +then he would see who was who. + +So he dozed off pretty soon. By and by I got the old split-bottom chair +and clumb up as easy as I could, not to make any noise, and got down the +gun. I slipped the ramrod down it to make sure it was loaded, then I +laid it across the turnip barrel, pointing towards pap, and set down +behind it to wait for him to stir. And how slow and still the time did +drag along. + +CHAPTER VII. + +"GIT up! What you 'bout?" + +I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to make out where I was. It +was after sun-up, and I had been sound asleep. Pap was standing over me +looking sour and sick, too. He says: + +"What you doin' with this gun?" + +I judged he didn't know nothing about what he had been doing, so I says: + +"Somebody tried to get in, so I was laying for him." + +"Why didn't you roust me out?" + +"Well, I tried to, but I couldn't; I couldn't budge you." + +"Well, all right. Don't stand there palavering all day, but out with you +and see if there's a fish on the lines for breakfast. I'll be along in a +minute." + +He unlocked the door, and I cleared out up the river-bank. I noticed +some pieces of limbs and such things floating down, and a sprinkling of +bark; so I knowed the river had begun to rise. I reckoned I would have +great times now if I was over at the town. The June rise used to be +always luck for me; because as soon as that rise begins here comes +cordwood floating down, and pieces of log rafts--sometimes a dozen logs +together; so all you have to do is to catch them and sell them to the +wood-yards and the sawmill. + +I went along up the bank with one eye out for pap and t'other one out for +what the rise might fetch along. Well, all at once here comes a canoe; +just a beauty, too, about thirteen or fourteen foot long, riding high +like a duck. I shot head-first off of the bank like a frog, clothes and +all on, and struck out for the canoe. I just expected there'd be +somebody laying down in it, because people often done that to fool folks, +and when a chap had pulled a skiff out most to it they'd raise up and +laugh at him. But it warn't so this time. It was a drift-canoe sure +enough, and I clumb in and paddled her ashore. Thinks I, the old man +will be glad when he sees this--she's worth ten dollars. But when I +got to shore pap wasn't in sight yet, and as I was running her into a +little creek like a gully, all hung over with vines and willows, I struck +another idea: I judged I'd hide her good, and then, 'stead of taking to +the woods when I run off, I'd go down the river about fifty mile and camp +in one place for good, and not have such a rough time tramping on foot. + +It was pretty close to the shanty, and I thought I heard the old man +coming all the time; but I got her hid; and then I out and looked around +a bunch of willows, and there was the old man down the path a piece just +drawing a bead on a bird with his gun. So he hadn't seen anything. + +When he got along I was hard at it taking up a "trot" line. He abused me +a little for being so slow; but I told him I fell in the river, and that +was what made me so long. I knowed he would see I was wet, and then he +would be asking questions. We got five catfish off the lines and went +home. + +While we laid off after breakfast to sleep up, both of us being about +wore out, I got to thinking that if I could fix up some way to keep pap +and the widow from trying to follow me, it would be a certainer thing +than trusting to luck to get far enough off before they missed me; you +see, all kinds of things might happen. Well, I didn't see no way for a +while, but by and by pap raised up a minute to drink another barrel of +water, and he says: + +"Another time a man comes a-prowling round here you roust me out, you +hear? That man warn't here for no good. I'd a shot him. Next time you +roust me out, you hear?" + +Then he dropped down and went to sleep again; but what he had been saying +give me the very idea I wanted. I says to myself, I can fix it now so +nobody won't think of following me. + +About twelve o'clock we turned out and went along up the bank. The river +was coming up pretty fast, and lots of driftwood going by on the rise. +By and by along comes part of a log raft--nine logs fast together. We +went out with the skiff and towed it ashore. Then we had dinner. +Anybody but pap would a waited and seen the day through, so as to catch +more stuff; but that warn't pap's style. Nine logs was enough for one +time; he must shove right over to town and sell. So he locked me in and +took the skiff, and started off towing the raft about half-past three. I +judged he wouldn't come back that night. I waited till I reckoned he had +got a good start; then I out with my saw, and went to work on that log +again. Before he was t'other side of the river I was out of the hole; +him and his raft was just a speck on the water away off yonder. + +I took the sack of corn meal and took it to where the canoe was hid, and +shoved the vines and branches apart and put it in; then I done the same +with the side of bacon; then the whisky-jug. I took all the coffee and +sugar there was, and all the ammunition; I took the wadding; I took the +bucket and gourd; I took a dipper and a tin cup, and my old saw and two +blankets, and the skillet and the coffee-pot. I took fish-lines and +matches and other things--everything that was worth a cent. I cleaned +out the place. I wanted an axe, but there wasn't any, only the one out +at the woodpile, and I knowed why I was going to leave that. I fetched +out the gun, and now I was done. + +I had wore the ground a good deal crawling out of the hole and dragging +out so many things. So I fixed that as good as I could from the outside +by scattering dust on the place, which covered up the smoothness and the +sawdust. Then I fixed the piece of log back into its place, and put two +rocks under it and one against it to hold it there, for it was bent up at +that place and didn't quite touch ground. If you stood four or five foot +away and didn't know it was sawed, you wouldn't never notice it; and +besides, this was the back of the cabin, and it warn't likely anybody +would go fooling around there. + +It was all grass clear to the canoe, so I hadn't left a track. I +followed around to see. I stood on the bank and looked out over the +river. All safe. So I took the gun and went up a piece into the woods, +and was hunting around for some birds when I see a wild pig; hogs soon +went wild in them bottoms after they had got away from the prairie farms. +I shot this fellow and took him into camp. + +I took the axe and smashed in the door. I beat it and hacked it +considerable a-doing it. I fetched the pig in, and took him back nearly +to the table and hacked into his throat with the axe, and laid him down +on the ground to bleed; I say ground because it was ground--hard packed, +and no boards. Well, next I took an old sack and put a lot of big rocks +in it--all I could drag--and I started it from the pig, and dragged it +to the door and through the woods down to the river and dumped it in, and +down it sunk, out of sight. You could easy see that something had been +dragged over the ground. I did wish Tom Sawyer was there; I knowed he +would take an interest in this kind of business, and throw in the fancy +touches. Nobody could spread himself like Tom Sawyer in such a thing as +that. + +Well, last I pulled out some of my hair, and blooded the axe good, and +stuck it on the back side, and slung the axe in the corner. Then I took +up the pig and held him to my breast with my jacket (so he couldn't drip) +till I got a good piece below the house and then dumped him into the +river. Now I thought of something else. So I went and got the bag of +meal and my old saw out of the canoe, and fetched them to the house. I +took the bag to where it used to stand, and ripped a hole in the bottom +of it with the saw, for there warn't no knives and forks on the place-- +pap done everything with his clasp-knife about the cooking. Then I +carried the sack about a hundred yards across the grass and through the +willows east of the house, to a shallow lake that was five mile wide and +full of rushes--and ducks too, you might say, in the season. There was a +slough or a creek leading out of it on the other side that went miles +away, I don't know where, but it didn't go to the river. The meal sifted +out and made a little track all the way to the lake. I dropped pap's +whetstone there too, so as to look like it had been done by accident. +Then I tied up the rip in the meal sack with a string, so it wouldn't +leak no more, and took it and my saw to the canoe again. + +It was about dark now; so I dropped the canoe down the river under some +willows that hung over the bank, and waited for the moon to rise. I made +fast to a willow; then I took a bite to eat, and by and by laid down in +the canoe to smoke a pipe and lay out a plan. I says to myself, they'll +follow the track of that sackful of rocks to the shore and then drag the +river for me. And they'll follow that meal track to the lake and go +browsing down the creek that leads out of it to find the robbers that +killed me and took the things. They won't ever hunt the river for +anything but my dead carcass. They'll soon get tired of that, and won't +bother no more about me. All right; I can stop anywhere I want to. +Jackson's Island is good enough for me; I know that island pretty well, +and nobody ever comes there. And then I can paddle over to town nights, +and slink around and pick up things I want. Jackson's Island's the place. + +I was pretty tired, and the first thing I knowed I was asleep. When I +woke up I didn't know where I was for a minute. I set up and looked +around, a little scared. Then I remembered. The river looked miles and +miles across. The moon was so bright I could a counted the drift logs +that went a-slipping along, black and still, hundreds of yards out from +shore. Everything was dead quiet, and it looked late, and SMELT late. +You know what I mean--I don't know the words to put it in. + +I took a good gap and a stretch, and was just going to unhitch and start +when I heard a sound away over the water. I listened. Pretty soon I +made it out. It was that dull kind of a regular sound that comes from +oars working in rowlocks when it's a still night. I peeped out through +the willow branches, and there it was--a skiff, away across the water. I +couldn't tell how many was in it. It kept a-coming, and when it was +abreast of me I see there warn't but one man in it. Think's I, maybe +it's pap, though I warn't expecting him. He dropped below me with the +current, and by and by he came a-swinging up shore in the easy water, and +he went by so close I could a reached out the gun and touched him. Well, +it WAS pap, sure enough--and sober, too, by the way he laid his oars. + +I didn't lose no time. The next minute I was a-spinning down stream soft +but quick in the shade of the bank. I made two mile and a half, and then +struck out a quarter of a mile or more towards the middle of the river, +because pretty soon I would be passing the ferry landing, and people +might see me and hail me. I got out amongst the driftwood, and then laid +down in the bottom of the canoe and let her float. I laid there, and had +a good rest and a smoke out of my pipe, looking away into the sky; not a +cloud in it. The sky looks ever so deep when you lay down on your back +in the moonshine; I never knowed it before. And how far a body can hear +on the water such nights! I heard people talking at the ferry landing. +I heard what they said, too--every word of it. One man said it was +getting towards the long days and the short nights now. T'other one said +THIS warn't one of the short ones, he reckoned--and then they laughed, +and he said it over again, and they laughed again; then they waked up +another fellow and told him, and laughed, but he didn't laugh; he ripped +out something brisk, and said let him alone. The first fellow said he +'lowed to tell it to his old woman--she would think it was pretty good; +but he said that warn't nothing to some things he had said in his time. +I heard one man say it was nearly three o'clock, and he hoped daylight +wouldn't wait more than about a week longer. After that the talk got +further and further away, and I couldn't make out the words any more; but +I could hear the mumble, and now and then a laugh, too, but it seemed a +long ways off. + +I was away below the ferry now. I rose up, and there was Jackson's +Island, about two mile and a half down stream, heavy timbered and +standing up out of the middle of the river, big and dark and solid, like +a steamboat without any lights. There warn't any signs of the bar at the +head--it was all under water now. + +It didn't take me long to get there. I shot past the head at a ripping +rate, the current was so swift, and then I got into the dead water and +landed on the side towards the Illinois shore. I run the canoe into a +deep dent in the bank that I knowed about; I had to part the willow +branches to get in; and when I made fast nobody could a seen the canoe +from the outside. + +I went up and set down on a log at the head of the island, and looked out +on the big river and the black driftwood and away over to the town, three +mile away, where there was three or four lights twinkling. A monstrous +big lumber-raft was about a mile up stream, coming along down, with a +lantern in the middle of it. I watched it come creeping down, and when +it was most abreast of where I stood I heard a man say, "Stern oars, +there! heave her head to stabboard!" I heard that just as plain as if +the man was by my side. + +There was a little gray in the sky now; so I stepped into the woods, and +laid down for a nap before breakfast. + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE sun was up so high when I waked that I judged it was after eight +o'clock. I laid there in the grass and the cool shade thinking about +things, and feeling rested and ruther comfortable and satisfied. I could +see the sun out at one or two holes, but mostly it was big trees all +about, and gloomy in there amongst them. There was freckled places on +the ground where the light sifted down through the leaves, and the +freckled places swapped about a little, showing there was a little breeze +up there. A couple of squirrels set on a limb and jabbered at me very +friendly. + +I was powerful lazy and comfortable--didn't want to get up and cook +breakfast. Well, I was dozing off again when I thinks I hears a deep +sound of "boom!" away up the river. I rouses up, and rests on my elbow +and listens; pretty soon I hears it again. I hopped up, and went and +looked out at a hole in the leaves, and I see a bunch of smoke laying on +the water a long ways up--about abreast the ferry. And there was the +ferryboat full of people floating along down. I knowed what was the +matter now. "Boom!" I see the white smoke squirt out of the ferryboat's +side. You see, they was firing cannon over the water, trying to make my +carcass come to the top. + +I was pretty hungry, but it warn't going to do for me to start a fire, +because they might see the smoke. So I set there and watched the cannon- +smoke and listened to the boom. The river was a mile wide there, and it +always looks pretty on a summer morning--so I was having a good enough +time seeing them hunt for my remainders if I only had a bite to eat. +Well, then I happened to think how they always put quicksilver in loaves +of bread and float them off, because they always go right to the drownded +carcass and stop there. So, says I, I'll keep a lookout, and if any of +them's floating around after me I'll give them a show. I changed to the +Illinois edge of the island to see what luck I could have, and I warn't +disappointed. A big double loaf come along, and I most got it with a +long stick, but my foot slipped and she floated out further. Of course I +was where the current set in the closest to the shore--I knowed enough +for that. But by and by along comes another one, and this time I won. I +took out the plug and shook out the little dab of quicksilver, and set my +teeth in. It was "baker's bread"--what the quality eat; none of your +low-down corn-pone. + +I got a good place amongst the leaves, and set there on a log, munching +the bread and watching the ferry-boat, and very well satisfied. And then +something struck me. I says, now I reckon the widow or the parson or +somebody prayed that this bread would find me, and here it has gone and +done it. So there ain't no doubt but there is something in that thing-- +that is, there's something in it when a body like the widow or the parson +prays, but it don't work for me, and I reckon it don't work for only just +the right kind. + +I lit a pipe and had a good long smoke, and went on watching. The +ferryboat was floating with the current, and I allowed I'd have a chance +to see who was aboard when she come along, because she would come in +close, where the bread did. When she'd got pretty well along down +towards me, I put out my pipe and went to where I fished out the bread, +and laid down behind a log on the bank in a little open place. Where the +log forked I could peep through. + +By and by she come along, and she drifted in so close that they could a +run out a plank and walked ashore. Most everybody was on the boat. Pap, +and Judge Thatcher, and Bessie Thatcher, and Jo Harper, and Tom Sawyer, +and his old Aunt Polly, and Sid and Mary, and plenty more. Everybody was +talking about the murder, but the captain broke in and says: + +"Look sharp, now; the current sets in the closest here, and maybe he's +washed ashore and got tangled amongst the brush at the water's edge. I +hope so, anyway." + +"I didn't hope so. They all crowded up and leaned over the rails, nearly +in my face, and kept still, watching with all their might. I could see +them first-rate, but they couldn't see me. Then the captain sung out: + +"Stand away!" and the cannon let off such a blast right before me that it +made me deef with the noise and pretty near blind with the smoke, and I +judged I was gone. If they'd a had some bullets in, I reckon they'd a +got the corpse they was after. Well, I see I warn't hurt, thanks to +goodness. The boat floated on and went out of sight around the shoulder +of the island. I could hear the booming now and then, further and +further off, and by and by, after an hour, I didn't hear it no more. The +island was three mile long. I judged they had got to the foot, and was +giving it up. But they didn't yet a while. They turned around the foot +of the island and started up the channel on the Missouri side, under +steam, and booming once in a while as they went. I crossed over to that +side and watched them. When they got abreast the head of the island they +quit shooting and dropped over to the Missouri shore and went home to the +town. + +I knowed I was all right now. Nobody else would come a-hunting after me. +I got my traps out of the canoe and made me a nice camp in the thick +woods. I made a kind of a tent out of my blankets to put my things under +so the rain couldn't get at them. I catched a catfish and haggled him +open with my saw, and towards sundown I started my camp fire and had +supper. Then I set out a line to catch some fish for breakfast. + +When it was dark I set by my camp fire smoking, and feeling pretty well +satisfied; but by and by it got sort of lonesome, and so I went and set +on the bank and listened to the current swashing along, and counted the +stars and drift logs and rafts that come down, and then went to bed; +there ain't no better way to put in time when you are lonesome; you can't +stay so, you soon get over it. + +And so for three days and nights. No difference--just the same thing. +But the next day I went exploring around down through the island. I was +boss of it; it all belonged to me, so to say, and I wanted to know all +about it; but mainly I wanted to put in the time. I found plenty +strawberries, ripe and prime; and green summer grapes, and green +razberries; and the green blackberries was just beginning to show. They +would all come handy by and by, I judged. + +Well, I went fooling along in the deep woods till I judged I warn't far +from the foot of the island. I had my gun along, but I hadn't shot +nothing; it was for protection; thought I would kill some game nigh home. +About this time I mighty near stepped on a good-sized snake, and it went +sliding off through the grass and flowers, and I after it, trying to get +a shot at it. I clipped along, and all of a sudden I bounded right on to +the ashes of a camp fire that was still smoking. + +My heart jumped up amongst my lungs. I never waited for to look further, +but uncocked my gun and went sneaking back on my tiptoes as fast as ever +I could. Every now and then I stopped a second amongst the thick leaves +and listened, but my breath come so hard I couldn't hear nothing else. I +slunk along another piece further, then listened again; and so on, and so +on. If I see a stump, I took it for a man; if I trod on a stick and +broke it, it made me feel like a person had cut one of my breaths in two +and I only got half, and the short half, too. + +When I got to camp I warn't feeling very brash, there warn't much sand in +my craw; but I says, this ain't no time to be fooling around. So I got +all my traps into my canoe again so as to have them out of sight, and I +put out the fire and scattered the ashes around to look like an old last +year's camp, and then clumb a tree. + +I reckon I was up in the tree two hours; but I didn't see nothing, I +didn't hear nothing--I only THOUGHT I heard and seen as much as a +thousand things. Well, I couldn't stay up there forever; so at last I +got down, but I kept in the thick woods and on the lookout all the time. +All I could get to eat was berries and what was left over from breakfast. + +By the time it was night I was pretty hungry. So when it was good and +dark I slid out from shore before moonrise and paddled over to the +Illinois bank--about a quarter of a mile. I went out in the woods and +cooked a supper, and I had about made up my mind I would stay there all +night when I hear a PLUNKETY-PLUNK, PLUNKETY-PLUNK, and says to myself, +horses coming; and next I hear people's voices. I got everything into +the canoe as quick as I could, and then went creeping through the woods +to see what I could find out. I hadn't got far when I hear a man say: + +"We better camp here if we can find a good place; the horses is about +beat out. Let's look around." + +I didn't wait, but shoved out and paddled away easy. I tied up in the +old place, and reckoned I would sleep in the canoe. + +I didn't sleep much. I couldn't, somehow, for thinking. And every time +I waked up I thought somebody had me by the neck. So the sleep didn't do +me no good. By and by I says to myself, I can't live this way; I'm a- +going to find out who it is that's here on the island with me; I'll find +it out or bust. Well, I felt better right off. + +So I took my paddle and slid out from shore just a step or two, and then +let the canoe drop along down amongst the shadows. The moon was shining, +and outside of the shadows it made it most as light as day. I poked +along well on to an hour, everything still as rocks and sound asleep. +Well, by this time I was most down to the foot of the island. A little +ripply, cool breeze begun to blow, and that was as good as saying the +night was about done. I give her a turn with the paddle and brung her +nose to shore; then I got my gun and slipped out and into the edge of the +woods. I sat down there on a log, and looked out through the leaves. I +see the moon go off watch, and the darkness begin to blanket the river. +But in a little while I see a pale streak over the treetops, and knowed +the day was coming. So I took my gun and slipped off towards where I had +run across that camp fire, stopping every minute or two to listen. But I +hadn't no luck somehow; I couldn't seem to find the place. But by and +by, sure enough, I catched a glimpse of fire away through the trees. I +went for it, cautious and slow. By and by I was close enough to have a +look, and there laid a man on the ground. It most give me the fantods. +He had a blanket around his head, and his head was nearly in the fire. I +set there behind a clump of bushes in about six foot of him, and kept my +eyes on him steady. It was getting gray daylight now. Pretty soon he +gapped and stretched himself and hove off the blanket, and it was Miss +Watson's Jim! I bet I was glad to see him. I says: + +"Hello, Jim!" and skipped out. + +He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees, +and puts his hands together and says: + +"Doan' hurt me--don't! I hain't ever done no harm to a ghos'. I alwuz +liked dead people, en done all I could for 'em. You go en git in de +river agin, whah you b'longs, en doan' do nuffn to Ole Jim, 'at 'uz awluz +yo' fren'." + +Well, I warn't long making him understand I warn't dead. I was ever so +glad to see Jim. I warn't lonesome now. I told him I warn't afraid of +HIM telling the people where I was. I talked along, but he only set +there and looked at me; never said nothing. Then I says: + +"It's good daylight. Le's get breakfast. Make up your camp fire good." + +"What's de use er makin' up de camp fire to cook strawbries en sich +truck? But you got a gun, hain't you? Den we kin git sumfn better den +strawbries." + +"Strawberries and such truck," I says. "Is that what you live on?" + +"I couldn' git nuffn else," he says. + +"Why, how long you been on the island, Jim?" + +"I come heah de night arter you's killed." + +"What, all that time?" + +"Yes--indeedy." + +"And ain't you had nothing but that kind of rubbage to eat?" + +"No, sah--nuffn else." + +"Well, you must be most starved, ain't you?" + +"I reck'n I could eat a hoss. I think I could. How long you ben on de +islan'?" + +"Since the night I got killed." + +"No! W'y, what has you lived on? But you got a gun. Oh, yes, you got a +gun. Dat's good. Now you kill sumfn en I'll make up de fire." + +So we went over to where the canoe was, and while he built a fire in a +grassy open place amongst the trees, I fetched meal and bacon and coffee, +and coffee-pot and frying-pan, and sugar and tin cups, and the nigger was +set back considerable, because he reckoned it was all done with +witchcraft. I catched a good big catfish, too, and Jim cleaned him with +his knife, and fried him. + +When breakfast was ready we lolled on the grass and eat it smoking hot. +Jim laid it in with all his might, for he was most about starved. Then +when we had got pretty well stuffed, we laid off and lazied. By and by +Jim says: + +"But looky here, Huck, who wuz it dat 'uz killed in dat shanty ef it +warn't you?" + +Then I told him the whole thing, and he said it was smart. He said Tom +Sawyer couldn't get up no better plan than what I had. Then I says: + +"How do you come to be here, Jim, and how'd you get here?" + +He looked pretty uneasy, and didn't say nothing for a minute. Then he +says: + +"Maybe I better not tell." + +"Why, Jim?" + +"Well, dey's reasons. But you wouldn' tell on me ef I uz to tell you, +would you, Huck?" + +"Blamed if I would, Jim." + +"Well, I b'lieve you, Huck. I--I RUN OFF." + +"Jim!" + +"But mind, you said you wouldn' tell--you know you said you wouldn' tell, +Huck." + +"Well, I did. I said I wouldn't, and I'll stick to it. Honest INJUN, I +will. People would call me a low-down Abolitionist and despise me for +keeping mum--but that don't make no difference. I ain't a-going to tell, +and I ain't a-going back there, anyways. So, now, le's know all about +it." + +"Well, you see, it 'uz dis way. Ole missus--dat's Miss Watson--she pecks +on me all de time, en treats me pooty rough, but she awluz said she +wouldn' sell me down to Orleans. But I noticed dey wuz a nigger trader +roun' de place considable lately, en I begin to git oneasy. Well, one +night I creeps to de do' pooty late, en de do' warn't quite shet, en I +hear old missus tell de widder she gwyne to sell me down to Orleans, but +she didn' want to, but she could git eight hund'd dollars for me, en it +'uz sich a big stack o' money she couldn' resis'. De widder she try to +git her to say she wouldn' do it, but I never waited to hear de res'. I +lit out mighty quick, I tell you. + +"I tuck out en shin down de hill, en 'spec to steal a skift 'long de sho' +som'ers 'bove de town, but dey wuz people a-stirring yit, so I hid in de +ole tumble-down cooper-shop on de bank to wait for everybody to go 'way. +Well, I wuz dah all night. Dey wuz somebody roun' all de time. 'Long +'bout six in de mawnin' skifts begin to go by, en 'bout eight er nine +every skift dat went 'long wuz talkin' 'bout how yo' pap come over to de +town en say you's killed. Dese las' skifts wuz full o' ladies en genlmen +a-goin' over for to see de place. Sometimes dey'd pull up at de sho' en +take a res' b'fo' dey started acrost, so by de talk I got to know all +'bout de killin'. I 'uz powerful sorry you's killed, Huck, but I ain't +no mo' now. + +"I laid dah under de shavin's all day. I 'uz hungry, but I warn't +afeard; bekase I knowed ole missus en de widder wuz goin' to start to de +camp-meet'n' right arter breakfas' en be gone all day, en dey knows I +goes off wid de cattle 'bout daylight, so dey wouldn' 'spec to see me +roun' de place, en so dey wouldn' miss me tell arter dark in de evenin'. +De yuther servants wouldn' miss me, kase dey'd shin out en take holiday +soon as de ole folks 'uz out'n de way. + +"Well, when it come dark I tuck out up de river road, en went 'bout two +mile er more to whah dey warn't no houses. I'd made up my mine 'bout +what I's agwyne to do. You see, ef I kep' on tryin' to git away afoot, +de dogs 'ud track me; ef I stole a skift to cross over, dey'd miss dat +skift, you see, en dey'd know 'bout whah I'd lan' on de yuther side, en +whah to pick up my track. So I says, a raff is what I's arter; it doan' +MAKE no track. + +"I see a light a-comin' roun' de p'int bymeby, so I wade' in en shove' a +log ahead o' me en swum more'n half way acrost de river, en got in +'mongst de drift-wood, en kep' my head down low, en kinder swum agin de +current tell de raff come along. Den I swum to de stern uv it en tuck a- +holt. It clouded up en 'uz pooty dark for a little while. So I clumb up +en laid down on de planks. De men 'uz all 'way yonder in de middle, whah +de lantern wuz. De river wuz a-risin', en dey wuz a good current; so I +reck'n'd 'at by fo' in de mawnin' I'd be twenty-five mile down de river, +en den I'd slip in jis b'fo' daylight en swim asho', en take to de woods +on de Illinois side. + +"But I didn' have no luck. When we 'uz mos' down to de head er de islan' +a man begin to come aft wid de lantern, I see it warn't no use fer to +wait, so I slid overboard en struck out fer de islan'. Well, I had a +notion I could lan' mos' anywhers, but I couldn't--bank too bluff. I 'uz +mos' to de foot er de islan' b'fo' I found' a good place. I went into de +woods en jedged I wouldn' fool wid raffs no mo', long as dey move de +lantern roun' so. I had my pipe en a plug er dog-leg, en some matches in +my cap, en dey warn't wet, so I 'uz all right." + +"And so you ain't had no meat nor bread to eat all this time? Why didn't +you get mud-turkles?" + +"How you gwyne to git 'm? You can't slip up on um en grab um; en how's a +body gwyne to hit um wid a rock? How could a body do it in de night? En +I warn't gwyne to show mysef on de bank in de daytime." + +"Well, that's so. You've had to keep in the woods all the time, of +course. Did you hear 'em shooting the cannon?" + +"Oh, yes. I knowed dey was arter you. I see um go by heah--watched um +thoo de bushes." + +Some young birds come along, flying a yard or two at a time and lighting. +Jim said it was a sign it was going to rain. He said it was a sign when +young chickens flew that way, and so he reckoned it was the same way when +young birds done it. I was going to catch some of them, but Jim wouldn't +let me. He said it was death. He said his father laid mighty sick once, +and some of them catched a bird, and his old granny said his father would +die, and he did. + +And Jim said you mustn't count the things you are going to cook for +dinner, because that would bring bad luck. The same if you shook the +table-cloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive and that +man died, the bees must be told about it before sun-up next morning, or +else the bees would all weaken down and quit work and die. Jim said bees +wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because I had tried +them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me. + +I had heard about some of these things before, but not all of them. Jim +knowed all kinds of signs. He said he knowed most everything. I said it +looked to me like all the signs was about bad luck, and so I asked him if +there warn't any good-luck signs. He says: + +"Mighty few--an' DEY ain't no use to a body. What you want to know when +good luck's a-comin' for? Want to keep it off?" And he said: "Ef you's +got hairy arms en a hairy breas', it's a sign dat you's agwyne to be +rich. Well, dey's some use in a sign like dat, 'kase it's so fur ahead. +You see, maybe you's got to be po' a long time fust, en so you might git +discourage' en kill yo'sef 'f you didn' know by de sign dat you gwyne to +be rich bymeby." + +"Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?" + +"What's de use to ax dat question? Don't you see I has?" + +"Well, are you rich?" + +"No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich agin. Wunst I had foteen +dollars, but I tuck to specalat'n', en got busted out." + +"What did you speculate in, Jim?" + +"Well, fust I tackled stock." + +"What kind of stock?" + +"Why, live stock--cattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But I +ain' gwyne to resk no mo' money in stock. De cow up 'n' died on my +han's." + +"So you lost the ten dollars." + +"No, I didn't lose it all. I on'y los' 'bout nine of it. I sole de hide +en taller for a dollar en ten cents." + +"You had five dollars and ten cents left. Did you speculate any more?" + +"Yes. You know that one-laigged nigger dat b'longs to old Misto Bradish? +Well, he sot up a bank, en say anybody dat put in a dollar would git fo' +dollars mo' at de en' er de year. Well, all de niggers went in, but dey +didn't have much. I wuz de on'y one dat had much. So I stuck out for +mo' dan fo' dollars, en I said 'f I didn' git it I'd start a bank mysef. +Well, o' course dat nigger want' to keep me out er de business, bekase he +says dey warn't business 'nough for two banks, so he say I could put in +my five dollars en he pay me thirty-five at de en' er de year. + +"So I done it. Den I reck'n'd I'd inves' de thirty-five dollars right +off en keep things a-movin'. Dey wuz a nigger name' Bob, dat had ketched +a wood-flat, en his marster didn' know it; en I bought it off'n him en +told him to take de thirty-five dollars when de en' er de year come; but +somebody stole de wood-flat dat night, en nex day de one-laigged nigger +say de bank's busted. So dey didn' none uv us git no money." + +"What did you do with the ten cents, Jim?" + +"Well, I 'uz gwyne to spen' it, but I had a dream, en de dream tole me to +give it to a nigger name' Balum--Balum's Ass dey call him for short; he's +one er dem chuckleheads, you know. But he's lucky, dey say, en I see I +warn't lucky. De dream say let Balum inves' de ten cents en he'd make a +raise for me. Well, Balum he tuck de money, en when he wuz in church he +hear de preacher say dat whoever give to de po' len' to de Lord, en boun' +to git his money back a hund'd times. So Balum he tuck en give de ten +cents to de po', en laid low to see what wuz gwyne to come of it." + +"Well, what did come of it, Jim?" + +"Nuffn never come of it. I couldn' manage to k'leck dat money no way; en +Balum he couldn'. I ain' gwyne to len' no mo' money 'dout I see de +security. Boun' to git yo' money back a hund'd times, de preacher says! +Ef I could git de ten CENTS back, I'd call it squah, en be glad er de +chanst." + +"Well, it's all right anyway, Jim, long as you're going to be rich again +some time or other." + +"Yes; en I's rich now, come to look at it. I owns mysef, en I's wuth +eight hund'd dollars. I wisht I had de money, I wouldn' want no mo'." + +CHAPTER IX. + +I WANTED to go and look at a place right about the middle of the island +that I'd found when I was exploring; so we started and soon got to it, +because the island was only three miles long and a quarter of a mile +wide. + +This place was a tolerable long, steep hill or ridge about forty foot +high. We had a rough time getting to the top, the sides was so steep and +the bushes so thick. We tramped and clumb around all over it, and by and +by found a good big cavern in the rock, most up to the top on the side +towards Illinois. The cavern was as big as two or three rooms bunched +together, and Jim could stand up straight in it. It was cool in there. +Jim was for putting our traps in there right away, but I said we didn't +want to be climbing up and down there all the time. + +Jim said if we had the canoe hid in a good place, and had all the traps +in the cavern, we could rush there if anybody was to come to the island, +and they would never find us without dogs. And, besides, he said them +little birds had said it was going to rain, and did I want the things to +get wet? + +So we went back and got the canoe, and paddled up abreast the cavern, and +lugged all the traps up there. Then we hunted up a place close by to +hide the canoe in, amongst the thick willows. We took some fish off of +the lines and set them again, and begun to get ready for dinner. + +The door of the cavern was big enough to roll a hogshead in, and on one +side of the door the floor stuck out a little bit, and was flat and a +good place to build a fire on. So we built it there and cooked dinner. + +We spread the blankets inside for a carpet, and eat our dinner in there. +We put all the other things handy at the back of the cavern. Pretty soon +it darkened up, and begun to thunder and lighten; so the birds was right +about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like all fury, too, +and I never see the wind blow so. It was one of these regular summer +storms. It would get so dark that it looked all blue-black outside, and +lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees off a +little ways looked dim and spider-webby; and here would come a blast of +wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the pale underside of the +leaves; and then a perfect ripper of a gust would follow along and set +the branches to tossing their arms as if they was just wild; and next, +when it was just about the bluest and blackest--FST! it was as bright as +glory, and you'd have a little glimpse of tree-tops a-plunging about away +off yonder in the storm, hundreds of yards further than you could see +before; dark as sin again in a second, and now you'd hear the thunder let +go with an awful crash, and then go rumbling, grumbling, tumbling, down +the sky towards the under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels +down stairs--where it's long stairs and they bounce a good deal, you +know. + +"Jim, this is nice," I says. "I wouldn't want to be nowhere else but +here. Pass me along another hunk of fish and some hot corn-bread." + +"Well, you wouldn't a ben here 'f it hadn't a ben for Jim. You'd a ben +down dah in de woods widout any dinner, en gittn' mos' drownded, too; dat +you would, honey. Chickens knows when it's gwyne to rain, en so do de +birds, chile." + +The river went on raising and raising for ten or twelve days, till at +last it was over the banks. The water was three or four foot deep on the +island in the low places and on the Illinois bottom. On that side it was +a good many miles wide, but on the Missouri side it was the same old +distance across--a half a mile--because the Missouri shore was just a +wall of high bluffs. + +Daytimes we paddled all over the island in the canoe, It was mighty cool +and shady in the deep woods, even if the sun was blazing outside. We +went winding in and out amongst the trees, and sometimes the vines hung +so thick we had to back away and go some other way. Well, on every old +broken-down tree you could see rabbits and snakes and such things; and +when the island had been overflowed a day or two they got so tame, on +account of being hungry, that you could paddle right up and put your hand +on them if you wanted to; but not the snakes and turtles--they would +slide off in the water. The ridge our cavern was in was full of them. +We could a had pets enough if we'd wanted them. + +One night we catched a little section of a lumber raft--nice pine planks. +It was twelve foot wide and about fifteen or sixteen foot long, and the +top stood above water six or seven inches--a solid, level floor. We +could see saw-logs go by in the daylight sometimes, but we let them go; +we didn't show ourselves in daylight. + +Another night when we was up at the head of the island, just before +daylight, here comes a frame-house down, on the west side. She was a +two-story, and tilted over considerable. We paddled out and got aboard-- +clumb in at an upstairs window. But it was too dark to see yet, so we +made the canoe fast and set in her to wait for daylight. + +The light begun to come before we got to the foot of the island. Then we +looked in at the window. We could make out a bed, and a table, and two +old chairs, and lots of things around about on the floor, and there was +clothes hanging against the wall. There was something laying on the +floor in the far corner that looked like a man. So Jim says: + +"Hello, you!" + +But it didn't budge. So I hollered again, and then Jim says: + +"De man ain't asleep--he's dead. You hold still--I'll go en see." + +He went, and bent down and looked, and says: + +"It's a dead man. Yes, indeedy; naked, too. He's ben shot in de back. +I reck'n he's ben dead two er three days. Come in, Huck, but doan' look +at his face--it's too gashly." + +I didn't look at him at all. Jim throwed some old rags over him, but he +needn't done it; I didn't want to see him. There was heaps of old greasy +cards scattered around over the floor, and old whisky bottles, and a +couple of masks made out of black cloth; and all over the walls was the +ignorantest kind of words and pictures made with charcoal. There was two +old dirty calico dresses, and a sun-bonnet, and some women's underclothes +hanging against the wall, and some men's clothing, too. We put the lot +into the canoe--it might come good. There was a boy's old speckled straw +hat on the floor; I took that, too. And there was a bottle that had had +milk in it, and it had a rag stopper for a baby to suck. We would a took +the bottle, but it was broke. There was a seedy old chest, and an old +hair trunk with the hinges broke. They stood open, but there warn't +nothing left in them that was any account. The way things was scattered +about we reckoned the people left in a hurry, and warn't fixed so as to +carry off most of their stuff. + +We got an old tin lantern, and a butcher-knife without any handle, and a +bran-new Barlow knife worth two bits in any store, and a lot of tallow +candles, and a tin candlestick, and a gourd, and a tin cup, and a ratty +old bedquilt off the bed, and a reticule with needles and pins and +beeswax and buttons and thread and all such truck in it, and a hatchet +and some nails, and a fishline as thick as my little finger with some +monstrous hooks on it, and a roll of buckskin, and a leather dog-collar, +and a horseshoe, and some vials of medicine that didn't have no label on +them; and just as we was leaving I found a tolerable good curry-comb, and +Jim he found a ratty old fiddle-bow, and a wooden leg. The straps was +broke off of it, but, barring that, it was a good enough leg, though it +was too long for me and not long enough for Jim, and we couldn't find the +other one, though we hunted all around. + +And so, take it all around, we made a good haul. When we was ready to +shove off we was a quarter of a mile below the island, and it was pretty +broad day; so I made Jim lay down in the canoe and cover up with the +quilt, because if he set up people could tell he was a nigger a good ways +off. I paddled over to the Illinois shore, and drifted down most a half +a mile doing it. I crept up the dead water under the bank, and hadn't no +accidents and didn't see nobody. We got home all safe. + +CHAPTER X. + +AFTER breakfast I wanted to talk about the dead man and guess out how he +come to be killed, but Jim didn't want to. He said it would fetch bad +luck; and besides, he said, he might come and ha'nt us; he said a man +that warn't buried was more likely to go a-ha'nting around than one that +was planted and comfortable. That sounded pretty reasonable, so I didn't +say no more; but I couldn't keep from studying over it and wishing I +knowed who shot the man, and what they done it for. + +We rummaged the clothes we'd got, and found eight dollars in silver sewed +up in the lining of an old blanket overcoat. Jim said he reckoned the +people in that house stole the coat, because if they'd a knowed the money +was there they wouldn't a left it. I said I reckoned they killed him, +too; but Jim didn't want to talk about that. I says: + +"Now you think it's bad luck; but what did you say when I fetched in the +snake-skin that I found on the top of the ridge day before yesterday? +You said it was the worst bad luck in the world to touch a snake-skin +with my hands. Well, here's your bad luck! We've raked in all this +truck and eight dollars besides. I wish we could have some bad luck like +this every day, Jim." + +"Never you mind, honey, never you mind. Don't you git too peart. It's +a-comin'. Mind I tell you, it's a-comin'." + +It did come, too. It was a Tuesday that we had that talk. Well, after +dinner Friday we was laying around in the grass at the upper end of the +ridge, and got out of tobacco. I went to the cavern to get some, and +found a rattlesnake in there. I killed him, and curled him up on the +foot of Jim's blanket, ever so natural, thinking there'd be some fun when +Jim found him there. Well, by night I forgot all about the snake, and +when Jim flung himself down on the blanket while I struck a light the +snake's mate was there, and bit him. + +He jumped up yelling, and the first thing the light showed was the +varmint curled up and ready for another spring. I laid him out in a +second with a stick, and Jim grabbed pap's whisky-jug and begun to pour +it down. + +He was barefooted, and the snake bit him right on the heel. That all +comes of my being such a fool as to not remember that wherever you leave +a dead snake its mate always comes there and curls around it. Jim told +me to chop off the snake's head and throw it away, and then skin the body +and roast a piece of it. I done it, and he eat it and said it would help +cure him. He made me take off the rattles and tie them around his wrist, +too. He said that that would help. Then I slid out quiet and throwed +the snakes clear away amongst the bushes; for I warn't going to let Jim +find out it was all my fault, not if I could help it. + +Jim sucked and sucked at the jug, and now and then he got out of his head +and pitched around and yelled; but every time he come to himself he went +to sucking at the jug again. His foot swelled up pretty big, and so did +his leg; but by and by the drunk begun to come, and so I judged he was +all right; but I'd druther been bit with a snake than pap's whisky. + +Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was all gone +and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn't ever take a-holt +of a snake-skin again with my hands, now that I see what had come of it. +Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. And he said that +handling a snake-skin was such awful bad luck that maybe we hadn't got to +the end of it yet. He said he druther see the new moon over his left +shoulder as much as a thousand times than take up a snake-skin in his +hand. Well, I was getting to feel that way myself, though I've always +reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of +the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker +done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got +drunk and fell off of the shot-tower, and spread himself out so that he +was just a kind of a layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways +between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but +I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway it all come of looking at the +moon that way, like a fool. + +Well, the days went along, and the river went down between its banks +again; and about the first thing we done was to bait one of the big hooks +with a skinned rabbit and set it and catch a catfish that was as big as a +man, being six foot two inches long, and weighed over two hundred pounds. +We couldn't handle him, of course; he would a flung us into Illinois. We +just set there and watched him rip and tear around till he drownded. We +found a brass button in his stomach and a round ball, and lots of +rubbage. We split the ball open with the hatchet, and there was a spool +in it. Jim said he'd had it there a long time, to coat it over so and +make a ball of it. It was as big a fish as was ever catched in the +Mississippi, I reckon. Jim said he hadn't ever seen a bigger one. He +would a been worth a good deal over at the village. They peddle out such +a fish as that by the pound in the market-house there; everybody buys +some of him; his meat's as white as snow and makes a good fry. + +Next morning I said it was getting slow and dull, and I wanted to get a +stirring up some way. I said I reckoned I would slip over the river and +find out what was going on. Jim liked that notion; but he said I must go +in the dark and look sharp. Then he studied it over and said, couldn't I +put on some of them old things and dress up like a girl? That was a good +notion, too. So we shortened up one of the calico gowns, and I turned up +my trouser-legs to my knees and got into it. Jim hitched it behind with +the hooks, and it was a fair fit. I put on the sun-bonnet and tied it +under my chin, and then for a body to look in and see my face was like +looking down a joint of stove-pipe. Jim said nobody would know me, even +in the daytime, hardly. I practiced around all day to get the hang of +the things, and by and by I could do pretty well in them, only Jim said I +didn't walk like a girl; and he said I must quit pulling up my gown to +get at my britches-pocket. I took notice, and done better. + +I started up the Illinois shore in the canoe just after dark. + +I started across to the town from a little below the ferry-landing, and +the drift of the current fetched me in at the bottom of the town. I tied +up and started along the bank. There was a light burning in a little +shanty that hadn't been lived in for a long time, and I wondered who had +took up quarters there. I slipped up and peeped in at the window. There +was a woman about forty year old in there knitting by a candle that was +on a pine table. I didn't know her face; she was a stranger, for you +couldn't start a face in that town that I didn't know. Now this was +lucky, because I was weakening; I was getting afraid I had come; people +might know my voice and find me out. But if this woman had been in such +a little town two days she could tell me all I wanted to know; so I +knocked at the door, and made up my mind I wouldn't forget I was a girl. + +CHAPTER XI. + +"COME in," says the woman, and I did. She says: "Take a cheer." + +I done it. She looked me all over with her little shiny eyes, and says: + +"What might your name be?" + +"Sarah Williams." + +"Where 'bouts do you live? In this neighborhood?' + +"No'm. In Hookerville, seven mile below. I've walked all the way and +I'm all tired out." + +"Hungry, too, I reckon. I'll find you something." + +"No'm, I ain't hungry. I was so hungry I had to stop two miles below +here at a farm; so I ain't hungry no more. It's what makes me so late. +My mother's down sick, and out of money and everything, and I come to +tell my uncle Abner Moore. He lives at the upper end of the town, she +says. I hain't ever been here before. Do you know him?" + +"No; but I don't know everybody yet. I haven't lived here quite two +weeks. It's a considerable ways to the upper end of the town. You better +stay here all night. Take off your bonnet." + +"No," I says; "I'll rest a while, I reckon, and go on. I ain't afeared +of the dark." + +She said she wouldn't let me go by myself, but her husband would be in by +and by, maybe in a hour and a half, and she'd send him along with me. +Then she got to talking about her husband, and about her relations up the +river, and her relations down the river, and about how much better off +they used to was, and how they didn't know but they'd made a mistake +coming to our town, instead of letting well alone--and so on and so on, +till I was afeard I had made a mistake coming to her to find out what was +going on in the town; but by and by she dropped on to pap and the murder, +and then I was pretty willing to let her clatter right along. She told +about me and Tom Sawyer finding the six thousand dollars (only she got it +ten) and all about pap and what a hard lot he was, and what a hard lot I +was, and at last she got down to where I was murdered. I says: + +"Who done it? We've heard considerable about these goings on down in +Hookerville, but we don't know who 'twas that killed Huck Finn." + +"Well, I reckon there's a right smart chance of people HERE that'd like +to know who killed him. Some think old Finn done it himself." + +"No--is that so?" + +"Most everybody thought it at first. He'll never know how nigh he come +to getting lynched. But before night they changed around and judged it +was done by a runaway nigger named Jim." + +"Why HE--" + +I stopped. I reckoned I better keep still. She run on, and never +noticed I had put in at all: + +"The nigger run off the very night Huck Finn was killed. So there's a +reward out for him--three hundred dollars. And there's a reward out for +old Finn, too--two hundred dollars. You see, he come to town the morning +after the murder, and told about it, and was out with 'em on the +ferryboat hunt, and right away after he up and left. Before night they +wanted to lynch him, but he was gone, you see. Well, next day they found +out the nigger was gone; they found out he hadn't ben seen sence ten +o'clock the night the murder was done. So then they put it on him, you +see; and while they was full of it, next day, back comes old Finn, and +went boo-hooing to Judge Thatcher to get money to hunt for the nigger all +over Illinois with. The judge gave him some, and that evening he got +drunk, and was around till after midnight with a couple of mighty hard- +looking strangers, and then went off with them. Well, he hain't come +back sence, and they ain't looking for him back till this thing blows +over a little, for people thinks now that he killed his boy and fixed +things so folks would think robbers done it, and then he'd get Huck's +money without having to bother a long time with a lawsuit. People do say +he warn't any too good to do it. Oh, he's sly, I reckon. If he don't +come back for a year he'll be all right. You can't prove anything on +him, you know; everything will be quieted down then, and he'll walk in +Huck's money as easy as nothing." + +"Yes, I reckon so, 'm. I don't see nothing in the way of it. Has +everybody quit thinking the nigger done it?" + +"Oh, no, not everybody. A good many thinks he done it. But they'll get +the nigger pretty soon now, and maybe they can scare it out of him." + +"Why, are they after him yet?" + +"Well, you're innocent, ain't you! Does three hundred dollars lay around +every day for people to pick up? Some folks think the nigger ain't far +from here. I'm one of them--but I hain't talked it around. A few days +ago I was talking with an old couple that lives next door in the log +shanty, and they happened to say hardly anybody ever goes to that island +over yonder that they call Jackson's Island. Don't anybody live there? +says I. No, nobody, says they. I didn't say any more, but I done some +thinking. I was pretty near certain I'd seen smoke over there, about the +head of the island, a day or two before that, so I says to myself, like +as not that nigger's hiding over there; anyway, says I, it's worth the +trouble to give the place a hunt. I hain't seen any smoke sence, so I +reckon maybe he's gone, if it was him; but husband's going over to see-- +him and another man. He was gone up the river; but he got back to-day, +and I told him as soon as he got here two hours ago." + +I had got so uneasy I couldn't set still. I had to do something with my +hands; so I took up a needle off of the table and went to threading it. +My hands shook, and I was making a bad job of it. When the woman stopped +talking I looked up, and she was looking at me pretty curious and smiling +a little. I put down the needle and thread, and let on to be interested +--and I was, too--and says: + +"Three hundred dollars is a power of money. I wish my mother could get +it. Is your husband going over there to-night?" + +"Oh, yes. He went up-town with the man I was telling you of, to get a +boat and see if they could borrow another gun. They'll go over after +midnight." + +"Couldn't they see better if they was to wait till daytime?" + +"Yes. And couldn't the nigger see better, too? After midnight he'll +likely be asleep, and they can slip around through the woods and hunt up +his camp fire all the better for the dark, if he's got one." + +"I didn't think of that." + +The woman kept looking at me pretty curious, and I didn't feel a bit +comfortable. Pretty soon she says" + +"What did you say your name was, honey?" + +"M--Mary Williams." + +Somehow it didn't seem to me that I said it was Mary before, so I didn't +look up--seemed to me I said it was Sarah; so I felt sort of cornered, +and was afeared maybe I was looking it, too. I wished the woman would +say something more; the longer she set still the uneasier I was. But now +she says: + +"Honey, I thought you said it was Sarah when you first come in?" + +"Oh, yes'm, I did. Sarah Mary Williams. Sarah's my first name. Some +calls me Sarah, some calls me Mary." + +"Oh, that's the way of it?" + +"Yes'm." + +I was feeling better then, but I wished I was out of there, anyway. I +couldn't look up yet. + +Well, the woman fell to talking about how hard times was, and how poor +they had to live, and how the rats was as free as if they owned the +place, and so forth and so on, and then I got easy again. She was right +about the rats. You'd see one stick his nose out of a hole in the corner +every little while. She said she had to have things handy to throw at +them when she was alone, or they wouldn't give her no peace. She showed +me a bar of lead twisted up into a knot, and said she was a good shot +with it generly, but she'd wrenched her arm a day or two ago, and didn't +know whether she could throw true now. But she watched for a chance, and +directly banged away at a rat; but she missed him wide, and said "Ouch!" +it hurt her arm so. Then she told me to try for the next one. I wanted +to be getting away before the old man got back, but of course I didn't +let on. I got the thing, and the first rat that showed his nose I let +drive, and if he'd a stayed where he was he'd a been a tolerable sick +rat. She said that was first-rate, and she reckoned I would hive the +next one. She went and got the lump of lead and fetched it back, and +brought along a hank of yarn which she wanted me to help her with. I +held up my two hands and she put the hank over them, and went on talking +about her and her husband's matters. But she broke off to say: + +"Keep your eye on the rats. You better have the lead in your lap, +handy." + +So she dropped the lump into my lap just at that moment, and I clapped my +legs together on it and she went on talking. But only about a minute. +Then she took off the hank and looked me straight in the face, and very +pleasant, and says: + +"Come, now, what's your real name?" + +"Wh--what, mum?" + +"What's your real name? Is it Bill, or Tom, or Bob?