Mark Twain ..............................................................................................................................................1

PERSONS attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral

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

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

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 sugarhogshead 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

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

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 abothering 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

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 spellingbook. 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,

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, whowhooing about somebody that was dead, and a

whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper

something to me, and I couldn't make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me. Then

away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something

that's on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that

way every night grieving. I got so downhearted and scared I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a

spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it

was all shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me

some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks

three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep

witches away. But I hadn't no confidence. You do that when you've lost a horseshoe that you've found,

instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn't ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad luck

I set down again, ashaking 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 "meyow! meyow !" down there. That was good! Says I, "meyow ! meyow!" 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.

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

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

"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

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

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

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 bewitched

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 saddleboils. 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 fivecenter 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 fivecenter piece; but

they wouldn't touch it, because the devil had had his hands on it. Jim was most ruined for a servant, because

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

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

"Now, we'll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer's Gang. Everybody that wants to join has got to

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 piratebooks and robberbooks, and every gang that was hightoned had it.

Some thought it would be good to kill the FAMILIES of boys that told the secrets. Tom said it was a good

"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

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

Then they all stuck a pin in their fingers to get blood to sign with, and I made my mark on the paper.

"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

"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."

"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."

"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

"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

"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

"How you talk, Ben Rogers. How can they get loose when there's a guard over them, ready to shoot them

"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

"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

"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

"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

Little Tommy Barnes was asleep now, and when they waked him up he was scared, and cried, and said he

So they all made fun of him, and called him crybaby, 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

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

I clumb up the shed and crept into my window just before day was breaking. My new clothes was all greased

WELL, I got a good goingover 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 fishline, 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 agoing to be any better off then than what he was before, seeing I was so ignorant, and so kind

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 hogdrivers 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 Arabs 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 turnipcart 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 Arabs, 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 Arabs, and there warn't no camels nor no elephants. It warn't anything but a Sundayschool

picnic, and only a primerclass 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 hymnbook

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 Arabs

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 Sundayschool, 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

"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?"

"Why, they rub an old tin lamp or an iron ring, and then the genies come tearing in, with the thunder and

lightning aripping around and the smoke arolling, and everything they're told to do they up and do it. They

don't think nothing of pulling a shottower up by the roots, and belting a Sundayschool superintendent over

"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

chewinggum, 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 sunup next morning, too. And more: they've got to waltz that

"Well," says I, "I think they are a pack of flatheads 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

"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

"Shucks, it ain't no use to talk to you, Huck Finn. You don't seem to know anything, somehow perfect

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 Arabs and the elephants, but

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 thirtyfive, and I don't reckon I could ever get any further than that if I was to live forever. I don't

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

One morning I happened to turn over the saltcellar 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 lowspirited and on the watchout.

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

I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my shoulder every now and then, but I didn't

"Oh, yes, a halfyearly 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

I says, "Don't you ask me no questions about it, please. You'll take it won't you?"

"Please take it," says I, "and don't ask me nothing then I won't have to tell no lies."

"Ohoo! I think I see. You want to SELL all your property to me not give it. That's the correct idea."

"There; you see it says 'for a consideration.' That means I have bought it of you and paid you for it. Here's a

Miss Watson's nigger, Jim, had a hairball 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 hairball 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 hairball 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 hairball

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 hairball. Well, I knowed a potato would do that

Jim put the quarter under the hairball, and got down and listened again. This time he said the hairball was all

right. He said it would tell my whole fortune if I wanted it to. I says, go on. So the hairball talked to Jim, and

"Yo' ole father doan' know yit what he's agwyne 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

When I lit my candle and went up to my room that night there sat pap his own self!

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

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, mixedup

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 treetoad white, a fishbelly

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

I stood alooking at him; he set there alooking 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 alooking me all over. By and

"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

"The widow, hey? and who told the widow she could put in her shovel about a thing that ain't none of 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 aswelling yourself up like

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

"AIN'T you a sweetscented 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

"Looky here mind how you talk to me; I'm astanding 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

"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

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

Next day he was drunk, and he went to Judge Thatcher's and bullyragged him, and tried to make him give up

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

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 ablowing 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 agoing 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 agoing 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 ahold 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 porchroof and slid down a stanchion and traded his new coat

for a jug of fortyrod, 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 sunup. And when they come to look at that spare room they had to

The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform the old man with a shotgun, maybe,

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 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

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 woodsaw 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 horseblanket 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

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'shisname when

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

The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had got. There was a fiftypound sack of corn

meal, and a side of bacon, ammunition, and a fourgallon 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

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. his time he says:

"Call this a govment! why, just look at it and see what it's like. Here's the law astanding 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 anear 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'

stovepipe. Look at it, says I such a hat for me to wear one of the wealthiest men in this town if I could

"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 silverheaded cane the awfulest old grayheaded 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 acoming 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 stockstill for six whole months before it can take a hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal,

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

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

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 ahold 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 abegging; and then he went to crying. I could hear

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 claspknife, 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,

So he dozed off pretty soon. By and by I got the old splitbottom 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

I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to make out where I was. It was after sunup, and I had been

"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

He unlocked the door, and I cleared out up the riverbank. 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 woodyards 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 headfirst 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

driftcanoe 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

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

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

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

"Another time a man comes aprowling round here you roust me out, you hear? That man warn't here for no

Then he dropped down and went to sleep again; but what he had been saying give me the very idea I wanted.

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 halfpast 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 whiskyjug. 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 coffeepot. I took fishlines 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

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

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

I took the axe and smashed in the door. I beat it and hacked it considerable adoing 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

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 claspknife 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

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

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 aslipping along, black and still,

hundreds of yards out from shore. Everything was dead quiet, and it looked late, and SMELT late. You know

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 acoming, 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 aswinging 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

I didn't lose no time. The next minute I was aspinning 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

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

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 lumberraft 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.

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

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

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 cannonsmoke 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 lowdown cornpone.

I got a good place amongst the leaves, and set there on a log, munching the bread and watching the ferryboat,

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

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

"Look sharp, now; the current sets in the closest here, and maybe he's washed ashore and got tangled amongst

"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 firstrate, 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

I knowed I was all right now. Nobody else would come ahunting 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

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

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 goodsized 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

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,

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

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

PLUNKETYPLUNK, PLUNKETYPLUNK, 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

"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

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

agoing 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

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

He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees, and puts his hands together and

"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'

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

"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

"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

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 coffeepot and fryingpan, 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,

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

"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

"Well, dey's reasons. But you wouldn' tell on me ef I uz to tell you, would you, Huck?"

"Well, I did. I said I wouldn't, and I'll stick to it. Honest INJUN, I will. People would call me a lowdown

Abolitionist and despise me for keeping mum but that don't make no difference. I ain't agoing to tell, and

"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

"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 astirring yit, so I hid in de ole tumbledown coopershop 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 agoin' 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

"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 campmeet' 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

"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 acomin' 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 driftwood, 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 aholt. 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 arisin', en dey wuz a good current; so I reck'n'd 'at by fo' in de mawnin' I'd be

twentyfive mile down de river, en den I'd slip in jis b'fo' daylight en swim asho', en take to de woods on de

"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 dogleg, en some matches in my cap, en dey warn't wet, so I 'uz all

"And so you ain't had no meat nor bread to eat all this time? Why didn't you get mudturkles?"