--or what is it?" + +I reckon I shook like a leaf, and I didn't know hardly what to do. But I +says: + +"Please to don't poke fun at a poor girl like me, mum. If I'm in the way +here, I'll--" + +"No, you won't. Set down and stay where you are. I ain't going to hurt +you, and I ain't going to tell on you, nuther. You just tell me your +secret, and trust me. I'll keep it; and, what's more, I'll help you. +So'll my old man if you want him to. You see, you're a runaway +'prentice, that's all. It ain't anything. There ain't no harm in it. +You've been treated bad, and you made up your mind to cut. Bless you, +child, I wouldn't tell on you. Tell me all about it now, that's a good +boy." + +So I said it wouldn't be no use to try to play it any longer, and I would +just make a clean breast and tell her everything, but she musn't go back +on her promise. Then I told her my father and mother was dead, and the +law had bound me out to a mean old farmer in the country thirty mile back +from the river, and he treated me so bad I couldn't stand it no longer; +he went away to be gone a couple of days, and so I took my chance and +stole some of his daughter's old clothes and cleared out, and I had been +three nights coming the thirty miles. I traveled nights, and hid +daytimes and slept, and the bag of bread and meat I carried from home +lasted me all the way, and I had a-plenty. I said I believed my uncle +Abner Moore would take care of me, and so that was why I struck out for +this town of Goshen. + +"Goshen, child? This ain't Goshen. This is St. Petersburg. Goshen's +ten mile further up the river. Who told you this was Goshen?" + +"Why, a man I met at daybreak this morning, just as I was going to turn +into the woods for my regular sleep. He told me when the roads forked I +must take the right hand, and five mile would fetch me to Goshen." + +"He was drunk, I reckon. He told you just exactly wrong." + +"Well, he did act like he was drunk, but it ain't no matter now. I got +to be moving along. I'll fetch Goshen before daylight." + +"Hold on a minute. I'll put you up a snack to eat. You might want it." + +So she put me up a snack, and says: + +"Say, when a cow's laying down, which end of her gets up first? Answer +up prompt now--don't stop to study over it. Which end gets up first?" + +"The hind end, mum." + +"Well, then, a horse?" + +"The for'rard end, mum." + +"Which side of a tree does the moss grow on?" + +"North side." + +"If fifteen cows is browsing on a hillside, how many of them eats with +their heads pointed the same direction?" + +"The whole fifteen, mum." + +"Well, I reckon you HAVE lived in the country. I thought maybe you was +trying to hocus me again. What's your real name, now?" + +"George Peters, mum." + +"Well, try to remember it, George. Don't forget and tell me it's +Elexander before you go, and then get out by saying it's George Elexander +when I catch you. And don't go about women in that old calico. You do a +girl tolerable poor, but you might fool men, maybe. Bless you, child, +when you set out to thread a needle don't hold the thread still and fetch +the needle up to it; hold the needle still and poke the thread at it; +that's the way a woman most always does, but a man always does t'other +way. And when you throw at a rat or anything, hitch yourself up a tiptoe +and fetch your hand up over your head as awkward as you can, and miss +your rat about six or seven foot. Throw stiff-armed from the shoulder, +like there was a pivot there for it to turn on, like a girl; not from the +wrist and elbow, with your arm out to one side, like a boy. And, mind +you, when a girl tries to catch anything in her lap she throws her knees +apart; she don't clap them together, the way you did when you catched the +lump of lead. Why, I spotted you for a boy when you was threading the +needle; and I contrived the other things just to make certain. Now trot +along to your uncle, Sarah Mary Williams George Elexander Peters, and if +you get into trouble you send word to Mrs. Judith Loftus, which is me, +and I'll do what I can to get you out of it. Keep the river road all the +way, and next time you tramp take shoes and socks with you. The river +road's a rocky one, and your feet'll be in a condition when you get to +Goshen, I reckon." + +I went up the bank about fifty yards, and then I doubled on my tracks and +slipped back to where my canoe was, a good piece below the house. I +jumped in, and was off in a hurry. I went up-stream far enough to make +the head of the island, and then started across. I took off the sun- +bonnet, for I didn't want no blinders on then. When I was about the +middle I heard the clock begin to strike, so I stops and listens; the +sound come faint over the water but clear--eleven. When I struck the +head of the island I never waited to blow, though I was most winded, but +I shoved right into the timber where my old camp used to be, and started +a good fire there on a high and dry spot. + +Then I jumped in the canoe and dug out for our place, a mile and a half +below, as hard as I could go. I landed, and slopped through the timber +and up the ridge and into the cavern. There Jim laid, sound asleep on +the ground. I roused him out and says: + +"Git up and hump yourself, Jim! There ain't a minute to lose. They're +after us!" + +Jim never asked no questions, he never said a word; but the way he worked +for the next half an hour showed about how he was scared. By that time +everything we had in the world was on our raft, and she was ready to be +shoved out from the willow cove where she was hid. We put out the camp +fire at the cavern the first thing, and didn't show a candle outside +after that. + +I took the canoe out from the shore a little piece, and took a look; but +if there was a boat around I couldn't see it, for stars and shadows ain't +good to see by. Then we got out the raft and slipped along down in the +shade, past the foot of the island dead still--never saying a word. + +CHAPTER XII. + +IT must a been close on to one o'clock when we got below the island at +last, and the raft did seem to go mighty slow. If a boat was to come +along we was going to take to the canoe and break for the Illinois shore; +and it was well a boat didn't come, for we hadn't ever thought to put the +gun in the canoe, or a fishing-line, or anything to eat. We was in +ruther too much of a sweat to think of so many things. It warn't good +judgment to put EVERYTHING on the raft. + +If the men went to the island I just expect they found the camp fire I +built, and watched it all night for Jim to come. Anyways, they stayed +away from us, and if my building the fire never fooled them it warn't no +fault of mine. I played it as low down on them as I could. + +When the first streak of day began to show we tied up to a towhead in a +big bend on the Illinois side, and hacked off cottonwood branches with +the hatchet, and covered up the raft with them so she looked like there +had been a cave-in in the bank there. A tow-head is a sandbar that has +cottonwoods on it as thick as harrow-teeth. + +We had mountains on the Missouri shore and heavy timber on the Illinois +side, and the channel was down the Missouri shore at that place, so we +warn't afraid of anybody running across us. We laid there all day, and +watched the rafts and steamboats spin down the Missouri shore, and up- +bound steamboats fight the big river in the middle. I told Jim all about +the time I had jabbering with that woman; and Jim said she was a smart +one, and if she was to start after us herself she wouldn't set down and +watch a camp fire--no, sir, she'd fetch a dog. Well, then, I said, why +couldn't she tell her husband to fetch a dog? Jim said he bet she did +think of it by the time the men was ready to start, and he believed they +must a gone up-town to get a dog and so they lost all that time, or else +we wouldn't be here on a towhead sixteen or seventeen mile below the +village--no, indeedy, we would be in that same old town again. So I said +I didn't care what was the reason they didn't get us as long as they +didn't. + +When it was beginning to come on dark we poked our heads out of the +cottonwood thicket, and looked up and down and across; nothing in sight; +so Jim took up some of the top planks of the raft and built a snug wigwam +to get under in blazing weather and rainy, and to keep the things dry. +Jim made a floor for the wigwam, and raised it a foot or more above the +level of the raft, so now the blankets and all the traps was out of reach +of steamboat waves. Right in the middle of the wigwam we made a layer of +dirt about five or six inches deep with a frame around it for to hold it +to its place; this was to build a fire on in sloppy weather or chilly; +the wigwam would keep it from being seen. We made an extra steering-oar, +too, because one of the others might get broke on a snag or something. +We fixed up a short forked stick to hang the old lantern on, because we +must always light the lantern whenever we see a steamboat coming down- +stream, to keep from getting run over; but we wouldn't have to light it +for up-stream boats unless we see we was in what they call a "crossing"; +for the river was pretty high yet, very low banks being still a little +under water; so up-bound boats didn't always run the channel, but hunted +easy water. + +This second night we run between seven and eight hours, with a current +that was making over four mile an hour. We catched fish and talked, and +we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of +solemn, drifting down the big, still river, laying on our backs looking +up at the stars, and we didn't ever feel like talking loud, and it warn't +often that we laughed--only a little kind of a low chuckle. We had +mighty good weather as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to us +at all--that night, nor the next, nor the next. + +Every night we passed towns, some of them away up on black hillsides, +nothing but just a shiny bed of lights; not a house could you see. The +fifth night we passed St. Louis, and it was like the whole world lit up. +In St. Petersburg they used to say there was twenty or thirty thousand +people in St. Louis, but I never believed it till I see that wonderful +spread of lights at two o'clock that still night. There warn't a sound +there; everybody was asleep. + +Every night now I used to slip ashore towards ten o'clock at some little +village, and buy ten or fifteen cents' worth of meal or bacon or other +stuff to eat; and sometimes I lifted a chicken that warn't roosting +comfortable, and took him along. Pap always said, take a chicken when +you get a chance, because if you don't want him yourself you can easy +find somebody that does, and a good deed ain't ever forgot. I never see +pap when he didn't want the chicken himself, but that is what he used to +say, anyway. + +Mornings before daylight I slipped into cornfields and borrowed a +watermelon, or a mushmelon, or a punkin, or some new corn, or things of +that kind. Pap always said it warn't no harm to borrow things if you was +meaning to pay them back some time; but the widow said it warn't anything +but a soft name for stealing, and no decent body would do it. Jim said +he reckoned the widow was partly right and pap was partly right; so the +best way would be for us to pick out two or three things from the list +and say we wouldn't borrow them any more--then he reckoned it wouldn't be +no harm to borrow the others. So we talked it over all one night, +drifting along down the river, trying to make up our minds whether to +drop the watermelons, or the cantelopes, or the mushmelons, or what. But +towards daylight we got it all settled satisfactory, and concluded to +drop crabapples and p'simmons. We warn't feeling just right before that, +but it was all comfortable now. I was glad the way it come out, too, +because crabapples ain't ever good, and the p'simmons wouldn't be ripe +for two or three months yet. + +We shot a water-fowl now and then that got up too early in the morning or +didn't go to bed early enough in the evening. Take it all round, we +lived pretty high. + +The fifth night below St. Louis we had a big storm after midnight, with a +power of thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in a solid +sheet. We stayed in the wigwam and let the raft take care of itself. +When the lightning glared out we could see a big straight river ahead, +and high, rocky bluffs on both sides. By and by says I, "Hel-LO, Jim, +looky yonder!" It was a steamboat that had killed herself on a rock. We +was drifting straight down for her. The lightning showed her very +distinct. She was leaning over, with part of her upper deck above water, +and you could see every little chimbly-guy clean and clear, and a chair +by the big bell, with an old slouch hat hanging on the back of it, when +the flashes come. + +Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysterious-like, +I felt just the way any other boy would a felt when I see that wreck +laying there so mournful and lonesome in the middle of the river. I +wanted to get aboard of her and slink around a little, and see what there +was there. So I says: + +"Le's land on her, Jim." + +But Jim was dead against it at first. He says: + +"I doan' want to go fool'n 'long er no wrack. We's doin' blame' well, en +we better let blame' well alone, as de good book says. Like as not dey's +a watchman on dat wrack." + +"Watchman your grandmother," I says; "there ain't nothing to watch but +the texas and the pilot-house; and do you reckon anybody's going to resk +his life for a texas and a pilot-house such a night as this, when it's +likely to break up and wash off down the river any minute?" Jim couldn't +say nothing to that, so he didn't try. "And besides," I says, "we might +borrow something worth having out of the captain's stateroom. Seegars, I +bet you--and cost five cents apiece, solid cash. Steamboat captains is +always rich, and get sixty dollars a month, and THEY don't care a cent +what a thing costs, you know, long as they want it. Stick a candle in +your pocket; I can't rest, Jim, till we give her a rummaging. Do you +reckon Tom Sawyer would ever go by this thing? Not for pie, he wouldn't. +He'd call it an adventure--that's what he'd call it; and he'd land on +that wreck if it was his last act. And wouldn't he throw style into it? +--wouldn't he spread himself, nor nothing? Why, you'd think it was +Christopher C'lumbus discovering Kingdom-Come. I wish Tom Sawyer WAS +here." + +Jim he grumbled a little, but give in. He said we mustn't talk any more +than we could help, and then talk mighty low. The lightning showed us +the wreck again just in time, and we fetched the stabboard derrick, and +made fast there. + +The deck was high out here. We went sneaking down the slope of it to +labboard, in the dark, towards the texas, feeling our way slow with our +feet, and spreading our hands out to fend off the guys, for it was so +dark we couldn't see no sign of them. Pretty soon we struck the forward +end of the skylight, and clumb on to it; and the next step fetched us in +front of the captain's door, which was open, and by Jimminy, away down +through the texas-hall we see a light! and all in the same second we seem +to hear low voices in yonder! + +Jim whispered and said he was feeling powerful sick, and told me to come +along. I says, all right, and was going to start for the raft; but just +then I heard a voice wail out and say: + +"Oh, please don't, boys; I swear I won't ever tell!" + +Another voice said, pretty loud: + +"It's a lie, Jim Turner. You've acted this way before. You always want +more'n your share of the truck, and you've always got it, too, because +you've swore 't if you didn't you'd tell. But this time you've said it +jest one time too many. You're the meanest, treacherousest hound in this +country." + +By this time Jim was gone for the raft. I was just a-biling with +curiosity; and I says to myself, Tom Sawyer wouldn't back out now, and so +I won't either; I'm a-going to see what's going on here. So I dropped on +my hands and knees in the little passage, and crept aft in the dark till +there warn't but one stateroom betwixt me and the cross-hall of the +texas. Then in there I see a man stretched on the floor and tied hand +and foot, and two men standing over him, and one of them had a dim +lantern in his hand, and the other one had a pistol. This one kept +pointing the pistol at the man's head on the floor, and saying: + +"I'd LIKE to! And I orter, too--a mean skunk!" + +The man on the floor would shrivel up and say, "Oh, please don't, Bill; I +hain't ever goin' to tell." + +And every time he said that the man with the lantern would laugh and say: + +"'Deed you AIN'T! You never said no truer thing 'n that, you bet you." +And once he said: "Hear him beg! and yit if we hadn't got the best of +him and tied him he'd a killed us both. And what FOR? Jist for noth'n. +Jist because we stood on our RIGHTS--that's what for. But I lay you +ain't a-goin' to threaten nobody any more, Jim Turner. Put UP that +pistol, Bill." + +Bill says: + +"I don't want to, Jake Packard. I'm for killin' him--and didn't he kill +old Hatfield jist the same way--and don't he deserve it?" + +"But I don't WANT him killed, and I've got my reasons for it." + +"Bless yo' heart for them words, Jake Packard! I'll never forgit you +long's I live!" says the man on the floor, sort of blubbering. + +Packard didn't take no notice of that, but hung up his lantern on a nail +and started towards where I was there in the dark, and motioned Bill to +come. I crawfished as fast as I could about two yards, but the boat +slanted so that I couldn't make very good time; so to keep from getting +run over and catched I crawled into a stateroom on the upper side. The +man came a-pawing along in the dark, and when Packard got to my +stateroom, he says: + +"Here--come in here." + +And in he come, and Bill after him. But before they got in I was up in +the upper berth, cornered, and sorry I come. Then they stood there, with +their hands on the ledge of the berth, and talked. I couldn't see them, +but I could tell where they was by the whisky they'd been having. I was +glad I didn't drink whisky; but it wouldn't made much difference anyway, +because most of the time they couldn't a treed me because I didn't +breathe. I was too scared. And, besides, a body COULDN'T breathe and +hear such talk. They talked low and earnest. Bill wanted to kill +Turner. He says: + +"He's said he'll tell, and he will. If we was to give both our shares to +him NOW it wouldn't make no difference after the row and the way we've +served him. Shore's you're born, he'll turn State's evidence; now you +hear ME. I'm for putting him out of his troubles." + +"So'm I," says Packard, very quiet. + +"Blame it, I'd sorter begun to think you wasn't. Well, then, that's all +right. Le's go and do it." + +"Hold on a minute; I hain't had my say yit. You listen to me. +Shooting's good, but there's quieter ways if the thing's GOT to be done. +But what I say is this: it ain't good sense to go court'n around after a +halter if you can git at what you're up to in some way that's jist as +good and at the same time don't bring you into no resks. Ain't that so?" + +"You bet it is. But how you goin' to manage it this time?" + +"Well, my idea is this: we'll rustle around and gather up whatever +pickins we've overlooked in the staterooms, and shove for shore and hide +the truck. Then we'll wait. Now I say it ain't a-goin' to be more'n two +hours befo' this wrack breaks up and washes off down the river. See? +He'll be drownded, and won't have nobody to blame for it but his own +self. I reckon that's a considerble sight better 'n killin' of him. I'm +unfavorable to killin' a man as long as you can git aroun' it; it ain't +good sense, it ain't good morals. Ain't I right?" + +"Yes, I reck'n you are. But s'pose she DON'T break up and wash off?" + +"Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can't we?" + +"All right, then; come along." + +So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled +forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse +whisper, "Jim !" and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of a +moan, and I says: + +"Quick, Jim, it ain't no time for fooling around and moaning; there's a +gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don't hunt up their boat and set +her drifting down the river so these fellows can't get away from the +wreck there's one of 'em going to be in a bad fix. But if we find their +boat we can put ALL of 'em in a bad fix--for the sheriff 'll get 'em. +Quick--hurry! I'll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the stabboard. +You start at the raft, and--" + +"Oh, my lordy, lordy! RAF'? Dey ain' no raf' no mo'; she done broke +loose en gone I--en here we is!" + +CHAPTER XIII. + +WELL, I catched my breath and most fainted. Shut up on a wreck with such +a gang as that! But it warn't no time to be sentimentering. We'd GOT to +find that boat now--had to have it for ourselves. So we went a-quaking +and shaking down the stabboard side, and slow work it was, too--seemed a +week before we got to the stern. No sign of a boat. Jim said he didn't +believe he could go any further--so scared he hadn't hardly any strength +left, he said. But I said, come on, if we get left on this wreck we are +in a fix, sure. So on we prowled again. We struck for the stern of the +texas, and found it, and then scrabbled along forwards on the skylight, +hanging on from shutter to shutter, for the edge of the skylight was in +the water. When we got pretty close to the cross-hall door there was the +skiff, sure enough! I could just barely see her. I felt ever so +thankful. In another second I would a been aboard of her, but just then +the door opened. One of the men stuck his head out only about a couple +of foot from me, and I thought I was gone; but he jerked it in again, and +says: + +"Heave that blame lantern out o' sight, Bill!" + +He flung a bag of something into the boat, and then got in himself and +set down. It was Packard. Then Bill HE come out and got in. Packard +says, in a low voice: + +"All ready--shove off!" + +I couldn't hardly hang on to the shutters, I was so weak. But Bill says: + +"Hold on--'d you go through him?" + +"No. Didn't you?" + +"No. So he's got his share o' the cash yet." + +"Well, then, come along; no use to take truck and leave money." + +"Say, won't he suspicion what we're up to?" + +"Maybe he won't. But we got to have it anyway. Come along." + +So they got out and went in. + +The door slammed to because it was on the careened side; and in a half +second I was in the boat, and Jim come tumbling after me. I out with my +knife and cut the rope, and away we went! + +We didn't touch an oar, and we didn't speak nor whisper, nor hardly even +breathe. We went gliding swift along, dead silent, past the tip of the +paddle-box, and past the stern; then in a second or two more we was a +hundred yards below the wreck, and the darkness soaked her up, every last +sign of her, and we was safe, and knowed it. + +When we was three or four hundred yards down-stream we see the lantern +show like a little spark at the texas door for a second, and we knowed by +that that the rascals had missed their boat, and was beginning to +understand that they was in just as much trouble now as Jim Turner was. + +Then Jim manned the oars, and we took out after our raft. Now was the +first time that I begun to worry about the men--I reckon I hadn't had +time to before. I begun to think how dreadful it was, even for +murderers, to be in such a fix. I says to myself, there ain't no telling +but I might come to be a murderer myself yet, and then how would I like +it? So says I to Jim: + +"The first light we see we'll land a hundred yards below it or above it, +in a place where it's a good hiding-place for you and the skiff, and then +I'll go and fix up some kind of a yarn, and get somebody to go for that +gang and get them out of their scrape, so they can be hung when their +time comes." + +But that idea was a failure; for pretty soon it begun to storm again, and +this time worse than ever. The rain poured down, and never a light +showed; everybody in bed, I reckon. We boomed along down the river, +watching for lights and watching for our raft. After a long time the +rain let up, but the clouds stayed, and the lightning kept whimpering, +and by and by a flash showed us a black thing ahead, floating, and we +made for it. + +It was the raft, and mighty glad was we to get aboard of it again. We +seen a light now away down to the right, on shore. So I said I would go +for it. The skiff was half full of plunder which that gang had stole +there on the wreck. We hustled it on to the raft in a pile, and I told +Jim to float along down, and show a light when he judged he had gone +about two mile, and keep it burning till I come; then I manned my oars +and shoved for the light. As I got down towards it three or four more +showed--up on a hillside. It was a village. I closed in above the shore +light, and laid on my oars and floated. As I went by I see it was a +lantern hanging on the jackstaff of a double-hull ferryboat. I skimmed +around for the watchman, a-wondering whereabouts he slept; and by and by +I found him roosting on the bitts forward, with his head down between his +knees. I gave his shoulder two or three little shoves, and begun to cry. + +He stirred up in a kind of a startlish way; but when he see it was only +me he took a good gap and stretch, and then he says: + +"Hello, what's up? Don't cry, bub. What's the trouble?" + +I says: + +"Pap, and mam, and sis, and--" + +Then I broke down. He says: + +"Oh, dang it now, DON'T take on so; we all has to have our troubles, and +this 'n 'll come out all right. What's the matter with 'em?" + +"They're--they're--are you the watchman of the boat?" + +"Yes," he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. "I'm the captain and +the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head deck-hand; and +sometimes I'm the freight and passengers. I ain't as rich as old Jim +Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good to Tom, Dick, and +Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he does; but I've told +him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places with him; for, says I, a +sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm derned if I'D live two mile out +o' town, where there ain't nothing ever goin' on, not for all his +spondulicks and as much more on top of it. Says I--" + +I broke in and says: + +"They're in an awful peck of trouble, and--" + +"WHO is?" + +"Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your +ferryboat and go up there--" + +"Up where? Where are they?" + +"On the wreck." + +"What wreck?" + +"Why, there ain't but one." + +"What, you don't mean the Walter Scott?" + +"Yes." + +"Good land! what are they doin' THERE, for gracious sakes?" + +"Well, they didn't go there a-purpose." + +"I bet they didn't! Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em +if they don't git off mighty quick! Why, how in the nation did they ever +git into such a scrape?" + +"Easy enough. Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town--" + +"Yes, Booth's Landing--go on." + +"She was a-visiting there at Booth's Landing, and just in the edge of the +evening she started over with her nigger woman in the horse-ferry to stay +all night at her friend's house, Miss What-you-may-call-her I disremember +her name--and they lost their steering-oar, and swung around and went a- +floating down, stern first, about two mile, and saddle-baggsed on the +wreck, and the ferryman and the nigger woman and the horses was all lost, +but Miss Hooker she made a grab and got aboard the wreck. Well, about an +hour after dark we come along down in our trading-scow, and it was so +dark we didn't notice the wreck till we was right on it; and so WE +saddle-baggsed; but all of us was saved but Bill Whipple--and oh, he WAS +the best cretur !--I most wish 't it had been me, I do." + +"My George! It's the beatenest thing I ever struck. And THEN what did +you all do?" + +"Well, we hollered and took on, but it's so wide there we couldn't make +nobody hear. So pap said somebody got to get ashore and get help +somehow. I was the only one that could swim, so I made a dash for it, and +Miss Hooker she said if I didn't strike help sooner, come here and hunt +up her uncle, and he'd fix the thing. I made the land about a mile +below, and been fooling along ever since, trying to get people to do +something, but they said, 'What, in such a night and such a current? +There ain't no sense in it; go for the steam ferry.' Now if you'll go +and--" + +"By Jackson, I'd LIKE to, and, blame it, I don't know but I will; but who +in the dingnation's a-going' to PAY for it? Do you reckon your pap--" + +"Why THAT'S all right. Miss Hooker she tole me, PARTICULAR, that her +uncle Hornback--" + +"Great guns! is HE her uncle? Looky here, you break for that light over +yonder-way, and turn out west when you git there, and about a quarter of +a mile out you'll come to the tavern; tell 'em to dart you out to Jim +Hornback's, and he'll foot the bill. And don't you fool around any, +because he'll want to know the news. Tell him I'll have his niece all +safe before he can get to town. Hump yourself, now; I'm a-going up +around the corner here to roust out my engineer." + +I struck for the light, but as soon as he turned the corner I went back +and got into my skiff and bailed her out, and then pulled up shore in the +easy water about six hundred yards, and tucked myself in among some +woodboats; for I couldn't rest easy till I could see the ferryboat start. +But take it all around, I was feeling ruther comfortable on accounts of +taking all this trouble for that gang, for not many would a done it. I +wished the widow knowed about it. I judged she would be proud of me for +helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions and dead beats is the +kind the widow and good people takes the most interest in. + +Well, before long here comes the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding along +down! A kind of cold shiver went through me, and then I struck out for +her. She was very deep, and I see in a minute there warn't much chance +for anybody being alive in her. I pulled all around her and hollered a +little, but there wasn't any answer; all dead still. I felt a little bit +heavy-hearted about the gang, but not much, for I reckoned if they could +stand it I could. + +Then here comes the ferryboat; so I shoved for the middle of the river on +a long down-stream slant; and when I judged I was out of eye-reach I laid +on my oars, and looked back and see her go and smell around the wreck for +Miss Hooker's remainders, because the captain would know her uncle +Hornback would want them; and then pretty soon the ferryboat give it up +and went for the shore, and I laid into my work and went a-booming down +the river. + +It did seem a powerful long time before Jim's light showed up; and when +it did show it looked like it was a thousand mile off. By the time I got +there the sky was beginning to get a little gray in the east; so we +struck for an island, and hid the raft, and sunk the skiff, and turned in +and slept like dead people. + +CHAPTER XIV. + +BY and by, when we got up, we turned over the truck the gang had stole +off of the wreck, and found boots, and blankets, and clothes, and all +sorts of other things, and a lot of books, and a spyglass, and three +boxes of seegars. We hadn't ever been this rich before in neither of our +lives. The seegars was prime. We laid off all the afternoon in the +woods talking, and me reading the books, and having a general good time. +I told Jim all about what happened inside the wreck and at the ferryboat, +and I said these kinds of things was adventures; but he said he didn't +want no more adventures. He said that when I went in the texas and he +crawled back to get on the raft and found her gone he nearly died, +because he judged it was all up with HIM anyway it could be fixed; for if +he didn't get saved he would get drownded; and if he did get saved, +whoever saved him would send him back home so as to get the reward, and +then Miss Watson would sell him South, sure. Well, he was right; he was +most always right; he had an uncommon level head for a nigger. + +I read considerable to Jim about kings and dukes and earls and such, and +how gaudy they dressed, and how much style they put on, and called each +other your majesty, and your grace, and your lordship, and so on, 'stead +of mister; and Jim's eyes bugged out, and he was interested. He says: + +"I didn' know dey was so many un um. I hain't hearn 'bout none un um, +skasely, but ole King Sollermun, onless you counts dem kings dat's in a +pack er k'yards. How much do a king git?" + +"Get?" I says; "why, they get a thousand dollars a month if they want +it; they can have just as much as they want; everything belongs to them." + +"AIN' dat gay? En what dey got to do, Huck?" + +"THEY don't do nothing! Why, how you talk! They just set around." + +"No; is dat so?" + +"Of course it is. They just set around--except, maybe, when there's a +war; then they go to the war. But other times they just lazy around; or +go hawking--just hawking and sp--Sh!--d' you hear a noise?" + +We skipped out and looked; but it warn't nothing but the flutter of a +steamboat's wheel away down, coming around the point; so we come back. + +"Yes," says I, "and other times, when things is dull, they fuss with the +parlyment; and if everybody don't go just so he whacks their heads off. +But mostly they hang round the harem." + +"Roun' de which?" + +"Harem." + +"What's de harem?" + +"The place where he keeps his wives. Don't you know about the harem? +Solomon had one; he had about a million wives." + +"Why, yes, dat's so; I--I'd done forgot it. A harem's a bo'd'n-house, I +reck'n. Mos' likely dey has rackety times in de nussery. En I reck'n de +wives quarrels considable; en dat 'crease de racket. Yit dey say +Sollermun de wises' man dat ever live'. I doan' take no stock in dat. +Bekase why: would a wise man want to live in de mids' er sich a blim- +blammin' all de time? No--'deed he wouldn't. A wise man 'ud take en +buil' a biler-factry; en den he could shet DOWN de biler-factry when he +want to res'." + +"Well, but he WAS the wisest man, anyway; because the widow she told me +so, her own self." + +"I doan k'yer what de widder say, he WARN'T no wise man nuther. He had +some er de dad-fetchedes' ways I ever see. Does you know 'bout dat chile +dat he 'uz gwyne to chop in two?" + +"Yes, the widow told me all about it." + +"WELL, den! Warn' dat de beatenes' notion in de worl'? You jes' take en +look at it a minute. Dah's de stump, dah--dat's one er de women; heah's +you--dat's de yuther one; I's Sollermun; en dish yer dollar bill's de +chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does I do? Does I shin aroun' +mongs' de neighbors en fine out which un you de bill DO b'long to, en +han' it over to de right one, all safe en soun', de way dat anybody dat +had any gumption would? No; I take en whack de bill in TWO, en give half +un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dat's de way +Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast you: what's +de use er dat half a bill?--can't buy noth'n wid it. En what use is a +half a chile? I wouldn' give a dern for a million un um." + +"But hang it, Jim, you've clean missed the point--blame it, you've missed +it a thousand mile." + +"Who? Me? Go 'long. Doan' talk to me 'bout yo' pints. I reck'n I +knows sense when I sees it; en dey ain' no sense in sich doin's as dat. +De 'spute warn't 'bout a half a chile, de 'spute was 'bout a whole chile; +en de man dat think he kin settle a 'spute 'bout a whole chile wid a half +a chile doan' know enough to come in out'n de rain. Doan' talk to me +'bout Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back." + +"But I tell you you don't get the point." + +"Blame de point! I reck'n I knows what I knows. En mine you, de REAL +pint is down furder--it's down deeper. It lays in de way Sollermun was +raised. You take a man dat's got on'y one or two chillen; is dat man +gwyne to be waseful o' chillen? No, he ain't; he can't 'ford it. HE +know how to value 'em. But you take a man dat's got 'bout five million +chillen runnin' roun' de house, en it's diffunt. HE as soon chop a chile +in two as a cat. Dey's plenty mo'. A chile er two, mo' er less, warn't +no consekens to Sollermun, dad fatch him!" + +I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once, there +warn't no getting it out again. He was the most down on Solomon of any +nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other kings, and let +Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off in +France long time ago; and about his little boy the dolphin, that would a +been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died +there. + +"Po' little chap." + +"But some says he got out and got away, and come to America." + +"Dat's good! But he'll be pooty lonesome--dey ain' no kings here, is +dey, Huck?" + +"No." + +"Den he cain't git no situation. What he gwyne to do?" + +"Well, I don't know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them +learns people how to talk French." + +"Why, Huck, doan' de French people talk de same way we does?" + +"NO, Jim; you couldn't understand a word they said--not a single word." + +"Well, now, I be ding-busted! How do dat come?" + +"I don't know; but it's so. I got some of their jabber out of a book. +S'pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy--what would you +think?" + +"I wouldn' think nuff'n; I'd take en bust him over de head--dat is, if he +warn't white. I wouldn't 'low no nigger to call me dat." + +"Shucks, it ain't calling you anything. It's only saying, do you know +how to talk French?" + +"Well, den, why couldn't he SAY it?" + +"Why, he IS a-saying it. That's a Frenchman's WAY of saying it." + +"Well, it's a blame ridicklous way, en I doan' want to hear no mo' 'bout +it. Dey ain' no sense in it." + +"Looky here, Jim; does a cat talk like we do?" + +"No, a cat don't." + +"Well, does a cow?" + +"No, a cow don't, nuther." + +"Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat?" + +"No, dey don't." + +"It's natural and right for 'em to talk different from each other, ain't +it?" + +"Course." + +"And ain't it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk different +from US?" + +"Why, mos' sholy it is." + +"Well, then, why ain't it natural and right for a FRENCHMAN to talk +different from us? You answer me that." + +"Is a cat a man, Huck?" + +"No." + +"Well, den, dey ain't no sense in a cat talkin' like a man. Is a cow a +man?--er is a cow a cat?" + +"No, she ain't either of them." + +"Well, den, she ain't got no business to talk like either one er the +yuther of 'em. Is a Frenchman a man?" + +"Yes." + +"WELL, den! Dad blame it, why doan' he TALK like a man? You answer me +DAT!" + +I see it warn't no use wasting words--you can't learn a nigger to argue. +So I quit. + +CHAPTER XV. + +WE judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at the bottom +of Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was what we was +after. We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go way up the +Ohio amongst the free States, and then be out of trouble. + +Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for a towhead +to tie to, for it wouldn't do to try to run in a fog; but when I paddled +ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn't anything but +little saplings to tie to. I passed the line around one of them right on +the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiff current, and the raft +come booming down so lively she tore it out by the roots and away she +went. I see the fog closing down, and it made me so sick and scared I +couldn't budge for most a half a minute it seemed to me--and then there +warn't no raft in sight; you couldn't see twenty yards. I jumped into +the canoe and run back to the stern, and grabbed the paddle and set her +back a stroke. But she didn't come. I was in such a hurry I hadn't +untied her. I got up and tried to untie her, but I was so excited my +hands shook so I couldn't hardly do anything with them. + +As soon as I got started I took out after the raft, hot and heavy, right +down the towhead. That was all right as far as it went, but the towhead +warn't sixty yards long, and the minute I flew by the foot of it I shot +out into the solid white fog, and hadn't no more idea which way I was +going than a dead man. + +Thinks I, it won't do to paddle; first I know I'll run into the bank or a +towhead or something; I got to set still and float, and yet it's mighty +fidgety business to have to hold your hands still at such a time. I +whooped and listened. Away down there somewheres I hears a small whoop, +and up comes my spirits. I went tearing after it, listening sharp to +hear it again. The next time it come I see I warn't heading for it, but +heading away to the right of it. And the next time I was heading away to +the left of it--and not gaining on it much either, for I was flying +around, this way and that and t'other, but it was going straight ahead +all the time. + +I did wish the fool would think to beat a tin pan, and beat it all the +time, but he never did, and it was the still places between the whoops +that was making the trouble for me. Well, I fought along, and directly I +hears the whoop BEHIND me. I was tangled good now. That was somebody +else's whoop, or else I was turned around. + +I throwed the paddle down. I heard the whoop again; it was behind me +yet, but in a different place; it kept coming, and kept changing its +place, and I kept answering, till by and by it was in front of me again, +and I knowed the current had swung the canoe's head down-stream, and I +was all right if that was Jim and not some other raftsman hollering. I +couldn't tell nothing about voices in a fog, for nothing don't look +natural nor sound natural in a fog. + +The whooping went on, and in about a minute I come a-booming down on a +cut bank with smoky ghosts of big trees on it, and the current throwed me +off to the left and shot by, amongst a lot of snags that fairly roared, +the currrent was tearing by them so swift. + +In another second or two it was solid white and still again. I set +perfectly still then, listening to my heart thump, and I reckon I didn't +draw a breath while it thumped a hundred. + +I just give up then. I knowed what the matter was. That cut bank was an +island, and Jim had gone down t'other side of it. It warn't no towhead +that you could float by in ten minutes. It had the big timber of a +regular island; it might be five or six miles long and more than half a +mile wide. + +I kept quiet, with my ears cocked, about fifteen minutes, I reckon. I +was floating along, of course, four or five miles an hour; but you don't +ever think of that. No, you FEEL like you are laying dead still on the +water; and if a little glimpse of a snag slips by you don't think to +yourself how fast YOU'RE going, but you catch your breath and think, my! +how that snag's tearing along. If you think it ain't dismal and lonesome +out in a fog that way by yourself in the night, you try it once--you'll +see. + +Next, for about a half an hour, I whoops now and then; at last I hears +the answer a long ways off, and tries to follow it, but I couldn't do it, +and directly I judged I'd got into a nest of towheads, for I had little +dim glimpses of them on both sides of me--sometimes just a narrow channel +between, and some that I couldn't see I knowed was there because I'd hear +the wash of the current against the old dead brush and trash that hung +over the banks. Well, I warn't long loosing the whoops down amongst the +towheads; and I only tried to chase them a little while, anyway, because +it was worse than chasing a Jack-o'-lantern. You never knowed a sound +dodge around so, and swap places so quick and so much. + +I had to claw away from the bank pretty lively four or five times, to +keep from knocking the islands out of the river; and so I judged the raft +must be butting into the bank every now and then, or else it would get +further ahead and clear out of hearing--it was floating a little faster +than what I was. + +Well, I seemed to be in the open river again by and by, but I couldn't +hear no sign of a whoop nowheres. I reckoned Jim had fetched up on a +snag, maybe, and it was all up with him. I was good and tired, so I laid +down in the canoe and said I wouldn't bother no more. I didn't want to +go to sleep, of course; but I was so sleepy I couldn't help it; so I +thought I would take jest one little cat-nap. + +But I reckon it was more than a cat-nap, for when I waked up the stars +was shining bright, the fog was all gone, and I was spinning down a big +bend stern first. First I didn't know where I was; I thought I was +dreaming; and when things began to come back to me they seemed to come up +dim out of last week. + +It was a monstrous big river here, with the tallest and the thickest kind +of timber on both banks; just a solid wall, as well as I could see by the +stars. I looked away down-stream, and seen a black speck on the water. +I took after it; but when I got to it it warn't nothing but a couple of +sawlogs made fast together. Then I see another speck, and chased that; +then another, and this time I was right. It was the raft. + +When I got to it Jim was setting there with his head down between his +knees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steering-oar. The +other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and +branches and dirt. So she'd had a rough time. + +I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and began to gap, +and stretch my fists out against Jim, and says: + +"Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn't you stir me up?" + +"Goodness gracious, is dat you, Huck? En you ain' dead--you ain' +drownded--you's back agin? It's too good for true, honey, it's too +good for true. Lemme look at you chile, lemme feel o' you. No, you ain' +dead! you's back agin, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huck--de same ole +Huck, thanks to goodness!" + +"What's the matter with you, Jim? You been a-drinking?" + +"Drinkin'? Has I ben a-drinkin'? Has I had a chance to be a-drinkin'?" + +"Well, then, what makes you talk so wild?" + +"How does I talk wild?" + +"HOW? Why, hain't you been talking about my coming back, and all that +stuff, as if I'd been gone away?" + +"Huck--Huck Finn, you look me in de eye; look me in de eye. HAIN'T you +ben gone away?" + +"Gone away? Why, what in the nation do you mean? I hain't been gone +anywheres. Where would I go to?" + +"Well, looky here, boss, dey's sumf'n wrong, dey is. Is I ME, or who IS +I? Is I heah, or whah IS I? Now dat's what I wants to know." + +"Well, I think you're here, plain enough, but I think you're a tangle- +headed old fool, Jim." + +"I is, is I? Well, you answer me dis: Didn't you tote out de line in de +canoe fer to make fas' to de tow-head?" + +"No, I didn't. What tow-head? I hain't see no tow-head." + +"You hain't seen no towhead? Looky here, didn't de line pull loose en de +raf' go a-hummin' down de river, en leave you en de canoe behine in de +fog?" + +"What fog?" + +"Why, de fog!--de fog dat's been aroun' all night. En didn't you whoop, +en didn't I whoop, tell we got mix' up in de islands en one un us got +los' en t'other one was jis' as good as los', 'kase he didn' know whah he +wuz? En didn't I bust up agin a lot er dem islands en have a turrible +time en mos' git drownded? Now ain' dat so, boss--ain't it so? You +answer me dat." + +"Well, this is too many for me, Jim. I hain't seen no fog, nor no +islands, nor no troubles, nor nothing. I been setting here talking with +you all night till you went to sleep about ten minutes ago, and I reckon +I done the same. You couldn't a got drunk in that time, so of course +you've been dreaming." + +"Dad fetch it, how is I gwyne to dream all dat in ten minutes?" + +"Well, hang it all, you did dream it, because there didn't any of it +happen." + +"But, Huck, it's all jis' as plain to me as--" + +"It don't make no difference how plain it is; there ain't nothing in it. +I know, because I've been here all the time." + +Jim didn't say nothing for about five minutes, but set there studying +over it. Then he says: + +"Well, den, I reck'n I did dream it, Huck; but dog my cats ef it ain't de +powerfullest dream I ever see. En I hain't ever had no dream b'fo' dat's +tired me like dis one." + +"Oh, well, that's all right, because a dream does tire a body like +everything sometimes. But this one was a staving dream; tell me all +about it, Jim." + +So Jim went to work and told me the whole thing right through, just as it +happened, only he painted it up considerable. Then he said he must start +in and "'terpret" it, because it was sent for a warning. He said the +first towhead stood for a man that would try to do us some good, but the +current was another man that would get us away from him. The whoops was +warnings that would come to us every now and then, and if we didn't try +hard to make out to understand them they'd just take us into bad luck, +'stead of keeping us out of it. The lot of towheads was troubles we was +going to get into with quarrelsome people and all kinds of mean folks, +but if we minded our business and didn't talk back and aggravate them, we +would pull through and get out of the fog and into the big clear river, +which was the free States, and wouldn't have no more trouble. + +It had clouded up pretty dark just after I got on to the raft, but it was +clearing up again now. + +"Oh, well, that's all interpreted well enough as far as it goes, Jim," I +says; "but what does THESE things stand for?" + +It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar. You could +see them first-rate now. + +Jim looked at the trash, and then looked at me, and back at the trash +again. He had got the dream fixed so strong in his head that he couldn't +seem to shake it loose and get the facts back into its place again right +away. But when he did get the thing straightened around he looked at me +steady without ever smiling, and says: + +"What do dey stan' for? I'se gwyne to tell you. When I got all wore out +wid work, en wid de callin' for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuz mos' +broke bekase you wuz los', en I didn' k'yer no' mo' what become er me en +de raf'. En when I wake up en fine you back agin, all safe en soun', de +tears come, en I could a got down on my knees en kiss yo' foot, I's so +thankful. En all you wuz thinkin' 'bout wuz how you could make a fool uv +ole Jim wid a lie. Dat truck dah is TRASH; en trash is what people is +dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren's en makes 'em ashamed." + +Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in there without +saying anything but that. But that was enough. It made me feel so mean +I could almost kissed HIS foot to get him to take it back. + +It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble +myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it +afterwards, neither. I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn't +done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way. + +CHAPTER XVI. + +WE slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behind a +monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession. She had +four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many as thirty +men, likely. She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, and an open +camp fire in the middle, and a tall flag-pole at each end. There was a +power of style about her. It AMOUNTED to something being a raftsman on +such a craft as that. + +We went drifting down into a big bend, and the night clouded up and got +hot. The river was very wide, and was walled with solid timber on both +sides; you couldn't see a break in it hardly ever, or a light. We talked +about Cairo, and wondered whether we would know it when we got to it. I +said likely we wouldn't, because I had heard say there warn't but about a +dozen houses there, and if they didn't happen to have them lit up, how +was we going to know we was passing a town? Jim said if the two big +rivers joined together there, that would show. But I said maybe we might +think we was passing the foot of an island and coming into the same old +river again. That disturbed Jim--and me too. So the question was, what +to do? I said, paddle ashore the first time a light showed, and tell +them pap was behind, coming along with a trading-scow, and was a green +hand at the business, and wanted to know how far it was to Cairo. Jim +thought it was a good idea, so we took a smoke on it and waited. + +There warn't nothing to do now but to look out sharp for the town, and +not pass it without seeing it. He said he'd be mighty sure to see it, +because he'd be a free man the minute he seen it, but if he missed it +he'd be in a slave country again and no more show for freedom. Every +little while he jumps up and says: + +"Dah she is?" + +But it warn't. It was Jack-o'-lanterns, or lightning bugs; so he set +down again, and went to watching, same as before. Jim said it made him +all over trembly and feverish to be so close to freedom. Well, I can +tell you it made me all over trembly and feverish, too, to hear him, +because I begun to get it through my head that he WAS most free--and who +was to blame for it? Why, ME. I couldn't get that out of my conscience, +no how nor no way. It got to troubling me so I couldn't rest; I couldn't +stay still in one place. It hadn't ever come home to me before, what +this thing was that I was doing. But now it did; and it stayed with me, +and scorched me more and more. I tried to make out to myself that I +warn't to blame, because I didn't run Jim off from his rightful owner; +but it warn't no use, conscience up and says, every time, "But you knowed +he was running for his freedom, and you could a paddled ashore and told +somebody." That was so--I couldn't get around that noway. That was +where it pinched. Conscience says to me, "What had poor Miss Watson done +to you that you could see her nigger go off right under your eyes and +never say one single word? What did that poor old woman do to you that +you could treat her so mean? Why, she tried to learn you your book, she +tried to learn you your manners, she tried to be good to you every way +she knowed how. THAT'S what she done." + +I got to feeling so mean and so miserable I most wished I was dead. I +fidgeted up and down the raft, abusing myself to myself, and Jim was +fidgeting up and down past me. We neither of us could keep still. Every +time he danced around and says, "Dah's Cairo!" it went through me like a +shot, and I thought if it WAS Cairo I reckoned I would die of +miserableness. + +Jim talked out loud all the time while I was talking to myself. He was +saying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free State he +would go to saving up money and never spend a single cent, and when he +got enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close to +where Miss Watson lived; and then they would both work to buy the two +children, and if their master wouldn't sell them, they'd get an +Ab'litionist to go and steal them. + +It most froze me to hear such talk. He wouldn't ever dared to talk such +talk in his life before. Just see what a difference it made in him the +minute he judged he was about free. It was according to the old saying, +"Give a nigger an inch and he'll take an ell." Thinks I, this is what +comes of my not thinking. Here was this nigger, which I had as good as +helped to run away, coming right out flat-footed and saying he would +steal his children--children that belonged to a man I didn't even know; a +man that hadn't ever done me no harm. + +I was sorry to hear Jim say that, it was such a lowering of him. My +conscience got to stirring me up hotter than ever, until at last I says +to it, "Let up on me--it ain't too late yet--I'll paddle ashore at the +first light and tell." I felt easy and happy and light as a feather +right off. All my troubles was gone. I went to looking out sharp for a +light, and sort of singing to myself. By and by one showed. Jim sings +out: + +"We's safe, Huck, we's safe! Jump up and crack yo' heels! Dat's de good +ole Cairo at las', I jis knows it!" + +I says: + +"I'll take the canoe and go and see, Jim. It mightn't be, you know." + +He jumped and got the canoe ready, and put his old coat in the bottom for +me to set on, and give me the paddle; and as I shoved off, he says: + +"Pooty soon I'll be a-shout'n' for joy, en I'll say, it's all on accounts +o' Huck; I's a free man, en I couldn't ever ben free ef it hadn' ben for +Huck; Huck done it. Jim won't ever forgit you, Huck; you's de bes' fren' +Jim's ever had; en you's de ONLY fren' ole Jim's got now." + +I was paddling off, all in a sweat to tell on him; but when he says this, +it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. I went along slow +then, and I warn't right down certain whether I was glad I started or +whether I warn't. When I was fifty yards off, Jim says: + +"Dah you goes, de ole true Huck; de on'y white genlman dat ever kep' his +promise to ole Jim." + +Well, I just felt sick. But I says, I GOT to do it--I can't get OUT of +it. Right then along comes a skiff with two men in it with guns, and +they stopped and I stopped. One of them says: + +"What's that yonder?" + +"A piece of a raft," I says. + +"Do you belong on it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Any men on it?" + +"Only one, sir." + +"Well, there's five niggers run off to-night up yonder, above the head of +the bend. Is your man white or black?" + +I didn't answer up prompt. I tried to, but the words wouldn't come. I +tried for a second or two to brace up and out with it, but I warn't man +enough--hadn't the spunk of a rabbit. I see I was weakening; so I just +give up trying, and up and says: + +"He's white." + +"I reckon we'll go and see for ourselves." + +"I wish you would," says I, "because it's pap that's there, and maybe +you'd help me tow the raft ashore where the light is. He's sick--and so +is mam and Mary Ann." + +"Oh, the devil! we're in a hurry, boy. But I s'pose we've got to. Come, +buckle to your paddle, and let's get along." + +I buckled to my paddle and they laid to their oars. When we had made a +stroke or two, I says: + +"Pap'll be mighty much obleeged to you, I can tell you. Everybody goes +away when I want them to help me tow the raft ashore, and I can't do it +by myself." + +"Well, that's infernal mean. Odd, too. Say, boy, what's the matter with +your father?" + +"It's the--a--the--well, it ain't anything much." + +They stopped pulling. It warn't but a mighty little ways to the raft +now. One says: + +"Boy, that's a lie. What IS the matter with your pap? Answer up square +now, and it'll be the better for you." + +"I will, sir, I will, honest--but don't leave us, please. It's the--the +--Gentlemen, if you'll only pull ahead, and let me heave you the +headline, you won't have to come a-near the raft--please do." + +"Set her back, John, set her back!" says one. They backed water. "Keep +away, boy--keep to looard. Confound it, I just expect the wind has +blowed it to us. Your pap's got the small-pox, and you know it precious +well. Why didn't you come out and say so? Do you want to spread it all +over?" + +"Well," says I, a-blubbering, "I've told everybody before, and they just +went away and left us." + +"Poor devil, there's something in that. We are right down sorry for you, +but we--well, hang it, we don't want the small-pox, you see. Look here, +I'll tell you what to do. Don't you try to land by yourself, or you'll +smash everything to pieces. You float along down about twenty miles, and +you'll come to a town on the left-hand side of the river. It will be +long after sun-up then, and when you ask for help you tell them your +folks are all down with chills and fever. Don't be a fool again, and let +people guess what is the matter. Now we're trying to do you a kindness; +so you just put twenty miles between us, that's a good boy. It wouldn't +do any good to land yonder where the light is--it's only a wood-yard. +Say, I reckon your father's poor, and I'm bound to say he's in pretty +hard luck. Here, I'll put a twenty-dollar gold piece on this board, and +you get it when it floats by. I feel mighty mean to leave you; but my +kingdom! it won't do to fool with small-pox, don't you see?" + +"Hold on, Parker," says the other man, "here's a twenty to put on the +board for me. Good-bye, boy; you do as Mr. Parker told you, and you'll +be all right." + +"That's so, my boy--good-bye, good-bye. If you see any runaway niggers +you get help and nab them, and you can make some money by it." + +"Good-bye, sir," says I; "I won't let no runaway niggers get by me if I +can help it." + +They went off and I got aboard the raft, feeling bad and low, because I +knowed very well I had done wrong, and I see it warn't no use for me to +try to learn to do right; a body that don't get STARTED right when he's +little ain't got no show--when the pinch comes there ain't nothing to +back him up and keep him to his work, and so he gets beat. Then I +thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on; s'pose you'd a done right +and give Jim up, would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, +I'd feel bad--I'd feel just the same way I do now. Well, then, says I, +what's the use you learning to do right when it's troublesome to do right +and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same? I was +stuck. I couldn't answer that. So I reckoned I wouldn't bother no more +about it, but after this always do whichever come handiest at the time. + +I went into the wigwam; Jim warn't there. I looked all around; he warn't +anywhere. I says: + +"Jim!" + +"Here I is, Huck. Is dey out o' sight yit? Don't talk loud." + +He was in the river under the stern oar, with just his nose out. I told +him they were out of sight, so he come aboard. He says: + +"I was a-listenin' to all de talk, en I slips into de river en was gwyne +to shove for sho' if dey come aboard. Den I was gwyne to swim to de raf' +agin when dey was gone. But lawsy, how you did fool 'em, Huck! Dat WUZ +de smartes' dodge! I tell you, chile, I'spec it save' ole Jim--ole Jim +ain't going to forgit you for dat, honey." + +Then we talked about the money. It was a pretty good raise--twenty +dollars apiece. Jim said we could take deck passage on a steamboat now, +and the money would last us as far as we wanted to go in the free States. +He said twenty mile more warn't far for the raft to go, but he wished we +was already there. + +Towards daybreak we tied up, and Jim was mighty particular about hiding +the raft good. Then he worked all day fixing things in bundles, and +getting all ready to quit rafting. + +That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town away down +in a left-hand bend. + +I went off in the canoe to ask about it. Pretty soon I found a man out +in the river with a skiff, setting a trot-line. I ranged up and says: + +"Mister, is that town Cairo?" + +"Cairo? no. You must be a blame' fool." + +"What town is it, mister?" + +"If you want to know, go and find out. If you stay here botherin' around +me for about a half a minute longer you'll get something you won't want." + +I paddled to the raft. Jim was awful disappointed, but I said never +mind, Cairo would be the next place, I reckoned. + +We passed another town before daylight, and I was going out again; but it +was high ground, so I didn't go. No high ground about Cairo, Jim said. +I had forgot it. We laid up for the day on a towhead tolerable close to +the left-hand bank. I begun to suspicion something. So did Jim. I +says: + +"Maybe we went by Cairo in the fog that night." + +He says: + +"Doan' le's talk about it, Huck. Po' niggers can't have no luck. I +awluz 'spected dat rattlesnake-skin warn't done wid its work." + +"I wish I'd never seen that snake-skin, Jim--I do wish I'd never laid +eyes on it." + +"It ain't yo' fault, Huck; you didn' know. Don't you blame yo'self 'bout +it." + +When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sure enough, +and outside was the old regular Muddy! So it was all up with Cairo. + +We talked it all over. It wouldn't do to take to the shore; we couldn't +take the raft up the stream, of course. There warn't no way but to wait +for dark, and start back in the canoe and take the chances. So we slept +all day amongst the cottonwood thicket, so as to be fresh for the work, +and when we went back to the raft about dark the canoe was gone! + +We didn't say a word for a good while. There warn't anything to say. We +both knowed well enough it was some more work of the rattlesnake-skin; so +what was the use to talk about it? It would only look like we was +finding fault, and that would be bound to fetch more bad luck--and keep +on fetching it, too, till we knowed enough to keep still. + +By and by we talked about what we better do, and found there warn't no +way but just to go along down with the raft till we got a chance to buy a +canoe to go back in. We warn't going to borrow it when there warn't +anybody around, the way pap would do, for that might set people after us. + +So we shoved out after dark on the raft. + +Anybody that don't believe yet that it's foolishness to handle a snake- +skin, after all that that snake-skin done for us, will believe it now if +they read on and see what more it done for us. + +The place to buy canoes is off of rafts laying up at shore. But we +didn't see no rafts laying up; so we went along during three hours and +more. Well, the night got gray and ruther thick, which is the next +meanest thing to fog. You can't tell the shape of the river, and you +can't see no distance. It got to be very late and still, and then along +comes a steamboat up the river. We lit the lantern, and judged she would +see it. Up-stream boats didn't generly come close to us; they go out and +follow the bars and hunt for easy water under the reefs; but nights like +this they bull right up the channel against the whole river. + +We could hear her pounding along, but we didn't see her good till she was +close. She aimed right for us. Often they do that and try to see how +close they can come without touching; sometimes the wheel bites off a +sweep, and then the pilot sticks his head out and laughs, and thinks he's +mighty smart. Well, here she comes, and we said she was going to try and +shave us; but she didn't seem to be sheering off a bit. She was a big +one, and she was coming in a hurry, too, looking like a black cloud with +rows of glow-worms around it; but all of a sudden she bulged out, big and +scary, with a long row of wide-open furnace doors shining like red-hot +teeth, and her monstrous bows and guards hanging right over us. There +was a yell at us, and a jingling of bells to stop the engines, a powwow +of cussing, and whistling of steam--and as Jim went overboard on one side +and I on the other, she come smashing straight through the raft. + +I dived--and I aimed to find the bottom, too, for a thirty-foot wheel had +got to go over me, and I wanted it to have plenty of room. I could +always stay under water a minute; this time I reckon I stayed under a +minute and a half. Then I bounced for the top in a hurry, for I was +nearly busting. I popped out to my armpits and blowed the water out of +my nose, and puffed a bit. Of course there was a booming current; and of +course that boat started her engines again ten seconds after she stopped +them, for they never cared much for raftsmen; so now she was churning +along up the river, out of sight in the thick weather, though I could +hear her. + +I sung out for Jim about a dozen times, but I didn't get any answer; so I +grabbed a plank that touched me while I was "treading water," and struck +out for shore, shoving it ahead of me. But I made out to see that the +drift of the current was towards the left-hand shore, which meant that I +was in a crossing; so I changed off and went that way. + +It was one of these long, slanting, two-mile crossings; so I was a good +long time in getting over. I made a safe landing, and clumb up the bank. +I couldn't see but a little ways, but I went poking along over rough +ground for a quarter of a mile or more, and then I run across a big old- +fashioned double log-house before I noticed it. I was going to rush by +and get away, but a lot of dogs jumped out and went to howling and +barking at me, and I knowed better than to move another peg. + +CHAPTER XVII. + +IN about a minute somebody spoke out of a window without putting his head +out, and says: + +"Be done, boys! Who's there?" + +I says: + +"It's me." + +"Who's me?" + +"George Jackson, sir." + +"What do you want?" + +"I don't want nothing, sir. I only want to go along by, but the dogs +won't let me." + +"What are you prowling around here this time of night for--hey?" + +"I warn't prowling around, sir, I fell overboard off of the steamboat." + +"Oh, you did, did you? Strike a light there, somebody. What did you say +your name was?" + +"George Jackson, sir. I'm only a boy." + +"Look here, if you're telling the truth you needn't be afraid--nobody'll +hurt you. But don't try to budge; stand right where you are. Rouse out +Bob and Tom, some of you, and fetch the guns. George Jackson, is there +anybody with you?" + +"No, sir, nobody." + +I heard the people stirring around in the house now, and see a light. +The man sung out: + +"Snatch that light away, Betsy, you old fool--ain't you got any sense? +Put it on the floor behind the front door. Bob, if you and Tom are +ready, take your places." + +"All ready." + +"Now, George Jackson, do you know the Shepherdsons?" + +"No, sir; I never heard of them." + +"Well, that may be so, and it mayn't. Now, all ready. Step forward, +George Jackson. And mind, don't you hurry--come mighty slow. If there's +anybody with you, let him keep back--if he shows himself he'll be shot. +Come along now. Come slow; push the door open yourself--just enough to +squeeze in, d' you hear?" + +I didn't hurry; I couldn't if I'd a wanted to. I took one slow step at a +time and there warn't a sound, only I thought I could hear my heart. The +dogs were as still as the humans, but they followed a little behind me. +When I got to the three log doorsteps I heard them unlocking and +unbarring and unbolting. I put my hand on the door and pushed it a +little and a little more till somebody said, "There, that's enough--put +your head in." I done it, but I judged they would take it off. + +The candle was on the floor, and there they all was, looking at me, and +me at them, for about a quarter of a minute: Three big men with guns +pointed at me, which made me wince, I tell you; the oldest, gray and +about sixty, the other two thirty or more--all of them fine and handsome +--and the sweetest old gray-headed lady, and back of her two young women +which I couldn't see right well. The old gentleman says: + +"There; I reckon it's all right. Come in." + +As soon as I was in the old gentleman he locked the door and barred it +and bolted it, and told the young men to come in with their guns, and +they all went in a big parlor that had a new rag carpet on