"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

"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

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 tablecloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive and that

man died, the bees must be told about it before sunup 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

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

"Mighty few an' DEY ain't no use to a body. What you want to know when good luck's acomin' 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

"No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich agin. Wunst I had foteen dollars, but I tuck to specalat'n', en

"Why, live stock cattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But I ain' gwyne to resk no mo' money in

"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."

"Yes. You know that onelaigged 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 thirtyfive at de

"So I done it. Den I reck'n'd I'd inves' de thirtyfive dollars right off en keep things amovin'. Dey wuz a

nigger name' Bob, dat had ketched a woodflat, en his marster didn' know it; en I bought it off'n him en told

him to take de thirtyfive dollars when de en' er de year come; but somebody stole de woodflat dat night, en

nex day de onelaigged nigger say de bank's busted. So dey didn' none uv us git no money."

"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

"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

"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

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 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 blueblack outside, and lovely; and the

rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees off a little ways looked dim and spiderwebby; 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 treetops aplunging 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

"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

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

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 brokendown 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.

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 sawlogs go by in the daylight sometimes, but we let them go; we didn't show ourselves in

Another night when we was up at the head of the island, just before daylight, here comes a framehouse

down, on the west side. She was a twostory, 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

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

"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.

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 sunbonnet, 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 butcherknife without any handle, and a brannew 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 dogcollar, 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 currycomb, and Jim he found a

ratty old fiddlebow, 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

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

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 aha' 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

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

"Now you think it's bad luck; but what did you say when I fetched in the snakeskin 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 snakeskin with

my hands. Well, here's your bad luck! We've raked in all this truck and eight dollars besides. I wish we could

"Never you mind, honey, never you mind. Don't you git too peart. It's acomin'. Mind I tell you, it's

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 whiskyjug 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

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

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 aholt of a snakeskin 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 snakeskin 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 snakeskin 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 shottower, 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,

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 markethouse there; everybody buys some of him; his meat's as white as snow and makes

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

trouserlegs to my knees and got into it. Jim hitched it behind with the hooks, and it was a fair fit. I put on

the sunbonnet 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 stovepipe. 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 britchespocket. I took notice, and done

I started across to the town from a little below the ferrylanding, 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.

"No'm. In Hookerville, seven mile below. I've walked all the way and I'm all tired out."

"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

"No; but I don't know everybody yet. I haven't lived here quite two weeks. It's a considerable ways to the

"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

"Well, I reckon there's a right smart chance of people HERE that'd like to know who killed him. Some think

"Most everybody thought it at first. He'll never know how nigh he come to getting lynched. But before night

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

boohooing 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

hardlooking 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

"Yes, I reckon so, 'm. I don't see nothing in the way of it. Has everybody guit 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

"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 today, 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

"Three hundred dollars is a power of money. I wish my mother could get it. Is your husband going over there

"Oh, yes. He went uptown with the man I was telling you of, to get a boat and see if they could borrow

"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."

The woman kept looking at me pretty curious, and I didn't feel a bit comfortable. Pretty soon she says"

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:

"Oh, yes'm, I did. Sarah Mary Williams. Sarah's my first name. Some calls me Sarah, some calls me Mary."

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 firstrate, 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

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

"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

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 aplenty. I said I believed my uncle Abner Moore would take care of me, and so that was

"Goshen, child? This ain't Goshen. This is St. Petersburg. Goshen's ten mile further up the river. Who told

"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."

"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

"Say, when a cow's laying down, which end of her gets up first? Answer up prompt now don't stop to

"If fifteen cows is browsing on a hillside, how many of them eats with their heads pointed the same

"Well, I reckon you HAVE lived in the country. I thought maybe you was trying to hocus me again. What's

"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 stiffarmed 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 upstream far enough to make

the head of the island, and then started across. I took off the sunbonnet, 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

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

"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,

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,

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 fishingline, 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

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

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 cavein in the bank there. A towhead is a sandbar that has cottonwoods on it as thick as

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 upbound 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 uptown 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

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 steeringoar, 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 downstream, to keep from

getting run over; but we wouldn't have to light it for upstream 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 upbound

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

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

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

We shot a waterfowl now and then that got up too early in the morning or didn't go to bed early enough in

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, "HelLO, 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 chimblyguy clean and clear, and a chair by the big bell,

Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysteriouslike, 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:

"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

"Watchman your grandmother," I says; "there ain't nothing to watch but the texas and the pilothouse; and do

you reckon anybody's going to resk his life for a texas and a pilothouse 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 KingdomCome. 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

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 texashall 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

"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

By this time Jim was gone for the raft. I was just abiling with curiosity; and I says to myself, Tom Sawyer

wouldn't back out now, and so I won't either; I'm agoing 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 crosshall 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.

The man on the floor would shrivel up and say, "Oh, please don't, Bill; I hain't ever goin' to tell."

"'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 agoin' to threaten nobody any more,

"I don't want to, Jake Packard. I'm for killin' him and didn't he kill old Hatfield jist the same way and

"Bless yo' heart for them words, Jake Packard! I'll never forgit you long's I live!" says the man on the floor,

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 apawing along in the dark, and when Packard got to my stateroom, he says:

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.

"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

"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.

"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 agoin' 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?"

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

"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,

"Oh, my lordy, lordy! RAF'? Dey ain' no raf' no mo'; she done broke loose en gone I en here we is!"

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

aquaking 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 crosshall 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

He flung a bag of something into the boat, and then got in himself and set down. It was Packard. Then Bill

The door slammed to because it was on the careened side; and in a half second I was in the boat, and Jim

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 paddlebox, 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

When we was three or four hundred yards downstream 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

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

"The first light we see we'll land a hundred yards below it or above it, in a place where it's a good

hidingplace 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 doublehull ferryboat. I skimmed around for the watchman, awondering whereabouts he slept;

found him roosting on the bitts forward, with his head down between his knees. I gave his shoulder two or

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

"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

"Yes," he says, kind of prettywellsatisfied like. "I'm the captain and the owner and the mate and the pilot

and watchman and head deckhand; 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

"Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your ferryboat and go up there "

"I bet they didn't! Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em if they don't git off mighty quick! Why,

"She was avisiting there at Booth's Landing, and just in the edge of the evening she started over with her

nigger woman in the horseferry to stay all night at her friend's house, Miss Whatyoumaycallher�I

disremember her name and they lost their steeringoar, and swung around and went afloating down, stern

first, about two mile, and saddlebaggsed 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 tradingscow, and it was so dark we didn't notice the wreck till we was

right on it; and so WE saddlebaggsed; but all of us was saved but Bill Whipple and oh, he WAS the best

"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

"By Jackson, I'd LIKE to, and, blame it, I don't know but I will; but who in the dingnation's agoing' to PAY

"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 yonderway, 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 agoing up around the

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 heavyhearted about the gang, but not much, for I reckoned if they could stand it I

Then here comes the ferryboat; so I shoved for the middle of the river on a long downstream slant; and

when I judged I was out of eyereach 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

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.

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

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,

"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

"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

"Yes," says I, "and other times, when things is dull, they fuss with the parlyment; and if everybody don't go

"The place where he keeps his wives. Don't you know about the harem? Solomon had one; he had about a

"Why, yes, dat's so; I I'd done forgot it. A harem's a bo'd'nhouse, 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 blimblammin' all de time? No 'deed he wouldn't. A wise man 'ud take en buil' a

"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 dadfetchedes' ways I

"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

"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

"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.

"Well, I don't know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns people how to talk French."

"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

"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

"Shucks, it ain't calling you anything. It's only saying, do you know how to talk French?"

"Well, it's a blame ridicklous way, en I doan' want to hear no mo' 'bout it. Dey ain' no sense in it."

"Well, then, why ain't it natural and right for a FRENCHMAN to talk different from us? You answer me

"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?"

"Well, den, she ain't got no business to talk like either one er the yuther of 'em. Is a Frenchman a man?"

I see it warn't no use wasting words you can't learn a nigger to argue. So I quit.

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

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

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 downstream, 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

The whooping went on, and in about a minute I come abooming 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,

In another second or two it was solid white and still again. I set perfectly still then, listening to my heart

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

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

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 Jacko'lantern. You never knowed a sound

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

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

But I reckon it was more than a catnap, 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 downstream, 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 steeringoar. The other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and

I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and began to gap, and stretch my fists out against Jim,

"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 !"

"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

"Well, I think you're here, plain enough, but I think you're a tangleheaded 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 towhead ?"

"You hain't seen no towhead? Looky here, didn't de line pull loose en de raf' go ahummin' down de river, en

"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,

"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."

"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

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

"Oh, well, that's all right, because a dream does tire a body like everything sometimes. But this one was a

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

It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar. You could see them firstrate 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

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

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

flagpole at each end. There was a power of style about her. It AMOUNTED to something being a raftsman

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 tradingscow, 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

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:

But it warn't. It was Jacko'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

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

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 flatfooted 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!"

He jumped and got the canoe ready, and put his old coat in the bottom for me to set on, and give me the

"Pooty soon I'll be ashout'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

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

"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

"Well, there's five niggers run off tonight up yonder, above the head of the bend. Is your man white or

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

"I wish you would," says I, "because it's pap that's there, and maybe you'd help me tow the raft ashore where

"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

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

"Well, that's infernal mean. Odd, too. Say, boy, what's the matter with your father?"

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 anear 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 smallpox, 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, ablubbering, "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 smallpox, 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

lefthand side of the river. It will be long after sunup 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 woodyard. Say, I reckon your father's poor, and I'm

bound to say he's in pretty hard luck. Here, I'll put a twentydollar 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 smallpox, don't

"Hold on, Parker," says the other man, "here's a twenty to put on the board for me. Goodbye, boy; you do as

"That's so, my boy goodbye, goodbye. If you see any runaway niggers you get help and nab them, and

"Goodbye, 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:

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

"I was alistenin' 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,

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

That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town away down in a lefthand 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 trotline.

"If you want to know, go and find out. If you stay here botherin' around me for about a half a minute longer

I paddled to the raft. Jim was awful disappointed, but I said never mind, Cairo would be the next place, I

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

"Doan' le's talk about it, Huck. Po' niggers can't have no luck. I awluz 'spected dat rattlesnakeskin warn't

"I wish I'd never seen that snakeskin, Jim I do wish I'd never laid eyes on it."

When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sure enough, and outside was the old regular

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

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 rattlesnakeskin; 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

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 that don't believe yet that it's foolishness to handle a snakeskin, after all that that snakeskin done

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. Upstream boats

didn't generly come close to us; they go out and follow the bars and hunt for easy water under the reefs; but

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 glowworms around it; but all of

a sudden she bulged out, big and scary, with a long row of wideopen furnace doors shining like redhot

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

I dived and I aimed to find the bottom, too, for a thirtyfoot 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 lefthand shore, which meant that I was in a crossing; so I changed off and

It was one of these long, slanting, twomile 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 oldfashioned double loghouse 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

IN about a minute somebody spoke out of a window without putting his head out, and says:

"I don't want nothing, sir. I only want to go along by, but the dogs won't let me."

"Oh, you did, did you? Strike a light there, somebody. What did you say your name was?"

"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

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

"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."

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 grayheaded

lady, and back of her two young women which I couldn't see right well. The old gentleman says:

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

"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?"

"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 frowzyheaded. He came in gaping and digging one fist

"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

When we got upstairs 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.

"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 cornpone, cold cornbeef, 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

"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

I set it down, private, because somebody might want ME to spell it next, and so I wanted to be handy with 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 waterpaint that they call Spanishbrown, same as they do in

town. They had big brass dogirons that could hold up a sawlog. 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

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 wildturkeywing fans spread out

behind those things. On the table in the middle of the room was a kind of a lovely crockery basket that bad

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

This table had a cover made out of beautiful oilcloth, with a red and blue spreadeagle 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 splitbottom chairs, and perfectly sound, too not bagged down in the

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

scoopshovel 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 chairback, 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 fantods. 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

This young girl kept a scrapbook 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

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

scrapbook 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

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 darkishpaly 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 tailcoat

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 libertypole, 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

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

When him and the old lady come down in the morning all the family got up out of their chairs and give them

goodday, 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

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

Then there was Miss Charlotte; she was twentyfive, 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

So was her sister, Miss Sophia, but it was a different kind. She was gentle and sweet like a dove, and she was

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

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

There was another clan of aristocracy around there five or six families mostly of the name of

Shepherdson. They was as hightoned 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

One day Buck and me was away out in the woods hunting, and heard a horse coming. We was crossing the

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

"I don't like that shooting from behind a bush. Why didn't you step into the road, my boy?"

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

Soon as I could get Buck down by the corncribs under the trees by ourselves, I says:

"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

"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

"Oh, yes, pa knows, I reckon, and some of the other old people; but they don't know now what the row was

"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

"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 acoming behind him, and sees old Baldy Shepherdson

alinkin' after him with his gun in his hand and his white hair aflying in the wind; and 'stead of jumping off

and taking to the brush, Bud 'lowed he could outrun him; so they had it, nip and tuck, for five mile or more,

the old man againing 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

"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 ahorseback; 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

Next Sunday we all went to church, about three mile, everybody ahorseback. 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 suchlike

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 summertime because it's cool. If you notice, most folks don't

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 "HALFPAST 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 coarsehand," and then she said the paper warn't anything but a bookmark to keep her place,

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

"Mars Jawge, if you'll come down into de swamp I'll show you a whole stack o' watermoccasins."

Thinks I, that's mighty curious; he said that yesterday. He oughter know a body don't love watermoccasins

I followed a half a mile; then he struck out over the swamp, and waded ankle deep as much as another

halfmile. We come to a little flat piece of land which was dry and very thick with trees and bushes and

"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

Then he slopped right along and went away, and pretty soon the trees hid him. I poked into the place aways

and come to a little open patch as big as a bedroom all hung around with vines, and found a man laying there

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

"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 agitt'n

"Well, 'twarn't no use to 'sturb you, Huck, tell we could do sumfn but we's all right now. I ben abuyin' pots

"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 punkinheads, 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'

"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 watermoccasins.

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

agoing 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, awondering, and goes

down stairs nobody around; everything as still as a mouse. Just the same outside. Thinks I, what does it

"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."