the floor, and +got together in a corner that was out of the range of the front windows-- +there warn't none on the side. They held the candle, and took a good +look at me, and all said, "Why, HE ain't a Shepherdson--no, there ain't +any Shepherdson about him." Then the old man said he hoped I wouldn't +mind being searched for arms, because he didn't mean no harm by it--it +was only to make sure. So he didn't pry into my pockets, but only felt +outside with his hands, and said it was all right. He told me to make +myself easy and at home, and tell all about myself; but the old lady +says: + +"Why, bless you, Saul, the poor thing's as wet as he can be; and don't +you reckon it may be he's hungry?" + +"True for you, Rachel--I forgot." + +So the old lady says: + +"Betsy" (this was a nigger woman), "you fly around and get him something +to eat as quick as you can, poor thing; and one of you girls go and wake +up Buck and tell him--oh, here he is himself. Buck, take this little +stranger and get the wet clothes off from him and dress him up in some of +yours that's dry." + +Buck looked about as old as me--thirteen or fourteen or along there, +though he was a little bigger than me. He hadn't on anything but a +shirt, and he was very frowzy-headed. He came in gaping and digging one +fist into his eyes, and he was dragging a gun along with the other one. +He says: + +"Ain't they no Shepherdsons around?" + +They said, no, 'twas a false alarm. + +"Well," he says, "if they'd a ben some, I reckon I'd a got one." + +They all laughed, and Bob says: + +"Why, Buck, they might have scalped us all, you've been so slow in +coming." + +"Well, nobody come after me, and it ain't right I'm always kept down; I +don't get no show." + +"Never mind, Buck, my boy," says the old man, "you'll have show enough, +all in good time, don't you fret about that. Go 'long with you now, and +do as your mother told you." + +When we got up-stairs to his room he got me a coarse shirt and a +roundabout and pants of his, and I put them on. While I was at it he +asked me what my name was, but before I could tell him he started to tell +me about a bluejay and a young rabbit he had catched in the woods day +before yesterday, and he asked me where Moses was when the candle went +out. I said I didn't know; I hadn't heard about it before, no way. + +"Well, guess," he says. + +"How'm I going to guess," says I, "when I never heard tell of it before?" + +"But you can guess, can't you? It's just as easy." + +"WHICH candle?" I says. + +"Why, any candle," he says. + +"I don't know where he was," says I; "where was he?" + +"Why, he was in the DARK! That's where he was!" + +"Well, if you knowed where he was, what did you ask me for?" + +"Why, blame it, it's a riddle, don't you see? Say, how long are you +going to stay here? You got to stay always. We can just have booming +times--they don't have no school now. Do you own a dog? I've got a +dog--and he'll go in the river and bring out chips that you throw in. Do +you like to comb up Sundays, and all that kind of foolishness? You bet I +don't, but ma she makes me. Confound these ole britches! I reckon I'd +better put 'em on, but I'd ruther not, it's so warm. Are you all ready? +All right. Come along, old hoss." + +Cold corn-pone, cold corn-beef, butter and buttermilk--that is what they +had for me down there, and there ain't nothing better that ever I've come +across yet. Buck and his ma and all of them smoked cob pipes, except the +nigger woman, which was gone, and the two young women. They all smoked +and talked, and I eat and talked. The young women had quilts around +them, and their hair down their backs. They all asked me questions, and +I told them how pap and me and all the family was living on a little farm +down at the bottom of Arkansaw, and my sister Mary Ann run off and got +married and never was heard of no more, and Bill went to hunt them and he +warn't heard of no more, and Tom and Mort died, and then there warn't +nobody but just me and pap left, and he was just trimmed down to nothing, +on account of his troubles; so when he died I took what there was left, +because the farm didn't belong to us, and started up the river, deck +passage, and fell overboard; and that was how I come to be here. So they +said I could have a home there as long as I wanted it. Then it was most +daylight and everybody went to bed, and I went to bed with Buck, and when +I waked up in the morning, drat it all, I had forgot what my name was. +So I laid there about an hour trying to think, and when Buck waked up I +says: + +"Can you spell, Buck?" + +"Yes," he says. + +"I bet you can't spell my name," says I. + +"I bet you what you dare I can," says he. + +"All right," says I, "go ahead." + +"G-e-o-r-g-e J-a-x-o-n--there now," he says. + +"Well," says I, "you done it, but I didn't think you could. It ain't no +slouch of a name to spell--right off without studying." + +I set it down, private, because somebody might want ME to spell it next, +and so I wanted to be handy with it and rattle it off like I was used to +it. + +It was a mighty nice family, and a mighty nice house, too. I hadn't seen +no house out in the country before that was so nice and had so much +style. It didn't have an iron latch on the front door, nor a wooden one +with a buckskin string, but a brass knob to turn, the same as houses in +town. There warn't no bed in the parlor, nor a sign of a bed; but heaps +of parlors in towns has beds in them. There was a big fireplace that was +bricked on the bottom, and the bricks was kept clean and red by pouring +water on them and scrubbing them with another brick; sometimes they wash +them over with red water-paint that they call Spanish-brown, same as they +do in town. They had big brass dog-irons that could hold up a saw-log. +There was a clock on the middle of the mantelpiece, with a picture of a +town painted on the bottom half of the glass front, and a round place in +the middle of it for the sun, and you could see the pendulum swinging +behind it. It was beautiful to hear that clock tick; and sometimes when +one of these peddlers had been along and scoured her up and got her in +good shape, she would start in and strike a hundred and fifty before she +got tuckered out. They wouldn't took any money for her. + +Well, there was a big outlandish parrot on each side of the clock, made +out of something like chalk, and painted up gaudy. By one of the parrots +was a cat made of crockery, and a crockery dog by the other; and when you +pressed down on them they squeaked, but didn't open their mouths nor look +different nor interested. They squeaked through underneath. There was a +couple of big wild-turkey-wing fans spread out behind those things. On +the table in the middle of the room was a kind of a lovely crockery +basket that had apples and oranges and peaches and grapes piled up in it, +which was much redder and yellower and prettier than real ones is, but +they warn't real because you could see where pieces had got chipped off +and showed the white chalk, or whatever it was, underneath. + +This table had a cover made out of beautiful oilcloth, with a red and +blue spread-eagle painted on it, and a painted border all around. It +come all the way from Philadelphia, they said. There was some books, +too, piled up perfectly exact, on each corner of the table. One was a +big family Bible full of pictures. One was Pilgrim's Progress, about a +man that left his family, it didn't say why. I read considerable in it +now and then. The statements was interesting, but tough. Another was +Friendship's Offering, full of beautiful stuff and poetry; but I didn't +read the poetry. Another was Henry Clay's Speeches, and another was Dr. +Gunn's Family Medicine, which told you all about what to do if a body was +sick or dead. There was a hymn book, and a lot of other books. And +there was nice split-bottom chairs, and perfectly sound, too--not bagged +down in the middle and busted, like an old basket. + +They had pictures hung on the walls--mainly Washingtons and Lafayettes, +and battles, and Highland Marys, and one called "Signing the +Declaration." There was some that they called crayons, which one of the +daughters which was dead made her own self when she was only fifteen +years old. They was different from any pictures I ever see before-- +blacker, mostly, than is common. One was a woman in a slim black dress, +belted small under the armpits, with bulges like a cabbage in the middle +of the sleeves, and a large black scoop-shovel bonnet with a black veil, +and white slim ankles crossed about with black tape, and very wee black +slippers, like a chisel, and she was leaning pensive on a tombstone on +her right elbow, under a weeping willow, and her other hand hanging down +her side holding a white handkerchief and a reticule, and underneath the +picture it said "Shall I Never See Thee More Alas." Another one was a +young lady with her hair all combed up straight to the top of her head, +and knotted there in front of a comb like a chair-back, and she was +crying into a handkerchief and had a dead bird laying on its back in her +other hand with its heels up, and underneath the picture it said "I Shall +Never Hear Thy Sweet Chirrup More Alas." There was one where a young +lady was at a window looking up at the moon, and tears running down her +cheeks; and she had an open letter in one hand with black sealing wax +showing on one edge of it, and she was mashing a locket with a chain to +it against her mouth, and underneath the picture it said "And Art Thou +Gone Yes Thou Art Gone Alas." These was all nice pictures, I reckon, but +I didn't somehow seem to take to them, because if ever I was down a +little they always give me the fan-tods. Everybody was sorry she died, +because she had laid out a lot more of these pictures to do, and a body +could see by what she had done what they had lost. But I reckoned that +with her disposition she was having a better time in the graveyard. She +was at work on what they said was her greatest picture when she took +sick, and every day and every night it was her prayer to be allowed to +live till she got it done, but she never got the chance. It was a +picture of a young woman in a long white gown, standing on the rail of a +bridge all ready to jump off, with her hair all down her back, and +looking up to the moon, with the tears running down her face, and she had +two arms folded across her breast, and two arms stretched out in front, +and two more reaching up towards the moon--and the idea was to see which +pair would look best, and then scratch out all the other arms; but, as I +was saying, she died before she got her mind made up, and now they kept +this picture over the head of the bed in her room, and every time her +birthday come they hung flowers on it. Other times it was hid with a +little curtain. The young woman in the picture had a kind of a nice +sweet face, but there was so many arms it made her look too spidery, +seemed to me. + +This young girl kept a scrap-book when she was alive, and used to paste +obituaries and accidents and cases of patient suffering in it out of the +Presbyterian Observer, and write poetry after them out of her own head. +It was very good poetry. This is what she wrote about a boy by the name +of Stephen Dowling Bots that fell down a well and was drownded: + +ODE TO STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS, DEC'D + +And did young Stephen sicken, And did young Stephen die? And did the sad +hearts thicken, And did the mourners cry? + +No; such was not the fate of Young Stephen Dowling Bots; Though sad +hearts round him thickened, 'Twas not from sickness' shots. + +No whooping-cough did rack his frame, Nor measles drear with spots; Not +these impaired the sacred name Of Stephen Dowling Bots. + +Despised love struck not with woe That head of curly knots, Nor stomach +troubles laid him low, Young Stephen Dowling Bots. + +O no. Then list with tearful eye, Whilst I his fate do tell. His soul +did from this cold world fly By falling down a well. + +They got him out and emptied him; Alas it was too late; His spirit was +gone for to sport aloft In the realms of the good and great. + +If Emmeline Grangerford could make poetry like that before she was +fourteen, there ain't no telling what she could a done by and by. Buck +said she could rattle off poetry like nothing. She didn't ever have to +stop to think. He said she would slap down a line, and if she couldn't +find anything to rhyme with it would just scratch it out and slap down +another one, and go ahead. She warn't particular; she could write about +anything you choose to give her to write about just so it was sadful. +Every time a man died, or a woman died, or a child died, she would be on +hand with her "tribute" before he was cold. She called them tributes. +The neighbors said it was the doctor first, then Emmeline, then the +undertaker--the undertaker never got in ahead of Emmeline but once, and +then she hung fire on a rhyme for the dead person's name, which was +Whistler. She warn't ever the same after that; she never complained, but +she kinder pined away and did not live long. Poor thing, many's the time +I made myself go up to the little room that used to be hers and get out +her poor old scrap-book and read in it when her pictures had been +aggravating me and I had soured on her a little. I liked all that +family, dead ones and all, and warn't going to let anything come between +us. Poor Emmeline made poetry about all the dead people when she was +alive, and it didn't seem right that there warn't nobody to make some +about her now she was gone; so I tried to sweat out a verse or two +myself, but I couldn't seem to make it go somehow. They kept Emmeline's +room trim and nice, and all the things fixed in it just the way she liked +to have them when she was alive, and nobody ever slept there. The old +lady took care of the room herself, though there was plenty of niggers, +and she sewed there a good deal and read her Bible there mostly. + +Well, as I was saying about the parlor, there was beautiful curtains on +the windows: white, with pictures painted on them of castles with vines +all down the walls, and cattle coming down to drink. There was a little +old piano, too, that had tin pans in it, I reckon, and nothing was ever +so lovely as to hear the young ladies sing "The Last Link is Broken" and +play "The Battle of Prague" on it. The walls of all the rooms was +plastered, and most had carpets on the floors, and the whole house was +whitewashed on the outside. + +It was a double house, and the big open place betwixt them was roofed and +floored, and sometimes the table was set there in the middle of the day, +and it was a cool, comfortable place. Nothing couldn't be better. And +warn't the cooking good, and just bushels of it too! + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +COL. GRANGERFORD was a gentleman, you see. He was a gentleman all over; +and so was his family. He was well born, as the saying is, and that's +worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas said, +and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy in our town; +and pap he always said it, too, though he warn't no more quality than a +mudcat himself. Col. Grangerford was very tall and very slim, and had a +darkish-paly complexion, not a sign of red in it anywheres; he was clean +shaved every morning all over his thin face, and he had the thinnest kind +of lips, and the thinnest kind of nostrils, and a high nose, and heavy +eyebrows, and the blackest kind of eyes, sunk so deep back that they +seemed like they was looking out of caverns at you, as you may say. His +forehead was high, and his hair was black and straight and hung to his +shoulders. His hands was long and thin, and every day of his life he put +on a clean shirt and a full suit from head to foot made out of linen so +white it hurt your eyes to look at it; and on Sundays he wore a blue +tail-coat with brass buttons on it. He carried a mahogany cane with a +silver head to it. There warn't no frivolishness about him, not a bit, +and he warn't ever loud. He was as kind as he could be--you could feel +that, you know, and so you had confidence. Sometimes he smiled, and it +was good to see; but when he straightened himself up like a liberty-pole, +and the lightning begun to flicker out from under his eyebrows, you +wanted to climb a tree first, and find out what the matter was +afterwards. He didn't ever have to tell anybody to mind their manners-- +everybody was always good-mannered where he was. Everybody loved to have +him around, too; he was sunshine most always--I mean he made it seem +like good weather. When he turned into a cloudbank it was awful dark for +half a minute, and that was enough; there wouldn't nothing go wrong again +for a week. + +When him and the old lady come down in the morning all the family got up +out of their chairs and give them good-day, and didn't set down again +till they had set down. Then Tom and Bob went to the sideboard where the +decanter was, and mixed a glass of bitters and handed it to him, and he +held it in his hand and waited till Tom's and Bob's was mixed, and then +they bowed and said, "Our duty to you, sir, and madam;" and THEY bowed +the least bit in the world and said thank you, and so they drank, all +three, and Bob and Tom poured a spoonful of water on the sugar and the +mite of whisky or apple brandy in the bottom of their tumblers, and give +it to me and Buck, and we drank to the old people too. + +Bob was the oldest and Tom next--tall, beautiful men with very broad +shoulders and brown faces, and long black hair and black eyes. They +dressed in white linen from head to foot, like the old gentleman, and +wore broad Panama hats. + +Then there was Miss Charlotte; she was twenty-five, and tall and proud +and grand, but as good as she could be when she warn't stirred up; but +when she was she had a look that would make you wilt in your tracks, like +her father. She was beautiful. + +So was her sister, Miss Sophia, but it was a different kind. She was +gentle and sweet like a dove, and she was only twenty. + +Each person had their own nigger to wait on them--Buck too. My nigger +had a monstrous easy time, because I warn't used to having anybody do +anything for me, but Buck's was on the jump most of the time. + +This was all there was of the family now, but there used to be more-- +three sons; they got killed; and Emmeline that died. + +The old gentleman owned a lot of farms and over a hundred niggers. +Sometimes a stack of people would come there, horseback, from ten or +fifteen mile around, and stay five or six days, and have such junketings +round about and on the river, and dances and picnics in the woods +daytimes, and balls at the house nights. These people was mostly +kinfolks of the family. The men brought their guns with them. It was a +handsome lot of quality, I tell you. + +There was another clan of aristocracy around there--five or six families +--mostly of the name of Shepherdson. They was as high-toned and well +born and rich and grand as the tribe of Grangerfords. The Shepherdsons +and Grangerfords used the same steamboat landing, which was about two +mile above our house; so sometimes when I went up there with a lot of our +folks I used to see a lot of the Shepherdsons there on their fine horses. + +One day Buck and me was away out in the woods hunting, and heard a horse +coming. We was crossing the road. Buck says: + +"Quick! Jump for the woods!" + +We done it, and then peeped down the woods through the leaves. Pretty +soon a splendid young man come galloping down the road, setting his horse +easy and looking like a soldier. He had his gun across his pommel. I +had seen him before. It was young Harney Shepherdson. I heard Buck's +gun go off at my ear, and Harney's hat tumbled off from his head. He +grabbed his gun and rode straight to the place where we was hid. But we +didn't wait. We started through the woods on a run. The woods warn't +thick, so I looked over my shoulder to dodge the bullet, and twice I seen +Harney cover Buck with his gun; and then he rode away the way he come--to +get his hat, I reckon, but I couldn't see. We never stopped running till +we got home. The old gentleman's eyes blazed a minute--'twas pleasure, +mainly, I judged--then his face sort of smoothed down, and he says, +kind of gentle: + +"I don't like that shooting from behind a bush. Why didn't you step into +the road, my boy?" + +"The Shepherdsons don't, father. They always take advantage." + +Miss Charlotte she held her head up like a queen while Buck was telling +his tale, and her nostrils spread and her eyes snapped. The two young +men looked dark, but never said nothing. Miss Sophia she turned pale, +but the color come back when she found the man warn't hurt. + +Soon as I could get Buck down by the corn-cribs under the trees by +ourselves, I says: + +"Did you want to kill him, Buck?" + +"Well, I bet I did." + +"What did he do to you?" + +"Him? He never done nothing to me." + +"Well, then, what did you want to kill him for?" + +"Why, nothing--only it's on account of the feud." + +"What's a feud?" + +"Why, where was you raised? Don't you know what a feud is?" + +"Never heard of it before--tell me about it." + +"Well," says Buck, "a feud is this way: A man has a quarrel with another +man, and kills him; then that other man's brother kills HIM; then the +other brothers, on both sides, goes for one another; then the COUSINS +chip in--and by and by everybody's killed off, and there ain't no more +feud. But it's kind of slow, and takes a long time." + +"Has this one been going on long, Buck?" + +"Well, I should RECKON! It started thirty year ago, or som'ers along +there. There was trouble 'bout something, and then a lawsuit to settle +it; and the suit went agin one of the men, and so he up and shot the man +that won the suit--which he would naturally do, of course. Anybody +would." + +"What was the trouble about, Buck?--land?" + +"I reckon maybe--I don't know." + +"Well, who done the shooting? Was it a Grangerford or a Shepherdson?" + +"Laws, how do I know? It was so long ago." + +"Don't anybody know?" + +"Oh, yes, pa knows, I reckon, and some of the other old people; but they +don't know now what the row was about in the first place." + +"Has there been many killed, Buck?" + +"Yes; right smart chance of funerals. But they don't always kill. Pa's +got a few buckshot in him; but he don't mind it 'cuz he don't weigh much, +anyway. Bob's been carved up some with a bowie, and Tom's been hurt once +or twice." + +"Has anybody been killed this year, Buck?" + +"Yes; we got one and they got one. 'Bout three months ago my cousin Bud, +fourteen year old, was riding through the woods on t'other side of the +river, and didn't have no weapon with him, which was blame' foolishness, +and in a lonesome place he hears a horse a-coming behind him, and sees +old Baldy Shepherdson a-linkin' after him with his gun in his hand and +his white hair a-flying in the wind; and 'stead of jumping off and taking +to the brush, Bud 'lowed he could out-run him; so they had it, nip and +tuck, for five mile or more, the old man a-gaining all the time; so at +last Bud seen it warn't any use, so he stopped and faced around so as to +have the bullet holes in front, you know, and the old man he rode up and +shot him down. But he didn't git much chance to enjoy his luck, for +inside of a week our folks laid HIM out." + +"I reckon that old man was a coward, Buck." + +"I reckon he WARN'T a coward. Not by a blame' sight. There ain't a +coward amongst them Shepherdsons--not a one. And there ain't no cowards +amongst the Grangerfords either. Why, that old man kep' up his end in a +fight one day for half an hour against three Grangerfords, and come out +winner. They was all a-horseback; he lit off of his horse and got behind +a little woodpile, and kep' his horse before him to stop the bullets; but +the Grangerfords stayed on their horses and capered around the old man, +and peppered away at him, and he peppered away at them. Him and his +horse both went home pretty leaky and crippled, but the Grangerfords had +to be FETCHED home--and one of 'em was dead, and another died the next +day. No, sir; if a body's out hunting for cowards he don't want to fool +away any time amongst them Shepherdsons, becuz they don't breed any of +that KIND." + +Next Sunday we all went to church, about three mile, everybody a- +horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them +between their knees or stood them handy against the wall. The +Shepherdsons done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching--all about +brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was a +good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a +powerful lot to say about faith and good works and free grace and +preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me +to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet. + +About an hour after dinner everybody was dozing around, some in their +chairs and some in their rooms, and it got to be pretty dull. Buck and a +dog was stretched out on the grass in the sun sound asleep. I went up to +our room, and judged I would take a nap myself. I found that sweet Miss +Sophia standing in her door, which was next to ours, and she took me in +her room and shut the door very soft, and asked me if I liked her, and I +said I did; and she asked me if I would do something for her and not tell +anybody, and I said I would. Then she said she'd forgot her Testament, +and left it in the seat at church between two other books, and would I +slip out quiet and go there and fetch it to her, and not say nothing to +nobody. I said I would. So I slid out and slipped off up the road, and +there warn't anybody at the church, except maybe a hog or two, for there +warn't any lock on the door, and hogs likes a puncheon floor in summer- +time because it's cool. If you notice, most folks don't go to church +only when they've got to; but a hog is different. + +Says I to myself, something's up; it ain't natural for a girl to be in +such a sweat about a Testament. So I give it a shake, and out drops a +little piece of paper with "HALF-PAST TWO" wrote on it with a pencil. I +ransacked it, but couldn't find anything else. I couldn't make anything +out of that, so I put the paper in the book again, and when I got home +and upstairs there was Miss Sophia in her door waiting for me. She +pulled me in and shut the door; then she looked in the Testament till she +found the paper, and as soon as she read it she looked glad; and before a +body could think she grabbed me and give me a squeeze, and said I was the +best boy in the world, and not to tell anybody. She was mighty red in +the face for a minute, and her eyes lighted up, and it made her powerful +pretty. I was a good deal astonished, but when I got my breath I asked +her what the paper was about, and she asked me if I had read it, and I +said no, and she asked me if I could read writing, and I told her "no, +only coarse-hand," and then she said the paper warn't anything but a +book-mark to keep her place, and I might go and play now. + +I went off down to the river, studying over this thing, and pretty soon I +noticed that my nigger was following along behind. When we was out of +sight of the house he looked back and around a second, and then comes a- +running, and says: + +"Mars Jawge, if you'll come down into de swamp I'll show you a whole +stack o' water-moccasins." + +Thinks I, that's mighty curious; he said that yesterday. He oughter know +a body don't love water-moccasins enough to go around hunting for them. +What is he up to, anyway? So I says: + +"All right; trot ahead." + +I followed a half a mile; then he struck out over the swamp, and waded +ankle deep as much as another half-mile. We come to a little flat piece +of land which was dry and very thick with trees and bushes and vines, and +he says: + +"You shove right in dah jist a few steps, Mars Jawge; dah's whah dey is. +I's seed 'm befo'; I don't k'yer to see 'em no mo'." + +Then he slopped right along and went away, and pretty soon the trees hid +him. I poked into the place a-ways and come to a little open patch as +big as a bedroom all hung around with vines, and found a man laying there +asleep--and, by jings, it was my old Jim! + +I waked him up, and I reckoned it was going to be a grand surprise to him +to see me again, but it warn't. He nearly cried he was so glad, but he +warn't surprised. Said he swum along behind me that night, and heard me +yell every time, but dasn't answer, because he didn't want nobody to pick +HIM up and take him into slavery again. Says he: + +"I got hurt a little, en couldn't swim fas', so I wuz a considable ways +behine you towards de las'; when you landed I reck'ned I could ketch up +wid you on de lan' 'dout havin' to shout at you, but when I see dat house +I begin to go slow. I 'uz off too fur to hear what dey say to you--I wuz +'fraid o' de dogs; but when it 'uz all quiet agin I knowed you's in de +house, so I struck out for de woods to wait for day. Early in de mawnin' +some er de niggers come along, gwyne to de fields, en dey tuk me en +showed me dis place, whah de dogs can't track me on accounts o' de water, +en dey brings me truck to eat every night, en tells me how you's a-gitt'n +along." + +"Why didn't you tell my Jack to fetch me here sooner, Jim?" + +"Well, 'twarn't no use to 'sturb you, Huck, tell we could do sumfn--but +we's all right now. I ben a-buyin' pots en pans en vittles, as I got a +chanst, en a-patchin' up de raf' nights when--" + +"WHAT raft, Jim?" + +"Our ole raf'." + +"You mean to say our old raft warn't smashed all to flinders?" + +"No, she warn't. She was tore up a good deal--one en' of her was; but +dey warn't no great harm done, on'y our traps was mos' all los'. Ef we +hadn' dive' so deep en swum so fur under water, en de night hadn' ben so +dark, en we warn't so sk'yerd, en ben sich punkin-heads, as de sayin' is, +we'd a seed de raf'. But it's jis' as well we didn't, 'kase now she's +all fixed up agin mos' as good as new, en we's got a new lot o' stuff, in +de place o' what 'uz los'." + +"Why, how did you get hold of the raft again, Jim--did you catch her?" + +"How I gwyne to ketch her en I out in de woods? No; some er de niggers +foun' her ketched on a snag along heah in de ben', en dey hid her in a +crick 'mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin' 'bout which un 'um +she b'long to de mos' dat I come to heah 'bout it pooty soon, so I ups en +settles de trouble by tellin' 'um she don't b'long to none uv um, but to +you en me; en I ast 'm if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman's +propaty, en git a hid'n for it? Den I gin 'm ten cents apiece, en dey +'uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo' raf's 'ud come along en make +'m rich agin. Dey's mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever I +wants 'm to do fur me I doan' have to ast 'm twice, honey. Dat Jack's a +good nigger, en pooty smart." + +"Yes, he is. He ain't ever told me you was here; told me to come, and +he'd show me a lot of water-moccasins. If anything happens HE ain't +mixed up in it. He can say he never seen us together, and it 'll be the +truth." + +I don't want to talk much about the next day. I reckon I'll cut it +pretty short. I waked up about dawn, and was a-going to turn over and go +to sleep again when I noticed how still it was--didn't seem to be anybody +stirring. That warn't usual. Next I noticed that Buck was up and gone. +Well, I gets up, a-wondering, and goes down stairs--nobody around; +everything as still as a mouse. Just the same outside. Thinks I, what +does it mean? Down by the wood-pile I comes across my Jack, and says: + +"What's it all about?" + +Says he: + +"Don't you know, Mars Jawge?" + +"No," says I, "I don't." + +"Well, den, Miss Sophia's run off! 'deed she has. She run off in de +night some time--nobody don't know jis' when; run off to get married to +dat young Harney Shepherdson, you know--leastways, so dey 'spec. De +fambly foun' it out 'bout half an hour ago--maybe a little mo'--en' I +TELL you dey warn't no time los'. Sich another hurryin' up guns en +hosses YOU never see! De women folks has gone for to stir up de +relations, en ole Mars Saul en de boys tuck dey guns en rode up de river +road for to try to ketch dat young man en kill him 'fo' he kin git acrost +de river wid Miss Sophia. I reck'n dey's gwyne to be mighty rough +times." + +"Buck went off 'thout waking me up." + +"Well, I reck'n he DID! Dey warn't gwyne to mix you up in it. Mars Buck +he loaded up his gun en 'lowed he's gwyne to fetch home a Shepherdson or +bust. Well, dey'll be plenty un 'm dah, I reck'n, en you bet you he'll +fetch one ef he gits a chanst." + +I took up the river road as hard as I could put. By and by I begin to +hear guns a good ways off. When I came in sight of the log store and the +woodpile where the steamboats lands I worked along under the trees and +brush till I got to a good place, and then I clumb up into the forks of a +cottonwood that was out of reach, and watched. There was a wood-rank +four foot high a little ways in front of the tree, and first I was going +to hide behind that; but maybe it was luckier I didn't. + +There was four or five men cavorting around on their horses in the open +place before the log store, cussing and yelling, and trying to get at a +couple of young chaps that was behind the wood-rank alongside of the +steamboat landing; but they couldn't come it. Every time one of them +showed himself on the river side of the woodpile he got shot at. The two +boys was squatting back to back behind the pile, so they could watch both +ways. + +By and by the men stopped cavorting around and yelling. They started +riding towards the store; then up gets one of the boys, draws a steady +bead over the wood-rank, and drops one of them out of his saddle. All +the men jumped off of their horses and grabbed the hurt one and started +to carry him to the store; and that minute the two boys started on the +run. They got half way to the tree I was in before the men noticed. +Then the men see them, and jumped on their horses and took out after +them. They gained on the boys, but it didn't do no good, the boys had +too good a start; they got to the woodpile that was in front of my tree, +and slipped in behind it, and so they had the bulge on the men again. +One of the boys was Buck, and the other was a slim young chap about +nineteen years old. + +The men ripped around awhile, and then rode away. As soon as they was +out of sight I sung out to Buck and told him. He didn't know what to +make of my voice coming out of the tree at first. He was awful +surprised. He told me to watch out sharp and let him know when the men +come in sight again; said they was up to some devilment or other-- +wouldn't be gone long. I wished I was out of that tree, but I dasn't +come down. Buck begun to cry and rip, and 'lowed that him and his cousin +Joe (that was the other young chap) would make up for this day yet. He +said his father and his two brothers was killed, and two or three of the +enemy. Said the Shepherdsons laid for them in ambush. Buck said his +father and brothers ought to waited for their relations--the Shepherdsons +was too strong for them. I asked him what was become of young Harney and +Miss Sophia. He said they'd got across the river and was safe. I was +glad of that; but the way Buck did take on because he didn't manage to +kill Harney that day he shot at him--I hain't ever heard anything like +it. + +All of a sudden, bang! bang! bang! goes three or four guns--the men had +slipped around through the woods and come in from behind without their +horses! The boys jumped for the river--both of them hurt--and as they +swum down the current the men run along the bank shooting at them and +singing out, "Kill them, kill them!" It made me so sick I most fell out +of the tree. I ain't a-going to tell ALL that happened--it would make me +sick again if I was to do that. I wished I hadn't ever come ashore that +night to see such things. I ain't ever going to get shut of them--lots +of times I dream about them. + +I stayed in the tree till it begun to get dark, afraid to come down. +Sometimes I heard guns away off in the woods; and twice I seen little +gangs of men gallop past the log store with guns; so I reckoned the +trouble was still a-going on. I was mighty downhearted; so I made up my +mind I wouldn't ever go anear that house again, because I reckoned I was +to blame, somehow. I judged that that piece of paper meant that Miss +Sophia was to meet Harney somewheres at half-past two and run off; and I +judged I ought to told her father about that paper and the curious way +she acted, and then maybe he would a locked her up, and this awful mess +wouldn't ever happened. + +When I got down out of the tree I crept along down the river bank a +piece, and found the two bodies laying in the edge of the water, and +tugged at them till I got them ashore; then I covered up their faces, and +got away as quick as I could. I cried a little when I was covering up +Buck's face, for he was mighty good to me. + +It was just dark now. I never went near the house, but struck through +the woods and made for the swamp. Jim warn't on his island, so I tramped +off in a hurry for the crick, and crowded through the willows, red-hot to +jump aboard and get out of that awful country. The raft was gone! My +souls, but I was scared! I couldn't get my breath for most a minute. +Then I raised a yell. A voice not twenty-five foot from me says: + +"Good lan'! is dat you, honey? Doan' make no noise." + +It was Jim's voice--nothing ever sounded so good before. I run along the +bank a piece and got aboard, and Jim he grabbed me and hugged me, he was +so glad to see me. He says: + +"Laws bless you, chile, I 'uz right down sho' you's dead agin. Jack's +been heah; he say he reck'n you's ben shot, kase you didn' come home no +mo'; so I's jes' dis minute a startin' de raf' down towards de mouf er de +crick, so's to be all ready for to shove out en leave soon as Jack comes +agin en tells me for certain you IS dead. Lawsy, I's mighty glad to git +you back again, honey." + +I says: + +"All right--that's mighty good; they won't find me, and they'll think +I've been killed, and floated down the river--there's something up there +that 'll help them think so--so don't you lose no time, Jim, but just +shove off for the big water as fast as ever you can." + +I never felt easy till the raft was two mile below there and out in the +middle of the Mississippi. Then we hung up our signal lantern, and +judged that we was free and safe once more. I hadn't had a bite to eat +since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corn-dodgers and buttermilk, and +pork and cabbage and greens--there ain't nothing in the world so good +when it's cooked right--and whilst I eat my supper we talked and had a +good time. I was powerful glad to get away from the feuds, and so was +Jim to get away from the swamp. We said there warn't no home like a +raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a +raft don't. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft. + +CHAPTER XIX. + +TWO or three days and nights went by; I reckon I might say they swum by, +they slid along so quiet and smooth and lovely. Here is the way we put +in the time. It was a monstrous big river down there--sometimes a mile +and a half wide; we run nights, and laid up and hid daytimes; soon as +night was most gone we stopped navigating and tied up--nearly always in +the dead water under a towhead; and then cut young cottonwoods and +willows, and hid the raft with them. Then we set out the lines. Next we +slid into the river and had a swim, so as to freshen up and cool off; +then we set down on the sandy bottom where the water was about knee deep, +and watched the daylight come. Not a sound anywheres--perfectly still-- +just like the whole world was asleep, only sometimes the bullfrogs a- +cluttering, maybe. The first thing to see, looking away over the water, +was a kind of dull line--that was the woods on t'other side; you couldn't +make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more paleness +spreading around; then the river softened up away off, and warn't black +any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots drifting along ever +so far away--trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks-- +rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled up voices, +it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by and by you could see a +streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there's +a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak +look that way; and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the +east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a log-cabin in the edge +of the woods, away on the bank on t'other side of the river, being a +woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through +it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from +over there, so cool and fresh and sweet to smell on account of the woods +and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they've left dead +fish laying around, gars and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next +you've got the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the song- +birds just going it! + +A little smoke couldn't be noticed now, so we would take some fish off of +the lines and cook up a hot breakfast. And afterwards we would watch the +lonesomeness of the river, and kind of lazy along, and by and by lazy off +to sleep. Wake up by and by, and look to see what done it, and maybe see +a steamboat coughing along up-stream, so far off towards the other side +you couldn't tell nothing about her only whether she was a stern-wheel or +side-wheel; then for about an hour there wouldn't be nothing to hear nor +nothing to see--just solid lonesomeness. Next you'd see a raft sliding +by, away off yonder, and maybe a galoot on it chopping, because they're +most always doing it on a raft; you'd see the axe flash and come down-- +you don't hear nothing; you see that axe go up again, and by the time +it's above the man's head then you hear the K'CHUNK!--it had took all +that time to come over the water. So we would put in the day, lazying +around, listening to the stillness. Once there was a thick fog, and the +rafts and things that went by was beating tin pans so the steamboats +wouldn't run over them. A scow or a raft went by so close we could hear +them talking and cussing and laughing--heard them plain; but we couldn't +see no sign of them; it made you feel crawly; it was like spirits +carrying on that way in the air. Jim said he believed it was spirits; +but I says: + +"No; spirits wouldn't say, 'Dern the dern fog.'" + +Soon as it was night out we shoved; when we got her out to about the +middle we let her alone, and let her float wherever the current wanted +her to; then we lit the pipes, and dangled our legs in the water, and +talked about all kinds of things--we was always naked, day and night, +whenever the mosquitoes would let us--the new clothes Buck's folks made +for me was too good to be comfortable, and besides I didn't go much on +clothes, nohow. + +Sometimes we'd have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest +time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water; and maybe a +spark--which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water +you could see a spark or two--on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe +you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. +It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled +with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and +discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he +allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would +have took too long to MAKE so many. Jim said the moon could a LAID them; +well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing against it, +because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. +We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim +allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the nest. + +Once or twice of a night we would see a steamboat slipping along in the +dark, and now and then she would belch a whole world of sparks up out of +her chimbleys, and they would rain down in the river and look awful +pretty; then she would turn a corner and her lights would wink out and +her powwow shut off and leave the river still again; and by and by her +waves would get to us, a long time after she was gone, and joggle the +raft a bit, and after that you wouldn't hear nothing for you couldn't +tell how long, except maybe frogs or something. + +After midnight the people on shore went to bed, and then for two or three +hours the shores was black--no more sparks in the cabin windows. These +sparks was our clock--the first one that showed again meant morning was +coming, so we hunted a place to hide and tie up right away. + +One morning about daybreak I found a canoe and crossed over a chute to +the main shore--it was only two hundred yards--and paddled about a mile +up a crick amongst the cypress woods, to see if I couldn't get some +berries. Just as I was passing a place where a kind of a cowpath crossed +the crick, here comes a couple of men tearing up the path as tight as +they could foot it. I thought I was a goner, for whenever anybody was +after anybody I judged it was ME--or maybe Jim. I was about to dig out +from there in a hurry, but they was pretty close to me then, and sung out +and begged me to save their lives--said they hadn't been doing nothing, +and was being chased for it--said there was men and dogs a-coming. They +wanted to jump right in, but I says: + +"Don't you do it. I don't hear the dogs and horses yet; you've got time +to crowd through the brush and get up the crick a little ways; then you +take to the water and wade down to me and get in--that'll throw the dogs +off the scent." + +They done it, and soon as they was aboard I lit out for our towhead, and +in about five or ten minutes we heard the dogs and the men away off, +shouting. We heard them come along towards the crick, but couldn't see +them; they seemed to stop and fool around a while; then, as we got +further and further away all the time, we couldn't hardly hear them at +all; by the time we had left a mile of woods behind us and struck the +river, everything was quiet, and we paddled over to the towhead and hid +in the cottonwoods and was safe. + +One of these fellows was about seventy or upwards, and had a bald head +and very gray whiskers. He had an old battered-up slouch hat on, and a +greasy blue woollen shirt, and ragged old blue jeans britches stuffed +into his boot-tops, and home-knit galluses--no, he only had one. He had +an old long-tailed blue jeans coat with slick brass buttons flung over +his arm, and both of them had big, fat, ratty-looking carpet-bags. + +The other fellow was about thirty, and dressed about as ornery. After +breakfast we all laid off and talked, and the first thing that come out +was that these chaps didn't know one another. + +"What got you into trouble?" says the baldhead to t'other chap. + +"Well, I'd been selling an article to take the tartar off the teeth--and +it does take it off, too, and generly the enamel along with it--but I +stayed about one night longer than I ought to, and was just in the act of +sliding out when I ran across you on the trail this side of town, and you +told me they were coming, and begged me to help you to get off. So I +told you I was expecting trouble myself, and would scatter out WITH you. +That's the whole yarn--what's yourn? + +"Well, I'd ben a-running' a little temperance revival thar 'bout a week, +and was the pet of the women folks, big and little, for I was makin' it +mighty warm for the rummies, I TELL you, and takin' as much as five or +six dollars a night--ten cents a head, children and niggers free--and +business a-growin' all the time, when somehow or another a little report +got around last night that I had a way of puttin' in my time with a +private jug on the sly. A nigger rousted me out this mornin', and told +me the people was getherin' on the quiet with their dogs and horses, and +they'd be along pretty soon and give me 'bout half an hour's start, and +then run me down if they could; and if they got me they'd tar and feather +me and ride me on a rail, sure. I didn't wait for no breakfast--I warn't +hungry." + +"Old man," said the young one, "I reckon we might double-team it +together; what do you think?" + +"I ain't undisposed. What's your line--mainly?" + +"Jour printer by trade; do a little in patent medicines; theater-actor-- +tragedy, you know; take a turn to mesmerism and phrenology when there's a +chance; teach singing-geography school for a change; sling a lecture +sometimes--oh, I do lots of things--most anything that comes handy, so it +ain't work. What's your lay?" + +"I've done considerble in the doctoring way in my time. Layin' on o' +hands is my best holt--for cancer and paralysis, and sich things; and I +k'n tell a fortune pretty good when I've got somebody along to find out +the facts for me. Preachin's my line, too, and workin' camp-meetin's, +and missionaryin' around." + +Nobody never said anything for a while; then the young man hove a sigh +and says: + +"Alas!" + +"What 're you alassin' about?" says the bald-head. + +"To think I should have lived to be leading such a life, and be degraded +down into such company." And he begun to wipe the corner of his eye with +a rag. + +"Dern your skin, ain't the company good enough for you?" says the +baldhead, pretty pert and uppish. + +"Yes, it IS good enough for me; it's as good as I deserve; for who +fetched me so low when I was so high? I did myself. I don't blame YOU, +gentlemen--far from it; I don't blame anybody. I deserve it all. Let +the cold world do its worst; one thing I know--there's a grave somewhere +for me. The world may go on just as it's always done, and take everything +from me--loved ones, property, everything; but it can't take that. +Some day I'll lie down in it and forget it all, and my poor broken heart +will be at rest." He went on a-wiping. + +"Drot your pore broken heart," says the baldhead; "what are you heaving +your pore broken heart at US f'r? WE hain't done nothing." + +"No, I know you haven't. I ain't blaming you, gentlemen. I brought +myself down--yes, I did it myself. It's right I should suffer--perfectly +right--I don't make any moan." + +"Brought you down from whar? Whar was you brought down from?" + +"Ah, you would not believe me; the world never believes--let it pass-- +'tis no matter. The secret of my birth--" + +"The secret of your birth! Do you mean to say--" + +"Gentlemen," says the young man, very solemn, "I will reveal it to you, +for I feel I may have confidence in you. By rights I am a duke!" + +Jim's eyes bugged out when he heard that; and I reckon mine did, too. +Then the baldhead says: "No! you can't mean it?" + +"Yes. My great-grandfather, eldest son of the Duke of Bridgewater, fled +to this country about the end of the last century, to breathe the pure +air of freedom; married here, and died, leaving a son, his own father +dying about the same time. The second son of the late duke seized the +titles and estates--the infant real duke was ignored. I am the lineal +descendant of that infant--I am the rightful Duke of Bridgewater; and +here am I, forlorn, torn from my high estate, hunted of men, despised by +the cold world, ragged, worn, heart-broken, and degraded to the +companionship of felons on a raft!" + +Jim pitied him ever so much, and so did I. We tried to comfort him, but +he said it warn't much use, he couldn't be much comforted; said if we was +a mind to acknowledge him, that would do him more good than most anything +else; so we said we would, if he would tell us how. He said we ought to +bow when we spoke to him, and say "Your Grace," or "My Lord," or "Your +Lordship"--and he wouldn't mind it if we called him plain +"Bridgewater," which, he said, was a title anyway, and not a name; and +one of us ought to wait on him at dinner, and do any little thing for him +he wanted done. + +Well, that was all easy, so we done it. All through dinner Jim stood +around and waited on him, and says, "Will yo' Grace have some o' dis or +some o' dat?" and so on, and a body could see it was mighty pleasing to +him. + +But the old man got pretty silent by and by--didn't have much to say, and +didn't look pretty comfortable over all that petting that was going on +around that duke. He seemed to have something on his mind. So, along in +the afternoon, he says: + +"Looky here, Bilgewater," he says, "I'm nation sorry for you, but you +ain't the only person that's had troubles like that." + +"No?" + +"No you ain't. You ain't the only person that's ben snaked down +wrongfully out'n a high place." + +"Alas!" + +"No, you ain't the only person that's had a secret of his birth." And, +by jings, HE begins to cry. + +"Hold! What do you mean?" + +"Bilgewater, kin I trust you?" says the old man, still sort of sobbing. + +"To the bitter death!" He took the old man by the hand and squeezed it, +and says, "That secret of your being: speak!" + +"Bilgewater, I am the late Dauphin!" + +You bet you, Jim and me stared this time. Then the duke says: + +"You are what?" + +"Yes, my friend, it is too true--your eyes is lookin' at this very moment +on the pore disappeared Dauphin, Looy the Seventeen, son of Looy the +Sixteen and Marry Antonette." + +"You! At your age! No! You mean you're the late Charlemagne; you must +be six or seven hundred years old, at the very least." + +"Trouble has done it, Bilgewater, trouble has done it; trouble has brung +these gray hairs and this premature balditude. Yes, gentlemen, you see +before you, in blue jeans and misery, the wanderin', exiled, trampled-on, +and sufferin' rightful King of France." + +Well, he cried and took on so that me and Jim didn't know hardly what to +do, we was so sorry--and so glad and proud we'd got him with us, too. So +we set in, like we done before with the duke, and tried to comfort HIM. +But he said it warn't no use, nothing but to be dead and done with it all +could do him any good; though he said it often made him feel easier and +better for a while if people treated him according to his rights, and got +down on one knee to speak to him, and always called him "Your Majesty," +and waited on him first at meals, and didn't set down in his presence +till he asked them. So Jim and me set to majestying him, and doing this +and that and t'other for him, and standing up till he told us we might +set down. This done him heaps of good, and so he got cheerful and +comfortable. But the duke kind of soured on him, and didn't look a bit +satisfied with the way things was going; still, the king acted real +friendly towards him, and said the duke's great-grandfather and all the +other Dukes of Bilgewater was a good deal thought of by HIS father, and +was allowed to come to the palace considerable; but the duke stayed huffy +a good while, till by and by the king says: + +"Like as not we got to be together a blamed long time on this h-yer raft, +Bilgewater, and so what's the use o' your bein' sour? It 'll only make +things oncomfortable. It ain't my fault I warn't born a duke, it ain't +your fault you warn't born a king--so what's the use to worry? Make the +best o' things the way you find 'em, says I--that's my motto. This ain't +no bad thing that we've struck here--plenty grub and an easy life--come, +give us your hand, duke, and le's all be friends." + +The duke done it, and Jim and me was pretty glad to see it. It took away +all the uncomfortableness and we felt mighty good over it, because it +would a been a miserable business to have any unfriendliness on the raft; +for what you want, above all things, on a raft, is for everybody to be +satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others. + +It didn't take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn't no +kings nor dukes at all, but just low-down humbugs and frauds. But I +never said nothing, never let on; kept it to myself; it's the best way; +then you don't have no quarrels, and don't get into no trouble. If they +wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn't no objections, 'long as +it would keep peace in the family; and it warn't no use to tell Jim, so I +didn't tell him. If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt +that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them +have their own way. + +CHAPTER XX. + +THEY asked us considerable many questions; wanted to know what we covered +up the raft that way for, and laid by in the daytime instead of running-- +was Jim a runaway nigger? Says I: + +"Goodness sakes! would a runaway nigger run SOUTH?" + +No, they allowed he wouldn't. I had to account for things some way, so I +says: + +"My folks was living in Pike County, in Missouri, where I was born, and +they all died off but me and pa and my brother Ike. Pa, he 'lowed he'd +break up and go down and live with Uncle Ben, who's got a little one- +horse place on the river, forty-four mile below Orleans. Pa was pretty +poor, and had some debts; so when he'd squared up there warn't nothing +left but sixteen dollars and our nigger, Jim. That warn't enough to take +us fourteen hundred mile, deck passage nor no other way. Well, when the +river rose pa had a streak of luck one day; he ketched this piece of a +raft; so we reckoned we'd go down to Orleans on it. Pa's luck didn't +hold out; a steamboat run over the forrard corner of the raft one night, +and we all went overboard and dove under the wheel; Jim and me come up +all right, but pa was drunk, and Ike was only four years old, so they +never come up no more. Well, for the next day or two we had considerable +trouble, because people was always coming out in skiffs and trying to +take Jim away from me, saying they believed he was a runaway nigger. We +don't run daytimes no more now; nights they don't bother us." + +The duke says: + +"Leave me alone to cipher out a way so we can run in the daytime if we +want to. I'll think the thing over--I'll invent a plan that'll fix it. +We'll let it alone for to-day, because of course we don't want to go by +that town yonder in daylight--it mightn't be healthy." + +Towards night it begun to darken up and look like rain; the heat +lightning was squirting around low down in the sky, and the leaves was +beginning to shiver--it was going to be pretty ugly, it was easy to see +that. So the duke and the king went to overhauling our wigwam, to see +what the beds was like. My bed was a straw tick better than Jim's, which +was a corn-shuck tick; there's always cobs around about in a shuck tick, +and they poke into you and hurt; and when you roll over the dry shucks +sound like you was rolling over in a pile of dead leaves; it makes such a +rustling that you wake up. Well, the duke allowed he would take my bed; +but the king allowed he wouldn't. He says: + +"I should a reckoned the difference in rank would a sejested to you that +a corn-shuck bed warn't just fitten for me to sleep on. Your Grace 'll +take the shuck bed yourself." + +Jim and me was in a sweat again for a minute, being afraid there was +going to be some more trouble amongst them; so we was pretty glad when +the duke says: + +"'Tis my fate to be always ground into the mire under the iron heel of +oppression. Misfortune has broken my once haughty spirit; I yield, I +submit; 'tis my fate. I am alone in the world--let me suffer; can bear +it." + +We got away as soon as it was good and dark. The king told us to stand +well out towards the middle of the river, and not show a light till we +got a long ways below the town. We come in sight of the little bunch of +lights by and by--that was the town, you know--and slid by, about a half +a mile out, all right. When we was three-quarters of a mile below we +hoisted up our signal lantern; and about ten o'clock it come on to rain +and blow and thunder and lighten like everything; so the king told us to +both stay on watch till the weather got better; then him and the duke +crawled into the wigwam and turned in for the night. It was my watch +below till twelve, but I wouldn't a turned in anyway if I'd had a bed, +because a body don't see such a storm as that every day in the week, not +by a long sight. My souls, how the wind did scream along! And every +second or two there'd come a glare that lit up the white-caps for a half +a mile around, and you'd see the islands looking dusty through the rain, +and the trees thrashing around in the wind; then comes a H-WHACK!--bum! +bum! bumble-umble-um-bum-bum-bum-bum--and the thunder would go rumbling +and grumbling away, and quit--and then RIP comes another flash and +another sockdolager. The waves most washed me off the raft sometimes, +but I hadn't any clothes on, and didn't mind. We didn't have no trouble +about snags; the lightning was glaring and flittering around so constant +that we could see them plenty soon enough to throw her head this way or +that and miss them. + +I had the middle watch, you know, but I was pretty sleepy by that time, +so Jim he said he would stand the first half of it for me; he was always +mighty good that way, Jim was. I crawled into the wigwam, but the king +and the duke had their legs sprawled around so there warn't no show for +me; so I laid outside--I didn't mind the rain, because it was warm, and +the waves warn't running so high now. About two they come up again, +though, and Jim was going to call me; but he changed his mind, because he +reckoned they warn't high enough yet to do any harm; but he was mistaken +about that, for pretty soon all of a sudden along comes a regular ripper +and washed me overboard. It most killed Jim a-laughing. He was the +easiest nigger to laugh that ever was, anyway. + +I took the watch, and Jim he laid down and snored away; and by and by the +storm let up for good and all; and the first cabin-light that showed I +rousted him out, and we slid the raft into hiding quarters for the day. + +The king got out an old ratty deck of cards after breakfast, and him and +the duke played seven-up a while, five cents a game. Then they got tired +of it, and allowed they would "lay out a campaign," as they called it. +The duke went down into his carpet-bag, and fetched up a lot of little +printed bills and read them out loud. One bill said, "The celebrated Dr. +Armand de Montalban, of Paris," would "lecture on the Science of +Phrenology" at such and such a place, on the blank day of blank, at ten +cents admission, and "furnish charts of character at twenty-five cents +apiece." The duke said that was HIM. In another bill he was the "world- +renowned Shakespearian tragedian, Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane, +London." In other bills he had a lot of other names and done other +wonderful things, like finding water and gold with a "divining-rod," +"dissipating witch spells," and so on. By and by he says: + +"But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, +Royalty?" + +"No," says the king. + +"You shall, then, before you're three days older, Fallen Grandeur," says +the duke. "The first good town we come to we'll hire a hall and do the +sword fight in Richard III. and the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. +How does that strike you?" + +"I'm in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater; but, you +see, I don't know nothing about play-actin', and hain't ever seen much of +it. I was too small when pap used to have 'em at the palace. Do you +reckon you can learn me?" + +"Easy!" + +"All right. I'm jist a-freezn' for something fresh, anyway. Le's +commence right away." + +So the duke he told him all about who Romeo was and who Juliet was, and +said he was used to being Romeo, so the king could be Juliet. + +"But if Juliet's such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white +whiskers is goin' to look oncommon odd on her, maybe." + +"No, don't you worry; these country jakes won't ever think of that. +Besides, you know, you'll be in costume, and that makes all the +difference in the world; Juliet's in a balcony, enjoying the moonlight +before she goes to bed, and she's got on her night-gown and her ruffled +nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts." + +He got out two or three curtain-calico suits, which he said was meedyevil +armor for Richard III. and t'other chap, and a long white cotton +nightshirt and a ruffled nightcap to match. The king was satisfied; so +the duke got out his book and read the parts over in the most splendid +spread-eagle way, prancing around and acting at the same time, to show +how it had got to be done; then he give the book to the king and told him +to get his part by heart. + +There was a little one-horse town about three mile down the bend, and +after dinner the duke said he had ciphered out his idea about how to run +in daylight without it being dangersome for Jim; so he allowed he would +go down to the town and fix that thing. The king allowed he would go, +too, and see if he couldn't strike something. We was out of coffee, so +Jim said I better go along with them in the canoe and get some. + +When we got there there warn't nobody stirring; streets empty, and +perfectly dead and still, like Sunday. We found a sick nigger sunning +himself in a back yard, and he said everybody that warn't too young or +too sick or too old was gone to camp-meeting, about two mile back in the +woods. The king got the directions, and allowed he'd go and work that +camp-meeting for all it was worth, and I might go, too. + +The duke said what he was after was a printing-office. We found it; a +little bit of a concern, up over a carpenter shop--carpenters and +printers all gone to the meeting, and no doors locked. It was a dirty, +littered-up place, and had ink marks, and handbills with pictures of +horses and runaway niggers on them, all over the walls. The duke shed +his coat and said he was all right now. So me and the king lit out for +the camp-meeting. + +We got there in about a half an hour fairly dripping, for it was a most +awful hot day. There was as much as a thousand people there from twenty +mile around. The woods was full of teams and wagons, hitched +everywheres, feeding out of the wagon-troughs and stomping to keep off +the flies. There was sheds made out of poles and roofed over with +branches, where they had lemonade and gingerbread to sell, and piles of +watermelons and green corn and such-like truck. + +The preaching was going on under the same kinds of sheds, only they was +bigger and held crowds of people. The benches was made out of outside +slabs of logs, with holes bored in the round side to drive sticks into +for legs. They didn't have no backs. The preachers had high platforms to +stand on at one end of the sheds. The women had on sun-bonnets; and some +had linsey-woolsey frocks, some gingham ones, and a few of the young ones +had on calico. Some of the young men was barefooted, and some of the +children didn't have on any clothes but just a tow-linen shirt. Some of +the old women was knitting, and some of the young folks was courting on +the sly. + +The first shed we come to the preacher was lining out a hymn. He lined +out two lines, everybody sung it, and it was kind of grand to hear it, +there was so many of them and they done it in such a rousing way; then he +lined out two more for them to sing--and so on. The people woke up more +and more, and sung louder and louder; and towards the end some begun to +groan, and some begun to shout. Then the preacher begun to preach, and +begun in earnest, too; and went weaving first to one side of the platform +and then the other, and then a-leaning down over the front of it, with +his arms and his body going all the time, and shouting his words out with +all his might; and every now and then he would hold up his Bible and +spread it open, and kind of pass it around this way and that, shouting, +"It's the brazen serpent in the wilderness! Look upon it and live!" And +people would shout out, "Glory!