"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

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 woodrank four foot high a little ways in front of the tree, and first I was going to hide

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 woodrank 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

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 woodrank, 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

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 agoing 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

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 agoing 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 halfpast 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

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, redhot 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 twentyfive foot from me says:

It was Jim's voice nothing ever sounded so good before. I run along the bank a piece and got aboard, and

"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

"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

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 corndodgers 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

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 acluttering, 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 logcabin 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 songbirds just

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 upstream, so far off towards the other side you couldn't tell nothing about her only whether she was a

sternwheel or sidewheel; 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:

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

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

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

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

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 acoming. They wanted to jump right

"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

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 batteredup slouch hat on, and a greasy blue woollen shirt, and ragged old blue jeans britches stuffed into

his boottops, and homeknit galluses no, he only had one. He had an old longtailed blue jeans coat

with slick brass buttons flung over his arm, and both of them had big, fat, rattylooking carpetbags.

The other fellow was about thirty, and dressed about as ornery. After breakfast we all laid off and talked, and

"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

"Well, I'd ben arunning' 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 agrowin' 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

"Old man," said the young one, "I reckon we might doubleteam it together; what do you think?"

"Jour printer by trade; do a little in patent medicines; theateractor tragedy, you know; take a turn to

mesmerism and phrenology when there's a chance; teach singinggeography 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

"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' campmeetin's, and missionaryin' around."

Nobody never said anything for a while; then the young man hove a sigh and says:

"To think I should have lived to be leading such a life, and be degraded down into such company." And he

"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 awiping.

"Drot your pore broken heart," says the baldhead; "what are you heaving your pore broken heart at US f'r?

"No, I know you haven't. I ain't blaming you, gentlemen. I brought myself down yes, I did it myself. It's

"Ah, you would not believe me; the world never believes let it pass 'tis no matter. The secret of my

"Gentlemen," says the young man, very solemn, "I will reveal it to you, for I feel I may have confidence in

Jim's eyes bugged out when he heard that; and I reckon mine did, too. Then the baldhead says: "No! you can't

"Yes. My greatgrandfather, 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, heartbroken,

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

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

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

"Looky here, Bilgewater," he says, "I'm nation sorry for you, but you ain't the only person that's had troubles

"No you ain't. You ain't the only person that's ben snaked down wrongfully out'n a high place."

"No, you ain't the only person that's had a secret of his birth." And, by jings, HE begins to cry.

"To the bitter death!" He took the old man by the hand and squeezed it, and says, "That secret of your being:

"Yes, my friend, it is too true your eyes is lookin' at this very moment on the pore disappeared Dauphin,

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,

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

greatgrandfather 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

"Like as not we got to be together a blamed long time on this hyer 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

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

It didn't take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn't no kings nor dukes at all, but just lowdown

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

THEY asked us considerable many questions; wanted to know what we covered up the raft that way for, and

"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

onehorse place on the river, fortyfour 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

"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 today, because of course we don't want to go by that town

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 cornshuck 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

"I should a reckoned the difference in rank would a sejested to you that a cornshuck bed warn't just fitten for

Jim and me was in a sweat again for a minute, being afraid there was going to be some more trouble amongst

"'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 threequarters 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 whitecaps 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 HWHACK!

bum! bum! bumbleumbleumbumbumbum 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

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 alaughing. He was the easiest nigger to laugh that ever

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 cabinlight 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 sevenup 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 carpetbag, 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

twentyfive cents apiece." The duke said that was HIM. In another bill he was the "worldrenowned

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 "diviningrod," "dissipating witch

"But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, Royalty?"

"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.

"I'm in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater; but, you see, I don't know nothing about

playactin', and hain't ever seen much of it. I was too small when pap used to have 'em at the palace. Do you

"All right. I'm jist afreezn' 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,

"But if Juliet's such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white whiskers is goin' to look oncommon

"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 nightgown and her ruffled nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts."

He got out two or three curtaincalico 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 spreadeagle 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

There was a little onehorse 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 campmeeting, about two mile back in the woods. The king got the directions, and

allowed he'd go and work that campmeeting for all it was worth, and I might go, too.

The duke said what he was after was a printingoffice. 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,

litteredup 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

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 wagontroughs 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

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 sunbonnets; and some had linseywoolsey 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 towlinen shirt. Some of the old women was knitting, and some of the young folks was

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 aleaning 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! AaMEN!" And so he went on, and the people groaning and

"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! (AAMEN!) 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!"

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 agoing, and you could hear him over everybody; and next he went

acharging 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

campmeeting, natural brothers and benefactors of the race, and that dear preacher there, the truest friend a

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

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 campmeeting 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 eightyseven dollars and

seventyfive cents. And then he had fetched away a threegallon 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

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 printingoffice 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

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

"Now," says the duke, "after tonight 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 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.

"Well," says he, "dat's all right, den. I doan' mine one er two kings, but dat's enough. Dis one's powerful

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

IT was after sunup 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 Roomeo! 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

"Well, Capet, we'll want to make this a firstclass show, you know, so I guess we'll add a little more to it. We

"I'll answer by doing the Highland fling or the sailor's hornpipe; and you well, let me see oh, I've got it

"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,

To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin That makes calamity of so long life; For who would fardels bear,

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

Breathes forth contagion on the world, And thus the native hue of resolution, like the poor cat i' the adage,

And all the clouds that lowered o'er our housetops, With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the

Well, the old man he liked that speech, and he mighty soon got it so he could do it firstrate. 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

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 onehorse town in a big bend; so we tied up about

threequarters 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

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

Edmund Kean the elder, of the Royal Haymarket Theatre, Whitechapel, Pudding Lane, Piccadilly, London,

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 overflowed. The houses had little gardens around them, but they didn't

seem to raise hardly anything in them but jimpsonweeds, and sunflowers, and ash piles, and old curledup

boots and shoes, and pieces of bottles, and rags, and playedout 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 whitewashed some time or another,

but the duke said it was in Clumbus' time, like enough. There was generly hogs in the garden, and people

All the stores was along one street. They had white domestic awnings in front, and the country people hitched

their horses to the awningposts. 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 awningpost, and he most always had his hands in his britchespockets,

except when he fetched them out to lend a chaw of tobacco or scratch. What a body was hearing amongst

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,

"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

"Yes, you did 'bout six chaws. You borry'd store tobacker and paid back niggerhead."

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

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 acoming; 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 agwyne to chaw up this time. If he'd achawed up all the men he's ben agwyne to chaw

Another one says, "I wisht old Boggs 'd threaten me, 'cuz then I'd know I warn't gwyne to die for a thousan'

Boggs comes atearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an Injun, and singing out:

"Cler the track, thar. I'm on the wawpath, and the price uv coffins is agwyne 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 don't mean nothing; he's always acarryin' on like that when he's drunk. He's the best naturedest old fool

Boggs rode up before the biggest store in town, and bent his head down so he could see under the curtain of

"Come out here, Sherburn! Come out and meet the man you've swindled. You're the houn' I'm after, and I'm

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 proudlooking man about fiftyfive 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

"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 araging down the street

again, with his gray hair aflying. 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

"Go for his daughter! quick, go for his daughter; sometimes he'll listen to her. If anybody can persuade

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 areeling across the street towards me, bareheaded, with a

friend on both sides of him aholt 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:

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

pistolbarrel 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

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

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

crookedhandled 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 hatbrim 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

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 clothesline they come to to do the hanging

THEY swarmed up towards Sherburn's house, awhooping 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

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 twentyfoot 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

Just then Sherburn steps out on to the roof of his little front porch, with a doublebarrel gun in his hand, and

takes his stand, perfectly ca'm and deliberate, not saying a word. The racket stopped, and the wave sucked

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

outgaze 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

"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 castout 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

"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,

"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

"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 halfaman's coattail, 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 halfaman with you" tossing his gun up across his left arm and cocking it when he says

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 twentydollar 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

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

sureenough 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 aweaving 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 tentroof, and every lady's

roseleafy 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 centerpole, 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

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, areeling this way and that; and the next minute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood! and

the horse agoing like a house afire too. He just stood up there, asailing 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 dressingroom,

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

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:

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 abragging 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 aprancing out on all fours, naked; and he was painted all

over, ringstreaked andstriped, 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

hawhawed till he come back and done it over again, and after that they made him do it another time. Well, it

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

The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, "Sold!" and rose up mad, and was

agoing 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

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 newcomers 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 sixtyfour 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

"Well, how'd the old thing pan out this time, duke?" He hadn't been uptown 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

"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 sixtyfive dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in

by the wagonload like that before. By and by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:

"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 asaying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out."

"You read about them once you'll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this 'n 's a Sundayschool 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,

"Well, they all do, Jim. We can't help the way a king smells; history don't tell no way."

"Yes, a duke's different. But not very different. This one's a middling hard lot for a duke. When he's drunk

"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

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',

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

"She never done it; jis' stood dah, kiner smilin' up at me. It make me mad; en I says agin, mighty loud, I says:

"En wid dat I fetch' her a slap side de head dat sont her asprawlin'. Den I went into de yuther room, en 'uz

gone 'bout ten minutes; en when I come back dah was dat do' astannin' open YIT, en dat chile stannin' mos'

right in it, alookin' down and mournin', en de tears runnin' down. My, but I WUZ mad! I was agwyne 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, kerBLAM! 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 atremblin', 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 acryin' 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

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

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 curtaincalico gown, and a white horsehair 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

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,

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

"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

innocentlooking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful

"Run her nose in shore," says the king. I done it. "Wher' you bound for, young man?"

"Git aboard," says the king. "Hold on a minute, my servant 'll he'p you with them bags. Jump out and he'p the

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

"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,

"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,

"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 thirtyfive. 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

"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 redheaded 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

"Oh, he lives in England Sheffield preaches there hasn't ever been in this country. He hasn't had

"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

"It's a pretty long journey. But it'll be lovely; wisht I was agoing. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the

"Mary Jane's nineteen, Susan's fifteen, and Joanna's about fourteen that's the one that gives herself to good

"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

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

"Because she's a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn't stop there. When they're deep they won't

"Oh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it's reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid

"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

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

"Now hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new carpetbags. 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 adoing 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 agoing to try to; but he really done it pretty

The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards.

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

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 acoming, 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

"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 carpetbag and bust out acrying. If they warn't the beatenest lot, them two frauds, that ever I

Well, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said all sorts of kind things to them, and

carried their carpetbags 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

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

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 redheaded, 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

Marsy Jane she jumped for them, and the harelip 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 acrying 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

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 goodygoody

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 soulbutter and hogwash I never see it freshen up things

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 ahunting 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 asmiling and bobbing their heads like a passel of sapheads whilst he made all sorts of signs with

his hands and said "Googoo googoogoo" 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 dwellinghouse 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 aboveboard; 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 yallerboys. My, the way the king's eyes did shine! He slaps the

"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 yallerboys, and sifted them through their fingers and let them jingle

"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

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:

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

"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 aboveboard here, you know. We want to lug this hyer money up

stairs and count it before everybody then ther' ain't noth'n suspicious. But when the dead man says ther's

"Hold on," says the duke. "Le's make up the deffisit," and he begun to haul out yallerboys 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 yallerjackets and stack them up.

"Say," says the duke, "I got another idea. Le's go up stairs and count this money, and then take and GIVE IT

"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

When we got upstairs 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.

"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

leatherheaded a while; then all of a sudden he seems to catch his meaning, and jumps for the king,

googooing 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 harelip 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

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 ironjawed man worked himself in there from outside, and

stood alistening 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

" 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

And so he went amooning 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 googooing and reaching it over people's heads to

"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

"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.

He was the WORST I ever struck. Well, the ironjawed man he laughed right in his face. Everybody was

"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;

"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 harelip 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

"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

"All right, doctor," says the king, kinder mocking him; "we'll try and get 'em to send for you;" which made

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 guitarbox 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,

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 talkytalk, just the way people always does at a supper, you know.

And when it was all done me and the harelip had supper in the kitchen off of the leavings, whilst the others

was helping the niggers clean up the things. The harelip she got to pumping me about England, and blest if I

"Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I have he goes to our church." I knowed he was dead years ago, but I

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

"I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield. That's only in the summer time, when he comes

"Gets it the way people down here gets Congresswater 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

When she said that I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was comfortable and glad. Next, she says:

Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I played another chicken bone and got

"What! to preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you. They don't have no less than

"Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn't set out such a string as that, not if I NEVER got to glory. It must take

"Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate and one thing or another. But mainly they don't do

"Well, I don't WANT to know no such foolishness as that. How is servants treated in England? Do they treat

"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, Harel 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,

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

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

"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

"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

"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

"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 Harelip 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 Harelip. So she hollered.

She done it, too; and she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful it was good to hear; and I wished I could

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

agoing 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

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

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 awhoopin' up the

"Well, this is it, Capet. I ain't easy; I ain't comfortable. That doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your

"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

That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been a little different, but now it made me

"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,

The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn't want to go no deeper didn't want to

"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 agoin to suffer. Why, jest think there's thous'n's and thous'n's that ain't nigh so well off. Bless you,

Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he give in, and said all right, but said he believed it was blamed

"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

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:

"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

"Your head's level agin, duke," says the king; and he comes afumbling 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 featherbed, 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 featherbed, and don't turn over the straw tick only about twice a year, and so it warn't in no danger of

But I knowed better. I had it out of there before they was halfway 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

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

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 diningroom 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 moneybag in under the lid, just down beyond where his hands was crossed, which made me creep, they

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 diningroom I thought I'd make sure them watchers hadn't seen me; so I looked

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

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 diningroom was full. I see the coffin lid was the way it was before, but I dasn't go

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

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 shipshape 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

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 longlegged 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.

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 screwdriver. 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

They buried him, and we come back home, and I went to watching faces again I couldn't help it, and I

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 noontime, the girls' joy got the first jolt. A couple of nigger

traders come along, and the king sold them the niggers reasonable, for threeday 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

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

"No, your majesty" which was the way I always called him when nobody but our gang warn't around.

"Honor bright, your majesty, I'm telling you the truth. I hain't been anear your room since Miss Mary Jane

Both of them gave a little jump, and looked like they hadn't ever expected it, and then like they HAD. Then

"No leastways, not all at once that is, I don't think I ever see them all come OUT at once but just one

"It was the day we had the funeral. In the morning. It warn't early, because I overslept. I was just starting

"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

"Great guns, THIS is a go!" says the king; and both of them looked pretty sick and tolerable silly. They stood

there athinking and scratching their heads a minute, and the duke he bust into a kind of a little raspy

"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 layout 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

"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

"I was trying to do for the best in sellin' 'em out so quick. If the profits has turned out to be none, lackin'

"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 ajawing; and I felt dreadful glad I'd worked it all off on to the niggers, and

BY and by it was gettingup time. So I come down the ladder and started for downstairs; 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

"Miss Mary Jane, you can't abear 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

Laws, it was out before I could think! And before I could budge she throws her arms around my neck and

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 easedup, 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 agoing to chance it; I'll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem most like setting down on a

"Miss Mary Jane, is there any place out of town a little ways where you could go and stay three or four

"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?"