--A-a-MEN!" And so he went on, and the +people groaning and crying and saying amen: + +"Oh, come to the mourners' bench! come, black with sin! (AMEN!) come, +sick and sore! (AMEN!) come, lame and halt and blind! (AMEN!) come, pore +and needy, sunk in shame! (A-A-MEN!) come, all that's worn and soiled and +suffering!--come with a broken spirit! come with a contrite heart! come +in your rags and sin and dirt! the waters that cleanse is free, the door +of heaven stands open--oh, enter in and be at rest!" (A-A-MEN! GLORY, +GLORY HALLELUJAH!) + +And so on. You couldn't make out what the preacher said any more, on +account of the shouting and crying. Folks got up everywheres in the +crowd, and worked their way just by main strength to the mourners' bench, +with the tears running down their faces; and when all the mourners had +got up there to the front benches in a crowd, they sung and shouted and +flung themselves down on the straw, just crazy and wild. + +Well, the first I knowed the king got a-going, and you could hear him +over everybody; and next he went a-charging up on to the platform, and +the preacher he begged him to speak to the people, and he done it. He +told them he was a pirate--been a pirate for thirty years out in the +Indian Ocean--and his crew was thinned out considerable last spring in +a fight, and he was home now to take out some fresh men, and thanks to +goodness he'd been robbed last night and put ashore off of a steamboat +without a cent, and he was glad of it; it was the blessedest thing that +ever happened to him, because he was a changed man now, and happy for the +first time in his life; and, poor as he was, he was going to start right +off and work his way back to the Indian Ocean, and put in the rest of his +life trying to turn the pirates into the true path; for he could do it +better than anybody else, being acquainted with all pirate crews in that +ocean; and though it would take him a long time to get there without +money, he would get there anyway, and every time he convinced a pirate he +would say to him, "Don't you thank me, don't you give me no credit; it +all belongs to them dear people in Pokeville camp-meeting, natural +brothers and benefactors of the race, and that dear preacher there, the +truest friend a pirate ever had!" + +And then he busted into tears, and so did everybody. Then somebody sings +out, "Take up a collection for him, take up a collection!" Well, a half +a dozen made a jump to do it, but somebody sings out, "Let HIM pass the +hat around!" Then everybody said it, the preacher too. + +So the king went all through the crowd with his hat swabbing his eyes, +and blessing the people and praising them and thanking them for being so +good to the poor pirates away off there; and every little while the +prettiest kind of girls, with the tears running down their cheeks, would +up and ask him would he let them kiss him for to remember him by; and he +always done it; and some of them he hugged and kissed as many as five or +six times--and he was invited to stay a week; and everybody wanted him to +live in their houses, and said they'd think it was an honor; but he said +as this was the last day of the camp-meeting he couldn't do no good, and +besides he was in a sweat to get to the Indian Ocean right off and go to +work on the pirates. + +When we got back to the raft and he come to count up he found he had +collected eighty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents. And then he had +fetched away a three-gallon jug of whisky, too, that he found under a +wagon when he was starting home through the woods. The king said, take +it all around, it laid over any day he'd ever put in in the missionarying +line. He said it warn't no use talking, heathens don't amount to shucks +alongside of pirates to work a camp-meeting with. + +The duke was thinking HE'D been doing pretty well till the king come to +show up, but after that he didn't think so so much. He had set up and +printed off two little jobs for farmers in that printing-office--horse +bills--and took the money, four dollars. And he had got in ten +dollars' worth of advertisements for the paper, which he said he would +put in for four dollars if they would pay in advance--so they done it. +The price of the paper was two dollars a year, but he took in three +subscriptions for half a dollar apiece on condition of them paying him in +advance; they were going to pay in cordwood and onions as usual, but he +said he had just bought the concern and knocked down the price as low as +he could afford it, and was going to run it for cash. He set up a little +piece of poetry, which he made, himself, out of his own head--three +verses--kind of sweet and saddish--the name of it was, "Yes, crush, cold +world, this breaking heart"--and he left that all set up and ready to +print in the paper, and didn't charge nothing for it. Well, he took in +nine dollars and a half, and said he'd done a pretty square day's work +for it. + +Then he showed us another little job he'd printed and hadn't charged for, +because it was for us. It had a picture of a runaway nigger with a +bundle on a stick over his shoulder, and "$200 reward" under it. The +reading was all about Jim, and just described him to a dot. It said he +run away from St. Jacques' plantation, forty mile below New Orleans, last +winter, and likely went north, and whoever would catch him and send him +back he could have the reward and expenses. + +"Now," says the duke, "after to-night we can run in the daytime if we +want to. Whenever we see anybody coming we can tie Jim hand and foot +with a rope, and lay him in the wigwam and show this handbill and say we +captured him up the river, and were too poor to travel on a steamboat, so +we got this little raft on credit from our friends and are going down to +get the reward. Handcuffs and chains would look still better on Jim, but +it wouldn't go well with the story of us being so poor. Too much like +jewelry. Ropes are the correct thing--we must preserve the unities, as +we say on the boards." + +We all said the duke was pretty smart, and there couldn't be no trouble +about running daytimes. We judged we could make miles enough that night +to get out of the reach of the powwow we reckoned the duke's work in the +printing office was going to make in that little town; then we could boom +right along if we wanted to. + +We laid low and kept still, and never shoved out till nearly ten o'clock; +then we slid by, pretty wide away from the town, and didn't hoist our +lantern till we was clear out of sight of it. + +When Jim called me to take the watch at four in the morning, he says: + +"Huck, does you reck'n we gwyne to run acrost any mo' kings on dis trip?" + +"No," I says, "I reckon not." + +"Well," says he, "dat's all right, den. I doan' mine one er two kings, +but dat's enough. Dis one's powerful drunk, en de duke ain' much +better." + +I found Jim had been trying to get him to talk French, so he could hear +what it was like; but he said he had been in this country so long, and +had so much trouble, he'd forgot it. + +CHAPTER XXI. + +IT was after sun-up now, but we went right on and didn't tie up. The +king and the duke turned out by and by looking pretty rusty; but after +they'd jumped overboard and took a swim it chippered them up a good deal. +After breakfast the king he took a seat on the corner of the raft, and +pulled off his boots and rolled up his britches, and let his legs dangle +in the water, so as to be comfortable, and lit his pipe, and went to +getting his Romeo and Juliet by heart. When he had got it pretty good +him and the duke begun to practice it together. The duke had to learn +him over and over again how to say every speech; and he made him sigh, +and put his hand on his heart, and after a while he said he done it +pretty well; "only," he says, "you mustn't bellow out ROMEO! that way, +like a bull--you must say it soft and sick and languishy, so--R-o-o-meo! +that is the idea; for Juliet's a dear sweet mere child of a girl, you +know, and she doesn't bray like a jackass." + +Well, next they got out a couple of long swords that the duke made out of +oak laths, and begun to practice the sword fight--the duke called himself +Richard III.; and the way they laid on and pranced around the raft was +grand to see. But by and by the king tripped and fell overboard, and +after that they took a rest, and had a talk about all kinds of adventures +they'd had in other times along the river. + +After dinner the duke says: + +"Well, Capet, we'll want to make this a first-class show, you know, so I +guess we'll add a little more to it. We want a little something to +answer encores with, anyway." + +"What's onkores, Bilgewater?" + +The duke told him, and then says: + +"I'll answer by doing the Highland fling or the sailor's hornpipe; and +you--well, let me see--oh, I've got it--you can do Hamlet's soliloquy." + +"Hamlet's which?" + +"Hamlet's soliloquy, you know; the most celebrated thing in Shakespeare. +Ah, it's sublime, sublime! Always fetches the house. I haven't got it +in the book--I've only got one volume--but I reckon I can piece it out +from memory. I'll just walk up and down a minute, and see if I can call +it back from recollection's vaults." + +So he went to marching up and down, thinking, and frowning horrible every +now and then; then he would hoist up his eyebrows; next he would squeeze +his hand on his forehead and stagger back and kind of moan; next he would +sigh, and next he'd let on to drop a tear. It was beautiful to see him. +By and by he got it. He told us to give attention. Then he strikes a +most noble attitude, with one leg shoved forwards, and his arms stretched +away up, and his head tilted back, looking up at the sky; and then he +begins to rip and rave and grit his teeth; and after that, all through +his speech, he howled, and spread around, and swelled up his chest, and +just knocked the spots out of any acting ever I see before. This is the +speech--I learned it, easy enough, while he was learning it to the king: + +To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin That makes calamity of so +long life; For who would fardels bear, till Birnam Wood do come to +Dunsinane, But that the fear of something after death Murders the +innocent sleep, Great nature's second course, And makes us rather sling +the arrows of outrageous fortune Than fly to others that we know not of. +There's the respect must give us pause: Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I +would thou couldst; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The +oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The law's delay, and the +quietus which his pangs might take, In the dead waste and middle of the +night, when churchyards yawn In customary suits of solemn black, But that +the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns, Breathes +forth contagion on the world, And thus the native hue of resolution, like +the poor cat i' the adage, Is sicklied o'er with care, And all the clouds +that lowered o'er our housetops, With this regard their currents turn +awry, And lose the name of action. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be +wished. But soft you, the fair Ophelia: Ope not thy ponderous and marble +jaws, But get thee to a nunnery--go! + +Well, the old man he liked that speech, and he mighty soon got it so he +could do it first-rate. It seemed like he was just born for it; and when +he had his hand in and was excited, it was perfectly lovely the way he +would rip and tear and rair up behind when he was getting it off. + +The first chance we got the duke he had some showbills printed; and after +that, for two or three days as we floated along, the raft was a most +uncommon lively place, for there warn't nothing but sword fighting and +rehearsing--as the duke called it--going on all the time. One morning, +when we was pretty well down the State of Arkansaw, we come in sight of a +little one-horse town in a big bend; so we tied up about three-quarters +of a mile above it, in the mouth of a crick which was shut in like a +tunnel by the cypress trees, and all of us but Jim took the canoe and +went down there to see if there was any chance in that place for our +show. + +We struck it mighty lucky; there was going to be a circus there that +afternoon, and the country people was already beginning to come in, in +all kinds of old shackly wagons, and on horses. The circus would leave +before night, so our show would have a pretty good chance. The duke he +hired the courthouse, and we went around and stuck up our bills. They +read like this: + +Shaksperean Revival ! ! ! Wonderful Attraction! For One Night Only! The +world renowned tragedians, David Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane +Theatre London, and Edmund Kean the elder, of the Royal Haymarket +Theatre, Whitechapel, Pudding Lane, Piccadilly, London, and the Royal +Continental Theatres, in their sublime Shaksperean Spectacle entitled The +Balcony Scene in Romeo and Juliet ! ! ! Romeo...................Mr. +Garrick Juliet..................Mr. Kean Assisted by the whole strength +of the company! New costumes, new scenes, new appointments! Also: The +thrilling, masterly, and blood-curdling Broad-sword conflict In Richard +III. ! ! ! Richard III.............Mr. Garrick +Richmond................Mr. Kean Also: (by special request) Hamlet's +Immortal Soliloquy ! ! By The Illustrious Kean! Done by him 300 +consecutive nights in Paris! For One Night Only, On account of imperative +European engagements! Admission 25 cents; children and servants, 10 +cents. + +Then we went loafing around town. The stores and houses was most all +old, shackly, dried up frame concerns that hadn't ever been painted; they +was set up three or four foot above ground on stilts, so as to be out of +reach of the water when the river was over-flowed. The houses had little +gardens around them, but they didn't seem to raise hardly anything in +them but jimpson-weeds, and sunflowers, and ash piles, and old curled-up +boots and shoes, and pieces of bottles, and rags, and played-out tinware. +The fences was made of different kinds of boards, nailed on at different +times; and they leaned every which way, and had gates that didn't generly +have but one hinge--a leather one. Some of the fences had been white- +washed some time or another, but the duke said it was in Clumbus' time, +like enough. There was generly hogs in the garden, and people driving +them out. + +All the stores was along one street. They had white domestic awnings in +front, and the country people hitched their horses to the awning-posts. +There was empty drygoods boxes under the awnings, and loafers roosting on +them all day long, whittling them with their Barlow knives; and chawing +tobacco, and gaping and yawning and stretching--a mighty ornery lot. +They generly had on yellow straw hats most as wide as an umbrella, but +didn't wear no coats nor waistcoats, they called one another Bill, and +Buck, and Hank, and Joe, and Andy, and talked lazy and drawly, and used +considerable many cuss words. There was as many as one loafer leaning up +against every awning-post, and he most always had his hands in his +britches-pockets, except when he fetched them out to lend a chaw of +tobacco or scratch. What a body was hearing amongst them all the time +was: + +"Gimme a chaw 'v tobacker, Hank." + +"Cain't; I hain't got but one chaw left. Ask Bill." + +Maybe Bill he gives him a chaw; maybe he lies and says he ain't got none. +Some of them kinds of loafers never has a cent in the world, nor a chaw +of tobacco of their own. They get all their chawing by borrowing; they +say to a fellow, "I wisht you'd len' me a chaw, Jack, I jist this minute +give Ben Thompson the last chaw I had"--which is a lie pretty much +everytime; it don't fool nobody but a stranger; but Jack ain't no +stranger, so he says: + +"YOU give him a chaw, did you? So did your sister's cat's grandmother. +You pay me back the chaws you've awready borry'd off'n me, Lafe Buckner, +then I'll loan you one or two ton of it, and won't charge you no back +intrust, nuther." + +"Well, I DID pay you back some of it wunst." + +"Yes, you did--'bout six chaws. You borry'd store tobacker and paid back +nigger-head." + +Store tobacco is flat black plug, but these fellows mostly chaws the +natural leaf twisted. When they borrow a chaw they don't generly cut it +off with a knife, but set the plug in between their teeth, and gnaw with +their teeth and tug at the plug with their hands till they get it in two; +then sometimes the one that owns the tobacco looks mournful at it when +it's handed back, and says, sarcastic: + +"Here, gimme the CHAW, and you take the PLUG." + +All the streets and lanes was just mud; they warn't nothing else BUT mud +--mud as black as tar and nigh about a foot deep in some places, and two +or three inches deep in ALL the places. The hogs loafed and grunted +around everywheres. You'd see a muddy sow and a litter of pigs come +lazying along the street and whollop herself right down in the way, where +folks had to walk around her, and she'd stretch out and shut her eyes and +wave her ears whilst the pigs was milking her, and look as happy as if +she was on salary. And pretty soon you'd hear a loafer sing out, "Hi! SO +boy! sick him, Tige!" and away the sow would go, squealing most horrible, +with a dog or two swinging to each ear, and three or four dozen more a- +coming; and then you would see all the loafers get up and watch the thing +out of sight, and laugh at the fun and look grateful for the noise. Then +they'd settle back again till there was a dog fight. There couldn't +anything wake them up all over, and make them happy all over, like a dog +fight--unless it might be putting turpentine on a stray dog and setting +fire to him, or tying a tin pan to his tail and see him run himself to +death. + +On the river front some of the houses was sticking out over the bank, and +they was bowed and bent, and about ready to tumble in, The people had +moved out of them. The bank was caved away under one corner of some +others, and that corner was hanging over. People lived in them yet, but +it was dangersome, because sometimes a strip of land as wide as a house +caves in at a time. Sometimes a belt of land a quarter of a mile deep +will start in and cave along and cave along till it all caves into the +river in one summer. Such a town as that has to be always moving back, +and back, and back, because the river's always gnawing at it. + +The nearer it got to noon that day the thicker and thicker was the wagons +and horses in the streets, and more coming all the time. Families +fetched their dinners with them from the country, and eat them in the +wagons. There was considerable whisky drinking going on, and I seen +three fights. By and by somebody sings out: + +"Here comes old Boggs!--in from the country for his little old monthly +drunk; here he comes, boys!" + +All the loafers looked glad; I reckoned they was used to having fun out +of Boggs. One of them says: + +"Wonder who he's a-gwyne to chaw up this time. If he'd a-chawed up all +the men he's ben a-gwyne to chaw up in the last twenty year he'd have +considerable ruputation now." + +Another one says, "I wisht old Boggs 'd threaten me, 'cuz then I'd know I +warn't gwyne to die for a thousan' year." + +Boggs comes a-tearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an +Injun, and singing out: + +"Cler the track, thar. I'm on the waw-path, and the price uv coffins is +a-gwyne to raise." + +He was drunk, and weaving about in his saddle; he was over fifty year +old, and had a very red face. Everybody yelled at him and laughed at him +and sassed him, and he sassed back, and said he'd attend to them and lay +them out in their regular turns, but he couldn't wait now because he'd +come to town to kill old Colonel Sherburn, and his motto was, "Meat +first, and spoon vittles to top off on." + +He see me, and rode up and says: + +"Whar'd you come f'm, boy? You prepared to die?" + +Then he rode on. I was scared, but a man says: + +"He don't mean nothing; he's always a-carryin' on like that when he's +drunk. He's the best naturedest old fool in Arkansaw--never hurt nobody, +drunk nor sober." + +Boggs rode up before the biggest store in town, and bent his head down so +he could see under the curtain of the awning and yells: + +"Come out here, Sherburn! Come out and meet the man you've swindled. +You're the houn' I'm after, and I'm a-gwyne to have you, too!" + +And so he went on, calling Sherburn everything he could lay his tongue +to, and the whole street packed with people listening and laughing and +going on. By and by a proud-looking man about fifty-five--and he was a +heap the best dressed man in that town, too--steps out of the store, and +the crowd drops back on each side to let him come. He says to Boggs, +mighty ca'm and slow--he says: + +"I'm tired of this, but I'll endure it till one o'clock. Till one +o'clock, mind--no longer. If you open your mouth against me only once +after that time you can't travel so far but I will find you." + +Then he turns and goes in. The crowd looked mighty sober; nobody +stirred, and there warn't no more laughing. Boggs rode off blackguarding +Sherburn as loud as he could yell, all down the street; and pretty soon +back he comes and stops before the store, still keeping it up. Some men +crowded around him and tried to get him to shut up, but he wouldn't; they +told him it would be one o'clock in about fifteen minutes, and so he MUST +go home--he must go right away. But it didn't do no good. He cussed +away with all his might, and throwed his hat down in the mud and rode +over it, and pretty soon away he went a-raging down the street again, +with his gray hair a-flying. Everybody that could get a chance at him +tried their best to coax him off of his horse so they could lock him up +and get him sober; but it warn't no use--up the street he would tear +again, and give Sherburn another cussing. By and by somebody says: + +"Go for his daughter!--quick, go for his daughter; sometimes he'll listen +to her. If anybody can persuade him, she can." + +So somebody started on a run. I walked down street a ways and stopped. +In about five or ten minutes here comes Boggs again, but not on his +horse. He was a-reeling across the street towards me, bare-headed, with +a friend on both sides of him a-holt of his arms and hurrying him along. +He was quiet, and looked uneasy; and he warn't hanging back any, but was +doing some of the hurrying himself. Somebody sings out: + +"Boggs!" + +I looked over there to see who said it, and it was that Colonel Sherburn. +He was standing perfectly still in the street, and had a pistol raised in +his right hand--not aiming it, but holding it out with the barrel tilted +up towards the sky. The same second I see a young girl coming on the +run, and two men with her. Boggs and the men turned round to see who +called him, and when they see the pistol the men jumped to one side, and +the pistol-barrel come down slow and steady to a level--both barrels +cocked. Boggs throws up both of his hands and says, "O Lord, don't +shoot!" Bang! goes the first shot, and he staggers back, clawing at the +air--bang! goes the second one, and he tumbles backwards on to the +ground, heavy and solid, with his arms spread out. That young girl +screamed out and comes rushing, and down she throws herself on her +father, crying, and saying, "Oh, he's killed him, he's killed him!" The +crowd closed up around them, and shouldered and jammed one another, with +their necks stretched, trying to see, and people on the inside trying to +shove them back and shouting, "Back, back! give him air, give him air!" + +Colonel Sherburn he tossed his pistol on to the ground, and turned around +on his heels and walked off. + +They took Boggs to a little drug store, the crowd pressing around just +the same, and the whole town following, and I rushed and got a good place +at the window, where I was close to him and could see in. They laid him +on the floor and put one large Bible under his head, and opened another +one and spread it on his breast; but they tore open his shirt first, and +I seen where one of the bullets went in. He made about a dozen long +gasps, his breast lifting the Bible up when he drawed in his breath, and +letting it down again when he breathed it out--and after that he laid +still; he was dead. Then they pulled his daughter away from him, +screaming and crying, and took her off. She was about sixteen, and very +sweet and gentle looking, but awful pale and scared. + +Well, pretty soon the whole town was there, squirming and scrouging and +pushing and shoving to get at the window and have a look, but people that +had the places wouldn't give them up, and folks behind them was saying +all the time, "Say, now, you've looked enough, you fellows; 'tain't right +and 'tain't fair for you to stay thar all the time, and never give nobody +a chance; other folks has their rights as well as you." + +There was considerable jawing back, so I slid out, thinking maybe there +was going to be trouble. The streets was full, and everybody was +excited. Everybody that seen the shooting was telling how it happened, +and there was a big crowd packed around each one of these fellows, +stretching their necks and listening. One long, lanky man, with long +hair and a big white fur stovepipe hat on the back of his head, and a +crooked-handled cane, marked out the places on the ground where Boggs +stood and where Sherburn stood, and the people following him around from +one place to t'other and watching everything he done, and bobbing their +heads to show they understood, and stooping a little and resting their +hands on their thighs to watch him mark the places on the ground with his +cane; and then he stood up straight and stiff where Sherburn had stood, +frowning and having his hat-brim down over his eyes, and sung out, +"Boggs!" and then fetched his cane down slow to a level, and says "Bang!" +staggered backwards, says "Bang!" again, and fell down flat on his back. +The people that had seen the thing said he done it perfect; said it was +just exactly the way it all happened. Then as much as a dozen people got +out their bottles and treated him. + +Well, by and by somebody said Sherburn ought to be lynched. In about a +minute everybody was saying it; so away they went, mad and yelling, and +snatching down every clothes-line they come to to do the hanging with. + +CHAPTER XXII. + +THEY swarmed up towards Sherburn's house, a-whooping and raging like +Injuns, and everything had to clear the way or get run over and tromped +to mush, and it was awful to see. Children was heeling it ahead of the +mob, screaming and trying to get out of the way; and every window along +the road was full of women's heads, and there was nigger boys in every +tree, and bucks and wenches looking over every fence; and as soon as the +mob would get nearly to them they would break and skaddle back out of +reach. Lots of the women and girls was crying and taking on, scared most +to death. + +They swarmed up in front of Sherburn's palings as thick as they could jam +together, and you couldn't hear yourself think for the noise. It was a +little twenty-foot yard. Some sung out "Tear down the fence! tear down +the fence!" Then there was a racket of ripping and tearing and smashing, +and down she goes, and the front wall of the crowd begins to roll in like +a wave. + +Just then Sherburn steps out on to the roof of his little front porch, +with a double-barrel gun in his hand, and takes his stand, perfectly ca'm +and deliberate, not saying a word. The racket stopped, and the wave +sucked back. + +Sherburn never said a word--just stood there, looking down. The +stillness was awful creepy and uncomfortable. Sherburn run his eye slow +along the crowd; and wherever it struck the people tried a little to out- +gaze him, but they couldn't; they dropped their eyes and looked sneaky. +Then pretty soon Sherburn sort of laughed; not the pleasant kind, but the +kind that makes you feel like when you are eating bread that's got sand +in it. + +Then he says, slow and scornful: + +"The idea of YOU lynching anybody! It's amusing. The idea of you +thinking you had pluck enough to lynch a MAN! Because you're brave +enough to tar and feather poor friendless cast-out women that come along +here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay your hands on a +MAN? Why, a MAN'S safe in the hands of ten thousand of your kind--as +long as it's daytime and you're not behind him. + +"Do I know you? I know you clear through was born and raised in the +South, and I've lived in the North; so I know the average all around. +The average man's a coward. In the North he lets anybody walk over him +that wants to, and goes home and prays for a humble spirit to bear it. +In the South one man all by himself, has stopped a stage full of men in +the daytime, and robbed the lot. Your newspapers call you a brave people +so much that you think you are braver than any other people--whereas +you're just AS brave, and no braver. Why don't your juries hang +murderers? Because they're afraid the man's friends will shoot them in +the back, in the dark--and it's just what they WOULD do. + +"So they always acquit; and then a MAN goes in the night, with a hundred +masked cowards at his back and lynches the rascal. Your mistake is, that +you didn't bring a man with you; that's one mistake, and the other is +that you didn't come in the dark and fetch your masks. You brought PART +of a man--Buck Harkness, there--and if you hadn't had him to start you, +you'd a taken it out in blowing. + +"You didn't want to come. The average man don't like trouble and danger. +YOU don't like trouble and danger. But if only HALF a man--like Buck +Harkness, there--shouts 'Lynch him! lynch him!' you're afraid to back +down--afraid you'll be found out to be what you are--COWARDS--and so +you raise a yell, and hang yourselves on to that half-a-man's coat-tail, +and come raging up here, swearing what big things you're going to do. +The pitifulest thing out is a mob; that's what an army is--a mob; they +don't fight with courage that's born in them, but with courage that's +borrowed from their mass, and from their officers. But a mob without any +MAN at the head of it is BENEATH pitifulness. Now the thing for YOU to +do is to droop your tails and go home and crawl in a hole. If any real +lynching's going to be done it will be done in the dark, Southern +fashion; and when they come they'll bring their masks, and fetch a MAN +along. Now LEAVE--and take your half-a-man with you"--tossing his gun up +across his left arm and cocking it when he says this. + +The crowd washed back sudden, and then broke all apart, and went tearing +off every which way, and Buck Harkness he heeled it after them, looking +tolerable cheap. I could a stayed if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. + +I went to the circus and loafed around the back side till the watchman +went by, and then dived in under the tent. I had my twenty-dollar gold +piece and some other money, but I reckoned I better save it, because +there ain't no telling how soon you are going to need it, away from home +and amongst strangers that way. You can't be too careful. I ain't +opposed to spending money on circuses when there ain't no other way, but +there ain't no use in WASTING it on them. + +It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever was +when they all come riding in, two and two, a gentleman and lady, side by +side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and no shoes nor +stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy and comfortable-- +there must a been twenty of them--and every lady with a lovely +complexion, and perfectly beautiful, and looking just like a gang of real +sure-enough queens, and dressed in clothes that cost millions of dollars, +and just littered with diamonds. It was a powerful fine sight; I never +see anything so lovely. And then one by one they got up and stood, and +went a-weaving around the ring so gentle and wavy and graceful, the men +looking ever so tall and airy and straight, with their heads bobbing and +skimming along, away up there under the tent-roof, and every lady's rose- +leafy dress flapping soft and silky around her hips, and she looking like +the most loveliest parasol. + +And then faster and faster they went, all of them dancing, first one foot +out in the air and then the other, the horses leaning more and more, and +the ringmaster going round and round the center-pole, cracking his whip +and shouting "Hi!--hi!" and the clown cracking jokes behind him; and by +and by all hands dropped the reins, and every lady put her knuckles on +her hips and every gentleman folded his arms, and then how the horses did +lean over and hump themselves! And so one after the other they all +skipped off into the ring, and made the sweetest bow I ever see, and then +scampered out, and everybody clapped their hands and went just about +wild. + +Well, all through the circus they done the most astonishing things; and +all the time that clown carried on so it most killed the people. The +ringmaster couldn't ever say a word to him but he was back at him quick +as a wink with the funniest things a body ever said; and how he ever +COULD think of so many of them, and so sudden and so pat, was what I +couldn't noway understand. Why, I couldn't a thought of them in a year. +And by and by a drunk man tried to get into the ring--said he wanted to +ride; said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued +and tried to keep him out, but he wouldn't listen, and the whole show +come to a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make +fun of him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear; so that +stirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of the +benches and swarm towards the ring, saying, "Knock him down! throw him +out!" and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ringmaster he +made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn't be no disturbance, +and if the man would promise he wouldn't make no more trouble he would +let him ride if he thought he could stay on the horse. So everybody +laughed and said all right, and the man got on. The minute he was on, the +horse begun to rip and tear and jump and cavort around, with two circus +men hanging on to his bridle trying to hold him, and the drunk man +hanging on to his neck, and his heels flying in the air every jump, and +the whole crowd of people standing up shouting and laughing till tears +rolled down. And at last, sure enough, all the circus men could do, the +horse broke loose, and away he went like the very nation, round and round +the ring, with that sot laying down on him and hanging to his neck, with +first one leg hanging most to the ground on one side, and then t'other +one on t'other side, and the people just crazy. It warn't funny to me, +though; I was all of a tremble to see his danger. But pretty soon he +struggled up astraddle and grabbed the bridle, a-reeling this way and +that; and the next minute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood! +and the horse a-going like a house afire too. He just stood up there, a- +sailing around as easy and comfortable as if he warn't ever drunk in his +life--and then he begun to pull off his clothes and sling them. He shed +them so thick they kind of clogged up the air, and altogether he shed +seventeen suits. And, then, there he was, slim and handsome, and dressed +the gaudiest and prettiest you ever saw, and he lit into that horse with +his whip and made him fairly hum--and finally skipped off, and made his +bow and danced off to the dressing-room, and everybody just a-howling +with pleasure and astonishment. + +Then the ringmaster he see how he had been fooled, and he WAS the sickest +ringmaster you ever see, I reckon. Why, it was one of his own men! He +had got up that joke all out of his own head, and never let on to nobody. +Well, I felt sheepish enough to be took in so, but I wouldn't a been in +that ringmaster's place, not for a thousand dollars. I don't know; there +may be bullier circuses than what that one was, but I never struck them +yet. Anyways, it was plenty good enough for ME; and wherever I run across +it, it can have all of MY custom every time. + +Well, that night we had OUR show; but there warn't only about twelve +people there--just enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all the +time, and that made the duke mad; and everybody left, anyway, before the +show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke said these +Arkansaw lunkheads couldn't come up to Shakespeare; what they wanted was +low comedy--and maybe something ruther worse than low comedy, he +reckoned. He said he could size their style. So next morning he got +some big sheets of wrapping paper and some black paint, and drawed off +some handbills, and stuck them up all over the village. The bills said: + +AT THE COURT HOUSE! FOR 3 NIGHTS ONLY! The World-Renowned Tragedians +DAVID GARRICK THE YOUNGER! AND EDMUND KEAN THE ELDER! Of the London and +Continental Theatres, In their Thrilling Tragedy of THE KING'S +CAMELEOPARD, OR THE ROYAL NONESUCH ! ! ! Admission 50 cents. + +Then at the bottom was the biggest line of all, which said: + +LADIES AND CHILDREN NOT ADMITTED. + +"There," says he, "if that line don't fetch them, I don't know Arkansaw!" + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +WELL, all day him and the king was hard at it, rigging up a stage and a +curtain and a row of candles for footlights; and that night the house was +jam full of men in no time. When the place couldn't hold no more, the +duke he quit tending door and went around the back way and come on to the +stage and stood up before the curtain and made a little speech, and +praised up this tragedy, and said it was the most thrillingest one that +ever was; and so he went on a-bragging about the tragedy, and about +Edmund Kean the Elder, which was to play the main principal part in it; +and at last when he'd got everybody's expectations up high enough, he +rolled up the curtain, and the next minute the king come a-prancing out +on all fours, naked; and he was painted all over, ring-streaked-and- +striped, all sorts of colors, as splendid as a rainbow. And--but never +mind the rest of his outfit; it was just wild, but it was awful funny. +The people most killed themselves laughing; and when the king got done +capering and capered off behind the scenes, they roared and clapped and +stormed and haw-hawed till he come back and done it over again, and after +that they made him do it another time. Well, it would make a cow laugh to +see the shines that old idiot cut. + +Then the duke he lets the curtain down, and bows to the people, and says +the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of +pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it +in Drury Lane; and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has +succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply +obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come +and see it. + +Twenty people sings out: + +"What, is it over? Is that ALL?" + +The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, +"Sold!" and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them +tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts: + +"Hold on! Just a word, gentlemen." They stopped to listen. "We are +sold--mighty badly sold. But we don't want to be the laughing stock of +this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long +as we live. NO. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this +show up, and sell the REST of the town! Then we'll all be in the same +boat. Ain't that sensible?" ("You bet it is!--the jedge is right!" +everybody sings out.) "All right, then--not a word about any sell. Go +along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy." + +Next day you couldn't hear nothing around that town but how splendid that +show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this crowd the +same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the raft we all +had a supper; and by and by, about midnight, they made Jim and me back +her out and float her down the middle of the river, and fetch her in and +hide her about two mile below town. + +The third night the house was crammed again--and they warn't new-comers +this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I stood +by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had his +pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it +warn't no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs +by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the +signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of +them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for +me; I couldn't stand it. Well, when the place couldn't hold no more +people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for +him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him; +but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says: + +"Walk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the +raft like the dickens was after you!" + +I done it, and he done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, +and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and +still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word. +I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience, +but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam, +and says: + +"Well, how'd the old thing pan out this time, duke?" He hadn't been up- +town at all. + +We never showed a light till we was about ten mile below the village. +Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly laughed +their bones loose over the way they'd served them people. The duke says: + +"Greenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let +the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they'd lay for us the third +night, and consider it was THEIR turn now. Well, it IS their turn, and +I'd give something to know how much they'd take for it. I WOULD just +like to know how they're putting in their opportunity. They can turn it +into a picnic if they want to--they brought plenty provisions." + +Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that +three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that +before. By and by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says: + +"Don't it s'prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?" + +"No," I says, "it don't." + +"Why don't it, Huck?" + +"Well, it don't, because it's in the breed. I reckon they're all alike," + +"But, Huck, dese kings o' ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat's jist what +dey is; dey's reglar rapscallions." + +"Well, that's what I'm a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur +as I can make out." + +"Is dat so?" + +"You read about them once--you'll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this 'n +'s a Sunday-school Superintendent to HIM. And look at Charles Second, +and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward +Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon +heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, +you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He WAS a +blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head +next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was +ordering up eggs. 'Fetch up Nell Gwynn,' he says. They fetch her up. +Next morning, 'Chop off her head!' And they chop it off. 'Fetch up Jane +Shore,' he says; and up she comes, Next morning, 'Chop off her head'--and +they chop it off. 'Ring up Fair Rosamun.' Fair Rosamun answers the +bell. Next morning, 'Chop off her head.' And he made every one of them +tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a +thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and +called it Domesday Book--which was a good name and stated the case. You +don't know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one +of the cleanest I've struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he +wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it-- +give notice?--give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves +all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of +independence, and dares them to come on. That was HIS style--he never +give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of +Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No--drownded +him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S'pose people left money laying +around where he was--what did he do? He collared it. S'pose he +contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn't set down there and +see that he done it--what did he do? He always done the other thing. +S'pose he opened his mouth--what then? If he didn't shut it up powerful +quick he'd lose a lie every time. That's the kind of a bug Henry was; +and if we'd a had him along 'stead of our kings he'd a fooled that town a +heap worse than ourn done. I don't say that ourn is lambs, because they +ain't, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain't nothing +to THAT old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to +make allowances. Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot. +It's the way they're raised." + +"But dis one do SMELL so like de nation, Huck." + +"Well, they all do, Jim. We can't help the way a king smells; history +don't tell no way." + +"Now de duke, he's a tolerble likely man in some ways." + +"Yes, a duke's different. But not very different. This one's a middling +hard lot for a duke. When he's drunk there ain't no near-sighted man +could tell him from a king." + +"Well, anyways, I doan' hanker for no mo' un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin +stan'." + +"It's the way I feel, too, Jim. But we've got them on our hands, and we +got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we +could hear of a country that's out of kings." + +What was the use to tell Jim these warn't real kings and dukes? It +wouldn't a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you +couldn't tell them from the real kind. + +I went to sleep, and Jim didn't call me when it was my turn. He often +done that. When I waked up just at daybreak he was sitting there with +his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I +didn't take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was +thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low +and homesick; because he hadn't ever been away from home before in his +life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white +folks does for their'n. It don't seem natural, but I reckon it's so. He +was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was +asleep, and saying, "Po' little 'Lizabeth! po' little Johnny! it's mighty +hard; I spec' I ain't ever gwyne to see you no mo', no mo'!" He was a +mighty good nigger, Jim was. + +But this time I somehow got to talking to him about his wife and young +ones; and by and by he says: + +"What makes me feel so bad dis time 'uz bekase I hear sumpn over yonder +on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er de time I +treat my little 'Lizabeth so ornery. She warn't on'y 'bout fo' year ole, +en she tuck de sk'yarlet fever, en had a powful rough spell; but she got +well, en one day she was a-stannin' aroun', en I says to her, I says: + +"'Shet de do'.' + +"She never done it; jis' stood dah, kiner smilin' up at me. It make me +mad; en I says agin, mighty loud, I says: + +"'Doan' you hear me? Shet de do'!' + +"She jis stood de same way, kiner smilin' up. I was a-bilin'! I says: + +"'I lay I MAKE you mine!' + +"En wid dat I fetch' her a slap side de head dat sont her a-sprawlin'. +Den I went into de yuther room, en 'uz gone 'bout ten minutes; en when I +come back dah was dat do' a-stannin' open YIT, en dat chile stannin' mos' +right in it, a-lookin' down and mournin', en de tears runnin' down. My, +but I WUZ mad! I was a-gwyne for de chile, but jis' den--it was a do' +dat open innerds--jis' den, 'long come de wind en slam it to, behine de +chile, ker-BLAM!--en my lan', de chile never move'! My breff mos' hop +outer me; en I feel so--so--I doan' know HOW I feel. I crope out, all a- +tremblin', en crope aroun' en open de do' easy en slow, en poke my head +in behine de chile, sof' en still, en all uv a sudden I says POW! jis' as +loud as I could yell. SHE NEVER BUDGE! Oh, Huck, I bust out a-cryin' en +grab her up in my arms, en say, 'Oh, de po' little thing! De Lord God +Amighty fogive po' ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to fogive hisself as +long's he live!' Oh, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en +dumb--en I'd ben a-treat'n her so!" + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +NEXT day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow towhead out in +the middle, where there was a village on each side of the river, and the +duke and the king begun to lay out a plan for working them towns. Jim he +spoke to the duke, and said he hoped it wouldn't take but a few hours, +because it got mighty heavy and tiresome to him when he had to lay all +day in the wigwam tied with the rope. You see, when we left him all +alone we had to tie him, because if anybody happened on to him all by +himself and not tied it wouldn't look much like he was a runaway nigger, +you know. So the duke said it WAS kind of hard to have to lay roped all +day, and he'd cipher out some way to get around it. + +He was uncommon bright, the duke was, and he soon struck it. He dressed +Jim up in King Lear's outfit--it was a long curtain-calico gown, and a +white horse-hair wig and whiskers; and then he took his theater paint and +painted Jim's face and hands and ears and neck all over a dead, dull, +solid blue, like a man that's been drownded nine days. Blamed if he +warn't the horriblest looking outrage I ever see. Then the duke took and +wrote out a sign on a shingle so: + +Sick Arab--but harmless when not out of his head. + +And he nailed that shingle to a lath, and stood the lath up four or five +foot in front of the wigwam. Jim was satisfied. He said it was a sight +better than lying tied a couple of years every day, and trembling all +over every time there was a sound. The duke told him to make himself +free and easy, and if anybody ever come meddling around, he must hop out +of the wigwam, and carry on a little, and fetch a howl or two like a wild +beast, and he reckoned they would light out and leave him alone. Which +was sound enough judgment; but you take the average man, and he wouldn't +wait for him to howl. Why, he didn't only look like he was dead, he +looked considerable more than that. + +These rapscallions wanted to try the Nonesuch again, because there was so +much money in it, but they judged it wouldn't be safe, because maybe the +news might a worked along down by this time. They couldn't hit no +project that suited exactly; so at last the duke said he reckoned he'd +lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if he couldn't put up +something on the Arkansaw village; and the king he allowed he would drop +over to t'other village without any plan, but just trust in Providence to +lead him the profitable way--meaning the devil, I reckon. We had all +bought store clothes where we stopped last; and now the king put his'n +on, and he told me to put mine on. I done it, of course. The king's +duds was all black, and he did look real swell and starchy. I never +knowed how clothes could change a body before. Why, before, he looked +like the orneriest old rip that ever was; but now, when he'd take off his +new white beaver and make a bow and do a smile, he looked that grand and +good and pious that you'd say he had walked right out of the ark, and +maybe was old Leviticus himself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I got my +paddle ready. There was a big steamboat laying at the shore away up +under the point, about three mile above the town--been there a couple +of hours, taking on freight. Says the king: + +"Seein' how I'm dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. +Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, +Huckleberry; we'll come down to the village on her." + +I didn't have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I +fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting +along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice +innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat +off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of +big carpet-bags by him. + +"Run her nose in shore," says the king. I done it. "Wher' you bound +for, young man?" + +"For the steamboat; going to Orleans." + +"Git aboard," says the king. "Hold on a minute, my servant 'll he'p you +with them bags. Jump out and he'p the gentleman, Adolphus"--meaning me, +I see. + +I done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was +mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. +He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he'd come +down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he +was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The +young fellow says: + +"When I first see you I says to myself, 'It's Mr. Wilks, sure, and he +come mighty near getting here in time.' But then I says again, 'No, I +reckon it ain't him, or else he wouldn't be paddling up the river.' You +AIN'T him, are you?" + +"No, my name's Blodgett--Elexander Blodgett--REVEREND Elexander Blodgett, +I s'pose I must say, as I'm one o' the Lord's poor servants. But still +I'm jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arriving in time, all +the same, if he's missed anything by it--which I hope he hasn't." + +"Well, he don't miss any property by it, because he'll get that all +right; but he's missed seeing his brother Peter die--which he mayn't +mind, nobody can tell as to that--but his brother would a give anything +in this world to see HIM before he died; never talked about nothing else +all these three weeks; hadn't seen him since they was boys together--and +hadn't ever seen his brother William at all--that's the deef and dumb +one--William ain't more than thirty or thirty-five. Peter and George +were the only ones that come out here; George was the married brother; +him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William's the only ones +that's left now; and, as I was saying, they haven't got here in time." + +"Did anybody send 'em word?" + +"Oh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter +said then that he sorter felt like he warn't going to get well this time. +You see, he was pretty old, and George's g'yirls was too young to be much +company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was +kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn't seem to care +much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey--and William, +too, for that matter--because he was one of them kind that can't bear to +make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he'd told in +it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property +divided up so George's g'yirls would be all right--for George didn't +leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen +to." + +"Why do you reckon Harvey don't come? Wher' does he live?" + +"Oh, he lives in England--Sheffield--preaches there--hasn't ever been in +this country. He hasn't had any too much time--and besides he mightn't a +got the letter at all, you know." + +"Too bad, too bad he couldn't a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. +You going to Orleans, you say?" + +"Yes, but that ain't only a part of it. I'm going in a ship, next +Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives." + +"It's a pretty long journey. But it'll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. +Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?" + +"Mary Jane's nineteen, Susan's fifteen, and Joanna's about fourteen-- +that's the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip." + +"Poor things! to be left alone in the cold world so." + +"Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain't +going to let them come to no harm. There's Hobson, the Babtis' preacher; +and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi +Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow +Bartley, and--well, there's a lot of them; but these are the ones that +Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote +home; so Harvey 'll know where to look for friends when he gets here." + +Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied +that young fellow. Blamed if he didn't inquire about everybody and +everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about +Peter's business--which was a tanner; and about George's--which was a +carpenter; and about Harvey's--which was a dissentering minister; and so +on, and so on. Then he says: + +"What did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?" + +"Because she's a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn't stop +there. When they're deep they won't stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat +will, but this is a St. Louis one." + +"Was Peter Wilks well off?" + +"Oh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it's reckoned he +left three or four thousand in cash hid up som'ers." + +"When did you say he died?" + +"I didn't say, but it was last night." + +"Funeral to-morrow, likely?" + +"Yes, 'bout the middle of the day." + +"Well, it's all terrible sad; but we've all got to go, one time or +another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we're all right." + +"Yes, sir, it's the best way. Ma used to always say that." + +When we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she +got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my +ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up +another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says: + +"Now hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new +carpet-bags. And if he's gone over to t'other side, go over there and +git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now." + +I see what HE was up to; but I never said nothing, of course. When I got +back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on a log, and +the king told him everything, just like the young fellow had said it-- +every last word of it. And all the time he was a-doing it he tried to +talk like an Englishman; and he done it pretty well, too, for a slouch. +I can't imitate him, and so I ain't a-going to try to; but he really done +it pretty good. Then he says: + +"How are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?" + +The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and +dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a +steamboat. + +About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, +but they didn't come from high enough up the river; but at last there was +a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went +aboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we only wanted +to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and +said they wouldn't land us. But the king was ca'm. He says: + +"If gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and +put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry 'em, can't it?" + +So they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got to the +village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when +they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says: + +"Kin any of you gentlemen tell me wher' Mr. Peter Wilks lives?" they give +a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, "What +d' I tell you?" Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle: + +"I'm sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he DID live +yesterday evening." + +Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up +against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his +back, and says: + +"Alas, alas, our poor brother--gone, and we never got to see him; oh, +it's too, too hard!" + +Then he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs to the +duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn't drop a carpet-bag and bust out +a-crying. If they warn't the beatenest lot, them two frauds, that ever I +struck. + +Well, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said all +sorts of kind things to them, and carried their carpet-bags up the hill +for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the king all about +his brother's last moments, and the king he told it all over again on his +hands to the duke, and both of them took on about that dead tanner like +they'd lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever I struck anything like +it, I'm a nigger. It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race. + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE news was all over town in two minutes, and you could see the people +tearing down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on +their coats as they come. Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd, +and the noise of the tramping was like a soldier march. The windows and +dooryards was full; and every minute somebody would say, over a fence: + +"Is it THEM?" + +And somebody trotting along with the gang would answer back and say: + +"You bet it is." + +When we got to the house the street in front of it was packed, and the +three girls was standing in the door. Mary Jane WAS red-headed, but that +don't make no difference, she was most awful beautiful, and her face and +her eyes was all lit up like glory, she was so glad her uncles was come. +The king he spread his arms, and Mary Jane she jumped for them, and the +hare-lip jumped for the duke, and there they HAD it! Everybody most, +leastways women, cried for joy to see them meet again at last and have +such good times. + +Then the king he hunched the duke private--I see him do it--and then he +looked around and see the coffin, over in the corner on two chairs; so +then him and the duke, with a hand across each other's shoulder, and +t'other hand to their eyes, walked slow and solemn over there, everybody +dropping back to give them room, and all the talk and noise stopping, +people saying "Sh!" and all the men taking their hats off and drooping +their heads, so you could a heard a pin fall. And when they got there +they bent over and looked in the coffin, and took one sight, and then +they bust out a-crying so you could a heard them to Orleans, most; and +then they put their arms around each other's necks, and hung their chins +over each other's shoulders; and then for three minutes, or maybe four, I +never see two men leak the way they done. And, mind you, everybody was +doing the same; and the place was that damp I never see anything like it. +Then one of them got on one side of the coffin, and t'other on t'other +side, and they kneeled down and rested their foreheads on the coffin, and +let on to pray all to themselves. Well, when it come to that it worked +the crowd like you never see anything like it, and everybody broke down +and went to sobbing right out loud--the poor girls, too; and every woman, +nearly, went up to the girls, without saying a word, and kissed them, +solemn, on the forehead, and then put their hand on their head, and +looked up towards the sky, with the tears running down, and then busted +out and went off sobbing and swabbing, and give the next woman a show. I +never see anything so disgusting. + +Well, by and by the king he gets up and comes forward a little, and works +himself up and slobbers out a speech, all full of tears and flapdoodle +about its being a sore trial for him and his poor brother to lose the +diseased, and to miss seeing diseased alive after the long journey of +four thousand mile, but it's a trial that's sweetened and sanctified to +us by this dear sympathy and these holy tears, and so he thanks them out +of his heart and out of his brother's heart, because out of their mouths +they can't, words being too weak and cold, and all that kind of rot and +slush, till it was just sickening; and then he blubbers out a pious +goody-goody Amen, and turns himself loose and goes to crying fit to bust. + +And the minute the words were out of his mouth somebody over in the crowd +struck up the doxolojer, and everybody joined in with all their might, +and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as church letting +out. Music is a good thing; and after all that soul-butter and hogwash I +never see it freshen up things so, and sound so honest and bully. + +Then the king begins to work his jaw again, and says how him and his +nieces would be glad if a few of the main principal friends of the family +would take supper here with them this evening, and help set up with the +ashes of the diseased; and says if his poor brother laying yonder could +speak he knows who he would name, for they was names that was very dear +to him, and mentioned often in his letters; and so he will name the same, +to wit, as follows, vizz.:--Rev. Mr. Hobson, and Deacon Lot Hovey, and +Mr. Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, and Dr. Robinson, +and their wives, and the widow Bartley. + +Rev. Hobson and Dr. Robinson was down to the end of the town a-hunting +together--that is, I mean the doctor was shipping a sick man to t'other +world, and the preacher was pinting him right. Lawyer Bell was away up +to Louisville on business. But the rest was on hand, and so they all +come and shook hands with the king and thanked him and talked to him; and +then they shook hands with the duke and didn't say nothing, but just kept +a-smiling and bobbing their heads like a passel of sapheads whilst he +made all sorts of signs with his hands and said "Goo-goo--goo-goo-goo" +all the time, like a baby that can't talk. + +So the king he blattered along, and managed to inquire about pretty much +everybody and dog in town, by his name, and mentioned all sorts of little +things that happened one time or another in the town, or to George's +family, or to Peter. And he always let on that Peter wrote him the +things; but that was a lie: he got every blessed one of them out of that +young flathead that we canoed up to the steamboat. + +Then Mary Jane she fetched the letter her father left behind, and the +king he read it out loud and cried over it. It give the dwelling-house +and three thousand dollars, gold, to the girls; and it give the tanyard +(which was doing a good business), along with some other houses and land +(worth about seven thousand), and three thousand dollars in gold to +Harvey and William, and told where the six thousand cash was hid down +cellar. So these two frauds said they'd go and fetch it up, and have +everything square and above-board; and told me to come with a candle. We +shut the cellar door behind us, and when they found the bag they spilt it +out on the floor, and it was a lovely sight, all them yaller-boys. My, +the way the king's eyes did shine! He slaps the duke on the shoulder and +says: + +"Oh, THIS ain't bully nor noth'n! Oh, no, I reckon not! Why, Biljy, it +beats the Nonesuch, DON'T it?" + +The duke allowed it did. They pawed the yaller-boys, and sifted them +through their fingers and let them jingle down on the floor; and the king +says: + +"It ain't no use talkin'; bein' brothers to a rich dead man and +representatives of furrin heirs that's got left is the line for you and +me, Bilge. Thish yer comes of trust'n to Providence. It's the best way, +in the long run. I've tried 'em all, and ther' ain't no better way." + +Most everybody would a been satisfied with the pile, and took it on +trust; but no, they must count it. So they counts it, and it comes out +four hundred and fifteen dollars short. Says the king: + +"Dern him, I wonder what he done with that four hundred and fifteen +dollars?" + +They worried over that awhile, and ransacked all around for it. Then the +duke says: + +"Well, he was a pretty sick man, and likely he made a mistake--I reckon +that's the way of it. The best way's to let it go, and keep still about +it. We can spare it." + +"Oh, shucks, yes, we can SPARE it. I don't k'yer noth'n 'bout that--it's +the COUNT I'm thinkin' about. We want to be awful square and open and +above-board here, you know. We want to lug this h-yer money up stairs +and count it before everybody--then ther' ain't noth'n suspicious. But +when the dead man says ther's six thous'n dollars, you know, we don't +want to--" + +"Hold on," says the duke. "Le's make up the deffisit," and he begun to +haul out yaller-boys out of his pocket. + +"It's a most amaz'n' good idea, duke--you HAVE got a rattlin' clever head +on you," says the king. "Blest if the old Nonesuch ain't a heppin' us +out agin," and HE begun to haul out yaller-jackets and stack them up. + +It most busted them, but they made up the six thousand clean and clear. + +"Say," says the duke, "I got another idea. Le's go up stairs and count +this money, and then take and GIVE IT TO THE GIRLS." + +"Good land, duke, lemme hug you! It's the most dazzling idea 'at ever a +man struck. You have cert'nly got the most astonishin' head I ever see. +Oh, this is the boss dodge, ther' ain't no mistake 'bout it. Let 'em +fetch along their suspicions now if they want to--this 'll lay 'em out." + +When we got up-stairs everybody gethered around the table, and the king +he counted it and stacked it up, three hundred dollars in a pile--twenty +elegant little piles. Everybody looked hungry at it, and licked their +chops. Then they raked it into the bag again, and I see the king begin +to swell himself up for another speech. He says: + +"Friends all, my poor brother that lays yonder has done generous by them +that's left behind in the vale of sorrers. He has done generous by these +yer poor little lambs that he loved and sheltered, and that's left +fatherless and motherless. Yes, and we that knowed him knows that he +would a done MORE generous by 'em if he hadn't ben afeard o' woundin' his +dear William and me. Now, WOULDN'T he? Ther' ain't no question 'bout it +in MY mind. Well, then, what kind o' brothers would it be that 'd stand +in his way at sech a time? And what kind o' uncles would it be that 'd +rob--yes, ROB--sech poor sweet lambs as these 'at he loved so at sech a +time? If I know William--and I THINK I do--he--well, I'll jest ask him." +He turns around and begins to make a lot of signs to the duke with his +hands, and the duke he looks at him stupid and leather-headed a while; +then all of a sudden he seems to catch his meaning, and jumps for the +king, goo-gooing with all his might for joy, and hugs him about fifteen +times before he lets up. Then the king says, "I knowed it; I reckon THAT +'ll convince anybody the way HE feels about it. Here, Mary Jane, Susan, +Joanner, take the money--take it ALL. It's the gift of him that lays +yonder, cold but joyful." + +Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the hare-lip went for the duke, and +then such another hugging and kissing I never see yet. And everybody +crowded up with the tears in their eyes, and most shook the hands off of +them frauds, saying all the time: + +"You DEAR good souls!--how LOVELY!--how COULD you!" + +Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the diseased +again, and how good he was, and what a loss he was, and all that; and +before long a big iron-jawed man worked himself in there from outside, +and stood a-listening and looking, and not saying anything; and nobody +saying anything to him either, because the king was talking and they was +all busy listening. The king was saying--in the middle of something he'd +started in on-- + +"--they bein' partickler friends o' the diseased. That's why they're +invited here this evenin'; but tomorrow we want ALL to come--everybody; +for he respected everybody, he liked everybody, and so it's fitten that +his funeral orgies sh'd be public." + +And so he went a-mooning on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and +every little while he fetched in his funeral orgies again, till the duke +he couldn't stand it no more; so he writes on a little scrap of paper, +"OBSEQUIES, you old fool," and folds it up, and goes to goo-gooing and +reaching it over people's heads to him. The king he reads it and puts it +in his pocket, and says: + +"Poor William, afflicted as he is, his HEART'S aluz right. Asks me to +invite everybody to come to the funeral--wants me to make 'em all +welcome. But he needn't a worried--it was jest what I was at." + +Then he weaves along again, perfectly ca'm, and goes to dropping in his +funeral orgies again every now and then, just like he done before. And +when he done it the third time he says: + +"I say orgies, not because it's the common term, because it ain't-- +obsequies bein' the common term--but because orgies is the right term. +Obsequies ain't used in England no more now--it's gone out. We say +orgies now in England. Orgies is better, because it means the thing +you're after more exact. It's a word that's made up out'n the Greek +ORGO, outside, open, abroad; and the Hebrew JEESUM, to plant, cover up; +hence inTER. So, you see, funeral orgies is an open er public funeral." + +He was the WORST I ever struck. Well, the iron-jawed man he laughed +right in his face. Everybody was shocked. Everybody says, "Why, +DOCTOR!" and Abner Shackleford says: + +"Why, Robinson, hain't you heard the news? This is Harvey Wilks." + +The king he smiled eager, and shoved out his flapper, and says: + +"Is it my poor brother's dear good friend and physician? I--" + +"Keep your hands off of me!" says the doctor. "YOU talk like an +Englishman, DON'T you? It's the worst imitation I ever heard. YOU Peter +Wilks's brother! You're a fraud, that's what you are!" + +Well, how they all took on! They crowded around the doctor and tried to +quiet him down, and tried to explain to him and tell him how Harvey 'd +showed in forty ways that he WAS Harvey, and knowed everybody by name, +and the names of the very dogs, and begged and BEGGED him not to hurt +Harvey's feelings and the poor girl's feelings, and all that. But it +warn't no use; he stormed right along, and said any man that pretended to +be an Englishman and couldn't imitate the lingo no better than what he +did was a fraud and a liar. The poor girls was hanging to the king and +crying; and all of a sudden the doctor ups and turns on THEM. He says: + +"I was your father's friend, and I'm your friend; and I warn you as a +friend, and an honest one that wants to protect you and keep you out of +harm and trouble, to turn your backs on that scoundrel and have nothing +to do with him, the ignorant tramp, with his idiotic Greek and Hebrew, as +he calls it. He is the thinnest kind of an impostor--has come here with +a lot of empty names and facts which he picked up somewheres, and you +take them for PROOFS, and are helped to fool yourselves by these foolish +friends here, who ought to know better. Mary Jane Wilks, you know me for +your friend, and for your unselfish friend, too. Now listen to me; turn +this pitiful rascal out--I BEG you to do it. Will you?" + +Mary Jane straightened herself up, and my, but she was handsome! She +says: + +"HERE is my answer." She hove up the bag of money and put it in the +king's hands, and says, "Take this six thousand dollars, and invest for +me and my sisters any way you want to, and don't give us no receipt for +it." + +Then she put her arm around the king on one side, and Susan and the hare- +lip done the same on the other. Everybody clapped their hands and +stomped on the floor like a perfect storm, whilst the king held up his +head and smiled proud. The doctor says: + +"All right; I wash MY hands of the matter. But I warn you all that a +time 's coming when you're going to feel sick whenever you think of this +day." And away he went. + +"All right, doctor," says the king, kinder mocking him; "we'll try and +get 'em to send for you;" which made them all laugh, and they said it was +a prime good hit. + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +WELL, when they was all gone the king he asks Mary Jane how they was off +for spare rooms, and she said she had one spare room, which would do for +Uncle William, and she'd give her own room to Uncle Harvey, which was a +little bigger, and she would turn into the room with her sisters and +sleep on a cot; and up garret was a little cubby, with a pallet in it. +The king said the cubby would do for his valley--meaning me. + +So Mary Jane took us up, and she showed them their rooms, which was plain +but nice. She said she'd have her frocks and a lot of other traps took +out of her room if they was in Uncle Harvey's way, but he said they +warn't. The frocks was hung along the wall, and before them was a +curtain made out of calico that hung down to the floor. There was an old +hair trunk in one corner, and a guitar-box in another, and all sorts of +little knickknacks and jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room +with. The king said it was all the more homely and more pleasanter for +these fixings, and so don't disturb them. The duke's room was pretty +small, but plenty good enough, and so was my cubby. + +That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there, +and I stood behind the king and the duke's chairs and waited on them, and +the niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of the +table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, +and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried +chickens was--and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to +force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, +and said so--said "How DO you get biscuits to brown so nice?" and "Where, +for the land's sake, DID you get these amaz'n pickles?" and all that kind +of humbug talky-talk, just the way people always does at a supper, you +know. + +And when it was all done me and the hare-lip had supper in the kitchen +off of the leavings, whilst the others was helping the niggers clean up +the things. The hare-lip she got to pumping me about England, and blest +if I didn't think the ice was getting mighty thin sometimes. She says: + +"Did you ever see the king?" + +"Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I have--he goes to our church." I +knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on. So when I says he goes +to our church, she says: + +"What--regular?" + +"Yes--regular. His pew's right over opposite ourn--on t'other side the +pulpit." + +"I thought he lived in London?" + +"Well, he does. Where WOULD he live?" + +"But I thought YOU lived in Sheffield?" + +I see I was up a stump. I had to let on to get choked with a chicken +bone, so as to get time to think how to get down again. Then I says: + +"I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield. That's +only in the summer time, when he comes there to take the sea baths." + +"Why, how you talk--Sheffield ain't on the sea." + +"Well, who said it was?" + +"Why, you did." + +"I DIDN'T nuther." + +"You did!" + +"I didn't." + +"You did." + +"I never said nothing of the kind." + +"Well, what DID you say, then?" + +"Said he come to take the sea BATHS--that's what I said." + +"Well, then, how's he going to take the sea baths if it ain't on the +sea?" + +"Looky here," I says; "did you ever see any Congress-water?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, did you have to go to Congress to get it?" + +"Why, no." + +"Well, neither does William Fourth have to go to the sea to get a sea +bath." + +"How does he get it, then?" + +"Gets it the way people down here gets Congress-water--in barrels. There +in the palace at Sheffield they've got furnaces, and he wants his water +hot. They can't bile that amount of water away off there at the sea. +They haven't got no conveniences for it." + +"Oh, I see, now. You might a said that in the first place and saved +time." + +When she said that I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was +comfortable and glad. Next, she says: + +"Do you go to church, too?" + +"Yes--regular." + +"Where do you set?" + +"Why, in our pew." + +"WHOSE pew?" + +"Why, OURN--your Uncle Harvey's." + +"His'n? What does HE want with a pew?" + +"Wants it to set in. What did you RECKON he wanted with it?" + +"Why, I thought he'd be in the pulpit." + +Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I +played another chicken bone and got another think. Then I says: + +"Blame it, do you suppose there ain't but one preacher to a church?" + +"Why, what do they want with more?" + +"What!--to preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you. +They don't have no less than seventeen." + +"Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn't set out such a string as that, not +if I NEVER got to glory. It must take 'em a week." + +"Shucks, they don't ALL of 'em preach the same day--only ONE of 'em." + +"Well, then, what does the rest of 'em do?" + +"Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate--and one thing or +another. But mainly they don't do nothing." + +"Well, then, what are they FOR?" + +"Why, they're for STYLE. Don't you know nothing?" + +"Well, I don't WANT to know no such foolishness as that. How is servants +treated in England? Do they treat 'em better 'n we treat our niggers?" + +"NO! A servant ain't nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs." + +"Don't they give 'em holidays, the way we do, Christmas and New Year's +week, and Fourth of July?" + +"Oh, just listen! A body could tell YOU hain't ever been to England by +that. Why, Hare-l--why, Joanna, they never see a holiday from year's end +to year's end; never go to the circus, nor theater, nor nigger shows, nor +nowheres." + +"Nor church?" + +"Nor church." + +"But YOU always went to church." + +Well, I was gone up again. I forgot I was the old man's servant. But +next minute I whirled in on a kind of an explanation how a valley was +different from a common servant and HAD to go to church whether he wanted +to or not, and set with the family, on account of its being the law. But +I didn't do it pretty good, and when I got done I see she warn't +satisfied. She says: + +"Honest injun, now, hain't you been telling me a lot of lies?" + +"Honest injun," says I. + +"None of it at all?" + +"None of it at all. Not a lie in it," says I. + +"Lay your hand on this book and say it." + +I see it warn't nothing but a dictionary, so I laid my hand on it and +said it. So then she looked a little better satisfied, and says: + +"Well, then, I'll believe some of it; but I hope to gracious if I'll +believe the rest." + +"What is it you won't believe, Joe?" says Mary Jane, stepping in with +Susan behind her. "It ain't right nor kind for you to talk so to him, +and him a stranger and so far from his people. How would you like to be +treated so?" + +"That's always your way, Maim--always sailing in to help somebody before +they're hurt. I hain't done nothing to him. He's told some stretchers, +I reckon, and I said I wouldn't swallow it all; and that's every bit and +grain I DID say. I reckon he can stand a little thing like that, can't +he?" + +"I don't care whether 'twas little or whether 'twas big; he's here in our +house and a stranger, and it wasn't good of you to say it. If you was in +his place it would make you feel ashamed; and so you oughtn't to say a +thing to another person that will make THEM feel ashamed." + +"Why, Maim, he said--" + +"It don't make no difference what he SAID--that ain't the thing. The +thing is for you to treat him KIND, and not be saying things to make him +remember he ain't in his own country and amongst his own folks." + +I says to myself, THIS is a girl that I'm letting that old reptle rob her +of her money! + +Then Susan SHE waltzed in; and if you'll believe me, she did give Hare- +lip hark from the tomb! + +Says I to myself, and this is ANOTHER one that I'm letting him rob her of +her money! + +Then Mary Jane she took another inning, and went in sweet and lovely +again--which was her way; but when she got done there warn't hardly +anything left o' poor Hare-lip. So she hollered. + +"All right, then," says the other girls; "you just ask his pardon." + +She done it, too; and she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful it +was good to hear; and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so she +could do it again. + +I says to myself, this is ANOTHER one that I'm letting him rob her of her +money. And when she got through they all jest laid theirselves out to +make me feel at home and know I was amongst friends. I felt so ornery +and low down and mean that I says to myself, my mind's made up; I'll hive +that money for them or bust. + +So then I lit out--for bed, I said, meaning some time or another. When I +got by myself I went to thinking the thing over. I says to myself, shall +I go to that doctor, private, and blow on these frauds? No--that won't +do. He might tell who told him; then the king and the duke would make it +warm for me. Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane? No--I dasn't do +it. Her face would give them a hint, sure; they've got the money, and +they'd slide right out and get away with it. If she was to fetch in help +I'd get mixed up in the business before it was done with, I judge. No; +there ain't no good way but one. I got to steal that money, somehow; and +I got to steal it some way that they won't suspicion that I done it. +They've got a good thing here, and they ain't a-going to leave till +they've played this family and this town for all they're worth, so I'll +find a chance time enough. I'll steal it and hide it; and by and by, when +I'm away down the river, I'll write a letter and tell Mary Jane where +it's hid. But I better hive it tonight if I can, because the doctor +maybe hasn't let up as much as he lets on he has; he might scare them out +of here yet. + +So, thinks I, I'll go and search them rooms. Upstairs the hall was dark, +but I found the duke's room, and started to paw around it with my hands; +but I recollected it wouldn't be much like the king to let anybody else +take care of that money but his own self; so then I went to his room and +begun to paw around there. But I see I couldn't do nothing without a +candle, and I dasn't light one, of course. So I judged I'd got to do the +other thing--lay for them and eavesdrop. About that time I hears their +footsteps coming, and was going to skip under the bed; I reached for it, +but it wasn't where I thought it would be; but I touched the curtain that +hid Mary Jane's frocks, so I jumped in behind that and snuggled in +amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly still. + +They come in and shut the door; and the first thing the duke done was to +get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn't found the bed +when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it's kind of natural to hide under +the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down then, and +the king says: + +"Well, what is it? And cut it middlin' short, because it's better for us +to be down there a-whoopin' up the mournin' than up here givin' 'em a +chance to talk us over." + +"Well, this is it, Capet. I ain't easy; I ain't comfortable. That +doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I've got a notion, +and I think it's a sound one." + +"What is it, duke?" + +"That we better glide out of this before three in the morning, and clip +it down the river with what we've got. Specially, seeing we got it so +easy--GIVEN back to us, flung at our heads, as you may say, when of +course we allowed to have to steal it back. I'm for knocking off and +lighting out." + +That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been a +little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed, The king +rips out and says: + +"What! And not sell out the rest o' the property? March off like a +passel of fools and leave eight or nine thous'n' dollars' worth o' +property layin' around jest sufferin' to be scooped in?--and all good, +salable stuff, too." + +The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn't want +to go no deeper--didn't want to rob a lot of orphans of EVERYTHING they +had. + +"Why, how you talk!" says the king. "We sha'n't rob 'em of nothing at +all but jest this money. The people that BUYS the property is the +suff'rers; because as soon 's it's found out 'at we didn't own it--which +won't be long after we've slid--the sale won't be valid, and it 'll all +go back to the estate. These yer orphans 'll git their house back agin, +and that's enough for THEM; they're young and spry, and k'n easy earn a +livin'. THEY ain't a-goin to suffer. Why, jest think--there's thous'n's +and thous'n's that ain't nigh so well off. Bless you, THEY ain't got +noth'n' to complain of." + +Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he give in, and said all +right, but said he believed it was blamed foolishness to stay, and that +doctor hanging over them. But the king says: + +"Cuss the doctor! What do we k'yer for HIM? Hain't we got all the fools +in town on our side? And ain't that a big enough majority in any town?" + +So they got ready to go down stairs again. The duke says: + +"I don't think we put that money in a good place." + +That cheered me up. I'd begun to think I warn't going to get a hint of +no kind to help me. The king says: + +"Why?" + +"Because Mary Jane 'll be in mourning from this out; and first you know +the nigger that does up the rooms will get an order to box these duds up +and put 'em away; and do you reckon a nigger can run across money and not +borrow some of it?" + +"Your head's level agin, duke," says the king; and he comes a-fumbling +under the curtain two or three foot from where I was. I stuck tight to +the wall and kept mighty still, though quivery; and I wondered what them +fellows would say to me if they catched me; and I tried to think what I'd +better do if they did catch me. But the king he got the bag before I +could think more than about a half a thought, and he never suspicioned I +was around. They took and shoved the bag through a rip in the straw tick +that was under the feather-bed, and crammed it in a foot or two amongst +the straw and said it was all right now, because a nigger only makes up +the feather-bed, and don't turn over the straw tick only about twice a +year, and so it warn't in no danger of getting stole now. + +But I knowed better. I had it out of there before they was half-way down +stairs. I groped along up to my cubby, and hid it there till I could get +a chance to do better. I judged I better hide it outside of the house +somewheres, because if they missed it they would give the house a good +ransacking: I knowed that very well. Then I turned in, with my clothes +all on; but I couldn't a gone to sleep if I'd a wanted to, I was in such +a sweat to get through with the business. By and by I heard the king and +the duke come up; so I rolled off my pallet and laid with my chin at the +top of my ladder, and waited to see if anything was going to happen. But +nothing did. + +So I held on till all the late sounds had quit and the early ones hadn't +begun yet; and then I slipped down the ladder. + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +I CREPT to their doors and listened; they was snoring. So I tiptoed +along, and got down stairs all right. There warn't a sound anywheres. I +peeped through a crack of the dining-room door, and see the men that was +watching the corpse all sound asleep on their chairs. The door was open +into the parlor, where the corpse was laying, and there was a candle in +both rooms. I passed along, and the parlor door was open; but I see there +warn't nobody in there but the remainders of Peter; so I shoved on by; +but the front door was locked, and the key wasn't there. Just then I +heard somebody coming down the stairs, back behind me. I run in the +parlor and took a swift look around, and the only place I see to hide the +bag was in the coffin. The lid was shoved along about a foot, showing +the dead man's face down in there, with a wet cloth over it, and his +shroud on. I tucked the money-bag in under the lid, just down beyond +where his hands was crossed, which made me creep, they was so cold, and +then I run back across the room and in behind the door. + +The person coming was Mary Jane. She went to the coffin, very soft, and +kneeled down and looked in; then she put up her handkerchief, and I see +she begun to cry, though I couldn't hear her, and her back was to me. I +slid out, and as I passed the dining-room I thought I'd make sure them +watchers hadn't seen me; so I looked through the crack, and everything +was all right. They hadn't stirred. + +I slipped up to bed, feeling ruther blue, on accounts of the thing +playing out that way after I had took so much trouble and run so much +resk about it. Says I, if it could stay where it is, all right; because +when we get down the river a hundred mile or two I could write back to +Mary Jane, and she could dig him up again and get it; but that ain't the +thing that's going to happen; the thing that's going to happen is, the +money 'll be found when they come to screw on the lid. Then the king 'll +get it again, and it 'll be a long day before he gives anybody another +chance to smouch it from him. Of course I WANTED to slide down and get it +out of there, but I dasn't try it. Every minute it was getting earlier +now, and pretty soon some of them watchers would begin to stir, and I +might get catched--catched with six thousand dollars in my hands that +nobody hadn't hired me to take care of. I don't wish to be mixed up in +no such business as that, I says to myself. + +When I got down stairs in the morning the parlor was shut up, and the +watchers was gone. There warn't nobody around but the family and the +widow Bartley and our tribe. I watched their faces to see if anything +had been happening, but I couldn't tell. + +Towards the middle of the day the undertaker come with his man, and they +set the coffin in the middle of the room on a couple of chairs, and then +set all our chairs in rows, and borrowed more from the neighbors till the +hall and the parlor and the dining-room was full. I see the coffin lid +was the way it was before, but I dasn't go to look in under it, with +folks around. + +Then the people begun to flock in, and the beats and the girls took seats +in the front row at the head of the coffin, and for a half an hour the +people filed around slow, in single rank, and looked down at the dead +man's face a minute, and some dropped in a tear, and it was all very +still and solemn, only the girls and the beats holding handkerchiefs to +their eyes and keeping their heads bent, and sobbing a little. There +warn't no other sound but the scraping of the feet on the floor and +blowing noses--because people always blows them more at a funeral than +they do at other places except church. + +When the place was packed full the undertaker he slid around in his black +gloves with his softy soothering ways, putting on the last touches, and +getting people and things all ship-shape and comfortable, and making no +more sound than a cat. He never spoke; he moved people around, he +squeezed in late ones, he opened up passageways, and done it with nods, +and signs with his hands. Then he took his place over against the wall. +He was the softest, glidingest, stealthiest man I ever see; and there +warn't no more smile to him than there is to a ham. + +They had borrowed a melodeum--a sick one; and when everything was ready a +young woman set down and worked it, and it was pretty skreeky and +colicky, and everybody joined in and sung, and Peter was the only one +that had a good thing, according to my notion. Then the Reverend Hobson +opened up, slow and solemn, and begun to talk; and straight off the most +outrageous row busted out in the cellar a body ever heard; it was only +one dog, but he made a most powerful racket, and he kept it up right +along; the parson he had to stand there, over the coffin, and wait--you +couldn't hear yourself think. It was right down awkward, and nobody +didn't seem to know what to do. But pretty soon they see that long- +legged undertaker make a sign to the preacher as much as to say, "Don't +you worry--just depend on me." Then he stooped down and begun to glide +along the wall, just his shoulders showing over the people's heads. So +he glided along, and the powwow and racket getting more and more +outrageous all the time; and at last, when he had gone around two sides +of the room, he disappears down cellar. Then in about two seconds we +heard a whack, and the dog he finished up with a most amazing howl or +two, and then everything was dead still, and the parson begun his solemn +talk where he left off. In a minute or two here comes this undertaker's +back and shoulders gliding along the wall again; and so he glided and +glided around three sides of the room, and then rose up, and shaded his +mouth with his hands, and stretched his neck out towards the preacher, +over the people's heads, and says, in a kind of a coarse whisper, "HE HAD +A RAT!" Then he drooped down and glided along the wall again to his +place. You could see it was a great satisfaction to the people, because +naturally they wanted to know. A little thing like that don't cost +nothing, and it's just the little things that makes a man to be looked up +to and liked. There warn't no more popular man in town than what that +undertaker was. + +Well, the funeral sermon was very good, but pison long and tiresome; and +then the king he shoved in and got off some of his usual rubbage, and at +last the job was through, and the undertaker begun to sneak up on the +coffin with his screw-driver. I was in a sweat then, and watched him +pretty keen. But he never meddled at all; just slid the lid along as soft +as mush, and screwed it down tight and fast. So there I was! I didn't +know whether the money was in there or not. So, says I, s'pose somebody +has hogged that bag on the sly?--now how do I know whether to write to +Mary Jane or not? S'pose she dug him up and didn't find nothing, what +would she think of me? Blame it, I says, I might get hunted up and +jailed; I'd better lay low and keep dark, and not write at all; the +thing's awful mixed now; trying to better it, I've worsened it a hundred +times, and I wish to goodness I'd just let it alone, dad fetch the whole +business! + +They buried him, and we come back home, and I went to watching faces +again--I couldn't help it, and I couldn't rest easy. But nothing come +of it; the faces didn't tell me nothing. + +The king he visited around in the evening, and sweetened everybody up, +and made himself ever so friendly; and he give out the idea that his +congregation over in England would be in a sweat about him, so he must +hurry and settle up the estate right away and leave for home. He was +very sorry he was so pushed, and so was everybody; they wished he could +stay longer, but they said they could see it couldn't be done. And he +said of course him and William would take the girls home with them; and +that pleased everybody too, because then the girls would be well fixed +and amongst their own relations; and it pleased the girls, too--tickled +them so they clean forgot they ever had a trouble in the world; and told +him to sell out as quick as he wanted to, they would be ready. Them poor +things was that glad and happy it made my heart ache to see them getting +fooled and lied to so, but I didn't see no safe way for me to chip in and +change the general tune. + +Well, blamed if the king didn't bill the house and the niggers and all +the property for auction straight off--sale two days after the funeral; +but anybody could buy private beforehand if they wanted to. + +So the next day after the funeral, along about noon-time, the girls' joy +got the first jolt. A couple of nigger traders come along, and the king +sold them the niggers reasonable, for three-day drafts as they called it, +and away they went, the two sons up the river to Memphis, and their +mother down the river to Orleans. I thought them poor girls and them +niggers would break their hearts for grief; they cried around each other, +and took on so it most made me down sick to see it. The girls said they +hadn't ever dreamed of seeing the family separated or sold away from the +town. I can't ever get it out of my memory, the sight of them poor +miserable girls and niggers hanging around each other's necks and crying; +and I reckon I couldn't a stood it all, but would a had to bust out and +tell on our gang if I hadn't knowed the sale warn't no account and the +niggers would be back home in a week or two. + +The thing made a big stir in the town, too, and a good many come out +flatfooted and said it was scandalous to separate the mother and the +children that way. It injured the frauds some; but the old fool he +bulled right along, spite of all the duke could say or do, and I tell you +the duke was powerful uneasy. + +Next day was auction day. About broad day in the morning the king and +the duke come up in the garret and woke me up, and I see by their look +that there was trouble. The king says: + +"Was you in my room night before last?" + +"No, your majesty"--which was the way I always called him when nobody but +our gang warn't around. + +"Was you in there yisterday er last night?" + +"No, your majesty." + +"Honor bright, now--no lies." + +"Honor bright, your majesty, I'm telling you the truth. I hain't been a- +near your room since Miss Mary Jane took you and the duke and showed it +to you." + +The duke says: + +"Have you seen anybody else go in there?" + +"No, your grace, not as I remember, I believe." + +"Stop and think." + +I studied awhile and see my chance; then I says: + +"Well, I see the niggers go in there several times." + +Both of them gave a little jump, and looked like they hadn't ever +expected it, and then like they HAD. Then the duke says: + +"What, all of them?" + +"No--leastways, not all at once--that is, I don't think I ever see them +all come OUT at once but just one time." + +"Hello! When was that?" + +"It was the day we had the funeral. In the morning. It warn't early, +because I overslept. I was just starting down the ladder, and I see +them." + +"Well, go on, GO on! What did they do? How'd they act?" + +"They didn't do nothing. And they didn't act anyway much, as fur as I +see. They tiptoed away; so I seen, easy enough, that they'd shoved in +there to do up your majesty's room, or something, s'posing you was up; +and found you WARN'T up, and so they was hoping to slide out of the way +of trouble without waking you up, if they hadn't already waked you up." + +"Great guns, THIS is a go!" says the king; and both of them looked pretty +sick and tolerable silly. They stood there a-thinking and scratching +their heads a minute, and the duke he bust into a kind of a little raspy +chuckle, and says: + +"It does beat all how neat the niggers played their hand. They let on to +be SORRY they was going out of this region! And I believed they WAS +sorry, and so did you, and so did everybody. Don't ever tell ME any more +that a nigger ain't got any histrionic talent. Why, the way they played +that thing it would fool ANYBODY. In my opinion, there's a fortune in +'em. If I had capital and a theater, I wouldn't want a better lay-out +than that--and here we've gone and sold 'em for a song. Yes, and ain't +privileged to sing the song yet. Say, where IS that song--that draft?" + +"In the bank for to be collected. Where WOULD it be?" + +"Well, THAT'S all right then, thank goodness." + +Says I, kind of timid-like: + +"Is something gone wrong?" + +The king whirls on me and rips out: + +"None o' your business! You keep your head shet, and mind y'r own +affairs--if you got any. Long as you're in this town don't you forgit +THAT--you hear?" Then he says to the duke, "We got to jest swaller it +and say noth'n': mum's the word for US." + +As they was starting down the ladder the duke he chuckles again, and +says: + +"Quick sales AND small profits! It's a good business--yes." + +The king snarls around on him and says: + +"I was trying to do for the best in sellin' 'em out so quick. If the +profits has turned out to be none, lackin' considable, and none to carry, +is it my fault any more'n it's yourn?" + +"Well, THEY'D be in this house yet and we WOULDN'T if I could a got my +advice listened to." + +The king sassed back as much as was safe for him, and then swapped around +and lit into ME again. He give me down the banks for not coming and +TELLING him I see the niggers come out of his room acting that way--said +any fool would a KNOWED something was up. And then waltzed in and cussed +HIMSELF awhile, and said it all come of him not laying late and taking +his natural rest that morning, and he'd be blamed if he'd ever do it +again. So they went off a-jawing; and I felt dreadful glad I'd worked it +all off on to the niggers, and yet hadn't done the niggers no harm by it. + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +BY and by it was getting-up time. So I come down the ladder and started +for down-stairs; but as I come to the girls' room the door was open, and +I see Mary Jane setting by her old hair trunk, which was open and she'd +been packing things in it--getting ready to go to England. But she had +stopped now with a folded gown in her lap, and had her face in her hands, +crying. I felt awful bad to see it; of course anybody would. I went in +there and says: + +"Miss Mary Jane, you can't a-bear to see people in trouble, and I can't-- +most always. Tell me about it." + +So she done it. And it was the niggers--I just expected it. She said +the beautiful trip to England was most about spoiled for her; she didn't +know HOW she was ever going to be happy there, knowing the mother and the +children warn't ever going to see each other no more--and then busted out +bitterer than ever, and flung up her hands, and says: + +"Oh, dear, dear, to think they ain't EVER going to see each other any +more!" + +"But they WILL--and inside of two weeks--and I KNOW it!" says I. + +Laws, it was out before I could think! And before I could budge she +throws her arms around my neck and told me to say it AGAIN, say it AGAIN, +say it AGAIN! + +I see I had spoke too sudden and said too much, and was in a close place. +I asked her to let me think a minute; and she set there, very impatient +and excited and handsome, but looking kind of happy and eased-up, like a +person that's had a tooth pulled out. So I went to studying it out. I +says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is +in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, though I ain't had no +experience, and can't say for certain; but it looks so to me, anyway; and +yet here's a case where I'm blest if it don't look to me like the truth +is better and actuly SAFER than a lie. I must lay it by in my mind, and +think it over some time or other, it's so kind of strange and unregular. +I never see nothing like it. Well, I says to myself at last, I'm a-going +to chance it; I'll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem +most like setting down on a kag of powder and touching it off just to see +where you'll go to. Then I says: + +"Miss Mary Jane, is there any place out of town a little ways where you +could go and stay three or four days?" + +"Yes; Mr. Lothrop's. Why?" + +"Never mind why yet. If I'll tell you how I know the niggers will see +each other again inside of two weeks--here in this house--and PROVE how I +know it--will you go to Mr. Lothrop's and stay four days?" + +"Four days!" she says; "I'll stay a year!" + +"All right," I says, "I don't want nothing more out of YOU than just your +word--I druther have it than another man's kiss-the-Bible." She smiled +and reddened up very sweet, and I says, "If you don't mind it, I'll shut +the door--and bolt it." + +Then I come back and set down again, and says: + +"Don't you holler. Just set still and take it like a man. I got to tell +the truth, and you want to brace up, Miss Mary, because it's a bad kind, +and going to be hard to take, but there ain't no help for it. These +uncles of yourn ain't no uncles at all; they're a couple of frauds-- +regular dead-beats. There, now we're over the worst of it, you can stand +the rest middling easy." + +It jolted her up like everything, of course; but I was over the shoal +water now, so I went right along, her eyes a-blazing higher and higher +all the time, and told her every blame thing, from where we first struck +that young fool going up to the steamboat, clear through to where she +flung herself on to the king's breast at the front door and he kissed her +sixteen or seventeen times--and then up she jumps, with her face afire +like sunset, and says: + +"The brute! Come, don't waste a minute--not a SECOND--we'll have them +tarred and feathered, and flung in the river!" + +Says I: + +"Cert'nly. But do you mean BEFORE you go to Mr. Lothrop's, or--" + +"Oh," she says, "what am I THINKING about!" she says, and set right down +again. "Don't mind what I said--please don't--you WON'T, now, WILL you?" +Laying her silky hand on mine in that kind of a way that I said I would +die first. "I never thought, I was so stirred up," she says; "now go on, +and I won't do so any more. You tell me what to do, and whatever you say +I'll do it." + +"Well," I says, "it's a rough gang, them two frauds, and I'm fixed so I +got to travel with them a while longer, whether I want to or not--I +druther not tell you why; and if you was to blow on them this town would +get me out of their claws, and I'd be all right; but there'd be another +person that you don't know about who'd be in big trouble. Well, we got +to save HIM, hain't we? Of course. Well, then, we won't blow on them." + +Saying them words put a good idea in my head. I see how maybe I could +get me and Jim rid of the frauds; get them jailed here, and then leave. +But I didn't want to run the raft in the daytime without anybody aboard +to answer questions but me; so I didn't want the plan to begin working +till pretty late to-night. I says: + +"Miss Mary Jane, I'll tell you what we'll do, and you won't have to stay +at Mr. Lothrop's so long, nuther. How fur is it?" + +"A little short of four miles--right out in the country, back here." + +"Well, that 'll answer. Now you go along out there, and lay low till +nine or half-past to-night, and then get them to fetch you home again-- +tell them you've thought of something. If you get here before eleven put +a candle in this window, and if I don't turn up wait TILL eleven, and +THEN if I don't turn up it means I'm gone, and out of the way, and safe. +Then you come out and spread the news around, and get these beats +jailed." + +"Good," she says, "I'll do it." + +"And if it just happens so that I don't get away, but get took up along +with them, you must up and say I told you the whole thing beforehand, and +you must stand by me all you can." + +"Stand by you! indeed I will. They sha'n't touch a hair of your head!" +she says, and I see her nostrils spread and her eyes snap when she said +it, too. + +"If I get away I sha'n't be here," I says, "to prove these rapscallions +ain't your uncles, and I couldn't do it if I WAS here. I could swear +they was beats and bummers, that's all, though that's worth something. +Well, there's others can do that better than what I can, and they're +people that ain't going to be doubted as quick as I'd be. I'll tell you +how to find them. Gimme a pencil and a piece of paper. There--'Royal +Nonesuch, Bricksville.' Put it away, and don't lose it. When the court +wants to find out something about these two, let them send up to +Bricksville and say they've got the men that played the Royal Nonesuch, +and ask for some witnesses--why, you'll have that entire town down here +before you can hardly wink, Miss Mary. And they'll come a-biling, too." + +I judged we had got everything fixed about right now. So I says: + +"Just let the auction go right along, and don't worry. Nobody don't have +to pay for the things they buy till a whole day after the auction on +accounts of the short notice, and they ain't going out of this till they +get that money; and the way we've fixed it the sale ain't going to count, +and they ain't going to get no money. It's just like the way it was with +the niggers--it warn't no sale, and the niggers will be back before +long. Why, they can't collect the money for the NIGGERS yet--they're in +the worst kind of a fix, Miss Mary." + +"Well," she says, "I'll run down to breakfast now, and then I'll start +straight for Mr. Lothrop's." + +"'Deed, THAT ain't the ticket, Miss Mary Jane," I says, "by no manner of +means; go BEFORE breakfast." + +"Why?" + +"What did you reckon I wanted you to go at all for, Miss Mary?" + +"Well, I never thought--and come to think, I don't know. What was it?" + +"Why, it's because you ain't one of these leather-face people. I don't +want no better book than what your face is. A body can set down and read +it off like coarse print. Do you reckon you can go and face your uncles +when they come to kiss you good-morning, and never--" + +"There, there, don't! Yes, I'll go before breakfast--I'll be glad to. +And leave my sisters with them?" + +"Yes; never mind about them. They've got to stand it yet a while. They +might suspicion something if all of you was to go. I don't want you to +see them, nor your sisters, nor nobody in this town; if a neighbor was to +ask how is your uncles this morning your face would tell something. No, +you go right along, Miss Mary Jane, and I'll fix it with all of them. +I'll tell Miss Susan to give your love to your uncles and say you've went +away for a few hours for to get a little rest and change, or to see a +friend, and you'll be back to-night or early in the morning." + +"Gone to see a friend is all right, but I won't have my love given to +them." + +"Well, then, it sha'n't be." It was well enough to tell HER so--no harm +in it. It was only a little thing to do, and no trouble; and it's the +little things that smooths people's roads the most, down here below; it +would make Mary Jane comfortable, and it wouldn't cost nothing. Then I +says: "There's one more thing--that bag of money." + +"Well, they've got that; and it makes me feel pretty silly to think HOW +they got it." + +"No, you're out, there. They hain't got it." + +"Why, who's got it?" + +"I wish I knowed, but I don't. I HAD it, because I stole it from them; +and I stole it to give to you; and I know where I hid it, but I'm afraid +it ain't there no more. I'm awful sorry, Miss Mary Jane, I'm just as +sorry as I can be; but I done the best I could; I did honest. I come +nigh getting caught, and I had to shove it into the first place I come +to, and run--and it warn't a good place." + +"Oh, stop blaming yourself--it's too bad to do it, and I won't allow it-- +you couldn't help it; it wasn't your fault. Where did you hide it?" + +I didn't want to set her to thinking about her troubles again; and I +couldn't seem to get my mouth to tell her what would make her see that +corpse laying in the coffin with that bag of money on his stomach. So +for a minute I didn't say nothing; then I says: + +"I'd ruther not TELL you where I put it, Miss Mary Jane, if you don't +mind letting me off; but I'll write it for you on a piece of paper, and +you can read it along the road to Mr. Lothrop's, if you want to. Do you +reckon that 'll do?" + +"Oh, yes." + +So I wrote: "I put it in the coffin. It was in there when you was +crying there, away in the night. I was behind the door, and I was mighty +sorry for you, Miss Mary Jane." + +It made my eyes water a little to remember her crying there all by +herself in the night, and them devils laying there right under her own +roof, shaming her and robbing her; and when I folded it up and give it to +her I see the water come into her eyes, too; and she shook me by the +hand, hard, and says: + +"GOOD-bye. I'm going to do everything just as you've told me; and if I +don't ever see you again, I sha'n't ever forget you and I'll think of +you a many and a many a time, and I'll PRAY for you, too!"--and she was +gone. + +Pray for me! I reckoned if she knowed me she'd take a job that was more +nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the same--she was just that +kind. She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notion--there +warn't no back-down to her, I judge. You may say what you want to, but +in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in my +opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it ain't +no flattery. And when it comes to beauty--and goodness, too--she lays +over them all. I hain't ever seen her since that time that I see her go +out of that door; no, I hain't ever seen her since, but I reckon I've +thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she +would pray for me; and if ever I'd a thought it would do any good for me +to pray for HER, blamed if I wouldn't a done it or bust. + +Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon; because nobody see +her go. When I struck Susan and the hare-lip, I says: + +"What's the name of them people over on t'other side of the river that +you all goes to see sometimes?" + +They says: + +"There's several; but it's the Proctors, mainly." + +"That's the name," I says; "I most forgot it. Well, Miss Mary Jane she +told me to tell you she's gone over there in a dreadful hurry--one of +them's sick." + +"Which one?" + +"I don't know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it's--" + +"Sakes alive, I hope it ain't HANNER?" + +"I'm sorry to say it," I says, "but Hanner's the very one." + +"My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?" + +"It ain't no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary Jane +said, and they don't think she'll last many hours." + +"Only think of that, now! What's the matter with her?" + +I couldn't think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says: + +"Mumps." + +"Mumps your granny! They don't set up with people that's got the mumps." + +"They don't, don't they? You better bet they do with THESE mumps. These +mumps is different. It's a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said." + +"How's it a new kind?" + +"Because it's mixed up with other things." + +"What other things?" + +"Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and +yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don't know what all." + +"My land! And they call it the MUMPS?" + +"That's what Miss Mary Jane said." + +"Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?" + +"Why, because it IS the mumps. That's what it starts with." + +"Well, ther' ain't no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take +pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains +out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull +up and say, 'Why, he stumped his TOE.' Would ther' be any sense in that? +NO. And ther' ain't no sense in THIS, nuther. Is it ketching?" + +"Is it KETCHING? Why, how you talk. Is a HARROW catching--in the dark? +If you don't hitch on to one tooth, you're bound to on another, ain't +you? And you can't get away with that tooth without fetching the whole +harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a harrow, +as you may say--and it ain't no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you come to +get it hitched on good." + +"Well, it's awful, I think," says the hare-lip. "I'll go to Uncle Harvey +and--" + +"Oh, yes," I says, "I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn't lose no +time." + +"Well, why wouldn't you?" + +"Just look at it a minute, and maybe you can see. Hain't your uncles +obleegd to get along home to England as fast as they can? And do you +reckon they'd be mean enough to go off and leave you to go all that +journey by yourselves? YOU know they'll wait for you. So fur, so good. +Your uncle Harvey's a preacher, ain't he? Very well, then; is a PREACHER +going to deceive a steamboat clerk? is he going to deceive a SHIP CLERK? +--so as to get them to let Miss Mary Jane go aboard? Now YOU know he +ain't. What WILL he do, then? Why, he'll say, 'It's a great pity, but +my church matters has got to get along the best way they can; for my +niece has been exposed to the dreadful pluribus-unum mumps, and so it's +my bounden duty to set down here and wait the three months it takes to +show on her if she's got it.' But never mind, if you think it's best to +tell your uncle Harvey--" + +"Shucks, and stay fooling around here when we could all be having good +times in England whilst we was waiting to find out whether Mary Jane's +got it or not? Why, you talk like a muggins." + +"Well, anyway, maybe you'd better tell some of the neighbors." + +"Listen at that, now. You do beat all for natural stupidness. Can't you +SEE that THEY'D go and tell? Ther' ain't no way but just to not tell +anybody at ALL." + +"Well, maybe you're right--yes, I judge you ARE right." + +"But I reckon we ought to tell Uncle Harvey she's gone out a while, +anyway, so he won't be uneasy about her?" + +"Yes, Miss Mary Jane she wanted you to do that. She says, 'Tell them to +give Uncle Harvey and William my love and a kiss, and say I've run over +the river to see Mr.'--Mr.--what IS the name of that rich family your +uncle Peter used to think so much of?--I mean the one that--" + +"Why, you must mean the Apthorps, ain't it?" + +"Of course; bother them kind of names, a body can't ever seem to remember +them, half the time, somehow. Yes, she said, say she has run over for to +ask the Apthorps to be sure and come to the auction and buy this house, +because she allowed her uncle Peter would ruther they had it than anybody +else; and she's going to stick to them till they say they'll come, and +then, if she ain't too tired, she's coming home; and if she is, she'll be +home in the morning anyway. She said, don't say nothing about the +Proctors, but only about the Apthorps--which 'll be perfectly true, +because she is going there to speak about their buying the house; I know +it, because she told me so herself." + +"All right," they said, and cleared out to lay for their uncles, and give +them the love and the kisses, and tell them the message. + +Everything was all right now. The girls wouldn't say nothing because +they wanted to go to England; and the king and the duke would ruther Mary +Jane was off working for the auction than around in reach of Doctor +Robinson. I felt very good; I judged I had done it pretty neat--I +reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn't a done it no neater himself. Of course he +would a throwed more style into it, but I can't do that very handy, not +being brung up to it. + +Well, they held the auction in the public square, along towards the end +of the afternoon, and it strung along, and strung along, and the old man +he was on hand and looking his level pisonest, up there longside of the +auctioneer, and chipping in a little Scripture now and then, or a little +goody-goody saying of some kind, and the duke he was around goo-gooing +for sympathy all he knowed how, and just spreading himself generly. + +But by and by the thing dragged through, and everything was sold-- +everything but a little old trifling lot in the graveyard. So they'd got +to work that off--I never see such a girafft as the king was for wanting +to swallow EVERYTHING. Well, whilst they was at it a steamboat landed, +and in about two minutes up comes a crowd a-whooping and yelling and +laughing and carrying on, and singing out: + +"HERE'S your opposition line! here's your two sets o' heirs to old Peter +Wilks--and you pays your money and you takes your choice!" + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THEY was fetching a very nice-looking old gentleman along, and a nice- +looking younger one, with his right arm in a sling. And, my souls, how +the people yelled and laughed, and kept it up. But I didn't see no joke +about it, and I judged it would strain the duke and the king some to see +any. I reckoned they'd turn pale. But no, nary a pale did THEY turn. +The duke he never let on he suspicioned what was up, but just went a goo- +gooing around, happy and satisfied, like a jug that's googling out +buttermilk; and as for the king, he just gazed and gazed down sorrowful +on them new-comers like it give him the stomach-ache in his very heart to +think there could be such frauds and rascals in the world. Oh, he done +it admirable. Lots of the principal people gethered around the king, to +let him see they was on his side. That old gentleman that had just come +looked all puzzled to death. Pretty soon he begun to speak, and I see +straight off he pronounced LIKE an Englishman--not the king's way, though +the king's WAS pretty good for an imitation. I can't give the old gent's +words, nor I can't imitate him; but he turned around to the crowd, and +says, about like this: + +"This is a surprise to me which I wasn't looking for; and I'll +acknowledge, candid and frank, I ain't very well fixed to meet it and +answer it; for my brother and me has had misfortunes; he's broke his arm, +and our baggage got put off at a town above here last night in the night +by a mistake. I am Peter Wilks' brother Harvey, and this is his brother +William, which can't hear nor speak--and can't even make signs to amount +to much, now't he's only got one hand to work them with. We are who we +say we are; and in a day or two, when I get the baggage, I can prove it. +But up till then I won't say nothing more, but go to the hotel and wait." + +So him and the new dummy started off; and the king he laughs, and +blethers out: + +"Broke his arm--VERY likely, AIN'T it?--and very convenient, too, for a +fraud that's got to make signs, and ain't learnt how. Lost their +baggage! That's MIGHTY good!