"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 kisstheBible." She smiled and reddened up very sweet, and I says, "If you don't mind it, I'll

"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 deadbeats. There, now we're over the worst

It jolted her up like everything, of course; but I was over the shoal water now, so I went right along, her eyes

ablazing 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

"The brute! Come, don't waste a minute not a SECOND we'll have them tarred and feathered, and

"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

"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 tonight. 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

"Well, that 'll answer. Now you go along out there, and lay low till nine or halfpast tonight, 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."

"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

"Stand by you! indeed I will. They sha'n't touch a hair of your head!" she says, and I see her nostrils spread

"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

"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, it's because you ain't one of these leatherface 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

"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 tonight or early in the

"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

"Well, they've got that; and it makes me feel pretty silly to think HOW they 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

"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

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

"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

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

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:

"GOODbye. 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

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 backdown 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

"What's the name of them people over on t'other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?"

"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

"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

"They don't, don't they? You better bet they do with THESE mumps. These mumps is different. It's a new

"Well, measles, and whoopingcough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and yaller janders, and brainfever,

"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,

"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

"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 pluribusunum 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

"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."

"Listen at that, now. You do beat all for natural stupidness. Can't you SEE that THEY'D go and tell? Ther'

"But I reckon we ought to tell Uncle Harvey she's gone out a while, anyway, so he won't be uneasy about

"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

"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,

"All right," they said, and cleared out to lay for their uncles, and give them the love and the kisses, and tell

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

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 goodygoody saying of some kind, and

the duke he was around googooing 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

"HERE'S your opposition line! here's your two sets o' heirs to old Peter Wilks and you pays your money

THEY was fetching a very nicelooking old gentleman along, and a nicelooking 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

googooing 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 newcomers like it give him the stomachache 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."

"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

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 sharplooking gentleman, with a carpetbag of the oldfashioned kind made

out of carpetstuff, 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:

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."

"I reckon I would, but I don't know. Why, yonder he is, now. I know him perfectly easy."

"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

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

"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

Everybody agreed to that. So I judged they had our gang in a pretty tight place right at the outstart. But the

"Gentlemen, I wish the money was there, for I ain't got no disposition to throw anything in the way of a fair,

open, outandout investigation o' this misable business; but, alas, the money ain't there; you k'n send and

"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

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:

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 mixedup 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 lefthanded 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

"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:

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

"If you please, let me explain. Nobody can read my hand but my brother there so he copies for me. It's

"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

"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."

"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

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

"I've thought of something. Is there anybody here that helped to lay out my br helped to lay out the late

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

"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

The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his eye lights up like he judged he'd

"There you've heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter Wilks' breast?"

"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

"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

"Gentlemen gentleMEN! Hear me just a word just a SINGLE word if you PLEASE! There's one

"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

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

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

closefit come, here was nothing in the world betwixt me and sudden death but just them tattoomarks. If

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

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

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

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

All of a sudden the lightning let go a perfect sluice of white glare, and somebody sings out:

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

nowandthen glares, and the buzzing of the rain, and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of the

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 acoming 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 Arab 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

"Not now; have it for breakfast, have it for breakfast ! Cut loose and let her slide!"

So in two seconds away we went asliding 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 alaying 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.

WHEN they got aboard the king went for me, and shook me by the collar, and says:

"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 aholt 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

Jim said it was so; and the king told him to shut up, and said, "Oh, yes, it's MIGHTY likely!" and shook me

"Leggo the boy, you old idiot! Would YOU a done any different? Did you inquire around for HIM when you

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 bluearrow 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 tonight

They was still a minute thinking; then the king says, kind of absentminded like:

"Shucks!" says the king, very sarcastic; "but I don't know maybe you was asleep, and didn't know what

"Oh, let UP on this cussed nonsense; do you take me for a blame' fool? Don't you reckon I know who hid that

"Well, you just own up, first, that you DID hide that money there, intending to give me the slip one of these

"Wait jest a minute, duke answer me this one question, honest and fair; if you didn't put the money there,

"Well, then, I b'lieve you. But answer me only jest this one more now DON'T git mad; didn't you have it

"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

"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

I was very glad to hear him say that; it made me feel much more easier than what I was feeling before. So the

"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

atrusting 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,

"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

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 asnoring 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 moneybag again. That made

me feel easy and satisfied. Of course when they got to snoring we had a long gabble, and I told Jim

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

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 dancingschool; 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

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 counterfeitmoney

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,

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 abrewing, 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 acussing and athreatening 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

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

"Down to Silas Phelps' place, two mile below here. He's a runaway nigger, and they've got him. Was you

"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

"Well," he says, "you needn't be afeard no more, becuz they've got him. He run off f'm down South, som'ers."

"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.

"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. NosirreeBOB, 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

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 lowdown 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 lowdown 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 agoing 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 Sundayschool, 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

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

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

Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him

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

nighttime, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we afloating 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 suchlike 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 smallpox 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 atrembling, 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:

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

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,

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 farmhouses, 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 threenight performance

like that other time. They had the cheek, them frauds! I was right on him before I could shirk. He looked

"HelLO! Where'd YOU come from?" Then he says, kind of glad and eager, "Where's the raft? got her in

"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 aloafing 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 aholt 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

"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 halfdollars 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

"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,

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

"SOLD him?" I says, and begun to cry; "why, he was MY nigger, and that was my money. Where is he? I

"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 awhimpering, 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

He looked kinder bothered, and stood there with his bills fluttering on his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his

"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

"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

"The man that bought him is named Abram Foster Abram G. Foster and he lives forty mile back here

"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,

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

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.

WHEN I got there it was all still and Sundaylike, 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

Phelps' was one of these little onehorse cotton plantations, and they all look alike. A rail fence round a

twoacre yard; a stile made out of logs sawed off and upended 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 grasspatches in the big yard, but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the nap rubbed

off; big double loghouse for the white folks hewed logs, with the chinks stopped up with mud or mortar,

and these mudstripes been whitewashed some time or another; roundlog kitchen, with a big broad, open

but roofed passage joining it to the house; log smokehouse back of the kitchen; three little log niggercabins

in a row t'other side the smokehouse; one little hut all by itself away down against the back fence, and some

outbuildings down a piece the other side; ashhopper 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

I went around and clumb over the back stile by the ashhopper, and started for the kitchen. When I got a little

ways I heard the dim hum of a spinningwheel 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

When I got halfway, 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, abarking and howling; and more acoming;

A nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rollingpin 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

And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys without anything on but towlinen

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 fortyfive or fifty year old,

bareheaded, and her spinningstick 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:

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

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 splitbottomed chair, and set herself down on a little

"Now I can have a GOOD look at you; and, lawsame, 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?

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

"It warn't the grounding that didn't keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinderhead."

"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 cylinderhead 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

"No, I didn't see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the

wharfboat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get

"The captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he

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 arunning 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

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

"Here he comes! Stick your head down lower there, that'll do; you can't be seen now. Don't you let on

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

I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she

"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

"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

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, abeaming and asmiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and

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 cylinderhead at the mouth of

White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked firstrate; 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

SO I started for town in the wagon, and when I was halfway 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

"I hain't ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha'nt ME for?"