--and mighty ingenious--under the +CIRCUMSTANCES!" + +So he laughed again; and so did everybody else, except three or four, or +maybe half a dozen. One of these was that doctor; another one was a +sharp-looking gentleman, with a carpet-bag of the old-fashioned kind made +out of carpet-stuff, that had just come off of the steamboat and was +talking to him in a low voice, and glancing towards the king now and then +and nodding their heads--it was Levi Bell, the lawyer that was gone up to +Louisville; and another one was a big rough husky that come along and +listened to all the old gentleman said, and was listening to the king +now. And when the king got done this husky up and says: + +"Say, looky here; if you are Harvey Wilks, when'd you come to this town?" + +"The day before the funeral, friend," says the king. + +"But what time o' day?" + +"In the evenin'--'bout an hour er two before sundown." + +"HOW'D you come?" + +"I come down on the Susan Powell from Cincinnati." + +"Well, then, how'd you come to be up at the Pint in the MORNIN'--in a +canoe?" + +"I warn't up at the Pint in the mornin'." + +"It's a lie." + +Several of them jumped for him and begged him not to talk that way to an +old man and a preacher. + +"Preacher be hanged, he's a fraud and a liar. He was up at the Pint that +mornin'. I live up there, don't I? Well, I was up there, and he was up +there. I see him there. He come in a canoe, along with Tim Collins and +a boy." + +The doctor he up and says: + +"Would you know the boy again if you was to see him, Hines?" + +"I reckon I would, but I don't know. Why, yonder he is, now. I know him +perfectly easy." + +It was me he pointed at. The doctor says: + +"Neighbors, I don't know whether the new couple is frauds or not; but if +THESE two ain't frauds, I am an idiot, that's all. I think it's our duty +to see that they don't get away from here till we've looked into this +thing. Come along, Hines; come along, the rest of you. We'll take these +fellows to the tavern and affront them with t'other couple, and I reckon +we'll find out SOMETHING before we get through." + +It was nuts for the crowd, though maybe not for the king's friends; so we +all started. It was about sundown. The doctor he led me along by the +hand, and was plenty kind enough, but he never let go my hand. + +We all got in a big room in the hotel, and lit up some candles, and +fetched in the new couple. First, the doctor says: + +"I don't wish to be too hard on these two men, but I think they're +frauds, and they may have complices that we don't know nothing about. If +they have, won't the complices get away with that bag of gold Peter Wilks +left? It ain't unlikely. If these men ain't frauds, they won't object +to sending for that money and letting us keep it till they prove they're +all right--ain't that so?" + +Everybody agreed to that. So I judged they had our gang in a pretty +tight place right at the outstart. But the king he only looked +sorrowful, and says: + +"Gentlemen, I wish the money was there, for I ain't got no disposition to +throw anything in the way of a fair, open, out-and-out investigation o' +this misable business; but, alas, the money ain't there; you k'n send and +see, if you want to." + +"Where is it, then?" + +"Well, when my niece give it to me to keep for her I took and hid it +inside o' the straw tick o' my bed, not wishin' to bank it for the few +days we'd be here, and considerin' the bed a safe place, we not bein' +used to niggers, and suppos'n' 'em honest, like servants in England. The +niggers stole it the very next mornin' after I had went down stairs; and +when I sold 'em I hadn't missed the money yit, so they got clean away +with it. My servant here k'n tell you 'bout it, gentlemen." + +The doctor and several said "Shucks!" and I see nobody didn't altogether +believe him. One man asked me if I see the niggers steal it. I said no, +but I see them sneaking out of the room and hustling away, and I never +thought nothing, only I reckoned they was afraid they had waked up my +master and was trying to get away before he made trouble with them. That +was all they asked me. Then the doctor whirls on me and says: + +"Are YOU English, too?" + +I says yes; and him and some others laughed, and said, "Stuff!" + +Well, then they sailed in on the general investigation, and there we had +it, up and down, hour in, hour out, and nobody never said a word about +supper, nor ever seemed to think about it--and so they kept it up, and +kept it up; and it WAS the worst mixed-up thing you ever see. They made +the king tell his yarn, and they made the old gentleman tell his'n; and +anybody but a lot of prejudiced chuckleheads would a SEEN that the old +gentleman was spinning truth and t'other one lies. And by and by they +had me up to tell what I knowed. The king he give me a left-handed look +out of the corner of his eye, and so I knowed enough to talk on the right +side. I begun to tell about Sheffield, and how we lived there, and all +about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didn't get pretty fur till +the doctor begun to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says: + +"Set down, my boy; I wouldn't strain myself if I was you. I reckon you +ain't used to lying, it don't seem to come handy; what you want is +practice. You do it pretty awkward." + +I didn't care nothing for the compliment, but I was glad to be let off, +anyway. + +The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says: + +"If you'd been in town at first, Levi Bell--" The king broke in and +reached out his hand, and says: + +"Why, is this my poor dead brother's old friend that he's wrote so often +about?" + +The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased, +and they talked right along awhile, and then got to one side and talked +low; and at last the lawyer speaks up and says: + +"That 'll fix it. I'll take the order and send it, along with your +brother's, and then they'll know it's all right." + +So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he set down and twisted +his head to one side, and chawed his tongue, and scrawled off something; +and then they give the pen to the duke--and then for the first time the +duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote. So then the lawyer +turns to the new old gentleman and says: + +"You and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names." + +The old gentleman wrote, but nobody couldn't read it. The lawyer looked +powerful astonished, and says: + +"Well, it beats ME"--and snaked a lot of old letters out of his pocket, +and examined them, and then examined the old man's writing, and then THEM +again; and then says: "These old letters is from Harvey Wilks; and +here's THESE two handwritings, and anybody can see they didn't write +them" (the king and the duke looked sold and foolish, I tell you, to see +how the lawyer had took them in), "and here's THIS old gentleman's hand +writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, HE didn't write them--fact +is, the scratches he makes ain't properly WRITING at all. Now, here's +some letters from--" + +The new old gentleman says: + +"If you please, let me explain. Nobody can read my hand but my brother +there--so he copies for me. It's HIS hand you've got there, not mine." + +"WELL!" says the lawyer, "this IS a state of things. I've got some of +William's letters, too; so if you'll get him to write a line or so we can +com--" + +"He CAN'T write with his left hand," says the old gentleman. "If he +could use his right hand, you would see that he wrote his own letters and +mine too. Look at both, please--they're by the same hand." + +The lawyer done it, and says: + +"I believe it's so--and if it ain't so, there's a heap stronger +resemblance than I'd noticed before, anyway. Well, well, well! I +thought we was right on the track of a slution, but it's gone to grass, +partly. But anyway, one thing is proved--THESE two ain't either of 'em +Wilkses"--and he wagged his head towards the king and the duke. + +Well, what do you think? That muleheaded old fool wouldn't give in THEN! +Indeed he wouldn't. Said it warn't no fair test. Said his brother +William was the cussedest joker in the world, and hadn't tried to write-- +HE see William was going to play one of his jokes the minute he put the +pen to paper. And so he warmed up and went warbling right along till he +was actuly beginning to believe what he was saying HIMSELF; but pretty +soon the new gentleman broke in, and says: + +"I've thought of something. Is there anybody here that helped to lay out +my br--helped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?" + +"Yes," says somebody, "me and Ab Turner done it. We're both here." + +Then the old man turns towards the king, and says: + +"Peraps this gentleman can tell me what was tattooed on his breast?" + +Blamed if the king didn't have to brace up mighty quick, or he'd a +squshed down like a bluff bank that the river has cut under, it took him +so sudden; and, mind you, it was a thing that was calculated to make most +ANYBODY sqush to get fetched such a solid one as that without any notice, +because how was HE going to know what was tattooed on the man? He +whitened a little; he couldn't help it; and it was mighty still in there, +and everybody bending a little forwards and gazing at him. Says I to +myself, NOW he'll throw up the sponge--there ain't no more use. Well, +did he? A body can't hardly believe it, but he didn't. I reckon he +thought he'd keep the thing up till he tired them people out, so they'd +thin out, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. Anyway, +he set there, and pretty soon he begun to smile, and says: + +"Mf! It's a VERY tough question, AIN'T it! YES, sir, I k'n tell you +what's tattooed on his breast. It's jest a small, thin, blue arrow-- +that's what it is; and if you don't look clost, you can't see it. NOW +what do you say--hey?" + +Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out +cheek. + +The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his +eye lights up like he judged he'd got the king THIS time, and says: + +"There--you've heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter +Wilks' breast?" + +Both of them spoke up and says: + +"We didn't see no such mark." + +"Good!" says the old gentleman. "Now, what you DID see on his breast was +a small dim P, and a B (which is an initial he dropped when he was +young), and a W, with dashes between them, so: P--B--W"--and he marked +them that way on a piece of paper. "Come, ain't that what you saw?" + +Both of them spoke up again, and says: + +"No, we DIDN'T. We never seen any marks at all." + +Well, everybody WAS in a state of mind now, and they sings out: + +"The whole BILIN' of 'm 's frauds! Le's duck 'em! le's drown 'em! le's +ride 'em on a rail!" and everybody was whooping at once, and there was a +rattling powwow. But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, and +says: + +"Gentlemen--gentleMEN! Hear me just a word--just a SINGLE word--if you +PLEASE! There's one way yet--let's go and dig up the corpse and look." + +That took them. + +"Hooray!" they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer +and the doctor sung out: + +"Hold on, hold on! Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch THEM +along, too!" + +"We'll do it!" they all shouted; "and if we don't find them marks we'll +lynch the whole gang!" + +I WAS scared, now, I tell you. But there warn't no getting away, you +know. They gripped us all, and marched us right along, straight for the +graveyard, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole town +at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the +evening. + +As we went by our house I wished I hadn't sent Mary Jane out of town; +because now if I could tip her the wink she'd light out and save me, and +blow on our dead-beats. + +Well, we swarmed along down the river road, just carrying on like +wildcats; and to make it more scary the sky was darking up, and the +lightning beginning to wink and flitter, and the wind to shiver amongst +the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and most dangersome I ever +was in; and I was kinder stunned; everything was going so different from +what I had allowed for; stead of being fixed so I could take my own time +if I wanted to, and see all the fun, and have Mary Jane at my back to +save me and set me free when the close-fit come, here was nothing in the +world betwixt me and sudden death but just them tattoo-marks. If they +didn't find them-- + +I couldn't bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn't think +about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful +time to give the crowd the slip; but that big husky had me by the wrist-- +Hines--and a body might as well try to give Goliar the slip. He dragged +me right along, he was so excited, and I had to run to keep up. + +When they got there they swarmed into the graveyard and washed over it +like an overflow. And when they got to the grave they found they had +about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadn't +thought to fetch a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the +flicker of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a +mile off, to borrow one. + +So they dug and dug like everything; and it got awful dark, and the rain +started, and the wind swished and swushed along, and the lightning come +brisker and brisker, and the thunder boomed; but them people never took +no notice of it, they was so full of this business; and one minute you +could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the shovelfuls +of dirt sailing up out of the grave, and the next second the dark wiped +it all out, and you couldn't see nothing at all. + +At last they got out the coffin and begun to unscrew the lid, and then +such another crowding and shouldering and shoving as there was, to +scrouge in and get a sight, you never see; and in the dark, that way, it +was awful. Hines he hurt my wrist dreadful pulling and tugging so, and I +reckon he clean forgot I was in the world, he was so excited and panting. + +All of a sudden the lightning let go a perfect sluice of white glare, and +somebody sings out: + +"By the living jingo, here's the bag of gold on his breast!" + +Hines let out a whoop, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and give +a big surge to bust his way in and get a look, and the way I lit out and +shinned for the road in the dark there ain't nobody can tell. + +I had the road all to myself, and I fairly flew--leastways, I had it all +to myself except the solid dark, and the now-and-then glares, and the +buzzing of the rain, and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of +the thunder; and sure as you are born I did clip it along! + +When I struck the town I see there warn't nobody out in the storm, so I +never hunted for no back streets, but humped it straight through the main +one; and when I begun to get towards our house I aimed my eye and set it. +No light there; the house all dark--which made me feel sorry and +disappointed, I didn't know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by, +FLASH comes the light in Mary Jane's window! and my heart swelled up +sudden, like to bust; and the same second the house and all was behind me +in the dark, and wasn't ever going to be before me no more in this world. +She WAS the best girl I ever see, and had the most sand. + +The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the +towhead, I begun to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first time +the lightning showed me one that wasn't chained I snatched it and shoved. +It was a canoe, and warn't fastened with nothing but a rope. The towhead +was a rattling big distance off, away out there in the middle of the +river, but I didn't lose no time; and when I struck the raft at last I +was so fagged I would a just laid down to blow and gasp if I could +afforded it. But I didn't. As I sprung aboard I sung out: + +"Out with you, Jim, and set her loose! Glory be to goodness, we're shut +of them!" + +Jim lit out, and was a-coming for me with both arms spread, he was so +full of joy; but when I glimpsed him in the lightning my heart shot up in +my mouth and I went overboard backwards; for I forgot he was old King +Lear and a drownded A-rab all in one, and it most scared the livers and +lights out of me. But Jim fished me out, and was going to hug me and +bless me, and so on, he was so glad I was back and we was shut of the +king and the duke, but I says: + +"Not now; have it for breakfast, have it for breakfast! Cut loose and +let her slide!" + +So in two seconds away we went a-sliding down the river, and it DID seem +so good to be free again and all by ourselves on the big river, and +nobody to bother us. I had to skip around a bit, and jump up and crack +my heels a few times--I couldn't help it; but about the third crack I +noticed a sound that I knowed mighty well, and held my breath and +listened and waited; and sure enough, when the next flash busted out over +the water, here they come!--and just a-laying to their oars and making +their skiff hum! It was the king and the duke. + +So I wilted right down on to the planks then, and give up; and it was all +I could do to keep from crying. + +CHAPTER XXX. + +WHEN they got aboard the king went for me, and shook me by the collar, +and says: + +"Tryin' to give us the slip, was ye, you pup! Tired of our company, +hey?" + +I says: + +"No, your majesty, we warn't--PLEASE don't, your majesty!" + +"Quick, then, and tell us what WAS your idea, or I'll shake the insides +out o' you!" + +"Honest, I'll tell you everything just as it happened, your majesty. The +man that had a-holt of me was very good to me, and kept saying he had a +boy about as big as me that died last year, and he was sorry to see a boy +in such a dangerous fix; and when they was all took by surprise by +finding the gold, and made a rush for the coffin, he lets go of me and +whispers, 'Heel it now, or they'll hang ye, sure!' and I lit out. It +didn't seem no good for ME to stay--I couldn't do nothing, and I didn't +want to be hung if I could get away. So I never stopped running till I +found the canoe; and when I got here I told Jim to hurry, or they'd catch +me and hang me yet, and said I was afeard you and the duke wasn't alive +now, and I was awful sorry, and so was Jim, and was awful glad when we +see you coming; you may ask Jim if I didn't." + +Jim said it was so; and the king told him to shut up, and said, "Oh, yes, +it's MIGHTY likely!" and shook me up again, and said he reckoned he'd +drownd me. But the duke says: + +"Leggo the boy, you old idiot! Would YOU a done any different? Did you +inquire around for HIM when you got loose? I don't remember it." + +So the king let go of me, and begun to cuss that town and everybody in +it. But the duke says: + +"You better a blame' sight give YOURSELF a good cussing, for you're the +one that's entitled to it most. You hain't done a thing from the start +that had any sense in it, except coming out so cool and cheeky with that +imaginary blue-arrow mark. That WAS bright--it was right down bully; and +it was the thing that saved us. For if it hadn't been for that they'd a +jailed us till them Englishmen's baggage come--and then--the +penitentiary, you bet! But that trick took 'em to the graveyard, and the +gold done us a still bigger kindness; for if the excited fools hadn't let +go all holts and made that rush to get a look we'd a slept in our cravats +to-night--cravats warranted to WEAR, too--longer than WE'D need 'em." + +They was still a minute--thinking; then the king says, kind of absent- +minded like: + +"Mf! And we reckoned the NIGGERS stole it!" + +That made me squirm! + +"Yes," says the duke, kinder slow and deliberate and sarcastic, "WE did." + +After about a half a minute the king drawls out: + +"Leastways, I did." + +The duke says, the same way: + +"On the contrary, I did." + +The king kind of ruffles up, and says: + +"Looky here, Bilgewater, what'r you referrin' to?" + +The duke says, pretty brisk: + +"When it comes to that, maybe you'll let me ask, what was YOU referring +to?" + +"Shucks!" says the king, very sarcastic; "but I don't know--maybe you was +asleep, and didn't know what you was about." + +The duke bristles up now, and says: + +"Oh, let UP on this cussed nonsense; do you take me for a blame' fool? +Don't you reckon I know who hid that money in that coffin?" + +"YES, sir! I know you DO know, because you done it yourself!" + +"It's a lie!"--and the duke went for him. The king sings out: + +"Take y'r hands off!--leggo my throat!--I take it all back!" + +The duke says: + +"Well, you just own up, first, that you DID hide that money there, +intending to give me the slip one of these days, and come back and dig it +up, and have it all to yourself." + +"Wait jest a minute, duke--answer me this one question, honest and fair; +if you didn't put the money there, say it, and I'll b'lieve you, and take +back everything I said." + +"You old scoundrel, I didn't, and you know I didn't. There, now!" + +"Well, then, I b'lieve you. But answer me only jest this one more--now +DON'T git mad; didn't you have it in your mind to hook the money and hide +it?" + +The duke never said nothing for a little bit; then he says: + +"Well, I don't care if I DID, I didn't DO it, anyway. But you not only +had it in mind to do it, but you DONE it." + +"I wisht I never die if I done it, duke, and that's honest. I won't say +I warn't goin' to do it, because I WAS; but you--I mean somebody--got in +ahead o' me." + +"It's a lie! You done it, and you got to SAY you done it, or--" + +The king began to gurgle, and then he gasps out: + +"'Nough!--I OWN UP!" + +I was very glad to hear him say that; it made me feel much more easier +than what I was feeling before. So the duke took his hands off and says: + +"If you ever deny it again I'll drown you. It's WELL for you to set +there and blubber like a baby--it's fitten for you, after the way you've +acted. I never see such an old ostrich for wanting to gobble everything-- +and I a-trusting you all the time, like you was my own father. You ought +to been ashamed of yourself to stand by and hear it saddled on to a lot +of poor niggers, and you never say a word for 'em. It makes me feel +ridiculous to think I was soft enough to BELIEVE that rubbage. Cuss you, +I can see now why you was so anxious to make up the deffisit--you wanted +to get what money I'd got out of the Nonesuch and one thing or another, +and scoop it ALL!" + +The king says, timid, and still a-snuffling: + +"Why, duke, it was you that said make up the deffisit; it warn't me." + +"Dry up! I don't want to hear no more out of you!" says the duke. "And +NOW you see what you GOT by it. They've got all their own money back, +and all of OURN but a shekel or two BESIDES. G'long to bed, and don't +you deffersit ME no more deffersits, long 's YOU live!" + +So the king sneaked into the wigwam and took to his bottle for comfort, +and before long the duke tackled HIS bottle; and so in about a half an +hour they was as thick as thieves again, and the tighter they got the +lovinger they got, and went off a-snoring in each other's arms. They +both got powerful mellow, but I noticed the king didn't get mellow enough +to forget to remember to not deny about hiding the money-bag again. That +made me feel easy and satisfied. Of course when they got to snoring we +had a long gabble, and I told Jim everything. + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +WE dasn't stop again at any town for days and days; kept right along down +the river. We was down south in the warm weather now, and a mighty long +ways from home. We begun to come to trees with Spanish moss on them, +hanging down from the limbs like long, gray beards. It was the first I +ever see it growing, and it made the woods look solemn and dismal. So +now the frauds reckoned they was out of danger, and they begun to work +the villages again. + +First they done a lecture on temperance; but they didn't make enough for +them both to get drunk on. Then in another village they started a +dancing-school; but they didn't know no more how to dance than a kangaroo +does; so the first prance they made the general public jumped in and +pranced them out of town. Another time they tried to go at yellocution; +but they didn't yellocute long till the audience got up and give them a +solid good cussing, and made them skip out. They tackled missionarying, +and mesmerizing, and doctoring, and telling fortunes, and a little of +everything; but they couldn't seem to have no luck. So at last they got +just about dead broke, and laid around the raft as she floated along, +thinking and thinking, and never saying nothing, by the half a day at a +time, and dreadful blue and desperate. + +And at last they took a change and begun to lay their heads together in +the wigwam and talk low and confidential two or three hours at a time. +Jim and me got uneasy. We didn't like the look of it. We judged they +was studying up some kind of worse deviltry than ever. We turned it over +and over, and at last we made up our minds they was going to break into +somebody's house or store, or was going into the counterfeit-money +business, or something. So then we was pretty scared, and made up an +agreement that we wouldn't have nothing in the world to do with such +actions, and if we ever got the least show we would give them the cold +shake and clear out and leave them behind. Well, early one morning we hid +the raft in a good, safe place about two mile below a little bit of a +shabby village named Pikesville, and the king he went ashore and told us +all to stay hid whilst he went up to town and smelt around to see if +anybody had got any wind of the Royal Nonesuch there yet. ("House to rob, +you MEAN," says I to myself; "and when you get through robbing it you'll +come back here and wonder what has become of me and Jim and the raft--and +you'll have to take it out in wondering.") And he said if he warn't back +by midday the duke and me would know it was all right, and we was to come +along. + +So we stayed where we was. The duke he fretted and sweated around, and +was in a mighty sour way. He scolded us for everything, and we couldn't +seem to do nothing right; he found fault with every little thing. +Something was a-brewing, sure. I was good and glad when midday come and +no king; we could have a change, anyway--and maybe a chance for THE +chance on top of it. So me and the duke went up to the village, and +hunted around there for the king, and by and by we found him in the back +room of a little low doggery, very tight, and a lot of loafers +bullyragging him for sport, and he a-cussing and a-threatening with all +his might, and so tight he couldn't walk, and couldn't do nothing to +them. The duke he begun to abuse him for an old fool, and the king begun +to sass back, and the minute they was fairly at it I lit out and shook +the reefs out of my hind legs, and spun down the river road like a deer, +for I see our chance; and I made up my mind that it would be a long day +before they ever see me and Jim again. I got down there all out of +breath but loaded up with joy, and sung out: + +"Set her loose, Jim! we're all right now!" + +But there warn't no answer, and nobody come out of the wigwam. Jim was +gone! I set up a shout--and then another--and then another one; and run +this way and that in the woods, whooping and screeching; but it warn't no +use--old Jim was gone. Then I set down and cried; I couldn't help it. +But I couldn't set still long. Pretty soon I went out on the road, +trying to think what I better do, and I run across a boy walking, and +asked him if he'd seen a strange nigger dressed so and so, and he says: + +"Yes." + +"Whereabouts?" says I. + +"Down to Silas Phelps' place, two mile below here. He's a runaway +nigger, and they've got him. Was you looking for him?" + +"You bet I ain't! I run across him in the woods about an hour or two +ago, and he said if I hollered he'd cut my livers out--and told me to lay +down and stay where I was; and I done it. Been there ever since; afeard +to come out." + +"Well," he says, "you needn't be afeard no more, becuz they've got him. +He run off f'm down South, som'ers." + +"It's a good job they got him." + +"Well, I RECKON! There's two hunderd dollars reward on him. It's like +picking up money out'n the road." + +"Yes, it is--and I could a had it if I'd been big enough; I see him +FIRST. Who nailed him?" + +"It was an old fellow--a stranger--and he sold out his chance in him for +forty dollars, becuz he's got to go up the river and can't wait. Think +o' that, now! You bet I'D wait, if it was seven year." + +"That's me, every time," says I. "But maybe his chance ain't worth no +more than that, if he'll sell it so cheap. Maybe there's something ain't +straight about it." + +"But it IS, though--straight as a string. I see the handbill myself. It +tells all about him, to a dot--paints him like a picture, and tells the +plantation he's frum, below NewrLEANS. No-sirree-BOB, they ain't no +trouble 'bout THAT speculation, you bet you. Say, gimme a chaw tobacker, +won't ye?" + +I didn't have none, so he left. I went to the raft, and set down in the +wigwam to think. But I couldn't come to nothing. I thought till I wore +my head sore, but I couldn't see no way out of the trouble. After all +this long journey, and after all we'd done for them scoundrels, here it +was all come to nothing, everything all busted up and ruined, because +they could have the heart to serve Jim such a trick as that, and make him +a slave again all his life, and amongst strangers, too, for forty dirty +dollars. + +Once I said to myself it would be a thousand times better for Jim to be a +slave at home where his family was, as long as he'd GOT to be a slave, +and so I'd better write a letter to Tom Sawyer and tell him to tell Miss +Watson where he was. But I soon give up that notion for two things: +she'd be mad and disgusted at his rascality and ungratefulness for +leaving her, and so she'd sell him straight down the river again; and if +she didn't, everybody naturally despises an ungrateful nigger, and they'd +make Jim feel it all the time, and so he'd feel ornery and disgraced. +And then think of ME! It would get all around that Huck Finn helped a +nigger to get his freedom; and if I was ever to see anybody from that +town again I'd be ready to get down and lick his boots for shame. That's +just the way: a person does a low-down thing, and then he don't want to +take no consequences of it. Thinks as long as he can hide, it ain't no +disgrace. That was my fix exactly. The more I studied about this the +more my conscience went to grinding me, and the more wicked and low-down +and ornery I got to feeling. And at last, when it hit me all of a sudden +that here was the plain hand of Providence slapping me in the face and +letting me know my wickedness was being watched all the time from up +there in heaven, whilst I was stealing a poor old woman's nigger that +hadn't ever done me no harm, and now was showing me there's One that's +always on the lookout, and ain't a-going to allow no such miserable +doings to go only just so fur and no further, I most dropped in my tracks +I was so scared. Well, I tried the best I could to kinder soften it up +somehow for myself by saying I was brung up wicked, and so I warn't so +much to blame; but something inside of me kept saying, "There was the +Sunday-school, you could a gone to it; and if you'd a done it they'd a +learnt you there that people that acts as I'd been acting about that +nigger goes to everlasting fire." + +It made me shiver. And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I +couldn't try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I +kneeled down. But the words wouldn't come. Why wouldn't they? It +warn't no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from ME, neither. I +knowed very well why they wouldn't come. It was because my heart warn't +right; it was because I warn't square; it was because I was playing +double. I was letting ON to give up sin, but away inside of me I was +holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth SAY +I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that +nigger's owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was +a lie, and He knowed it. You can't pray a lie--I found that out. + +So I was full of trouble, full as I could be; and didn't know what to do. +At last I had an idea; and I says, I'll go and write the letter--and then +see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as light as a +feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I got a piece +of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down and wrote: + +Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below +Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the +reward if you send. + +HUCK FINN. + +I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever +felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn't do it +straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking--thinking +how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost +and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our +trip down the river; and I see Jim before me all the time: in the day +and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a- +floating along, talking and singing and laughing. But somehow I couldn't +seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other +kind. I'd see him standing my watch on top of his'n, 'stead of calling +me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when I come +back out of the fog; and when I come to him again in the swamp, up there +where the feud was; and such-like times; and would always call me honey, +and pet me and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he +always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling the men +we had small-pox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best +friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the ONLY one he's got now; and +then I happened to look around and see that paper. + +It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a- +trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I +knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says +to myself: + +"All right, then, I'll GO to hell"--and tore it up. + +It was awful thoughts and awful words, but they was said. And I let them +stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole +thing out of my head, and said I would take up wickedness again, which +was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn't. And for a +starter I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again; and if I +could think up anything worse, I would do that, too; because as long as I +was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog. + +Then I set to thinking over how to get at it, and turned over some +considerable many ways in my mind; and at last fixed up a plan that +suited me. So then I took the bearings of a woody island that was down +the river a piece, and as soon as it was fairly dark I crept out with my +raft and went for it, and hid it there, and then turned in. I slept the +night through, and got up before it was light, and had my breakfast, and +put on my store clothes, and tied up some others and one thing or another +in a bundle, and took the canoe and cleared for shore. I landed below +where I judged was Phelps's place, and hid my bundle in the woods, and +then filled up the canoe with water, and loaded rocks into her and sunk +her where I could find her again when I wanted her, about a quarter of a +mile below a little steam sawmill that was on the bank. + +Then I struck up the road, and when I passed the mill I see a sign on it, +"Phelps's Sawmill," and when I come to the farm-houses, two or three +hundred yards further along, I kept my eyes peeled, but didn't see nobody +around, though it was good daylight now. But I didn't mind, because I +didn't want to see nobody just yet--I only wanted to get the lay of the +land. According to my plan, I was going to turn up there from the +village, not from below. So I just took a look, and shoved along, +straight for town. Well, the very first man I see when I got there was +the duke. He was sticking up a bill for the Royal Nonesuch--three-night +performance--like that other time. They had the cheek, them frauds! I +was right on him before I could shirk. He looked astonished, and says: + +"Hel-LO! Where'd YOU come from?" Then he says, kind of glad and eager, +"Where's the raft?--got her in a good place?" + +I says: + +"Why, that's just what I was going to ask your grace." + +Then he didn't look so joyful, and says: + +"What was your idea for asking ME?" he says. + +"Well," I says, "when I see the king in that doggery yesterday I says to +myself, we can't get him home for hours, till he's soberer; so I went a- +loafing around town to put in the time and wait. A man up and offered me +ten cents to help him pull a skiff over the river and back to fetch a +sheep, and so I went along; but when we was dragging him to the boat, and +the man left me a-holt of the rope and went behind him to shove him +along, he was too strong for me and jerked loose and run, and we after +him. We didn't have no dog, and so we had to chase him all over the +country till we tired him out. We never got him till dark; then we +fetched him over, and I started down for the raft. When I got there and +see it was gone, I says to myself, 'They've got into trouble and had to +leave; and they've took my nigger, which is the only nigger I've got in +the world, and now I'm in a strange country, and ain't got no property no +more, nor nothing, and no way to make my living;' so I set down and +cried. I slept in the woods all night. But what DID become of the raft, +then?--and Jim--poor Jim!" + +"Blamed if I know--that is, what's become of the raft. That old fool had +made a trade and got forty dollars, and when we found him in the doggery +the loafers had matched half-dollars with him and got every cent but what +he'd spent for whisky; and when I got him home late last night and found +the raft gone, we said, 'That little rascal has stole our raft and shook +us, and run off down the river.'" + +"I wouldn't shake my NIGGER, would I?--the only nigger I had in the +world, and the only property." + +"We never thought of that. Fact is, I reckon we'd come to consider him +OUR nigger; yes, we did consider him so--goodness knows we had trouble +enough for him. So when we see the raft was gone and we flat broke, +there warn't anything for it but to try the Royal Nonesuch another shake. +And I've pegged along ever since, dry as a powder-horn. Where's that ten +cents? Give it here." + +I had considerable money, so I give him ten cents, but begged him to +spend it for something to eat, and give me some, because it was all the +money I had, and I hadn't had nothing to eat since yesterday. He never +said nothing. The next minute he whirls on me and says: + +"Do you reckon that nigger would blow on us? We'd skin him if he done +that!" + +"How can he blow? Hain't he run off?" + +"No! That old fool sold him, and never divided with me, and the money's +gone." + +"SOLD him?" I says, and begun to cry; "why, he was MY nigger, and that +was my money. Where is he?--I want my nigger." + +"Well, you can't GET your nigger, that's all--so dry up your blubbering. +Looky here--do you think YOU'D venture to blow on us? Blamed if I think +I'd trust you. Why, if you WAS to blow on us--" + +He stopped, but I never see the duke look so ugly out of his eyes before. +I went on a-whimpering, and says: + +"I don't want to blow on nobody; and I ain't got no time to blow, nohow. +I got to turn out and find my nigger." + +He looked kinder bothered, and stood there with his bills fluttering on +his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his forehead. At last he says: + +"I'll tell you something. We got to be here three days. If you'll +promise you won't blow, and won't let the nigger blow, I'll tell you +where to find him." + +So I promised, and he says: + +"A farmer by the name of Silas Ph--" and then he stopped. You see, he +started to tell me the truth; but when he stopped that way, and begun to +study and think again, I reckoned he was changing his mind. And so he +was. He wouldn't trust me; he wanted to make sure of having me out of the +way the whole three days. So pretty soon he says: + +"The man that bought him is named Abram Foster--Abram G. Foster--and he +lives forty mile back here in the country, on the road to Lafayette." + +"All right," I says, "I can walk it in three days. And I'll start this +very afternoon." + +"No you wont, you'll start NOW; and don't you lose any time about it, +neither, nor do any gabbling by the way. Just keep a tight tongue in +your head and move right along, and then you won't get into trouble with +US, d'ye hear?" + +That was the order I wanted, and that was the one I played for. I wanted +to be left free to work my plans. + +"So clear out," he says; "and you can tell Mr. Foster whatever you want +to. Maybe you can get him to believe that Jim IS your nigger--some idiots +don't require documents--leastways I've heard there's such down South +here. And when you tell him the handbill and the reward's bogus, maybe +he'll believe you when you explain to him what the idea was for getting +'em out. Go 'long now, and tell him anything you want to; but mind you +don't work your jaw any BETWEEN here and there." + +So I left, and struck for the back country. I didn't look around, but I +kinder felt like he was watching me. But I knowed I could tire him out +at that. I went straight out in the country as much as a mile before I +stopped; then I doubled back through the woods towards Phelps'. I +reckoned I better start in on my plan straight off without fooling +around, because I wanted to stop Jim's mouth till these fellows could get +away. I didn't want no trouble with their kind. I'd seen all I wanted +to of them, and wanted to get entirely shut of them. + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +WHEN I got there it was all still and Sunday-like, and hot and sunshiny; +the hands was gone to the fields; and there was them kind of faint +dronings of bugs and flies in the air that makes it seem so lonesome and +like everybody's dead and gone; and if a breeze fans along and quivers +the leaves it makes you feel mournful, because you feel like it's spirits +whispering--spirits that's been dead ever so many years--and you always +think they're talking about YOU. As a general thing it makes a body wish +HE was dead, too, and done with it all. + +Phelps' was one of these little one-horse cotton plantations, and they +all look alike. A rail fence round a two-acre yard; a stile made out of +logs sawed off and up-ended in steps, like barrels of a different length, +to climb over the fence with, and for the women to stand on when they are +going to jump on to a horse; some sickly grass-patches in the big yard, +but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the nap rubbed +off; big double log-house for the white folks--hewed logs, with the +chinks stopped up with mud or mortar, and these mud-stripes been +whitewashed some time or another; round-log kitchen, with a big broad, +open but roofed passage joining it to the house; log smoke-house back of +the kitchen; three little log nigger-cabins in a row t'other side the +smoke-house; one little hut all by itself away down against the back +fence, and some outbuildings down a piece the other side; ash-hopper and +big kettle to bile soap in by the little hut; bench by the kitchen door, +with bucket of water and a gourd; hound asleep there in the sun; more +hounds asleep round about; about three shade trees away off in a corner; +some currant bushes and gooseberry bushes in one place by the fence; +outside of the fence a garden and a watermelon patch; then the cotton +fields begins, and after the fields the woods. + +I went around and clumb over the back stile by the ash-hopper, and +started for the kitchen. When I got a little ways I heard the dim hum of +a spinning-wheel wailing along up and sinking along down again; and then +I knowed for certain I wished I was dead--for that IS the lonesomest +sound in the whole world. + +I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting +to Providence to put the right words in my mouth when the time come; for +I'd noticed that Providence always did put the right words in my mouth if +I left it alone. + +When I got half-way, first one hound and then another got up and went for +me, and of course I stopped and faced them, and kept still. And such +another powwow as they made! In a quarter of a minute I was a kind of a +hub of a wheel, as you may say--spokes made out of dogs--circle of +fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses +stretched up towards me, a-barking and howling; and more a-coming; you +could see them sailing over fences and around corners from everywheres. + +A nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rolling-pin in her +hand, singing out, "Begone YOU Tige! you Spot! begone sah!" and she +fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent them howling, +and then the rest followed; and the next second half of them come back, +wagging their tails around me, and making friends with me. There ain't +no harm in a hound, nohow. + +And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger +boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their +mother's gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way +they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, +about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick in +her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same +way the little niggers was going. She was smiling all over so she could +hardly stand--and says: + +"It's YOU, at last!--AIN'T it?" + +I out with a "Yes'm" before I thought. + +She grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped me by both hands and +shook and shook; and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; and +she couldn't seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, "You don't +look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law sakes, I +don't care for that, I'm so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem +like I could eat you up! Children, it's your cousin Tom!--tell him +howdy." + +But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and +hid behind her. So she run on: + +"Lize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away--or did you get +your breakfast on the boat?" + +I said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, +leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got +there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on +a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says: + +"Now I can have a GOOD look at you; and, laws-a-me, I've been hungry for +it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it's come at last! +We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep' you?--boat +get aground?" + +"Yes'm--she--" + +"Don't say yes'm--say Aunt Sally. Where'd she get aground?" + +I didn't rightly know what to say, because I didn't know whether the boat +would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; +and my instinct said she would be coming up--from down towards Orleans. +That didn't help me much, though; for I didn't know the names of bars +down that way. I see I'd got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the +one we got aground on--or--Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out: + +"It warn't the grounding--that didn't keep us back but a little. We +blowed out a cylinder-head." + +"Good gracious! anybody hurt?" + +"No'm. Killed a nigger." + +"Well, it's lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago +last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old +Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I +think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a +family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember +now, he DID die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. +But it didn't save him. Yes, it was mortification--that was it. He +turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. +They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle's been up to the town +every day to fetch you. And he's gone again, not more'n an hour ago; +he'll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn't +you?--oldish man, with a--" + +"No, I didn't see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, +and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town +and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too +soon; and so I come down the back way." + +"Who'd you give the baggage to?" + +"Nobody." + +"Why, child, it 'll be stole!" + +"Not where I hid it I reckon it won't," I says. + +"How'd you get your breakfast so early on the boat?" + +It was kinder thin ice, but I says: + +"The captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something +to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers' +lunch, and give me all I wanted." + +I was getting so uneasy I couldn't listen good. I had my mind on the +children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them +a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn't get no show, Mrs. +Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills +streak all down my back, because she says: + +"But here we're a-running on this way, and you hain't told me a word +about Sis, nor any of them. Now I'll rest my works a little, and you +start up yourn; just tell me EVERYTHING--tell me all about 'm all every +one of 'm; and how they are, and what they're doing, and what they told +you to tell me; and every last thing you can think of." + +Well, I see I was up a stump--and up it good. Providence had stood by me +this fur all right, but I was hard and tight aground now. I see it +warn't a bit of use to try to go ahead--I'd got to throw up my hand. So +I says to myself, here's another place where I got to resk the truth. I +opened my mouth to begin; but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind the +bed, and says: + +"Here he comes! Stick your head down lower--there, that'll do; you can't +be seen now. Don't you let on you're here. I'll play a joke on him. +Children, don't you say a word." + +I see I was in a fix now. But it warn't no use to worry; there warn't +nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from +under when the lightning struck. + +I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then +the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says: + +"Has he come?" + +"No," says her husband. + +"Good-NESS gracious!" she says, "what in the warld can have become of +him?" + +"I can't imagine," says the old gentleman; "and I must say it makes me +dreadful uneasy." + +"Uneasy!" she says; "I'm ready to go distracted! He MUST a come; and +you've missed him along the road. I KNOW it's so--something tells me +so." + +"Why, Sally, I COULDN'T miss him along the road--YOU know that." + +"But oh, dear, dear, what WILL Sis say! He must a come! You must a +missed him. He--" + +"Oh, don't distress me any more'n I'm already distressed. I don't know +what in the world to make of it. I'm at my wit's end, and I don't mind +acknowledging 't I'm right down scared. But there's no hope that he's +come; for he COULDN'T come and me miss him. Sally, it's terrible--just +terrible--something's happened to the boat, sure!" + +"Why, Silas! Look yonder!--up the road!--ain't that somebody coming?" + +He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps +the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and +give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window +there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I +standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and +says: + +"Why, who's that?" + +"Who do you reckon 't is?" + +"I hain't no idea. Who IS it?" + +"It's TOM SAWYER!" + +By jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn't no time to +swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on +shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and +cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, +and the rest of the tribe. + +But if they was joyful, it warn't nothing to what I was; for it was like +being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze +to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn't +hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family--I mean the +Sawyer family--than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I +explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of +White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, +and worked first-rate; because THEY didn't know but what it would take +three days to fix it. If I'd a called it a bolthead it would a done just +as well. + +Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty +uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and +comfortable, and it stayed easy and comfortable till by and by I hear a +steamboat coughing along down the river. Then I says to myself, s'pose +Tom Sawyer comes down on that boat? And s'pose he steps in here any +minute, and sings out my name before I can throw him a wink to keep +quiet? + +Well, I couldn't HAVE it that way; it wouldn't do at all. I must go up +the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would go up to +the town and fetch down my baggage. The old gentleman was for going +along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and I +druther he wouldn't take no trouble about me. + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +SO I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a wagon +coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited till +he come along. I says "Hold on!" and it stopped alongside, and his mouth +opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three +times like a person that's got a dry throat, and then says: + +"I hain't ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want +to come back and ha'nt ME for?" + +I says: + +"I hain't come back--I hain't been GONE." + +When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn't quite +satisfied yet. He says: + +"Don't you play nothing on me, because I wouldn't on you. Honest injun, +you ain't a ghost?" + +"Honest injun, I ain't," I says. + +"Well--I--I--well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can't +somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn't you ever +murdered AT ALL?" + +"No. I warn't ever murdered at all--I played it on them. You come in +here and feel of me if you don't believe me." + +So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again +he didn't know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, +because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where +he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by and by; and told his driver +to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a +fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him +alone a minute, and don't disturb him. So he thought and thought, and +pretty soon he says: + +"It's all right; I've got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on +it's your'n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the +house about the time you ought to; and I'll go towards town a piece, and +take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; +and you needn't let on to know me at first." + +I says: + +"All right; but wait a minute. There's one more thing--a thing that +NOBODY don't know but me. And that is, there's a nigger here that I'm a- +trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is JIM--old Miss Watson's +Jim." + +He says: + +"What! Why, Jim is--" + +He stopped and went to studying. I says: + +"I know what you'll say. You'll say it's dirty, low-down business; but +what if it is? I'm low down; and I'm a-going to steal him, and I want +you keep mum and not let on. Will you?" + +His eye lit up, and he says: + +"I'll HELP you steal him!" + +Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most +astonishing speech I ever heard--and I'm bound to say Tom Sawyer fell +considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn't believe it. Tom Sawyer a +NIGGER-STEALER! + +"Oh, shucks!" I says; "you're joking." + +"I ain't joking, either." + +"Well, then," I says, "joking or no joking, if you hear anything said +about a runaway nigger, don't forget to remember that YOU don't know +nothing about him, and I don't know nothing about him." + +Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way +and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on +accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too +quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and +he says: + +"Why, this is wonderful! Whoever would a thought it was in that mare to +do it? I wish we'd a timed her. And she hain't sweated a hair--not a +hair. It's wonderful. Why, I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for that +horse now--I wouldn't, honest; and yet I'd a sold her for fifteen +before, and thought 'twas all she was worth." + +That's all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. +But it warn't surprising; because he warn't only just a farmer, he was a +preacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of the +plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church +and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was +worth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, and +done the same way, down South. + +In about half an hour Tom's wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt +Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty +yards, and says: + +"Why, there's somebody come! I wonder who 'tis? Why, I do believe it's +a stranger. Jimmy" (that's one of the children) "run and tell Lize to +put on another plate for dinner." + +Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger +don't come EVERY year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for +interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the +house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all +bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an +audience--and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances +it warn't no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was +suitable. He warn't a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, +he come ca'm and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he +lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box +that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn't want to disturb them, and +says: + +"Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?" + +"No, my boy," says the old gentleman, "I'm sorry to say 't your driver +has deceived you; Nichols's place is down a matter of three mile more. +Come in, come in." + +Tom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, "Too late--he's out +of sight." + +"Yes, he's gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with +us; and then we'll hitch up and take you down to Nichols's." + +"Oh, I CAN'T make you so much trouble; I couldn't think of it. I'll walk +--I don't mind the distance." + +"But we won't LET you walk--it wouldn't be Southern hospitality to do it. +Come right in." + +"Oh, DO," says Aunt Sally; "it ain't a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in +the world. You must stay. It's a long, dusty three mile, and we can't +let you walk. And, besides, I've already told 'em to put on another +plate when I see you coming; so you mustn't disappoint us. Come right in +and make yourself at home." + +So Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself be +persuaded, and come in; and when he was in he said he was a stranger from +Hicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompson--and he made another +bow. + +Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and +everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and +wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, +still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the +mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was +going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her +hand, and says: + +"You owdacious puppy!" + +He looked kind of hurt, and says: + +"I'm surprised at you, m'am." + +"You're s'rp--Why, what do you reckon I am? I've a good notion to take +and--Say, what do you mean by kissing me?" + +He looked kind of humble, and says: + +"I didn't mean nothing, m'am. I didn't mean no harm. I--I--thought +you'd like it." + +"Why, you born fool!" She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like +it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. "What +made you think I'd like it?" + +"Well, I don't know. Only, they--they--told me you would." + +"THEY told you I would. Whoever told you's ANOTHER lunatic. I never +heard the beat of it. Who's THEY?" + +"Why, everybody. They all said so, m'am." + +It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers +worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says: + +"Who's 'everybody'? Out with their names, or ther'll be an idiot short." + +He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says: + +"I'm sorry, and I warn't expecting it. They told me to. They all told +me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she'd like it. They all said +it--every one of them. But I'm sorry, m'am, and I won't do it no more +--I won't, honest." + +"You won't, won't you? Well, I sh'd RECKON you won't!" + +"No'm, I'm honest about it; I won't ever do it again--till you ask me." + +"Till I ASK you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I +lay you'll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you-- +or the likes of you." + +"Well," he says, "it does surprise me so. I can't make it out, somehow. +They said you would, and I thought you would. But--" He stopped and +looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye +somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman's, and says, "Didn't YOU +think she'd like me to kiss her, sir?" + +"Why, no; I--I--well, no, I b'lieve I didn't." + +Then he looks on around the same way to me, and says: + +"Tom, didn't YOU think Aunt Sally 'd open out her arms and say, 'Sid +Sawyer--'" + +"My land!" she says, breaking in and jumping for him, "you impudent young +rascal, to fool a body so--" and was going to hug him, but he fended her +off, and says: + +"No, not till you've asked me first." + +So she didn't lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him +over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took +what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says: + +"Why, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn't looking for YOU at +all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him." + +"It's because it warn't INTENDED for any of us to come but Tom," he says; +"but I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too; +so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a first-rate +surprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me to by and by +tag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it was a +mistake, Aunt Sally. This ain't no healthy place for a stranger to +come." + +"No--not impudent whelps, Sid. You ought to had your jaws boxed; I +hain't been so put out since I don't know when. But I don't care, I +don't mind the terms--I'd be willing to stand a thousand such jokes to +have you here. Well, to think of that performance! I don't deny it, I +was most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack." + +We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and the +kitchen; and there was things enough on that table for seven families-- +and all hot, too; none of your flabby, tough meat that's laid in a +cupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of old cold +cannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long blessing +over it, but it was worth it; and it didn't cool it a bit, neither, the +way I've seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. There was a +considerable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me and Tom was on +the lookout all the time; but it warn't no use, they didn't happen to say +nothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid to try to work up to +it. But at supper, at night, one of the little boys says: + +"Pa, mayn't Tom and Sid and me go to the show?" + +"No," says the old man, "I reckon there ain't going to be any; and you +couldn't go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and me +all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people; +so I reckon they've drove the owdacious loafers out of town before this +time." + +So there it was!