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?"

"Well I I well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can't somehow seem to understand it no way.

"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

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."

"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 atrying to steal out of slavery, and his name is JIM old Miss Watson' s

"I know what you'll say. You'll say it's dirty, lowdown business; but what if it is? I'm low down; and I'm

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

"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

"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 onehorse 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 farmerpreachers like that, and done the same

In about half an hour Tom's wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window,

"Why, there's somebody come! I wonder who 'tis? Why, I do believe it's a stranger. Jimmy " (that's one of the

Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don't come EVERY year, and so he

lays over the yallerfever, 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 afront 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

"No, my boy," says the old gentleman, "I'm sorry to say 't your driver has deceived you; Nichols's place is

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

"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

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,

"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

"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

"THEY told you I would. Whoever told you's ANOTHER lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who's

It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch

"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,

"Till I ASK you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you'll be the Methusalemnumskull of

"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,

"My land!" she says, breaking in and jumping for him, "you impudent young rascal, to fool a body so "

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

"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 firstrate

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

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:

"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 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 goodnight and went up to bed right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the

lightningrod, 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 soldierplumes. 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.

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

"Looky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is."

"In that hut down by the ashhopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn't you see a nigger man

"So it was I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It

"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

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:

"My plan is this," I says. "We can easy find out if it's Jim in there. Then get up my canoe tomorrow 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

"WORK? Why, cert'nly it would work, like rats afighting. 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 goosemilk. Why, Huck, it

I never said nothing, because I warn't expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he

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

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 leatherheaded; 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

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 ashhopper 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 windowhole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it.

"Here's the ticket. This hole's big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board."

"It's as simple as tittattoe, threeinarow, and as easy as playing hooky. I should HOPE we can find a

"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 leanto 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 soapkettle 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

playedout 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;

Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door you only have to pull a buckskin latchstring,

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 lightningrod. 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;

This nigger had a goodnatured, chuckleheaded 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,

The nigger kind of smiled around graduly over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mudpuddle,

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

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,

We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:

"Well, that's mighty curious. WHO sung out? WHEN did he sing out? WHAT did he sing out?" And turns to

Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:

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 dadblame' 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

"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

"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

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.

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 foxfire, 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

"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 sleepingmixture to. And there's Jim chained by one leg, with a tenfoot

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 punkinheaded nigger, and don't send nobody to watch the

nigger. Jim could a got out of that windowhole before this, only there wouldn't be no use trying to travel with

a tenfoot 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

"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?"

"Well, if that ain't just like you, Huck Finn. You CAN get up the infantschooliest 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 oldmaidy way as

that? No; the way all the best authorities does is to saw the bedleg 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 bedleg 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."

"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

"Good land!" I says; "why, there ain't NO necessity for it. And what would you want to saw his leg off for,

"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

"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

"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

"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 hickrybark 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,

"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 hickrybark 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

"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

"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 donjonkeep 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 goosequill if they

"Many makes it out of ironrust 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."

"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

He broke off there, because we heard the breakfasthorn blowing. So we cleared out for the house.

Along during the morning I borrowed a sheet and a white shirt off of the clothesline; and I found an old

sack and put them in it, and we went down and got the foxfire, 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 niggerpatch 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 goldleaf distinctions like that every time I

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 leanto 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:

"Ain't them old crippled picks and things in there good enough to dig a nigger out with?" I 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

"Well, then," I says, "if we don't want the picks and shovels, what do we want?"

"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 caseknife 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

"THIRTYSEVEN YEAR and he come out in China. THAT'S the kind. I wish the bottom of THIS

"What's THAT got to do with it? Neither did that other fellow. But you're always awandering off on a side

"All right I don't care where he comes out, so he COMES out; and Jim don't, either, I reckon. But there's

"Yes he will LAST, too. You don't reckon it's going to take thirtyseven years to dig out through a DIRT

"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

thirtyseven years. Then we can snatch him out and rush him away the first time there's an alarm. Yes, I

"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

"Tom, if it ain't unregular and irreligious to sejest it," I says, "there's an old rusty sawblade around yonder

"It ain't no use to try to learn you nothing, Huck. Run along and smouch the knives three of them." So I

AS soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down the lightningrod, and shut

ourselves up in the leanto, and got out our pile of foxfire, 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 counterpin 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 caseknives till most midnight; and then we was

dogtired, and our hands was blistered, and yet you couldn't see we'd done anything hardly. At last I says:

"This ain't no thirtyseven year job; this is a thirtyeight 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

"It ain't no use, Huck, it ain't agoing 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

"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

"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 Sundayschool 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

Sundayschool book; and if a pick's the handiest thing, that's the thing I'm agoing to dig that nigger or that

watermelon or that Sundayschool book out with; and I don't give a dead rat what the authorities thinks about

"Well," he says, "there's excuse for picks and lettingon 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,

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.

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 lightningrod, but

"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 lightningrod."

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 dogfennel and jimpson weeds under the windowhole then we could tote them

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

That night we went down the lightningrod a little after ten, and took one of the candles along, and listened

under the windowhole, 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

coldchisel 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

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

So he told Jim how we'd have to smuggle in the ropeladder 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 coatpockets and he must steal them out; and we would tie things to aunt's

apronstrings or put them in her apronpocket, 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 corncob 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

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 cornpone 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 astanding 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 leanto 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

"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

"Well, I tell you what I think. What makes them come here just at this runaway nigger's breakfasttime? 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

"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

"HANNEL 'm, Mars Sid? What IS you atalkin' 'bout? I wouldn' lay de weight er my finger on um, not f'r ten

THAT was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbagepile in the back yard, where they keep

the old boots, and rags, and pieces of bottles, and woreout 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 shinglenails 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 apronpocket 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 coatpocket, 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

"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 corncrust 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 fishingworm, 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

"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 woolgethering memory, too, because it was on the clo'sline 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

"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

"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."

"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

"Well, Sally, I'm in fault, and I acknowledge it; I've been remiss; but I won't let tomorrow go by without

Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the sugarbowl without fooling around

"Clah to goodness I hain't no notion, Miss' Sally. She wuz on de clo'sline yistiddy, but she done gone: she ain'

"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,

Well, she was just abiling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned I would sneak out and go for the woods

till the weather moderated. She kept araging 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

"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

"I reely don't know, Sally," he says, kind of apologizing, "or you know I would tell. I was astudying 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

"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

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 settingroom the old man he took up his hat, and the shinglenail

fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up and laid it on the mantelshelf, and never said nothing,

"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

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 absentminded as year before

last. He went a mooning around, first to one rathole and then another, till he'd been to them all. Then he

stood about five minutes, picking tallowdrip off of his candle and thinking. Then he turns off slow and

"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 amumbling 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

spoonbasket till we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to counting the spoons and laying them out

"Go 'long to your play, and don't bother me. I know better, I counted 'm myself."

"I declare to gracious ther' AIN'T but nine!" she says. "Why, what in the world plague TAKE the things,

"Hang the troublesome rubbage, ther's TEN now!" and she looked huffy and bothered both. But Tom says:

So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, she WAS in a tearing way just

atrembling 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 galleywest;

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 apronpocket whilst she was

agiving 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 agoing to bullyrag the rest of her soul out about it, and wouldn't count them again not to

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 mixedup counting; and as to the candlestick, it warn't no consequence, it would blow

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 washpans 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

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

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 washpan afraid the solder would melt; but Uncle Silas he had a noble brass

warmingpan 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

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

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

"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

"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

"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

So whilst me and Jim filed away at the pens on a brickbat apiece, Jim amaking 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.

"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

"We ain't got no time to bother over that," he says; "we got to dig in like all gitout."

"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

"Shucks, Tom," I says, "I think you might tell a person. What's a bar sinister?"

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

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

Here a poor prisoner, forsook by the world and friends, fretted his sorrowful life. 2.

Here a lonely heart broke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after thirtyseven years of solitary

Here, homeless and friendless, after thirtyseven years of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger,

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

"Come to think, the logs ain't agoing to do; they don't have log walls in a dungeon: we got to dig the

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

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 bedleg, 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 outsuperintend 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 leanto 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 bedleg, and was ready for bed ourselves.

"But bless you, honey, I doan' WANT none. I's afeard un um. I jis' 's soon have rattlesnakes aroun'."

"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

"De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom! Why, if dey was a rattlesnake to come in heah I'd take en bust right

"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

"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

"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' WANT no sich glory. Snake take 'n bite Jim's chin off, den WHAH is de glory?

"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

"Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you're so bullheaded about it. We can get you some gartersnakes, 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

"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'yartersnakes, 'f I's got to have 'm,

"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 juiceharp; but I reck'n dey wouldn' take no stock

"Yes they would. THEY don't care what kind of music 'tis. A jewsharp'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 jewsharp. 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 jewsharp; 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

"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:

"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,

"One er dem big cattaillookin' mullenstalks would grow in heah, Mars Tom, I reck'n, but she wouldn't be

"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

"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 mullenstalks twyste wid spring water whiles another man's a

"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 coffeepot, 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 jewsharping 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

IN the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rattrap and fetched it down, and unstopped the

best rathole, 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 astanding 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

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

housesnakes, and put them in a bag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was suppertime, 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

aholt 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

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

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 bedleg was sawed in two, and we had

et up the sawdust, and it give us a most amazing stomachache. 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

"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 servantgirl 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

"But looky here, Tom, what do we want to WARN anybody for that something's up? Let them find it out for

"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 mulletheaded 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."

"But I ain't going to make no complaint. Any way that suits you suits me. What you going to do about the

"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

"All right, then, I'll do it; but I could carry it just as handy in my own togs."

"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

"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

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 awhirling around sudden, and saying "ouch," and before she'd got twothirds 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

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 lightningrod 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 cutthroats from over in the Indian

Territory going to steal your runaway nigger tonight, 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

whoopjamboreehoo. I do not wish any reward but to know I have done the right thing.

WE was feeling pretty good after breakfast, and took my canoe and went over the river afishing, 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 halfpast eleven, and Tom put on Aunt

"We can get along WITH it, too," he says; "just you slide down cellar and fetch it. And then mosey right

down the lightningrod and come along. I'll go and stuff the straw into Jim's clothes to represent his mother

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 cornpone 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

"You don't KNOW? Don't answer me that way. Tom, I want to know what you been DOING down there."

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 yardstick straight; so she says,

"You just march into that settingroom and stay there till I come. You been up to something you no business

So she went away as I opened the door and walked into the settingroom. 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

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'snest 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

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 sheepsignal; and here was Aunty pegging away at the questions, and me

ashaking 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 atrickling down my forehead, and Aunt Sally she

"For the land's sake, what IS the matter with the child? He's got the brainfever as shore as you're born, and

And everybody runs to see, and she snatches off my hat, and out comes the bread and what was left of the

"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 lightningrod in another one, and shinning through the dark for the

leanto. 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!

"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

"Right at your elbow; if you reach out your arm you can touch him. He's dressed, and everything's ready.

But then we heard the tramp of men coming to the door, and heard them begin to fumble with the padlock,

"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

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 leanto, 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 ascraping 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

But we didn't answer; we just unfurled our heels and shoved. Then there was a rush, and a BANG, BANG,

"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 upsteam 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

"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

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

"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:

"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'

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 agoing 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

"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

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

THE doctor was an old man; a very nice, kindlooking 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

So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddlebags, 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:

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

So then I crept into a lumberpile 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

"I hain't been nowheres," I says, "only just hunting for the runaway nigger me and Sid."

"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 upshore 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 postoffice to see what he can hear, and I'm abranching out to

So then we went to the postoffice 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

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

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 agoing all the time. She says:

"Well, Sister Phelps, I've ransacked thatair 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 thatair 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 thirtyseven 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 thatair ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss," says old Mrs. Damrell; "what in the name o'

"The very words I was asayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to Sister Utterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself.

Shshe, look at thatair rag ladder, shshe; 'n' s'I, yes, LOOK at it, s'I what COULD he awanted of it,

"But how in the nation'd they ever GIT that grindstone IN there, ANYWAY? 'n' who dug thatair HOLE? 'n'

"My very WORDS, Brer Penrod! I was asayin' pass thatair sasser o' m'lasses, won't ye? I was

asayin' 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 ahelpin' that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on this place but I'D find

"A DOZEN says you! FORTY couldn't a done every thing that's been done. Look at them caseknife

saws and things, how tedious they've been made; look at that bedleg sawed off with 'm, a week's work for

"You may WELL say it, Brer Hightower! It's jist as I was asayin' 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 bedleg 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 housefull 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 awatching 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 warmingpan, 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 atelling 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 twentytwo 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

"'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

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 lightningrod, 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 harumscarum 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?"

"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

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

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

"The door ain't going to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and the rod; but you'll be good, WON'T

Laws knows I WANTED to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was all intending to go; but after that I

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,

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

So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had laid it down, and fetched it, and

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

And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, which showed he warn't in his right

"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

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

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 bedleg 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 goodbye cussing, and then the old doctor comes and takes a look, and

"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 anigh 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."

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,

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

But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sickroom all day and all night, and every time I see Uncle

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 sickroom, 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 firefaced 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 firstrate, 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

"The same," I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash. But he never noticed, but says:

"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

caseknives, and the warmingpan, 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 lightningrod, 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 "

" 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

"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

achipping in, and spitting fire all along, and both of them going it at once, like a cat convention; and she

"WELL, you get all the enjoyment you can out of it NOW, for mind I tell you if I catch you meddling with

"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

"They hain't no RIGHT to shut him up! SHOVE! and don't you lose a minute. Turn him loose! he ain't no

"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

"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

If she warn't standing right there, just inside the door, looking as sweet and contented as an angel half full of

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

"Oh, deary me!" says Aunt Sally; "IS he changed so? Why, that ain't TOM, it's Sid; Tom's Tom's why,

"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 howdydo. Come out from under

Aunt Sally she was one of the mixedupestlooking 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 prayermeeting 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 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

Well, Aunt Polly she said that when Aunt Sally wrote to her that Tom and SID had come all right and safe,

"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."

"Well, I wonder! Why, I wrote you twice to ask you what you could mean by Sid being here."

"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

"Well, you DO need skinning, there ain't no mistake about it. And I wrote another one to tell you I was

"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

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 brassband, and then he would be a hero, and so would we. But I reckoned it was about as well the way it

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 sickroom, 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

"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

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

"No, he hain't," Tom says; "it's all there yet six thousand dollars and more; and your pap hain't ever been

"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

Tom's most well now, and got his bullet around his neck on a watchguard 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 agoing 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