--but I couldn't help it. Tom and me was to sleep in the +same room and bed; so, being tired, we bid good-night and went up to bed +right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the lightning- +rod, and shoved for the town; for I didn't believe anybody was going to +give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn't hurry up and give +them one they'd get into trouble sure. + +On the road Tom he told me all about how it was reckoned I was murdered, +and how pap disappeared pretty soon, and didn't come back no more, and +what a stir there was when Jim run away; and I told Tom all about our +Royal Nonesuch rapscallions, and as much of the raft voyage as I had time +to; and as we struck into the town and up through the--here comes a +raging rush of people with torches, and an awful whooping and yelling, +and banging tin pans and blowing horns; and we jumped to one side to let +them go by; and as they went by I see they had the king and the duke +astraddle of a rail--that is, I knowed it WAS the king and the duke, +though they was all over tar and feathers, and didn't look like nothing +in the world that was human--just looked like a couple of monstrous big +soldier-plumes. Well, it made me sick to see it; and I was sorry for +them poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn't ever feel any +hardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing to +see. Human beings CAN be awful cruel to one another. + +We see we was too late--couldn't do no good. We asked some stragglers +about it, and they said everybody went to the show looking very innocent; +and laid low and kept dark till the poor old king was in the middle of +his cavortings on the stage; then somebody give a signal, and the house +rose up and went for them. + +So we poked along back home, and I warn't feeling so brash as I was +before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow--though I +hadn't done nothing. But that's always the way; it don't make no +difference whether you do right or wrong, a person's conscience ain't got +no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that +didn't know no more than a person's conscience does I would pison him. +It takes up more room than all the rest of a person's insides, and yet +ain't no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same. + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +WE stopped talking, and got to thinking. By and by Tom says: + +"Looky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I +know where Jim is." + +"No! Where?" + +"In that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at +dinner, didn't you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?" + +"Yes." + +"What did you think the vittles was for?" + +"For a dog." + +"So 'd I. Well, it wasn't for a dog." + +"Why?" + +"Because part of it was watermelon." + +"So it was--I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought +about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don't +see at the same time." + +"Well, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it +again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up +from table--same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; +and it ain't likely there's two prisoners on such a little plantation, +and where the people's all so kind and good. Jim's the prisoner. All +right--I'm glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn't give +shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan +to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we'll take the one we +like the best." + +What a head for just a boy to have! If I had Tom Sawyer's head I +wouldn't trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown in +a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, but +only just to be doing something; I knowed very well where the right plan +was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says: + +"Ready?" + +"Yes," I says. + +"All right--bring it out." + +"My plan is this," I says. "We can easy find out if it's Jim in there. +Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the +island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the +old man's britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on +the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim +used to do before. Wouldn't that plan work?" + +"WORK? Why, cert'nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it's too +blame' simple; there ain't nothing TO it. What's the good of a plan that +ain't no more trouble than that? It's as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, +it wouldn't make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory." + +I never said nothing, because I warn't expecting nothing different; but I +knowed mighty well that whenever he got HIS plan ready it wouldn't have +none of them objections to it. + +And it didn't. He told me what it was, and I see in a minute it was +worth fifteen of mine for style, and would make Jim just as free a man as +mine would, and maybe get us all killed besides. So I was satisfied, and +said we would waltz in on it. I needn't tell what it was here, because I +knowed it wouldn't stay the way, it was. I knowed he would be changing +it around every which way as we went along, and heaving in new +bullinesses wherever he got a chance. And that is what he done. + +Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in +earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. +That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was +respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at +home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and +knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, +without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this +business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before +everybody. I COULDN'T understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, +and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true +friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. +And I DID start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says: + +"Don't you reckon I know what I'm about? Don't I generly know what I'm +about?" + +"Yes." + +"Didn't I SAY I was going to help steal the nigger?" + +"Yes." + +"WELL, then." + +That's all he said, and that's all I said. It warn't no use to say any +more; because when he said he'd do a thing, he always done it. But I +couldn't make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let +it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it +so, I couldn't help it. + +When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to +the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so +as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn't make no +more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in +the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the +two sides; and on the side I warn't acquainted with--which was the north +side--we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one +stout board nailed across it. I says: + +"Here's the ticket. This hole's big enough for Jim to get through if we +wrench off the board." + +Tom says: + +"It's as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing +hooky. I should HOPE we can find a way that's a little more complicated +than THAT, Huck Finn." + +"Well, then," I says, "how 'll it do to saw him out, the way I done +before I was murdered that time?" + +"That's more LIKE," he says. "It's real mysterious, and troublesome, and +good," he says; "but I bet we can find a way that's twice as long. There +ain't no hurry; le's keep on looking around." + +Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that +joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long +as the hut, but narrow--only about six foot wide. The door to it was at +the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and +searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; +so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, +and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and +see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn't no connection with +it; and there warn't no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old +rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The +match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the +door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says; + +"Now we're all right. We'll DIG him out. It 'll take about a week!" + +Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door--you only have +to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don't fasten the doors--but that +warn't romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must +climb up the lightning-rod. But after he got up half way about three +times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted +his brains out, he thought he'd got to give it up; but after he was +rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time +he made the trip. + +In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins +to pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jim--if it WAS +Jim that was being fed. The niggers was just getting through breakfast +and starting for the fields; and Jim's nigger was piling up a tin pan +with bread and meat and things; and whilst the others was leaving, the +key come from the house. + +This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all +tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He +said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see +all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and +noises, and he didn't believe he was ever witched so long before in his +life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, +he forgot all about what he'd been a-going to do. So Tom says: + +"What's the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?" + +The nigger kind of smiled around graduly over his face, like when you +heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says: + +"Yes, Mars Sid, A dog. Cur'us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at +'im?" + +"Yes." + +I hunched Tom, and whispers: + +"You going, right here in the daybreak? THAT warn't the plan." + +"No, it warn't; but it's the plan NOW." + +So, drat him, we went along, but I didn't like it much. When we got in +we couldn't hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure +enough, and could see us; and he sings out: + +"Why, HUCK! En good LAN'! ain' dat Misto Tom?" + +I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn't know nothing +to do; and if I had I couldn't a done it, because that nigger busted in +and says: + +"Why, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?" + +We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and +kind of wondering, and says: + +"Does WHO know us?" + +"Why, dis-yer runaway nigger." + +"I don't reckon he does; but what put that into your head?" + +"What PUT it dar? Didn' he jis' dis minute sing out like he knowed you?" + +Tom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way: + +"Well, that's mighty curious. WHO sung out? WHEN did he sing out? WHAT +did he sing out?" And turns to me, perfectly ca'm, and says, "Did YOU +hear anybody sing out?" + +Of course there warn't nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says: + +"No; I ain't heard nobody say nothing." + +Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, +and says: + +"Did you sing out?" + +"No, sah," says Jim; "I hain't said nothing, sah." + +"Not a word?" + +"No, sah, I hain't said a word." + +"Did you ever see us before?" + +"No, sah; not as I knows on." + +So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and +says, kind of severe: + +"What do you reckon's the matter with you, anyway? What made you think +somebody sung out?" + +"Oh, it's de dad-blame' witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey's +awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos' kill me, dey sk'yers me so. Please to +don't tell nobody 'bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he'll scole me; 'kase +he say dey AIN'T no witches. I jis' wish to goodness he was heah now-- +DEN what would he say! I jis' bet he couldn' fine no way to git aroun' +it DIS time. But it's awluz jis' so; people dat's SOT, stays sot; dey +won't look into noth'n'en fine it out f'r deyselves, en when YOU fine it +out en tell um 'bout it, dey doan' b'lieve you." + +Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn't tell nobody; and told him to +buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and +says: + +"I wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch +a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn't give him up, +I'd hang him." And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the +dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says: + +"Don't ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on +nights, it's us; we're going to set you free." + +Jim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it; then the nigger +come back, and we said we'd come again some time if the nigger wanted us +to; and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the +witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks +around then. + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +IT would be most an hour yet till breakfast, so we left and struck down +into the woods; because Tom said we got to have SOME light to see how to +dig by, and a lantern makes too much, and might get us into trouble; what +we must have was a lot of them rotten chunks that's called fox-fire, and +just makes a soft kind of a glow when you lay them in a dark place. We +fetched an armful and hid it in the weeds, and set down to rest, and Tom +says, kind of dissatisfied: + +"Blame it, this whole thing is just as easy and awkward as it can be. +And so it makes it so rotten difficult to get up a difficult plan. There +ain't no watchman to be drugged--now there OUGHT to be a watchman. There +ain't even a dog to give a sleeping-mixture to. And there's Jim chained +by one leg, with a ten-foot chain, to the leg of his bed: why, all you +got to do is to lift up the bedstead and slip off the chain. And Uncle +Silas he trusts everybody; sends the key to the punkin-headed nigger, and +don't send nobody to watch the nigger. Jim could a got out of that +window-hole before this, only there wouldn't be no use trying to travel +with a ten-foot chain on his leg. Why, drat it, Huck, it's the stupidest +arrangement I ever see. You got to invent ALL the difficulties. Well, we +can't help it; we got to do the best we can with the materials we've got. +Anyhow, there's one thing--there's more honor in getting him out +through a lot of difficulties and dangers, where there warn't one of them +furnished to you by the people who it was their duty to furnish them, and +you had to contrive them all out of your own head. Now look at just that +one thing of the lantern. When you come down to the cold facts, we +simply got to LET ON that a lantern's resky. Why, we could work with a +torchlight procession if we wanted to, I believe. Now, whilst I think of +it, we got to hunt up something to make a saw out of the first chance we +get." + +"What do we want of a saw?" + +"What do we WANT of a saw? Hain't we got to saw the leg of Jim's bed +off, so as to get the chain loose?" + +"Why, you just said a body could lift up the bedstead and slip the chain +off." + +"Well, if that ain't just like you, Huck Finn. You CAN get up the +infant-schooliest ways of going at a thing. Why, hain't you ever read +any books at all?--Baron Trenck, nor Casanova, nor Benvenuto Chelleeny, +nor Henri IV., nor none of them heroes? Who ever heard of getting a +prisoner loose in such an old-maidy way as that? No; the way all the +best authorities does is to saw the bed-leg in two, and leave it just so, +and swallow the sawdust, so it can't be found, and put some dirt and +grease around the sawed place so the very keenest seneskal can't see no +sign of it's being sawed, and thinks the bed-leg is perfectly sound. +Then, the night you're ready, fetch the leg a kick, down she goes; slip +off your chain, and there you are. Nothing to do but hitch your rope +ladder to the battlements, shin down it, break your leg in the moat-- +because a rope ladder is nineteen foot too short, you know--and there's +your horses and your trusty vassles, and they scoop you up and fling you +across a saddle, and away you go to your native Langudoc, or Navarre, or +wherever it is. It's gaudy, Huck. I wish there was a moat to this cabin. +If we get time, the night of the escape, we'll dig one." + +I says: + +"What do we want of a moat when we're going to snake him out from under +the cabin?" + +But he never heard me. He had forgot me and everything else. He had his +chin in his hand, thinking. Pretty soon he sighs and shakes his head; +then sighs again, and says: + +"No, it wouldn't do--there ain't necessity enough for it." + +"For what?" I says. + +"Why, to saw Jim's leg off," he says. + +"Good land!" I says; "why, there ain't NO necessity for it. And what +would you want to saw his leg off for, anyway?" + +"Well, some of the best authorities has done it. They couldn't get the +chain off, so they just cut their hand off and shoved. And a leg would +be better still. But we got to let that go. There ain't necessity +enough in this case; and, besides, Jim's a nigger, and wouldn't +understand the reasons for it, and how it's the custom in Europe; so +we'll let it go. But there's one thing--he can have a rope ladder; we +can tear up our sheets and make him a rope ladder easy enough. And we +can send it to him in a pie; it's mostly done that way. And I've et +worse pies." + +"Why, Tom Sawyer, how you talk," I says; "Jim ain't got no use for a rope +ladder." + +"He HAS got use for it. How YOU talk, you better say; you don't know +nothing about it. He's GOT to have a rope ladder; they all do." + +"What in the nation can he DO with it?" + +"DO with it? He can hide it in his bed, can't he?" That's what they all +do; and HE'S got to, too. Huck, you don't ever seem to want to do +anything that's regular; you want to be starting something fresh all the +time. S'pose he DON'T do nothing with it? ain't it there in his bed, for +a clew, after he's gone? and don't you reckon they'll want clews? Of +course they will. And you wouldn't leave them any? That would be a +PRETTY howdy-do, WOULDN'T it! I never heard of such a thing." + +"Well," I says, "if it's in the regulations, and he's got to have it, all +right, let him have it; because I don't wish to go back on no +regulations; but there's one thing, Tom Sawyer--if we go to tearing up +our sheets to make Jim a rope ladder, we're going to get into trouble +with Aunt Sally, just as sure as you're born. Now, the way I look at it, +a hickry-bark ladder don't cost nothing, and don't waste nothing, and is +just as good to load up a pie with, and hide in a straw tick, as any rag +ladder you can start; and as for Jim, he ain't had no experience, and so +he don't care what kind of a--" + +"Oh, shucks, Huck Finn, if I was as ignorant as you I'd keep still-- +that's what I'D do. Who ever heard of a state prisoner escaping by a +hickry-bark ladder? Why, it's perfectly ridiculous." + +"Well, all right, Tom, fix it your own way; but if you'll take my advice, +you'll let me borrow a sheet off of the clothesline." + +He said that would do. And that gave him another idea, and he says: + +"Borrow a shirt, too." + +"What do we want of a shirt, Tom?" + +"Want it for Jim to keep a journal on." + +"Journal your granny--JIM can't write." + +"S'pose he CAN'T write--he can make marks on the shirt, can't he, if we +make him a pen out of an old pewter spoon or a piece of an old iron +barrel-hoop?" + +"Why, Tom, we can pull a feather out of a goose and make him a better +one; and quicker, too." + +"PRISONERS don't have geese running around the donjon-keep to pull pens +out of, you muggins. They ALWAYS make their pens out of the hardest, +toughest, troublesomest piece of old brass candlestick or something like +that they can get their hands on; and it takes them weeks and weeks and +months and months to file it out, too, because they've got to do it by +rubbing it on the wall. THEY wouldn't use a goose-quill if they had it. +It ain't regular." + +"Well, then, what'll we make him the ink out of?" + +"Many makes it out of iron-rust and tears; but that's the common sort and +women; the best authorities uses their own blood. Jim can do that; and +when he wants to send any little common ordinary mysterious message to +let the world know where he's captivated, he can write it on the bottom +of a tin plate with a fork and throw it out of the window. The Iron Mask +always done that, and it's a blame' good way, too." + +"Jim ain't got no tin plates. They feed him in a pan." + +"That ain't nothing; we can get him some." + +"Can't nobody READ his plates." + +"That ain't got anything to DO with it, Huck Finn. All HE'S got to do is +to write on the plate and throw it out. You don't HAVE to be able to +read it. Why, half the time you can't read anything a prisoner writes on +a tin plate, or anywhere else." + +"Well, then, what's the sense in wasting the plates?" + +"Why, blame it all, it ain't the PRISONER'S plates." + +"But it's SOMEBODY'S plates, ain't it?" + +"Well, spos'n it is? What does the PRISONER care whose--" + +He broke off there, because we heard the breakfast-horn blowing. So we +cleared out for the house. + +Along during the morning I borrowed a sheet and a white shirt off of the +clothes-line; and I found an old sack and put them in it, and we went +down and got the fox-fire, and put that in too. I called it borrowing, +because that was what pap always called it; but Tom said it warn't +borrowing, it was stealing. He said we was representing prisoners; and +prisoners don't care how they get a thing so they get it, and nobody +don't blame them for it, either. It ain't no crime in a prisoner to +steal the thing he needs to get away with, Tom said; it's his right; and +so, as long as we was representing a prisoner, we had a perfect right to +steal anything on this place we had the least use for to get ourselves +out of prison with. He said if we warn't prisoners it would be a very +different thing, and nobody but a mean, ornery person would steal when he +warn't a prisoner. So we allowed we would steal everything there was +that come handy. And yet he made a mighty fuss, one day, after that, +when I stole a watermelon out of the nigger-patch and eat it; and he made +me go and give the niggers a dime without telling them what it was for. +Tom said that what he meant was, we could steal anything we NEEDED. Well, +I says, I needed the watermelon. But he said I didn't need it to get out +of prison with; there's where the difference was. He said if I'd a +wanted it to hide a knife in, and smuggle it to Jim to kill the seneskal +with, it would a been all right. So I let it go at that, though I +couldn't see no advantage in my representing a prisoner if I got to set +down and chaw over a lot of gold-leaf distinctions like that every time I +see a chance to hog a watermelon. + +Well, as I was saying, we waited that morning till everybody was settled +down to business, and nobody in sight around the yard; then Tom he +carried the sack into the lean-to whilst I stood off a piece to keep +watch. By and by he come out, and we went and set down on the woodpile +to talk. He says: + +"Everything's all right now except tools; and that's easy fixed." + +"Tools?" I says. + +"Yes." + +"Tools for what?" + +"Why, to dig with. We ain't a-going to GNAW him out, are we?" + +"Ain't them old crippled picks and things in there good enough to dig a +nigger out with?" I says. + +He turns on me, looking pitying enough to make a body cry, and says: + +"Huck Finn, did you EVER hear of a prisoner having picks and shovels, and +all the modern conveniences in his wardrobe to dig himself out with? Now +I want to ask you--if you got any reasonableness in you at all--what kind +of a show would THAT give him to be a hero? Why, they might as well lend +him the key and done with it. Picks and shovels--why, they wouldn't +furnish 'em to a king." + +"Well, then," I says, "if we don't want the picks and shovels, what do we +want?" + +"A couple of case-knives." + +"To dig the foundations out from under that cabin with?" + +"Yes." + +"Confound it, it's foolish, Tom." + +"It don't make no difference how foolish it is, it's the RIGHT way--and +it's the regular way. And there ain't no OTHER way, that ever I heard +of, and I've read all the books that gives any information about these +things. They always dig out with a case-knife--and not through dirt, mind +you; generly it's through solid rock. And it takes them weeks and weeks +and weeks, and for ever and ever. Why, look at one of them prisoners in +the bottom dungeon of the Castle Deef, in the harbor of Marseilles, that +dug himself out that way; how long was HE at it, you reckon?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well, guess." + +"I don't know. A month and a half." + +"THIRTY-SEVEN YEAR--and he come out in China. THAT'S the kind. I wish +the bottom of THIS fortress was solid rock." + +"JIM don't know nobody in China." + +"What's THAT got to do with it? Neither did that other fellow. But +you're always a-wandering off on a side issue. Why can't you stick to +the main point?" + +"All right--I don't care where he comes out, so he COMES out; and Jim +don't, either, I reckon. But there's one thing, anyway--Jim's too old to +be dug out with a case-knife. He won't last." + +"Yes he will LAST, too. You don't reckon it's going to take thirty-seven +years to dig out through a DIRT foundation, do you?" + +"How long will it take, Tom?" + +"Well, we can't resk being as long as we ought to, because it mayn't take +very long for Uncle Silas to hear from down there by New Orleans. He'll +hear Jim ain't from there. Then his next move will be to advertise Jim, +or something like that. So we can't resk being as long digging him out +as we ought to. By rights I reckon we ought to be a couple of years; but +we can't. Things being so uncertain, what I recommend is this: that we +really dig right in, as quick as we can; and after that, we can LET ON, +to ourselves, that we was at it thirty-seven years. Then we can snatch +him out and rush him away the first time there's an alarm. Yes, I reckon +that 'll be the best way." + +"Now, there's SENSE in that," I says. "Letting on don't cost nothing; +letting on ain't no trouble; and if it's any object, I don't mind letting +on we was at it a hundred and fifty year. It wouldn't strain me none, +after I got my hand in. So I'll mosey along now, and smouch a couple of +case-knives." + +"Smouch three," he says; "we want one to make a saw out of." + +"Tom, if it ain't unregular and irreligious to sejest it," I says, +"there's an old rusty saw-blade around yonder sticking under the weather- +boarding behind the smoke-house." + +He looked kind of weary and discouraged-like, and says: + +"It ain't no use to try to learn you nothing, Huck. Run along and smouch +the knives--three of them." So I done it. + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +AS soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down the +lightning-rod, and shut ourselves up in the lean-to, and got out our pile +of fox-fire, and went to work. We cleared everything out of the way, +about four or five foot along the middle of the bottom log. Tom said we +was right behind Jim's bed now, and we'd dig in under it, and when we got +through there couldn't nobody in the cabin ever know there was any hole +there, because Jim's counter-pin hung down most to the ground, and you'd +have to raise it up and look under to see the hole. So we dug and dug +with the case-knives till most midnight; and then we was dog-tired, and +our hands was blistered, and yet you couldn't see we'd done anything +hardly. At last I says: + +"This ain't no thirty-seven year job; this is a thirty-eight year job, +Tom Sawyer." + +He never said nothing. But he sighed, and pretty soon he stopped +digging, and then for a good little while I knowed that he was thinking. +Then he says: + +"It ain't no use, Huck, it ain't a-going to work. If we was prisoners it +would, because then we'd have as many years as we wanted, and no hurry; +and we wouldn't get but a few minutes to dig, every day, while they was +changing watches, and so our hands wouldn't get blistered, and we could +keep it up right along, year in and year out, and do it right, and the +way it ought to be done. But WE can't fool along; we got to rush; we +ain't got no time to spare. If we was to put in another night this way +we'd have to knock off for a week to let our hands get well--couldn't +touch a case-knife with them sooner." + +"Well, then, what we going to do, Tom?" + +"I'll tell you. It ain't right, and it ain't moral, and I wouldn't like +it to get out; but there ain't only just the one way: we got to dig him +out with the picks, and LET ON it's case-knives." + +"NOW you're TALKING!" I says; "your head gets leveler and leveler all +the time, Tom Sawyer," I says. "Picks is the thing, moral or no moral; +and as for me, I don't care shucks for the morality of it, nohow. When I +start in to steal a nigger, or a watermelon, or a Sunday-school book, I +ain't no ways particular how it's done so it's done. What I want is my +nigger; or what I want is my watermelon; or what I want is my Sunday- +school book; and if a pick's the handiest thing, that's the thing I'm a- +going to dig that nigger or that watermelon or that Sunday-school book +out with; and I don't give a dead rat what the authorities thinks about +it nuther." + +"Well," he says, "there's excuse for picks and letting-on in a case like +this; if it warn't so, I wouldn't approve of it, nor I wouldn't stand by +and see the rules broke--because right is right, and wrong is wrong, and +a body ain't got no business doing wrong when he ain't ignorant and knows +better. It might answer for YOU to dig Jim out with a pick, WITHOUT any +letting on, because you don't know no better; but it wouldn't for me, +because I do know better. Gimme a case-knife." + +He had his own by him, but I handed him mine. He flung it down, and +says: + +"Gimme a CASE-KNIFE." + +I didn't know just what to do--but then I thought. I scratched around +amongst the old tools, and got a pickaxe and give it to him, and he took +it and went to work, and never said a word. + +He was always just that particular. Full of principle. + +So then I got a shovel, and then we picked and shoveled, turn about, and +made the fur fly. We stuck to it about a half an hour, which was as long +as we could stand up; but we had a good deal of a hole to show for it. +When I got up stairs I looked out at the window and see Tom doing his +level best with the lightning-rod, but he couldn't come it, his hands was +so sore. At last he says: + +"It ain't no use, it can't be done. What you reckon I better do? Can't +you think of no way?" + +"Yes," I says, "but I reckon it ain't regular. Come up the stairs, and +let on it's a lightning-rod." + +So he done it. + +Next day Tom stole a pewter spoon and a brass candlestick in the house, +for to make some pens for Jim out of, and six tallow candles; and I hung +around the nigger cabins and laid for a chance, and stole three tin +plates. Tom says it wasn't enough; but I said nobody wouldn't ever see +the plates that Jim throwed out, because they'd fall in the dog-fennel +and jimpson weeds under the window-hole--then we could tote them back and +he could use them over again. So Tom was satisfied. Then he says: + +"Now, the thing to study out is, how to get the things to Jim." + +"Take them in through the hole," I says, "when we get it done." + +He only just looked scornful, and said something about nobody ever heard +of such an idiotic idea, and then he went to studying. By and by he said +he had ciphered out two or three ways, but there warn't no need to decide +on any of them yet. Said we'd got to post Jim first. + +That night we went down the lightning-rod a little after ten, and took +one of the candles along, and listened under the window-hole, and heard +Jim snoring; so we pitched it in, and it didn't wake him. Then we +whirled in with the pick and shovel, and in about two hours and a half +the job was done. We crept in under Jim's bed and into the cabin, and +pawed around and found the candle and lit it, and stood over Jim awhile, +and found him looking hearty and healthy, and then we woke him up gentle +and gradual. He was so glad to see us he most cried; and called us +honey, and all the pet names he could think of; and was for having us +hunt up a cold-chisel to cut the chain off of his leg with right away, +and clearing out without losing any time. But Tom he showed him how +unregular it would be, and set down and told him all about our plans, and +how we could alter them in a minute any time there was an alarm; and not +to be the least afraid, because we would see he got away, SURE. So Jim +he said it was all right, and we set there and talked over old times +awhile, and then Tom asked a lot of questions, and when Jim told him +Uncle Silas come in every day or two to pray with him, and Aunt Sally +come in to see if he was comfortable and had plenty to eat, and both of +them was kind as they could be, Tom says: + +"NOW I know how to fix it. We'll send you some things by them." + +I said, "Don't do nothing of the kind; it's one of the most jackass ideas +I ever struck;" but he never paid no attention to me; went right on. It +was his way when he'd got his plans set. + +So he told Jim how we'd have to smuggle in the rope-ladder pie and other +large things by Nat, the nigger that fed him, and he must be on the +lookout, and not be surprised, and not let Nat see him open them; and we +would put small things in uncle's coat-pockets and he must steal them +out; and we would tie things to aunt's apron-strings or put them in her +apron-pocket, if we got a chance; and told him what they would be and +what they was for. And told him how to keep a journal on the shirt with +his blood, and all that. He told him everything. Jim he couldn't see no +sense in the most of it, but he allowed we was white folks and knowed +better than him; so he was satisfied, and said he would do it all just as +Tom said. + +Jim had plenty corn-cob pipes and tobacco; so we had a right down good +sociable time; then we crawled out through the hole, and so home to bed, +with hands that looked like they'd been chawed. Tom was in high spirits. +He said it was the best fun he ever had in his life, and the most +intellectural; and said if he only could see his way to it we would keep +it up all the rest of our lives and leave Jim to our children to get out; +for he believed Jim would come to like it better and better the more he +got used to it. He said that in that way it could be strung out to as +much as eighty year, and would be the best time on record. And he said +it would make us all celebrated that had a hand in it. + +In the morning we went out to the woodpile and chopped up the brass +candlestick into handy sizes, and Tom put them and the pewter spoon in +his pocket. Then we went to the nigger cabins, and while I got Nat's +notice off, Tom shoved a piece of candlestick into the middle of a corn- +pone that was in Jim's pan, and we went along with Nat to see how it +would work, and it just worked noble; when Jim bit into it it most mashed +all his teeth out; and there warn't ever anything could a worked better. +Tom said so himself. Jim he never let on but what it was only just a +piece of rock or something like that that's always getting into bread, +you know; but after that he never bit into nothing but what he jabbed his +fork into it in three or four places first. + +And whilst we was a-standing there in the dimmish light, here comes a +couple of the hounds bulging in from under Jim's bed; and they kept on +piling in till there was eleven of them, and there warn't hardly room in +there to get your breath. By jings, we forgot to fasten that lean-to +door! The nigger Nat he only just hollered "Witches" once, and keeled +over on to the floor amongst the dogs, and begun to groan like he was +dying. Tom jerked the door open and flung out a slab of Jim's meat, and +the dogs went for it, and in two seconds he was out himself and back +again and shut the door, and I knowed he'd fixed the other door too. +Then he went to work on the nigger, coaxing him and petting him, and +asking him if he'd been imagining he saw something again. He raised up, +and blinked his eyes around, and says: + +"Mars Sid, you'll say I's a fool, but if I didn't b'lieve I see most a +million dogs, er devils, er some'n, I wisht I may die right heah in dese +tracks. I did, mos' sholy. Mars Sid, I FELT um--I FELT um, sah; dey was +all over me. Dad fetch it, I jis' wisht I could git my han's on one er +dem witches jis' wunst--on'y jis' wunst--it's all I'd ast. But mos'ly I +wisht dey'd lemme 'lone, I does." + +Tom says: + +"Well, I tell you what I think. What makes them come here just at this +runaway nigger's breakfast-time? It's because they're hungry; that's the +reason. You make them a witch pie; that's the thing for YOU to do." + +"But my lan', Mars Sid, how's I gwyne to make 'm a witch pie? I doan' +know how to make it. I hain't ever hearn er sich a thing b'fo'." + +"Well, then, I'll have to make it myself." + +"Will you do it, honey?--will you? I'll wusshup de groun' und' yo' foot, +I will!" + +"All right, I'll do it, seeing it's you, and you've been good to us and +showed us the runaway nigger. But you got to be mighty careful. When we +come around, you turn your back; and then whatever we've put in the pan, +don't you let on you see it at all. And don't you look when Jim unloads +the pan--something might happen, I don't know what. And above all, don't +you HANDLE the witch-things." + +"HANNEL 'm, Mars Sid? What IS you a-talkin' 'bout? I wouldn' lay de +weight er my finger on um, not f'r ten hund'd thous'n billion dollars, I +wouldn't." + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +THAT was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbage-pile in +the back yard, where they keep the old boots, and rags, and pieces of +bottles, and wore-out tin things, and all such truck, and scratched +around and found an old tin washpan, and stopped up the holes as well as +we could, to bake the pie in, and took it down cellar and stole it full +of flour and started for breakfast, and found a couple of shingle-nails +that Tom said would be handy for a prisoner to scrabble his name and +sorrows on the dungeon walls with, and dropped one of them in Aunt +Sally's apron-pocket which was hanging on a chair, and t'other we stuck +in the band of Uncle Silas's hat, which was on the bureau, because we +heard the children say their pa and ma was going to the runaway nigger's +house this morning, and then went to breakfast, and Tom dropped the +pewter spoon in Uncle Silas's coat-pocket, and Aunt Sally wasn't come +yet, so we had to wait a little while. + +And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn't hardly wait +for the blessing; and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one hand +and cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with the other, +and says: + +"I've hunted high and I've hunted low, and it does beat all what HAS +become of your other shirt." + +My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hard +piece of corn-crust started down my throat after it and got met on the +road with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of the +children in the eye and curled him up like a fishing-worm, and let a cry +out of him the size of a warwhoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue around +the gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of things for +about a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would a sold out +for half price if there was a bidder. But after that we was all right +again--it was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us so kind of cold. +Uncle Silas he says: + +"It's most uncommon curious, I can't understand it. I know perfectly +well I took it OFF, because--" + +"Because you hain't got but one ON. Just LISTEN at the man! I know you +took it off, and know it by a better way than your wool-gethering memory, +too, because it was on the clo's-line yesterday--I see it there myself. +But it's gone, that's the long and the short of it, and you'll just have +to change to a red flann'l one till I can get time to make a new one. +And it 'll be the third I've made in two years. It just keeps a body on +the jump to keep you in shirts; and whatever you do manage to DO with 'm +all is more'n I can make out. A body 'd think you WOULD learn to take +some sort of care of 'em at your time of life." + +"I know it, Sally, and I do try all I can. But it oughtn't to be +altogether my fault, because, you know, I don't see them nor have nothing +to do with them except when they're on me; and I don't believe I've ever +lost one of them OFF of me." + +"Well, it ain't YOUR fault if you haven't, Silas; you'd a done it if you +could, I reckon. And the shirt ain't all that's gone, nuther. Ther's a +spoon gone; and THAT ain't all. There was ten, and now ther's only nine. +The calf got the shirt, I reckon, but the calf never took the spoon, +THAT'S certain." + +"Why, what else is gone, Sally?" + +"Ther's six CANDLES gone--that's what. The rats could a got the candles, +and I reckon they did; I wonder they don't walk off with the whole place, +the way you're always going to stop their holes and don't do it; and if +they warn't fools they'd sleep in your hair, Silas--YOU'D never find it +out; but you can't lay the SPOON on the rats, and that I know." + +"Well, Sally, I'm in fault, and I acknowledge it; I've been remiss; but I +won't let to-morrow go by without stopping up them holes." + +"Oh, I wouldn't hurry; next year 'll do. Matilda Angelina Araminta +PHELPS!" + +Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the +sugar-bowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman steps +on to the passage, and says: + +"Missus, dey's a sheet gone." + +"A SHEET gone! Well, for the land's sake!" + +"I'll stop up them holes to-day," says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful. + +"Oh, DO shet up!--s'pose the rats took the SHEET? WHERE'S it gone, +Lize?" + +"Clah to goodness I hain't no notion, Miss' Sally. She wuz on de +clo'sline yistiddy, but she done gone: she ain' dah no mo' now." + +"I reckon the world IS coming to an end. I NEVER see the beat of it in +all my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can--" + +"Missus," comes a young yaller wench, "dey's a brass cannelstick miss'n." + +"Cler out from here, you hussy, er I'll take a skillet to ye!" + +Well, she was just a-biling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned I +would sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. She +kept a-raging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, and +everybody else mighty meek and quiet; and at last Uncle Silas, looking +kind of foolish, fishes up that spoon out of his pocket. She stopped, +with her mouth open and her hands up; and as for me, I wished I was in +Jeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says: + +"It's JUST as I expected. So you had it in your pocket all the time; and +like as not you've got the other things there, too. How'd it get there?" + +"I reely don't know, Sally," he says, kind of apologizing, "or you know I +would tell. I was a-studying over my text in Acts Seventeen before +breakfast, and I reckon I put it in there, not noticing, meaning to put +my Testament in, and it must be so, because my Testament ain't in; but +I'll go and see; and if the Testament is where I had it, I'll know I +didn't put it in, and that will show that I laid the Testament down and +took up the spoon, and--" + +"Oh, for the land's sake! Give a body a rest! Go 'long now, the whole +kit and biling of ye; and don't come nigh me again till I've got back my +peace of mind." + +I'd a heard her if she'd a said it to herself, let alone speaking it out; +and I'd a got up and obeyed her if I'd a been dead. As we was passing +through the setting-room the old man he took up his hat, and the shingle- +nail fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up and laid it +on the mantel-shelf, and never said nothing, and went out. Tom see him +do it, and remembered about the spoon, and says: + +"Well, it ain't no use to send things by HIM no more, he ain't reliable." +Then he says: "But he done us a good turn with the spoon, anyway, +without knowing it, and so we'll go and do him one without HIM knowing +it--stop up his rat-holes." + +There was a noble good lot of them down cellar, and it took us a whole +hour, but we done the job tight and good and shipshape. Then we heard +steps on the stairs, and blowed out our light and hid; and here comes the +old man, with a candle in one hand and a bundle of stuff in t'other, +looking as absent-minded as year before last. He went a mooning around, +first to one rat-hole and then another, till he'd been to them all. Then +he stood about five minutes, picking tallow-drip off of his candle and +thinking. Then he turns off slow and dreamy towards the stairs, saying: + +"Well, for the life of me I can't remember when I done it. I could show +her now that I warn't to blame on account of the rats. But never mind-- +let it go. I reckon it wouldn't do no good." + +And so he went on a-mumbling up stairs, and then we left. He was a +mighty nice old man. And always is. + +Tom was a good deal bothered about what to do for a spoon, but he said +we'd got to have it; so he took a think. When he had ciphered it out he +told me how we was to do; then we went and waited around the spoon-basket +till we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to counting the spoons +and laying them out to one side, and I slid one of them up my sleeve, and +Tom says: + +"Why, Aunt Sally, there ain't but nine spoons YET." + +She says: + +"Go 'long to your play, and don't bother me. I know better, I counted 'm +myself." + +"Well, I've counted them twice, Aunty, and I can't make but nine." + +She looked out of all patience, but of course she come to count--anybody +would. + +"I declare to gracious ther' AIN'T but nine!" she says. "Why, what in +the world--plague TAKE the things, I'll count 'm again." + +So I slipped back the one I had, and when she got done counting, she +says: + +"Hang the troublesome rubbage, ther's TEN now!" and she looked huffy and +bothered both. But Tom says: + +"Why, Aunty, I don't think there's ten." + +"You numskull, didn't you see me COUNT 'm?" + +"I know, but--" + +"Well, I'll count 'm AGAIN." + +So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, +she WAS in a tearing way--just a-trembling all over, she was so mad. But +she counted and counted till she got that addled she'd start to count in +the basket for a spoon sometimes; and so, three times they come out +right, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed up the +basket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat galley-west; +and she said cle'r out and let her have some peace, and if we come +bothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she'd skin us. So we +had the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apron-pocket whilst she was a- +giving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along with her +shingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with this +business, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, because +he said NOW she couldn't ever count them spoons twice alike again to save +her life; and wouldn't believe she'd counted them right if she DID; and +said that after she'd about counted her head off for the next three days +he judged she'd give it up and offer to kill anybody that wanted her to +ever count them any more. + +So we put the sheet back on the line that night, and stole one out of her +closet; and kept on putting it back and stealing it again for a couple of +days till she didn't know how many sheets she had any more, and she +didn't CARE, and warn't a-going to bullyrag the rest of her soul out +about it, and wouldn't count them again not to save her life; she druther +die first. + +So we was all right now, as to the shirt and the sheet and the spoon and +the candles, by the help of the calf and the rats and the mixed-up +counting; and as to the candlestick, it warn't no consequence, it would +blow over by and by. + +But that pie was a job; we had no end of trouble with that pie. We fixed +it up away down in the woods, and cooked it there; and we got it done at +last, and very satisfactory, too; but not all in one day; and we had to +use up three wash-pans full of flour before we got through, and we got +burnt pretty much all over, in places, and eyes put out with the smoke; +because, you see, we didn't want nothing but a crust, and we couldn't +prop it up right, and she would always cave in. But of course we thought +of the right way at last--which was to cook the ladder, too, in the +pie. So then we laid in with Jim the second night, and tore up the sheet +all in little strings and twisted them together, and long before daylight +we had a lovely rope that you could a hung a person with. We let on it +took nine months to make it. + +And in the forenoon we took it down to the woods, but it wouldn't go into +the pie. Being made of a whole sheet, that way, there was rope enough +for forty pies if we'd a wanted them, and plenty left over for soup, or +sausage, or anything you choose. We could a had a whole dinner. + +But we didn't need it. All we needed was just enough for the pie, and so +we throwed the rest away. We didn't cook none of the pies in the wash- +pan--afraid the solder would melt; but Uncle Silas he had a noble brass +warming-pan which he thought considerable of, because it belonged to one +of his ancesters with a long wooden handle that come over from England +with William the Conqueror in the Mayflower or one of them early ships +and was hid away up garret with a lot of other old pots and things that +was valuable, not on account of being any account, because they warn't, +but on account of them being relicts, you know, and we snaked her out, +private, and took her down there, but she failed on the first pies, +because we didn't know how, but she come up smiling on the last one. We +took and lined her with dough, and set her in the coals, and loaded her +up with rag rope, and put on a dough roof, and shut down the lid, and put +hot embers on top, and stood off five foot, with the long handle, cool +and comfortable, and in fifteen minutes she turned out a pie that was a +satisfaction to look at. But the person that et it would want to fetch a +couple of kags of toothpicks along, for if that rope ladder wouldn't +cramp him down to business I don't know nothing what I'm talking about, +and lay him in enough stomach-ache to last him till next time, too. + +Nat didn't look when we put the witch pie in Jim's pan; and we put the +three tin plates in the bottom of the pan under the vittles; and so Jim +got everything all right, and as soon as he was by himself he busted into +the pie and hid the rope ladder inside of his straw tick, and scratched +some marks on a tin plate and throwed it out of the window-hole. + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +MAKING them pens was a distressid tough job, and so was the saw; and Jim +allowed the inscription was going to be the toughest of all. That's the +one which the prisoner has to scrabble on the wall. But he had to have +it; Tom said he'd GOT to; there warn't no case of a state prisoner not +scrabbling his inscription to leave behind, and his coat of arms. + +"Look at Lady Jane Grey," he says; "look at Gilford Dudley; look at old +Northumberland! Why, Huck, s'pose it IS considerble trouble?--what you +going to do?--how you going to get around it? Jim's GOT to do his +inscription and coat of arms. They all do." + +Jim says: + +"Why, Mars Tom, I hain't got no coat o' arm; I hain't got nuffn but dish +yer ole shirt, en you knows I got to keep de journal on dat." + +"Oh, you don't understand, Jim; a coat of arms is very different." + +"Well," I says, "Jim's right, anyway, when he says he ain't got no coat +of arms, because he hain't." + +"I reckon I knowed that," Tom says, "but you bet he'll have one before he +goes out of this--because he's going out RIGHT, and there ain't going to +be no flaws in his record." + +So whilst me and Jim filed away at the pens on a brickbat apiece, Jim a- +making his'n out of the brass and I making mine out of the spoon, Tom set +to work to think out the coat of arms. By and by he said he'd struck so +many good ones he didn't hardly know which to take, but there was one +which he reckoned he'd decide on. He says: + +"On the scutcheon we'll have a bend OR in the dexter base, a saltire +MURREY in the fess, with a dog, couchant, for common charge, and under +his foot a chain embattled, for slavery, with a chevron VERT in a chief +engrailed, and three invected lines on a field AZURE, with the nombril +points rampant on a dancette indented; crest, a runaway nigger, SABLE, +with his bundle over his shoulder on a bar sinister; and a couple of +gules for supporters, which is you and me; motto, MAGGIORE FRETTA, MINORE +OTTO. Got it out of a book--means the more haste the less speed." + +"Geewhillikins," I says, "but what does the rest of it mean?" + +"We ain't got no time to bother over that," he says; "we got to dig in +like all git-out." + +"Well, anyway," I says, "what's SOME of it? What's a fess?" + +"A fess--a fess is--YOU don't need to know what a fess is. I'll show him +how to make it when he gets to it." + +"Shucks, Tom," I says, "I think you might tell a person. What's a bar +sinister?" + +"Oh, I don't know. But he's got to have it. All the nobility does." + +That was just his way. If it didn't suit him to explain a thing to you, +he wouldn't do it. You might pump at him a week, it wouldn't make no +difference. + +He'd got all that coat of arms business fixed, so now he started in to +finish up the rest of that part of the work, which was to plan out a +mournful inscription--said Jim got to have one, like they all done. He +made up a lot, and wrote them out on a paper, and read them off, so: + +1. Here a captive heart busted. 2. Here a poor prisoner, forsook by the +world and friends, fretted his sorrowful life. 3. Here a lonely heart +broke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after thirty-seven years of +solitary captivity. 4. Here, homeless and friendless, after thirty-seven +years of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger, natural son of +Louis XIV. + +Tom's voice trembled whilst he was reading them, and he most broke down. +When he got done he couldn't no way make up his mind which one for Jim to +scrabble on to the wall, they was all so good; but at last he allowed he +would let him scrabble them all on. Jim said it would take him a year to +scrabble such a lot of truck on to the logs with a nail, and he didn't +know how to make letters, besides; but Tom said he would block them out +for him, and then he wouldn't have nothing to do but just follow the +lines. Then pretty soon he says: + +"Come to think, the logs ain't a-going to do; they don't have log walls +in a dungeon: we got to dig the inscriptions into a rock. We'll fetch a +rock." + +Jim said the rock was worse than the logs; he said it would take him such +a pison long time to dig them into a rock he wouldn't ever get out. But +Tom said he would let me help him do it. Then he took a look to see how +me and Jim was getting along with the pens. It was most pesky tedious +hard work and slow, and didn't give my hands no show to get well of the +sores, and we didn't seem to make no headway, hardly; so Tom says: + +"I know how to fix it. We got to have a rock for the coat of arms and +mournful inscriptions, and we can kill two birds with that same rock. +There's a gaudy big grindstone down at the mill, and we'll smouch it, and +carve the things on it, and file out the pens and the saw on it, too." + +It warn't no slouch of an idea; and it warn't no slouch of a grindstone +nuther; but we allowed we'd tackle it. It warn't quite midnight yet, so +we cleared out for the mill, leaving Jim at work. We smouched the +grindstone, and set out to roll her home, but it was a most nation tough +job. Sometimes, do what we could, we couldn't keep her from falling over, +and she come mighty near mashing us every time. Tom said she was going +to get one of us, sure, before we got through. We got her half way; and +then we was plumb played out, and most drownded with sweat. We see it +warn't no use; we got to go and fetch Jim So he raised up his bed and +slid the chain off of the bed-leg, and wrapt it round and round his neck, +and we crawled out through our hole and down there, and Jim and me laid +into that grindstone and walked her along like nothing; and Tom +superintended. He could out-superintend any boy I ever see. He knowed +how to do everything. + +Our hole was pretty big, but it warn't big enough to get the grindstone +through; but Jim he took the pick and soon made it big enough. Then Tom +marked out them things on it with the nail, and set Jim to work on them, +with the nail for a chisel and an iron bolt from the rubbage in the lean- +to for a hammer, and told him to work till the rest of his candle quit on +him, and then he could go to bed, and hide the grindstone under his straw +tick and sleep on it. Then we helped him fix his chain back on the bed- +leg, and was ready for bed ourselves. But Tom thought of something, and +says: + +"You got any spiders in here, Jim?" + +"No, sah, thanks to goodness I hain't, Mars Tom." + +"All right, we'll get you some." + +"But bless you, honey, I doan' WANT none. I's afeard un um. I jis' 's +soon have rattlesnakes aroun'." + +Tom thought a minute or two, and says: + +"It's a good idea. And I reckon it's been done. It MUST a been done; it +stands to reason. Yes, it's a prime good idea. Where could you keep +it?" + +"Keep what, Mars Tom?" + +"Why, a rattlesnake." + +"De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom! Why, if dey was a rattlesnake to +come in heah I'd take en bust right out thoo dat log wall, I would, wid +my head." + +Why, Jim, you wouldn't be afraid of it after a little. You could tame +it." + +"TAME it!" + +"Yes--easy enough. Every animal is grateful for kindness and petting, +and they wouldn't THINK of hurting a person that pets them. Any book +will tell you that. You try--that's all I ask; just try for two or three +days. Why, you can get him so in a little while that he'll love you; and +sleep with you; and won't stay away from you a minute; and will let you +wrap him round your neck and put his head in your mouth." + +"PLEASE, Mars Tom--DOAN' talk so! I can't STAN' it! He'd LET me shove +his head in my mouf--fer a favor, hain't it? I lay he'd wait a pow'ful +long time 'fo' I AST him. En mo' en dat, I doan' WANT him to sleep wid +me." + +"Jim, don't act so foolish. A prisoner's GOT to have some kind of a dumb +pet, and if a rattlesnake hain't ever been tried, why, there's more glory +to be gained in your being the first to ever try it than any other way +you could ever think of to save your life." + +"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' WANT no sich glory. Snake take 'n bite Jim's +chin off, den WHAH is de glory? No, sah, I doan' want no sich doin's." + +"Blame it, can't you TRY? I only WANT you to try--you needn't keep it up +if it don't work." + +"But de trouble all DONE ef de snake bite me while I's a tryin' him. +Mars Tom, I's willin' to tackle mos' anything 'at ain't onreasonable, but +ef you en Huck fetches a rattlesnake in heah for me to tame, I's gwyne to +LEAVE, dat's SHORE." + +"Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you're so bull-headed about it. We +can get you some garter-snakes, and you can tie some buttons on their +tails, and let on they're rattlesnakes, and I reckon that 'll have to +do." + +"I k'n stan' DEM, Mars Tom, but blame' 'f I couldn' get along widout um, +I tell you dat. I never knowed b'fo' 't was so much bother and trouble +to be a prisoner." + +"Well, it ALWAYS is when it's done right. You got any rats around here?" + +"No, sah, I hain't seed none." + +"Well, we'll get you some rats." + +"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' WANT no rats. Dey's de dadblamedest creturs to +'sturb a body, en rustle roun' over 'im, en bite his feet, when he's +tryin' to sleep, I ever see. No, sah, gimme g'yarter-snakes, 'f I's got +to have 'm, but doan' gimme no rats; I hain' got no use f'r um, skasely." + +"But, Jim, you GOT to have 'em--they all do. So don't make no more fuss +about it. Prisoners ain't ever without rats. There ain't no instance of +it. And they train them, and pet them, and learn them tricks, and they +get to be as sociable as flies. But you got to play music to them. You +got anything to play music on?" + +"I ain' got nuffn but a coase comb en a piece o' paper, en a juice-harp; +but I reck'n dey wouldn' take no stock in a juice-harp." + +"Yes they would. THEY don't care what kind of music 'tis. A jews-harp's +plenty good enough for a rat. All animals like music--in a prison they +dote on it. Specially, painful music; and you can't get no other kind +out of a jews-harp. It always interests them; they come out to see +what's the matter with you. Yes, you're all right; you're fixed very +well. You want to set on your bed nights before you go to sleep, and +early in the mornings, and play your jews-harp; play 'The Last Link is +Broken'--that's the thing that 'll scoop a rat quicker 'n anything else; +and when you've played about two minutes you'll see all the rats, and the +snakes, and spiders, and things begin to feel worried about you, and +come. And they'll just fairly swarm over you, and have a noble good +time." + +"Yes, DEY will, I reck'n, Mars Tom, but what kine er time is JIM havin'? +Blest if I kin see de pint. But I'll do it ef I got to. I reck'n I +better keep de animals satisfied, en not have no trouble in de house." + +Tom waited to think it over, and see if there wasn't nothing else; and +pretty soon he says: + +"Oh, there's one thing I forgot. Could you raise a flower here, do you +reckon?" + +"I doan know but maybe I could, Mars Tom; but it's tolable dark in heah, +en I ain' got no use f'r no flower, nohow, en she'd be a pow'ful sight o' +trouble." + +"Well, you try it, anyway. Some other prisoners has done it." + +"One er dem big cat-tail-lookin' mullen-stalks would grow in heah, Mars +Tom, I reck'n, but she wouldn't be wuth half de trouble she'd coss." + +"Don't you believe it. We'll fetch you a little one and you plant it in +the corner over there, and raise it. And don't call it mullen, call it +Pitchiola--that's its right name when it's in a prison. And you want to +water it with your tears." + +"Why, I got plenty spring water, Mars Tom." + +"You don't WANT spring water; you want to water it with your tears. It's +the way they always do." + +"Why, Mars Tom, I lay I kin raise one er dem mullen-stalks twyste wid +spring water whiles another man's a START'N one wid tears." + +"That ain't the idea. You GOT to do it with tears." + +"She'll die on my han's, Mars Tom, she sholy will; kase I doan' skasely +ever cry." + +So Tom was stumped. But he studied it over, and then said Jim would have +to worry along the best he could with an onion. He promised he would go +to the nigger cabins and drop one, private, in Jim's coffee-pot, in the +morning. Jim said he would "jis' 's soon have tobacker in his coffee;" +and found so much fault with it, and with the work and bother of raising +the mullen, and jews-harping the rats, and petting and flattering up the +snakes and spiders and things, on top of all the other work he had to do +on pens, and inscriptions, and journals, and things, which made it more +trouble and worry and responsibility to be a prisoner than anything he +ever undertook, that Tom most lost all patience with him; and said he was +just loadened down with more gaudier chances than a prisoner ever had in +the world to make a name for himself, and yet he didn't know enough to +appreciate them, and they was just about wasted on him. So Jim he was +sorry, and said he wouldn't behave so no more, and then me and Tom shoved +for bed. + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +IN the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rat-trap and +fetched it down, and unstopped the best rat-hole, and in about an hour we +had fifteen of the bulliest kind of ones; and then we took it and put it +in a safe place under Aunt Sally's bed. But while we was gone for +spiders little Thomas Franklin Benjamin Jefferson Elexander Phelps found +it there, and opened the door of it to see if the rats would come out, +and they did; and Aunt Sally she come in, and when we got back she was a- +standing on top of the bed raising Cain, and the rats was doing what they +could to keep off the dull times for her. So she took and dusted us both +with the hickry, and we was as much as two hours catching another fifteen +or sixteen, drat that meddlesome cub, and they warn't the likeliest, +nuther, because the first haul was the pick of the flock. I never see a +likelier lot of rats than what that first haul was. + +We got a splendid stock of sorted spiders, and bugs, and frogs, and +caterpillars, and one thing or another; and we like to got a hornet's +nest, but we didn't. The family was at home. We didn't give it right +up, but stayed with them as long as we could; because we allowed we'd +tire them out or they'd got to tire us out, and they done it. Then we +got allycumpain and rubbed on the places, and was pretty near all right +again, but couldn't set down convenient. And so we went for the snakes, +and grabbed a couple of dozen garters and house-snakes, and put them in a +bag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was supper-time, and a +rattling good honest day's work: and hungry?--oh, no, I reckon not! And +there warn't a blessed snake up there when we went back--we didn't half +tie the sack, and they worked out somehow, and left. But it didn't +matter much, because they was still on the premises somewheres. So we +judged we could get some of them again. No, there warn't no real +scarcity of snakes about the house for a considerable spell. You'd see +them dripping from the rafters and places every now and then; and they +generly landed in your plate, or down the back of your neck, and most of +the time where you didn't want them. Well, they was handsome and +striped, and there warn't no harm in a million of them; but that never +made no difference to Aunt Sally; she despised snakes, be the breed what +they might, and she couldn't stand them no way you could fix it; and +every time one of them flopped down on her, it didn't make no difference +what she was doing, she would just lay that work down and light out. I +never see such a woman. And you could hear her whoop to Jericho. You +couldn't get her to take a-holt of one of them with the tongs. And if +she turned over and found one in bed she would scramble out and lift a +howl that you would think the house was afire. She disturbed the old man +so that he said he could most wish there hadn't ever been no snakes +created. Why, after every last snake had been gone clear out of the +house for as much as a week Aunt Sally warn't over it yet; she warn't +near over it; when she was setting thinking about something you could +touch her on the back of her neck with a feather and she would jump right +out of her stockings. It was very curious. But Tom said all women was +just so. He said they was made that way for some reason or other. + +We got a licking every time one of our snakes come in her way, and she +allowed these lickings warn't nothing to what she would do if we ever +loaded up the place again with them. I didn't mind the lickings, because +they didn't amount to nothing; but I minded the trouble we had to lay in +another lot. But we got them laid in, and all the other things; and you +never see a cabin as blithesome as Jim's was when they'd all swarm out +for music and go for him. Jim didn't like the spiders, and the spiders +didn't like Jim; and so they'd lay for him, and make it mighty warm for +him. And he said that between the rats and the snakes and the grindstone +there warn't no room in bed for him, skasely; and when there was, a body +couldn't sleep, it was so lively, and it was always lively, he said, +because THEY never all slept at one time, but took turn about, so when +the snakes was asleep the rats was on deck, and when the rats turned in +the snakes come on watch, so he always had one gang under him, in his +way, and t'other gang having a circus over him, and if he got up to hunt +a new place the spiders would take a chance at him as he crossed over. +He said if he ever got out this time he wouldn't ever be a prisoner +again, not for a salary. + +Well, by the end of three weeks everything was in pretty good shape. The +shirt was sent in early, in a pie, and every time a rat bit Jim he would +get up and write a little in his journal whilst the ink was fresh; the +pens was made, the inscriptions and so on was all carved on the +grindstone; the bed-leg was sawed in two, and we had et up the sawdust, +and it give us a most amazing stomach-ache. We reckoned we was all going +to die, but didn't. It was the most undigestible sawdust I ever see; and +Tom said the same. But as I was saying, we'd got all the work done now, +at last; and we was all pretty much fagged out, too, but mainly Jim. The +old man had wrote a couple of times to the plantation below Orleans to +come and get their runaway nigger, but hadn't got no answer, because +there warn't no such plantation; so he allowed he would advertise Jim in +the St. Louis and New Orleans papers; and when he mentioned the St. Louis +ones it give me the cold shivers, and I see we hadn't no time to lose. +So Tom said, now for the nonnamous letters. + +"What's them?" I says. + +"Warnings to the people that something is up. Sometimes it's done one +way, sometimes another. But there's always somebody spying around that +gives notice to the governor of the castle. When Louis XVI. was going to +light out of the Tooleries a servant-girl done it. It's a very good way, +and so is the nonnamous letters. We'll use them both. And it's usual +for the prisoner's mother to change clothes with him, and she stays in, +and he slides out in her clothes. We'll do that, too." + +"But looky here, Tom, what do we want to WARN anybody for that +something's up? Let them find it out for themselves--it's their +lookout." + +"Yes, I know; but you can't depend on them. It's the way they've acted +from the very start--left us to do EVERYTHING. They're so confiding and +mullet-headed they don't take notice of nothing at all. So if we don't +GIVE them notice there won't be nobody nor nothing to interfere with us, +and so after all our hard work and trouble this escape 'll go off +perfectly flat; won't amount to nothing--won't be nothing TO it." + +"Well, as for me, Tom, that's the way I'd like." + +"Shucks!" he says, and looked disgusted. So I says: + +"But I ain't going to make no complaint. Any way that suits you suits +me. What you going to do about the servant-girl?" + +"You'll be her. You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook that +yaller girl's frock." + +"Why, Tom, that 'll make trouble next morning; because, of course, she +prob'bly hain't got any but that one." + +"I know; but you don't want it but fifteen minutes, to carry the +nonnamous letter and shove it under the front door." + +"All right, then, I'll do it; but I could carry it just as handy in my +own togs." + +"You wouldn't look like a servant-girl THEN, would you?" + +"No, but there won't be nobody to see what I look like, ANYWAY." + +"That ain't got nothing to do with it. The thing for us to do is just to +do our DUTY, and not worry about whether anybody SEES us do it or not. +Hain't you got no principle at all?" + +"All right, I ain't saying nothing; I'm the servant-girl. Who's Jim's +mother?" + +"I'm his mother. I'll hook a gown from Aunt Sally." + +"Well, then, you'll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves." + +"Not much. I'll stuff Jim's clothes full of straw and lay it on his bed +to represent his mother in disguise, and Jim 'll take the nigger woman's +gown off of me and wear it, and we'll all evade together. When a +prisoner of style escapes it's called an evasion. It's always called so +when a king escapes, f'rinstance. And the same with a king's son; it +don't make no difference whether he's a natural one or an unnatural one." + +So Tom he wrote the nonnamous letter, and I smouched the yaller wench's +frock that night, and put it on, and shoved it under the front door, the +way Tom told me to. It said: + +Beware. Trouble is brewing. Keep a sharp lookout. UNKNOWN FRIEND. + +Next night we stuck a picture, which Tom drawed in blood, of a skull and +crossbones on the front door; and next night another one of a coffin on +the back door. I never see a family in such a sweat. They couldn't a +been worse scared if the place had a been full of ghosts laying for them +behind everything and under the beds and shivering through the air. If a +door banged, Aunt Sally she jumped and said "ouch!" if anything fell, she +jumped and said "ouch!" if you happened to touch her, when she warn't +noticing, she done the same; she couldn't face noway and be satisfied, +because she allowed there was something behind her every time--so she was +always a-whirling around sudden, and saying "ouch," and before she'd got +two-thirds around she'd whirl back again, and say it again; and she was +afraid to go to bed, but she dasn't set up. So the thing was working +very well, Tom said; he said he never see a thing work more satisfactory. +He said it showed it was done right. + +So he said, now for the grand bulge! So the very next morning at the +streak of dawn we got another letter ready, and was wondering what we +better do with it, because we heard them say at supper they was going to +have a nigger on watch at both doors all night. Tom he went down the +lightning-rod to spy around; and the nigger at the back door was asleep, +and he stuck it in the back of his neck and come back. This letter said: + +Don't betray me, I wish to be your friend. There is a desprate gang of +cut-throats from over in the Indian Territory going to steal your runaway +nigger to-night, and they have been trying to scare you so as you will +stay in the house and not bother them. I am one of the gang, but have +got religgion and wish to quit it and lead an honest life again, and will +betray the helish design. They will sneak down from northards, along the +fence, at midnight exact, with a false key, and go in the nigger's cabin +to get him. I am to be off a piece and blow a tin horn if I see any +danger; but stead of that I will BA like a sheep soon as they get in and +not blow at all; then whilst they are getting his chains loose, you slip +there and lock them in, and can kill them at your leasure. Don't do +anything but just the way I am telling you; if you do they will suspicion +something and raise whoop-jamboreehoo. I do not wish any reward but to +know I have done the right thing. UNKNOWN FRIEND. + +CHAPTER XL. + +WE was feeling pretty good after breakfast, and took my canoe and went +over the river a-fishing, with a lunch, and had a good time, and took a +look at the raft and found her all right, and got home late to supper, +and found them in such a sweat and worry they didn't know which end they +was standing on, and made us go right off to bed the minute we was done +supper, and wouldn't tell us what the trouble was, and never let on a +word about the new letter, but didn't need to, because we knowed as much +about it as anybody did, and as soon as we was half up stairs and her +back was turned we slid for the cellar cubboard and loaded up a good +lunch and took it up to our room and went to bed, and got up about half- +past eleven, and Tom put on Aunt Sally's dress that he stole and was +going to start with the lunch, but says: + +"Where's the butter?" + +"I laid out a hunk of it," I says, "on a piece of a corn-pone." + +"Well, you LEFT it laid out, then--it ain't here." + +"We can get along without it," I says. + +"We can get along WITH it, too," he says; "just you slide down cellar and +fetch it. And then mosey right down the lightning-rod and come along. +I'll go and stuff the straw into Jim's clothes to represent his mother in +disguise, and be ready to BA like a sheep and shove soon as you get +there." + +So out he went, and down cellar went I. The hunk of butter, big as a +person's fist, was where I had left it, so I took up the slab of corn- +pone with it on, and blowed out my light, and started up stairs very +stealthy, and got up to the main floor all right, but here comes Aunt +Sally with a candle, and I clapped the truck in my hat, and clapped my +hat on my head, and the next second she see me; and she says: + +"You been down cellar?" + +"Yes'm." + +"What you been doing down there?" + +"Noth'n." + +"NOTH'N!" + +"No'm." + +"Well, then, what possessed you to go down there this time of night?" + +"I don't know 'm." + +"You don't KNOW? Don't answer me that way. Tom, I want to know what you +been DOING down there." + +"I hain't been doing a single thing, Aunt Sally, I hope to gracious if I +have." + +I reckoned she'd let me go now, and as a generl thing she would; but I +s'pose there was so many strange things going on she was just in a sweat +about every little thing that warn't yard-stick straight; so she says, +very decided: + +"You just march into that setting-room and stay there till I come. You +been up to something you no business to, and I lay I'll find out what it +is before I'M done with you." + +So she went away as I opened the door and walked into the setting-room. +My, but there was a crowd there! Fifteen farmers, and every one of them +had a gun. I was most powerful sick, and slunk to a chair and set down. +They was setting around, some of them talking a little, in a low voice, +and all of them fidgety and uneasy, but trying to look like they warn't; +but I knowed they was, because they was always taking off their hats, and +putting them on, and scratching their heads, and changing their seats, +and fumbling with their buttons. I warn't easy myself, but I didn't take +my hat off, all the same. + +I did wish Aunt Sally would come, and get done with me, and lick me, if +she wanted to, and let me get away and tell Tom how we'd overdone this +thing, and what a thundering hornet's-nest we'd got ourselves into, so we +could stop fooling around straight off, and clear out with Jim before +these rips got out of patience and come for us. + +At last she come and begun to ask me questions, but I COULDN'T answer +them straight, I didn't know which end of me was up; because these men +was in such a fidget now that some was wanting to start right NOW and lay +for them desperadoes, and saying it warn't but a few minutes to midnight; +and others was trying to get them to hold on and wait for the sheep- +signal; and here was Aunty pegging away at the questions, and me a- +shaking all over and ready to sink down in my tracks I was that scared; +and the place getting hotter and hotter, and the butter beginning to melt +and run down my neck and behind my ears; and pretty soon, when one of +them says, "I'M for going and getting in the cabin FIRST and right NOW, +and catching them when they come," I most dropped; and a streak of butter +come a-trickling down my forehead, and Aunt Sally she see it, and turns +white as a sheet, and says: + +"For the land's sake, what IS the matter with the child? He's got the +brain-fever as shore as you're born, and they're oozing out!" + +And everybody runs to see, and she snatches off my hat, and out comes the +bread and what was left of the butter, and she grabbed me, and hugged me, +and says: + +"Oh, what a turn you did give me! and how glad and grateful I am it ain't +no worse; for luck's against us, and it never rains but it pours, and +when I see that truck I thought we'd lost you, for I knowed by the color +and all it was just like your brains would be if--Dear, dear, whyd'nt you +TELL me that was what you'd been down there for, I wouldn't a cared. Now +cler out to bed, and don't lemme see no more of you till morning!" + +I was up stairs in a second, and down the lightning-rod in another one, +and shinning through the dark for the lean-to. I couldn't hardly get my +words out, I was so anxious; but I told Tom as quick as I could we must +jump for it now, and not a minute to lose--the house full of men, yonder, +with guns! + +His eyes just blazed; and he says: + +"No!--is that so? AIN'T it bully! Why, Huck, if it was to do over +again, I bet I could fetch two hundred! If we could put it off till--" + +"Hurry! HURRY!" I says. "Where's Jim?" + +"Right at your elbow; if you reach out your arm you can touch him. He's +dressed, and everything's ready. Now we'll slide out and give the sheep- +signal." + +But then we heard the tramp of men coming to the door, and heard them +begin to fumble with the pad-lock, and heard a man say: + +"I TOLD you we'd be too soon; they haven't come--the door is locked. +Here, I'll lock some of you into the cabin, and you lay for 'em in the +dark and kill 'em when they come; and the rest scatter around a piece, +and listen if you can hear 'em coming." + +So in they come, but couldn't see us in the dark, and most trod on us +whilst we was hustling to get under the bed. But we got under all right, +and out through the hole, swift but soft--Jim first, me next, and Tom +last, which was according to Tom's orders. Now we was in the lean-to, +and heard trampings close by outside. So we crept to the door, and Tom +stopped us there and put his eye to the crack, but couldn't make out +nothing, it was so dark; and whispered and said he would listen for the +steps to get further, and when he nudged us Jim must glide out first, and +him last. So he set his ear to the crack and listened, and listened, and +listened, and the steps a-scraping around out there all the time; and at +last he nudged us, and we slid out, and stooped down, not breathing, and +not making the least noise, and slipped stealthy towards the fence in +Injun file, and got to it all right, and me and Jim over it; but Tom's +britches catched fast on a splinter on the top rail, and then he hear the +steps coming, so he had to pull loose, which snapped the splinter and +made a noise; and as he dropped in our tracks and started somebody sings +out: + +"Who's that? Answer, or I'll shoot!" + +But we didn't answer; we just unfurled our heels and shoved. Then there +was a rush, and a BANG, BANG, BANG! and the bullets fairly whizzed around +us! We heard them sing out: + +"Here they are! They've broke for the river! After 'em, boys, and turn +loose the dogs!" + +So here they come, full tilt. We could hear them because they wore boots +and yelled, but we didn't wear no boots and didn't yell. We was in the +path to the mill; and when they got pretty close on to us we dodged into +the bush and let them go by, and then dropped in behind them. They'd had +all the dogs shut up, so they wouldn't scare off the robbers; but by this +time somebody had let them loose, and here they come, making powwow +enough for a million; but they was our dogs; so we stopped in our tracks +till they catched up; and when they see it warn't nobody but us, and no +excitement to offer them, they only just said howdy, and tore right ahead +towards the shouting and clattering; and then we up-steam again, and +whizzed along after them till we was nearly to the mill, and then struck +up through the bush to where my canoe was tied, and hopped in and pulled +for dear life towards the middle of the river, but didn't make no more +noise than we was obleeged to. Then we struck out, easy and comfortable, +for the island where my raft was; and we could hear them yelling and +barking at each other all up and down the bank, till we was so far away +the sounds got dim and died out. And when we stepped on to the raft I +says: + +"NOW, old Jim, you're a free man again, and I bet you won't ever be a +slave no more." + +"En a mighty good job it wuz, too, Huck. It 'uz planned beautiful, en it +'uz done beautiful; en dey ain't NOBODY kin git up a plan dat's mo' +mixed-up en splendid den what dat one wuz." + +We was all glad as we could be, but Tom was the gladdest of all because +he had a bullet in the calf of his leg. + +When me and Jim heard that we didn't feel so brash as what we did before. +It was hurting him considerable, and bleeding; so we laid him in the +wigwam and tore up one of the duke's shirts for to bandage him, but he +says: + +"Gimme the rags; I can do it myself. Don't stop now; don't fool around +here, and the evasion booming along so handsome; man the sweeps, and set +her loose! Boys, we done it elegant!--'deed we did. I wish WE'D a had +the handling of Louis XVI., there wouldn't a been no 'Son of Saint Louis, +ascend to heaven!' wrote down in HIS biography; no, sir, we'd a whooped +him over the BORDER--that's what we'd a done with HIM--and done it just +as slick as nothing at all, too. Man the sweeps--man the sweeps!" + +But me and Jim was consulting--and thinking. And after we'd thought a +minute, I says: + +"Say it, Jim." + +So he says: + +"Well, den, dis is de way it look to me, Huck. Ef it wuz HIM dat 'uz +bein' sot free, en one er de boys wuz to git shot, would he say, 'Go on +en save me, nemmine 'bout a doctor f'r to save dis one?' Is dat like +Mars Tom Sawyer? Would he say dat? You BET he wouldn't! WELL, den, is +JIM gywne to say it? No, sah--I doan' budge a step out'n dis place 'dout +a DOCTOR, not if it's forty year!" + +I knowed he was white inside, and I reckoned he'd say what he did say--so +it was all right now, and I told Tom I was a-going for a doctor. He +raised considerable row about it, but me and Jim stuck to it and wouldn't +budge; so he was for crawling out and setting the raft loose himself; but +we wouldn't let him. Then he give us a piece of his mind, but it didn't +do no good. + +So when he sees me getting the canoe ready, he says: + +"Well, then, if you re bound to go, I'll tell you the way to do when you +get to the village. Shut the door and blindfold the doctor tight and +fast, and make him swear to be silent as the grave, and put a purse full +of gold in his hand, and then take and lead him all around the back +alleys and everywheres in the dark, and then fetch him here in the canoe, +in a roundabout way amongst the islands, and search him and take his +chalk away from him, and don't give it back to him till you get him back +to the village, or else he will chalk this raft so he can find it again. +It's the way they all do." + +So I said I would, and left, and Jim was to hide in the woods when he see +the doctor coming till he was gone again. + +CHAPTER XLI. + +THE doctor was an old man; a very nice, kind-looking old man when I got +him up. I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island hunting +yesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and about +midnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and shot +him in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and not say +nothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to come home +this evening and surprise the folks. + +"Who is your folks?" he says. + +"The Phelpses, down yonder." + +"Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says: + +"How'd you say he got shot?" + +"He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him." + +"Singular dream," he says. + +So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. But +when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her--said she was big +enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two. I says: + +"Oh, you needn't be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easy +enough." + +"What three?" + +"Why, me and Sid, and--and--and THE GUNS; that's what I mean." + +"Oh," he says. + +But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, and +said he reckoned he'd look around for a bigger one. But they was all +locked and chained; so he took my canoe, and said for me to wait till he +come back, or I could hunt around further, or maybe I better go down home +and get them ready for the surprise if I wanted to. But I said I didn't; +so I told him just how to find the raft, and then he started. + +I struck an idea pretty soon. I says to myself, spos'n he can't fix that +leg just in three shakes of a sheep's tail, as the saying is? spos'n it +takes him three or four days? What are we going to do?--lay around there +till he lets the cat out of the bag? No, sir; I know what I'LL do. I'll +wait, and when he comes back if he says he's got to go any more I'll get +down there, too, if I swim; and we'll take and tie him, and keep him, and +shove out down the river; and when Tom's done with him we'll give him +what it's worth, or all we got, and then let him get ashore. + +So then I crept into a lumber-pile to get some sleep; and next time I +waked up the sun was away up over my head! I shot out and went for the +doctor's house, but they told me he'd gone away in the night some time or +other, and warn't back yet. Well, thinks I, that looks powerful bad for +Tom, and I'll dig out for the island right off. So away I shoved, and +turned the corner, and nearly rammed my head into Uncle Silas's stomach! +He says: + +"Why, TOM! Where you been all this time, you rascal?" + +"I hain't been nowheres," I says, "only just hunting for the runaway +nigger--me and Sid." + +"Why, where ever did you go?" he says. "Your aunt's been mighty uneasy." + +"She needn't," I says, "because we was all right. We followed the men +and the dogs, but they outrun us, and we lost them; but we thought we +heard them on the water, so we got a canoe and took out after them and +crossed over, but couldn't find nothing of them; so we cruised along up- +shore till we got kind of tired and beat out; and tied up the canoe and +went to sleep, and never waked up till about an hour ago; then we paddled +over here to hear the news, and Sid's at the post-office to see what he +can hear, and I'm a-branching out to get something to eat for us, and +then we're going home." + +So then we went to the post-office to get "Sid"; but just as I +suspicioned, he warn't there; so the old man he got a letter out of the +office, and we waited awhile longer, but Sid didn't come; so the old man +said, come along, let Sid foot it home, or canoe it, when he got done +fooling around--but we would ride. I couldn't get him to let me stay and +wait for Sid; and he said there warn't no use in it, and I must come +along, and let Aunt Sally see we was all right. + +When we got home Aunt Sally was that glad to see me she laughed and cried +both, and hugged me, and give me one of them lickings of hern that don't +amount to shucks, and said she'd serve Sid the same when he come. + +And the place was plum full of farmers and farmers' wives, to dinner; and +such another clack a body never heard. Old Mrs. Hotchkiss was the worst; +her tongue was a-going all the time. She says: + +"Well, Sister Phelps, I've ransacked that-air cabin over, an' I b'lieve +the nigger was crazy. I says to Sister Damrell--didn't I, Sister +Damrell?--s'I, he's crazy, s'I--them's the very words I said. You all +hearn me: he's crazy, s'I; everything shows it, s'I. Look at that-air +grindstone, s'I; want to tell ME't any cretur 't's in his right mind 's a +goin' to scrabble all them crazy things onto a grindstone, s'I? Here +sich 'n' sich a person busted his heart; 'n' here so 'n' so pegged along +for thirty-seven year, 'n' all that--natcherl son o' Louis somebody, 'n' +sich everlast'n rubbage. He's plumb crazy, s'I; it's what I says in the +fust place, it's what I says in the middle, 'n' it's what I says last 'n' +all the time--the nigger's crazy--crazy 's Nebokoodneezer, s'I." + +"An' look at that-air ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss," says old +Mrs. Damrell; "what in the name o' goodness COULD he ever want of--" + +"The very words I was a-sayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to Sister +Utterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself. Sh-she, look at that-air rag +ladder, sh-she; 'n' s'I, yes, LOOK at it, s'I--what COULD he a-wanted of +it, s'I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she--" + +"But how in the nation'd they ever GIT that grindstone IN there, ANYWAY? +'n' who dug that-air HOLE? 'n' who--" + +"My very WORDS, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin'--pass that-air sasser o' +m'lasses, won't ye?--I was a-sayin' to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, +how DID they git that grindstone in there, s'I. Without HELP, mind you-- +'thout HELP! THAT'S wher 'tis. Don't tell ME, s'I; there WUZ help, +s'I; 'n' ther' wuz a PLENTY help, too, s'I; ther's ben a DOZEN a-helpin' +that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on this place but I'D +find out who done it, s'I; 'n' moreover, s'I--" + +"A DOZEN says you!--FORTY couldn't a done every thing that's been done. +Look at them case-knife saws and things, how tedious they've been made; +look at that bed-leg sawed off with 'm, a week's work for six men; look +at that nigger made out'n straw on the bed; and look at--" + +"You may WELL say it, Brer Hightower! It's jist as I was a-sayin' to +Brer Phelps, his own self. S'e, what do YOU think of it, Sister +Hotchkiss, s'e? Think o' what, Brer Phelps, s'I? Think o' that bed-leg +sawed off that a way, s'e? THINK of it, s'I? I lay it never sawed +ITSELF off, s'I--somebody SAWED it, s'I; that's my opinion, take it or +leave it, it mayn't be no 'count, s'I, but sich as 't is, it's my +opinion, s'I, 'n' if any body k'n start a better one, s'I, let him DO it, +s'I, that's all. I says to Sister Dunlap, s'I--" + +"Why, dog my cats, they must a ben a house-full o' niggers in there every +night for four weeks to a done all that work, Sister Phelps. Look at +that shirt--every last inch of it kivered over with secret African writ'n +done with blood! Must a ben a raft uv 'm at it right along, all the +time, amost. Why, I'd give two dollars to have it read to me; 'n' as for +the niggers that wrote it, I 'low I'd take 'n' lash 'm t'll--" + +"People to HELP him, Brother Marples! Well, I reckon you'd THINK so if +you'd a been in this house for a while back. Why, they've stole +everything they could lay their hands on--and we a-watching all the time, +mind you. They stole that shirt right off o' the line! and as for that +sheet they made the rag ladder out of, ther' ain't no telling how many +times they DIDN'T steal that; and flour, and candles, and candlesticks, +and spoons, and the old warming-pan, and most a thousand things that I +disremember now, and my new calico dress; and me and Silas and my Sid and +Tom on the constant watch day AND night, as I was a-telling you, and not +a one of us could catch hide nor hair nor sight nor sound of them; and +here at the last minute, lo and behold you, they slides right in under +our noses and fools us, and not only fools US but the Injun Territory +robbers too, and actuly gets AWAY with that nigger safe and sound, and +that with sixteen men and twenty-two dogs right on their very heels at +that very time! I tell you, it just bangs anything I ever HEARD of. +Why, SPERITS couldn't a done better and been no smarter. And I reckon +they must a BEEN sperits--because, YOU know our dogs, and ther' ain't no +better; well, them dogs never even got on the TRACK of 'm once! You +explain THAT to me if you can!--ANY of you!" + +"Well, it does beat--" + +"Laws alive, I never--" + +"So help me, I wouldn't a be--" + +"HOUSE-thieves as well as--" + +"Goodnessgracioussakes, I'd a ben afeard to live in sich a--" + +"'Fraid to LIVE!--why, I was that scared I dasn't hardly go to bed, or +get up, or lay down, or SET down, Sister Ridgeway. Why, they'd steal the +very--why, goodness sakes, you can guess what kind of a fluster I was +in by the time midnight come last night. I hope to gracious if I warn't +afraid they'd steal some o' the family! I was just to that pass I didn't +have no reasoning faculties no more. It looks foolish enough NOW, in the +daytime; but I says to myself, there's my two poor boys asleep, 'way up +stairs in that lonesome room, and I declare to goodness I was that uneasy +'t I crep' up there and locked 'em in! I DID. And anybody would. +Because, you know, when you get scared that way, and it keeps running on, +and getting worse and worse all the time, and your wits gets to addling, +and you get to doing all sorts o' wild things, and by and by you think to +yourself, spos'n I was a boy, and was away up there, and the door ain't +locked, and you--" She stopped, looking kind of wondering, and then she +turned her head around slow, and when her eye lit on me--I got up and +took a walk. + +Says I to myself, I can explain better how we come to not be in that room +this morning if I go out to one side and study over it a little. So I +done it. But I dasn't go fur, or she'd a sent for me. And when it was +late in the day the people all went, and then I come in and told her the +noise and shooting waked up me and "Sid," and the door was locked, and we +wanted to see the fun, so we went down the lightning-rod, and both of us +got hurt a little, and we didn't never want to try THAT no more. And +then I went on and told her all what I told Uncle Silas before; and then +she said she'd forgive us, and maybe it was all right enough anyway, and +about what a body might expect of boys, for all boys was a pretty harum- +scarum lot as fur as she could see; and so, as long as no harm hadn't +come of it, she judged she better put in her time being grateful we was +alive and well and she had us still, stead of fretting over what was past +and done. So then she kissed me, and patted me on the head, and dropped +into a kind of a brown study; and pretty soon jumps up, and says: + +"Why, lawsamercy, it's most night, and Sid not come yet! What HAS become +of that boy?" + +I see my chance; so I skips up and says: + +"I'll run right up to town and get him," I says. + +"No you won't," she says. "You'll stay right wher' you are; ONE'S enough +to be lost at a time. If he ain't here to supper, your uncle 'll go." + +Well, he warn't there to supper; so right after supper uncle went. + +He come back about ten a little bit uneasy; hadn't run across Tom's +track. Aunt Sally was a good DEAL uneasy; but Uncle Silas he said there +warn't no occasion to be--boys will be boys, he said, and you'll see this +one turn up in the morning all sound and right. So she had to be +satisfied. But she said she'd set up for him a while anyway, and keep a +light burning so he could see it. + +And then when I went up to bed she come up with me and fetched her +candle, and tucked me in, and mothered me so good I felt mean, and like I +couldn't look her in the face; and she set down on the bed and talked +with me a long time, and said what a splendid boy Sid was, and didn't +seem to want to ever stop talking about him; and kept asking me every now +and then if I reckoned he could a got lost, or hurt, or maybe drownded, +and might be laying at this minute somewheres suffering or dead, and she +not by him to help him, and so the tears would drip down silent, and I +would tell her that Sid was all right, and would be home in the morning, +sure; and she would squeeze my hand, or maybe kiss me, and tell me to say +it again, and keep on saying it, because it done her good, and she was in +so much trouble. And when she was going away she looked down in my eyes +so steady and gentle, and says: + +"The door ain't going to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and the +rod; but you'll be good, WON'T you? And you won't go? For MY sake." + +Laws knows I WANTED to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was all +intending to go; but after that I wouldn't a went, not for kingdoms. + +But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless. +And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped around +front, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with her +eyes towards the road and the tears in them; and I wished I could do +something for her, but I couldn't, only to swear that I wouldn't never do +nothing to grieve her any more. And the third time I waked up at dawn, +and slid down, and she was there yet, and her candle was most out, and +her old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep. + +CHAPTER XLII. + +THE old man was uptown again before breakfast, but couldn't get no track +of Tom; and both of them set at the table thinking, and not saying +nothing, and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold, and not +eating anything. And by and by the old man says: + +"Did I give you the letter?" + +"What letter?" + +"The one I got yesterday out of the post-office." + +"No, you didn't give me no letter." + +"Well, I must a forgot it." + +So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had +laid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her. She says: + +"Why, it's from St. Petersburg--it's from Sis." + +I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn't stir. But before +she could break it open she dropped it and run--for she see something. +And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress; and that old doctor; and +Jim, in HER calico dress, with his hands tied behind him; and a lot of +people. I hid the letter behind the first thing that come handy, and +rushed. She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says: + +"Oh, he's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead!" + +And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, +which showed he warn't in his right mind; then she flung up her hands, +and says: + +"He's alive, thank God! And that's enough!" and she snatched a kiss of +him, and flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering orders +right and left at the niggers and everybody else, as fast as her tongue +could go, every jump of the way. + +I followed the men to see what they was going to do with Jim; and the old +doctor and Uncle Silas followed after Tom into the house. The men was +very huffy, and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example to all the +other niggers around there, so they wouldn't be trying to run away like +Jim done, and making such a raft of trouble, and keeping a whole family +scared most to death for days and nights. But the others said, don't do +it, it wouldn't answer at all; he ain't our nigger, and his owner would +turn up and make us pay for him, sure. So that cooled them down a +little, because the people that's always the most anxious for to hang a +nigger that hain't done just right is always the very ones that ain't the +most anxious to pay for him when they've got their satisfaction out of +him. + +They cussed Jim considerble, though, and give him a cuff or two side the +head once in a while, but Jim never said nothing, and he never let on to +know me, and they took him to the same cabin, and put his own clothes on +him, and chained him again, and not to no bed-leg this time, but to a big +staple drove into the bottom log, and chained his hands, too, and both +legs, and said he warn't to have nothing but bread and water to eat after +this till his owner come, or he was sold at auction because he didn't +come in a certain length of time, and filled up our hole, and said a +couple of farmers with guns must stand watch around about the cabin every +night, and a bulldog tied to the door in the daytime; and about this time +they was through with the job and was tapering off with a kind of generl +good-bye cussing, and then the old doctor comes and takes a look, and +says: + +"Don't be no rougher on him than you're obleeged to, because he ain't a +bad nigger. When I got to where I found the boy I see I couldn't cut the +bullet out without some help, and he warn't in no condition for me to +leave to go and get help; and he got a little worse and a little worse, +and after a long time he went out of his head, and wouldn't let me come +a-nigh him any more, and said if I chalked his raft he'd kill me, and no +end of wild foolishness like that, and I see I couldn't do anything at +all with him; so I says, I got to have HELP somehow; and the minute I +says it out crawls this nigger from somewheres and says he'll help, and +he done it, too, and done it very well. Of course I judged he must be a +runaway nigger, and there I WAS! and there I had to stick right straight +along all the rest of the day and all night. It was a fix, I tell you! +I had a couple of patients with the chills, and of course I'd of liked to +run up to town and see them, but I dasn't, because the nigger might get +away, and then I'd be to blame; and yet never a skiff come close enough +for me to hail. So there I had to stick plumb until daylight this +morning; and I never see a nigger that was a better nuss or faithfuller, +and yet he was risking his freedom to do it, and was all tired out, too, +and I see plain enough he'd been worked main hard lately. I liked the +nigger for that; I tell you, gentlemen, a nigger like that is worth a +thousand dollars--and kind treatment, too. I had everything I needed, +and the boy was doing as well there as he would a done at home--better, +maybe, because it was so quiet; but there I WAS, with both of 'm on my +hands, and there I had to stick till about dawn this morning; then some +men in a skiff come by, and as good luck would have it the nigger was +setting by the pallet with his head propped on his knees sound asleep; so +I motioned them in quiet, and they slipped up on him and grabbed him and +tied him before he knowed what he was about, and we never had no trouble. +And the boy being in a kind of a flighty sleep, too, we muffled the oars +and hitched the raft on, and towed her over very nice and quiet, and the +nigger never made the least row nor said a word from the start. He ain't +no bad nigger, gentlemen; that's what I think about him." + +Somebody says: + +"Well, it sounds very good, doctor, I'm obleeged to say." + +Then the others softened up a little, too, and I was mighty thankful to +that old doctor for doing Jim that good turn; and I was glad it was +according to my judgment of him, too; because I thought he had a good +heart in him and was a good man the first time I see him. Then they all +agreed that Jim had acted very well, and was deserving to have some +notice took of it, and reward. So every one of them promised, right out +and hearty, that they wouldn't cuss him no more. + +Then they come out and locked him up. I hoped they was going to say he +could have one or two of the chains took off, because they was rotten +heavy, or could have meat and greens with his bread and water; but they +didn't think of it, and I reckoned it warn't best for me to mix in, but I +judged I'd get the doctor's yarn to Aunt Sally somehow or other as soon +as I'd got through the breakers that was laying just ahead of me-- +explanations, I mean, of how I forgot to mention about Sid being shot +when I was telling how him and me put in that dratted night paddling +around hunting the runaway nigger. + +But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sick-room all day and +all night, and every time I see Uncle Silas mooning around I dodged him. + +Next morning I heard Tom was a good deal better, and they said Aunt Sally +was gone to get a nap. So I slips to the sick-room, and if I found him +awake I reckoned we could put up a yarn for the family that would wash. +But he was sleeping, and sleeping very peaceful, too; and pale, not fire- +faced the way he was when he come. So I set down and laid for him to +wake. In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding in, and there I +was, up a stump again! She motioned me to be still, and set down by me, +and begun to whisper, and said we could all be joyful now, because all +the symptoms was first-rate, and he'd been sleeping like that for ever so +long, and looking better and peacefuller all the time, and ten to one +he'd wake up in his right mind. + +So we set there watching, and by and by he stirs a bit, and opened his +eyes very natural, and takes a look, and says: + +"Hello!--why, I'm at HOME! How's that? Where's the raft?" + +"It's all right," I says. + +"And JIM?" + +"The same," I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash. But he never +noticed, but says: + +"Good! Splendid! NOW we're all right and safe! Did you tell Aunty?" + +I was going to say yes; but she chipped in and says: "About what, Sid?" + +"Why, about the way the whole thing was done." + +"What whole thing?" + +"Why, THE whole thing. There ain't but one; how we set the runaway +nigger free--me and Tom." + +"Good land! Set the run--What IS the child talking about! Dear, dear, +out of his head again!" + +"NO, I ain't out of my HEAD; I know all what I'm talking about. We DID +set him free--me and Tom. We laid out to do it, and we DONE it. And we +done it elegant, too." He'd got a start, and she never checked him up, +just set and stared and stared, and let him clip along, and I see it +warn't no use for ME to put in. "Why, Aunty, it cost us a power of work +--weeks of it--hours and hours, every night, whilst you was all asleep. +And we had to steal candles, and the sheet, and the shirt, and your +dress, and spoons, and tin plates, and case-knives, and the warming-pan, +and the grindstone, and flour, and just no end of things, and you can't +think what work it was to make the saws, and pens, and inscriptions, and +one thing or another, and you can't think HALF the fun it was. And we +had to make up the pictures of coffins and things, and nonnamous letters +from the robbers, and get up and down the lightning-rod, and dig the hole +into the cabin, and made the rope ladder and send it in cooked up in a +pie, and send in spoons and things to work with in your apron pocket--" + +"Mercy sakes!" + +"--and load up the cabin with rats and snakes and so on, for company for +Jim; and then you kept Tom here so long with the butter in his hat that +you come near spiling the whole business, because the men come before we +was out of the cabin, and we had to rush, and they heard us and let drive +at us, and I got my share, and we dodged out of the path and let them go +by, and when the dogs come they warn't interested in us, but went for the +most noise, and we got our canoe, and made for the raft, and was all +safe, and Jim was a free man, and we done it all by ourselves, and WASN'T +it bully, Aunty!" + +"Well, I never heard the likes of it in all my born days! So it was YOU, +you little rapscallions, that's been making all this trouble, and turned +everybody's wits clean inside out and scared us all most to death. I've +as good a notion as ever I had in my life to take it out o' you this very +minute. To think, here I've been, night after night, a--YOU just get +well once, you young scamp, and I lay I'll tan the Old Harry out o' both +o' ye!" + +But Tom, he WAS so proud and joyful, he just COULDN'T hold in, and his +tongue just WENT it--she a-chipping in, and spitting fire all along, and +both of them going it at once, like a cat convention; and she says: + +"WELL, you get all the enjoyment you can out of it NOW, for mind I tell +you if I catch you meddling with him again--" + +"Meddling with WHO?" Tom says, dropping his smile and looking surprised. + +"With WHO? Why, the runaway nigger, of course. Who'd you reckon?" + +Tom looks at me very grave, and says: + +"Tom, didn't you just tell me he was all right? Hasn't he got away?" + +"HIM?" says Aunt Sally; "the runaway nigger? 'Deed he hasn't. They've +got him back, safe and sound, and he's in that cabin again, on bread and +water, and loaded down with chains, till he's claimed or sold!" + +Tom rose square up in bed, with his eye hot, and his nostrils opening and +shutting like gills, and sings out to me: + +"They hain't no RIGHT to shut him up! SHOVE!--and don't you lose a +minute. Turn him loose! he ain't no slave; he's as free as any cretur +that walks this earth!" + +"What DOES the child mean?" + +"I mean every word I SAY, Aunt Sally, and if somebody don't go, I'LL go. +I've knowed him all his life, and so has Tom, there. Old Miss Watson +died two months ago, and she was ashamed she ever was going to sell him +down the river, and SAID so; and she set him free in her will." + +"Then what on earth did YOU want to set him free for, seeing he was +already free?" + +"Well, that IS a question, I must say; and just like women! Why, I +wanted the ADVENTURE of it; and I'd a waded neck-deep in blood to-- +goodness alive, AUNT POLLY!" + +If she warn't standing right there, just inside the door, looking as +sweet and contented as an angel half full of pie, I wish I may never! + +Aunt Sally jumped for her, and most hugged the head off of her, and cried +over her, and I found a good enough place for me under the bed, for it +was getting pretty sultry for us, seemed to me. And I peeped out, and in +a little while Tom's Aunt Polly shook herself loose and stood there +looking across at Tom over her spectacles--kind of grinding him into the +earth, you know. And then she says: + +"Yes, you BETTER turn y'r head away--I would if I was you, Tom." + +"Oh, deary me!" says Aunt Sally; "IS he changed so? Why, that ain't TOM, +it's Sid; Tom's--Tom's--why, where is Tom? He was here a minute ago." + +"You mean where's Huck FINN--that's what you mean! I reckon I hain't +raised such a scamp as my Tom all these years not to know him when I SEE +him. That WOULD be a pretty howdy-do. Come out from under that bed, +Huck Finn." + +So I done it. But not feeling brash. + +Aunt Sally she was one of the mixed-upest-looking persons I ever see-- +except one, and that was Uncle Silas, when he come in and they told it +all to him. It kind of made him drunk, as you may say, and he didn't +know nothing at all the rest of the day, and preached a prayer-meeting +sermon that night that gave him a rattling ruputation, because the oldest +man in the world couldn't a understood it. So Tom's Aunt Polly, she told +all about who I was, and what; and I had to up and tell how I was in such +a tight place that when Mrs. Phelps took me for Tom Sawyer--she chipped +in and says, "Oh, go on and call me Aunt Sally, I'm used to it now, and +'tain't no need to change"--that when Aunt Sally took me for Tom Sawyer I +had to stand it--there warn't no other way, and I knowed he wouldn't +mind, because it would be nuts for him, being a mystery, and he'd make an +adventure out of it, and be perfectly satisfied. And so it turned out, +and he let on to be Sid, and made things as soft as he could for me. + +And his Aunt Polly she said Tom was right about old Miss Watson setting +Jim free in her will; and so, sure enough, Tom Sawyer had gone and took +all that trouble and bother to set a free nigger free! and I couldn't +ever understand before, until that minute and that talk, how he COULD +help a body set a nigger free with his bringing-up. + +Well, Aunt Polly she said that when Aunt Sally wrote to her that Tom and +SID had come all right and safe, she says to herself: + +"Look at that, now! I might have expected it, letting him go off that +way without anybody to watch him. So now I got to go and trapse all the +way down the river, eleven hundred mile, and find out what that creetur's +up to THIS time, as long as I couldn't seem to get any answer out of you +about it." + +"Why, I never heard nothing from you," says Aunt Sally. + +"Well, I wonder! Why, I wrote you twice to ask you what you could mean +by Sid being here." + +"Well, I never got 'em, Sis." + +Aunt Polly she turns around slow and severe, and says: + +"You, Tom!" + +"Well--WHAT?" he says, kind of pettish. + +"Don t you what ME, you impudent thing--hand out them letters." + +"What letters?" + +"THEM letters. I be bound, if I have to take a-holt of you I'll--" + +"They're in the trunk. There, now. And they're just the same as they +was when I got them out of the office. I hain't looked into them, I +hain't touched them. But I knowed they'd make trouble, and I thought if +you warn't in no hurry, I'd--" + +"Well, you DO need skinning, there ain't no mistake about it. And I +wrote another one to tell you I was coming; and I s'pose he--" + +"No, it come yesterday; I hain't read it yet, but IT'S all right, I've +got that one." + +I wanted to offer to bet two dollars she hadn't, but I reckoned maybe it +was just as safe to not to. So I never said nothing. + +CHAPTER THE LAST + +THE first time I catched Tom private I asked him what was his idea, time +of the evasion?--what it was he'd planned to do if the evasion worked all +right and he managed to set a nigger free that was already free before? +And he said, what he had planned in his head from the start, if we got +Jim out all safe, was for us to run him down the river on the raft, and +have adventures plumb to the mouth of the river, and then tell him about +his being free, and take him back up home on a steamboat, in style, and +pay him for his lost time, and write word ahead and get out all the +niggers around, and have them waltz him into town with a torchlight +procession and a brass-band, and then he would be a hero, and so would +we. But I reckoned it was about as well the way it was. + +We had Jim out of the chains in no time, and when Aunt Polly and Uncle +Silas and Aunt Sally found out how good he helped the doctor nurse Tom, +they made a heap of fuss over him, and fixed him up prime, and give him +all he wanted to eat, and a good time, and nothing to do. And we had him +up to the sick-room, and had a high talk; and Tom give Jim forty dollars +for being prisoner for us so patient, and doing it up so good, and Jim +was pleased most to death, and busted out, and says: + +"DAH, now, Huck, what I tell you?--what I tell you up dah on Jackson +islan'? I TOLE you I got a hairy breas', en what's de sign un it; en I +TOLE you I ben rich wunst, en gwineter to be rich AGIN; en it's come +true; en heah she is! DAH, now! doan' talk to ME--signs is SIGNS, mine I +tell you; en I knowed jis' 's well 'at I 'uz gwineter be rich agin as I's +a-stannin' heah dis minute!" + +And then Tom he talked along and talked along, and says, le's all three +slide out of here one of these nights and get an outfit, and go for +howling adventures amongst the Injuns, over in the Territory, for a +couple of weeks or two; and I says, all right, that suits me, but I ain't +got no money for to buy the outfit, and I reckon I couldn't get none from +home, because it's likely pap's been back before now, and got it all away +from Judge Thatcher and drunk it up. + +"No, he hain't," Tom says; "it's all there yet--six thousand dollars and +more; and your pap hain't ever been back since. Hadn't when I come away, +anyhow." + +Jim says, kind of solemn: + +"He ain't a-comin' back no mo', Huck." + +I says: + +"Why, Jim?" + +"Nemmine why, Huck--but he ain't comin' back no mo." + +But I kept at him; so at last he says: + +"Doan' you 'member de house dat was float'n down de river, en dey wuz a +man in dah, kivered up, en I went in en unkivered him and didn' let you +come in? Well, den, you kin git yo' money when you wants it, kase dat +wuz him." + +Tom's most well now, and got his bullet around his neck on a watch-guard +for a watch, and is always seeing what time it is, and so there ain't +nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd a +knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't a tackled it, and +ain't a-going to no more. But I reckon I got to light out for the +Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me +and sivilize me, and I can't stand it. I been there before. diff --git a/benchmarks/__init__.py b/benchmarks/__init__.py index 5723cd8..e69de29 100644 --- a/benchmarks/__init__.py +++ b/benchmarks/__init__.py @@ -1,116 +0,0 @@ -import random - -from fuzzysearch import find_near_matches -from fuzzysearch.levenshtein import \ - find_near_matches_levenshtein_linear_programming -from fuzzysearch.levenshtein_ngram import \ - find_near_matches_levenshtein_ngrams as fnm_levenshtein_ngrams -from fuzzysearch.substitutions_only import \ - find_near_matches_substitutions_ngrams as fnm_substitutions_ngrams, \ - find_near_matches_substitutions_lp, \ - has_near_match_substitutions_ngrams -from fuzzysearch._substitutions_only import \ - substitutions_only_has_near_matches_lp_byteslike, \ - substitutions_only_has_near_matches_ngrams_byteslike -from fuzzysearch.generic_search import \ - find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming, \ - find_near_matches_generic_ngrams, has_near_match_generic_ngrams -from fuzzysearch._generic_search import \ - c_find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming as \ - find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming_cython - - -def fnm_levenshtein_lp(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): - return list(find_near_matches_levenshtein_linear_programming( - subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist)) - -def fnm_substitutions_lp(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): - return list(find_near_matches_substitutions_lp( - subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions)) - -def fnm_generic_lp(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): - return list(find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming( - subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist)) - -def fnm_generic_lp_cython(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): - return list(find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming_cython( - subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist)) - -def fnm_generic_ngrams(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): - return list(find_near_matches_generic_ngrams( - subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist)) - -def hnm_generic_ngrams(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): - return has_near_match_generic_ngrams( - subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist) - -def hnm_substitutions_ngrams(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): - return has_near_match_substitutions_ngrams( - subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions) - -def hnm_substitutions_byteslike(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): - return substitutions_only_has_near_matches_lp_byteslike( - subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions) - -def hnm_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): - return substitutions_only_has_near_matches_ngrams_byteslike( - subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions) - - -search_functions = { - 'fnm': find_near_matches, - 'levenshtein_lp': fnm_levenshtein_lp, - 'levenshtein_ngrams': fnm_levenshtein_ngrams, - 'substitutions_lp': fnm_substitutions_lp, - 'substitutions_ngrams': fnm_substitutions_ngrams, - 'generic_lp': fnm_generic_lp, - 'generic_lp_cython': fnm_generic_lp_cython, - 'generic_ngrams': fnm_generic_ngrams, - 'has_match_generic_ngrams': hnm_generic_ngrams, - 'has_match_substitutions_ngrams': hnm_substitutions_ngrams, - 'has_match_substitutions_byteslike': hnm_substitutions_byteslike, - 'has_match_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike': hnm_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike, -} - -benchmarks = { - 'dna_no_match': dict( - subsequence = 'GCTAGCTAGCTA', - sequence = "ATCG" * (10**3), - max_dist = 1, - ), - 'dna_no_match2': dict( - subsequence = 'ATGATGATG', - sequence = 'ATCG' * (10**3), - max_dist = 2, - ), - 'random_kevin': dict( - subsequence = ''.join(random.choice('ATCG') for _i in xrange(36)), - sequence = ''.join(random.choice('ATCG' * 5 + 'N') for _i in xrange(90)), - max_dist = 3, - ), - 'random_kevin_partial_match': dict( - subsequence = 'AAGTCTAGT' + ''.join(random.choice('ATCG') for _i in xrange(36-9)), - sequence = 'AAGTCTAGT' + ''.join(random.choice('ATCG' * 5 + 'N') for _i in xrange(90-9)), - max_dist = 3, - ), -} - - -def get_benchmark(search_func_name, benchmark_name): - search_func = search_functions[search_func_name] - search_args = dict(benchmarks[benchmark_name]) - - if search_func in (find_near_matches,): - search_args['max_l_dist'] = search_args.pop('max_dist') - elif search_func in (fnm_levenshtein_ngrams, fnm_levenshtein_lp, fnm_generic_lp, fnm_generic_lp_cython, fnm_generic_ngrams, hnm_generic_ngrams): - search_args['max_l_dist'] = search_args.pop('max_dist') - elif search_func in (fnm_substitutions_ngrams, fnm_substitutions_lp, hnm_substitutions_ngrams, hnm_substitutions_byteslike, hnm_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike): - search_args['max_substitutions'] = search_args.pop('max_dist') - else: - raise Exception('Unsupported search function: %r' % search_func) - - return search_func, search_args - - -def run_benchmark(search_func, search_args): - return search_func(**search_args) diff --git a/benchmarks/__main__.py b/benchmarks/__main__.py index 66f5b70..ac7e395 100644 --- a/benchmarks/__main__.py +++ b/benchmarks/__main__.py @@ -1,45 +1,5 @@ -import textwrap -import timeit -import argparse -from benchmarks import benchmarks, search_functions +import sys +from .main import main -def print_results(timings, number, repeat, precision=3): - best = min(timings) - - usec = best * 1e6 / number - if usec < 1000: - x = "best of %d: %.*g usec per loop" % (repeat, precision, usec) - else: - msec = usec / 1000 - if msec < 1000: - x = "best of %d: %.*g msec per loop" % (repeat, precision, msec) - else: - sec = msec / 1000 - x = "best of %d: %.*g sec per loop" % (repeat, precision, sec) - - print("%d loops, " % number + x) - - -parser = argparse.ArgumentParser(description='Run fuzzysearch benchmarks.') - -parser.add_argument('search_function', choices=search_functions) -parser.add_argument('benchmark', choices=benchmarks) -parser.add_argument('-r', '--repetitions', type=int, default=5, - help='number of times to run the benchmark') -parser.add_argument('-n', '--number', type=int, default=10**5, - help='number of loop iterations to run in each repetition') - - -args = parser.parse_args() - -setup = textwrap.dedent('''\ - from benchmarks import get_benchmark, run_benchmark - search_func, search_args = get_benchmark({search_function!r}, - {benchmark!r}) -''').format(**args.__dict__) - -code = 'run_benchmark(search_func, search_args)' - -timings = timeit.Timer(code, setup=setup).repeat(args.repetitions, args.number) -print_results(timings, args.number, args.repetitions) +sys.exit(main()) diff --git a/benchmarks/book.py b/benchmarks/book.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fcaef0a --- /dev/null +++ b/benchmarks/book.py @@ -0,0 +1,22 @@ +import contextlib +import io +import os.path + +from fuzzysearch import find_near_matches_in_file + + +book_file_path = os.path.join( + os.path.dirname(__file__), + 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.txt', +) + + +def search(substring, max_l_dist, as_binary=False): + if as_binary: + f = open(book_file_path, 'rb') + else: + f = io.open(book_file_path, encoding='utf-8') + + with contextlib.closing(f): + for match in find_near_matches_in_file(substring, f, max_l_dist=max_l_dist): + pass diff --git a/benchmarks/dna_search.py b/benchmarks/dna_search.py index 57fae5d..9bb65f6 100644 --- a/benchmarks/dna_search.py +++ b/benchmarks/dna_search.py @@ -1,6 +1,19 @@ +from __future__ import print_function + +import sys +import textwrap import timeit -print timeit.timeit( - 'find_near_matches_levenshtein_ngrams(pattern, text, 1)', - setup='text = "ATCG" * (10**3); pattern = "GCTAGCTAGCTA"; from fuzzysearch import find_near_matches_levenshtein_ngrams', -) + +rc = timeit.main(args=( + '-s', textwrap.dedent('''\ + from fuzzysearch.levenshtein_ngram import \ + find_near_matches_levenshtein_ngrams + + text = "ATCG" * (10**7) + pattern = "GCTAGCTAGCTA" + '''), + 'list(find_near_matches_levenshtein_ngrams(pattern, text, 1))', +)) + +sys.exit(rc) \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/benchmarks/main.py b/benchmarks/main.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d8315b --- /dev/null +++ b/benchmarks/main.py @@ -0,0 +1,91 @@ +from __future__ import print_function + +import textwrap +import timeit +import argparse +from .micro_benchmarks import benchmarks, search_functions + + +def print_results(timings, number, repeat, precision=3): + best = min(timings) + + usec = best * 1e6 / number + if usec < 1000: + x = "best of %d: %.*g usec per loop" % (repeat, precision, usec) + else: + msec = usec / 1000 + if msec < 1000: + x = "best of %d: %.*g msec per loop" % (repeat, precision, msec) + else: + sec = msec / 1000 + x = "best of %d: %.*g sec per loop" % (repeat, precision, sec) + + print("%d loops, " % number + x) + + +def autorange(timer): + for i in range(10): + number = 10 ** i + time_taken = timer.timeit(number) + if time_taken >= 0.5: + break + return number + + +def main(): + parser = argparse.ArgumentParser(description='Run fuzzysearch benchmarks.') + + parser.add_argument('-r', '--repetitions', type=int, default=3, + help='number of times to run the benchmark') + parser.add_argument('-n', '--number', type=int, + help='number of loop iterations to run in each repetition') + + subparsers = parser.add_subparsers(help='sub-command help', dest='subparser_name') + + micro_parser = subparsers.add_parser('micro', help='micro-benchmarks') + micro_parser.add_argument('search_function', choices=search_functions) + micro_parser.add_argument('benchmark', choices=benchmarks) + + book_parser = subparsers.add_parser('book', help='search through the text of a long book') + book_parser.add_argument('substring', type=str, required=True) + book_parser.add_argument('max_l_dist', type=int, required=True) + + args = parser.parse_args() + + setup = None + code = None + + if args.subparser_name == 'micro': + setup = textwrap.dedent('''\ + from benchmarks.micro_benchmarks import get_benchmark, run_benchmark + search_func, search_args = get_benchmark({search_function!r}, + {benchmark!r}) + ''').format(**args.__dict__) + code = 'run_benchmark(search_func, search_args)' + elif args.subparser_name == 'book': + setup = textwrap.dedent('''\ + from benchmarks.book import search + ''') + code = 'search({substring!r}, {max_l_dist!r})'.format(**args.__dict__) + + timer = timeit.Timer(code, setup=setup) + try: + if args.number is None: + args.number = autorange(timer) + timings = timer.repeat(args.repetitions, args.number) + except KeyboardInterrupt: + print('Aborted!') + except Exception: + import traceback + traceback.print_exc() + return 1 + else: + print_results(timings, args.number, args.repetitions) + + return 0 + + +if __name__ == '__main__': + import sys + + sys.exit(main()) diff --git a/benchmarks/micro_benchmarks.py b/benchmarks/micro_benchmarks.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c117c91 --- /dev/null +++ b/benchmarks/micro_benchmarks.py @@ -0,0 +1,119 @@ +import random + +from fuzzysearch.common import LevenshteinSearchParams +from fuzzysearch.compat import xrange + +from fuzzysearch import find_near_matches +from fuzzysearch.levenshtein import \ + find_near_matches_levenshtein_linear_programming +from fuzzysearch.levenshtein_ngram import \ + find_near_matches_levenshtein_ngrams as fnm_levenshtein_ngrams +from fuzzysearch.substitutions_only import \ + find_near_matches_substitutions_ngrams as fnm_substitutions_ngrams, \ + find_near_matches_substitutions_lp, \ + has_near_match_substitutions_ngrams +from fuzzysearch._substitutions_only import \ + substitutions_only_has_near_matches_lp_byteslike, \ + substitutions_only_has_near_matches_ngrams_byteslike +from fuzzysearch.generic_search import \ + find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming, \ + find_near_matches_generic_ngrams, has_near_match_generic_ngrams +from fuzzysearch._generic_search import \ + c_find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming as \ + find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming_cython + + +def fnm_levenshtein_lp(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): + return list(find_near_matches_levenshtein_linear_programming( + subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist)) + +def fnm_substitutions_lp(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): + return list(find_near_matches_substitutions_lp( + subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions)) + +def fnm_generic_lp(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): + return list(find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming( + subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist)) + +def fnm_generic_lp_cython(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): + return list(find_near_matches_generic_linear_programming_cython( + subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist)) + +def fnm_generic_ngrams(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): + return list(find_near_matches_generic_ngrams( + subsequence, sequence, LevenshteinSearchParams(max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist))) + +def hnm_generic_ngrams(subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist): + return has_near_match_generic_ngrams( + subsequence, sequence, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist, max_l_dist) + +def hnm_substitutions_ngrams(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): + return has_near_match_substitutions_ngrams( + subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions) + +def hnm_substitutions_byteslike(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): + return substitutions_only_has_near_matches_lp_byteslike( + subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions) + +def hnm_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike(subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions): + return substitutions_only_has_near_matches_ngrams_byteslike( + subsequence, sequence, max_substitutions) + + +search_functions = { + 'fnm': find_near_matches, + 'levenshtein_lp': fnm_levenshtein_lp, + 'levenshtein_ngrams': fnm_levenshtein_ngrams, + 'substitutions_lp': fnm_substitutions_lp, + 'substitutions_ngrams': fnm_substitutions_ngrams, + 'generic_lp': fnm_generic_lp, + 'generic_lp_cython': fnm_generic_lp_cython, + 'generic_ngrams': fnm_generic_ngrams, + 'has_match_generic_ngrams': hnm_generic_ngrams, + 'has_match_substitutions_ngrams': hnm_substitutions_ngrams, + 'has_match_substitutions_byteslike': hnm_substitutions_byteslike, + 'has_match_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike': hnm_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike, +} + +benchmarks = { + 'dna_no_match': dict( + subsequence = 'GCTAGCTAGCTA', + sequence = "ATCG" * (10**3), + max_dist = 1, + ), + 'dna_no_match2': dict( + subsequence = 'ATGATGATG', + sequence = 'ATCG' * (10**3), + max_dist = 2, + ), + 'random_kevin': dict( + subsequence = ''.join(random.choice('ATCG') for _i in xrange(36)), + sequence = ''.join(random.choice('ATCG' * 5 + 'N') for _i in xrange(90)), + max_dist = 3, + ), + 'random_kevin_partial_match': dict( + subsequence = 'AAGTCTAGT' + ''.join(random.choice('ATCG') for _i in xrange(36-9)), + sequence = 'AAGTCTAGT' + ''.join(random.choice('ATCG' * 5 + 'N') for _i in xrange(90-9)), + max_dist = 3, + ), +} + + +def get_benchmark(search_func_name, benchmark_name): + search_func = search_functions[search_func_name] + search_args = dict(benchmarks[benchmark_name]) + + if search_func in (find_near_matches,): + search_args['max_l_dist'] = search_args.pop('max_dist') + elif search_func in (fnm_levenshtein_ngrams, fnm_levenshtein_lp, fnm_generic_lp, fnm_generic_lp_cython, fnm_generic_ngrams, hnm_generic_ngrams): + search_args['max_l_dist'] = search_args.pop('max_dist') + elif search_func in (fnm_substitutions_ngrams, fnm_substitutions_lp, hnm_substitutions_ngrams, hnm_substitutions_byteslike, hnm_substitutions_ngrams_byteslike): + search_args['max_substitutions'] = search_args.pop('max_dist') + else: + raise Exception('Unsupported search function: %r' % search_func) + + return search_func, search_args + + +def run_benchmark(search_func, search_args): + return search_func(**search_args)