HUCKLEBERRY FINN

By Mark Twain

Part 8. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

AS soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down thelightning-rod, and shut ourselves up in the lean-to, and got out our pileof fox-fire, and went to work. We cleared everything out of the way, about four or five foot along the middle of the bottom log. Tom said wewas right behind Jim's bed now, and we'd dig in under it, and when we gotthrough there couldn't nobody in the cabin ever know there was any holethere, because Jim's counter-pin hung down most to the ground, and you'dhave to raise it up and look under to see the hole. So we dug and dugwith the case-knives till most midnight; and then we was dog-tired, andour hands was blistered, and yet you couldn't see we'd done anythinghardly. At last I says:

"This ain't no thirty-seven year job; this is a thirty-eight year job, Tom Sawyer. "

He never said nothing. But he sighed, and pretty soon he stoppeddigging, and then for a good little while I knowed that he was thinking. Then he says:

"It ain't no use, Huck, it ain't a-going to work. If we was prisoners itwould, 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 waschanging watches, and so our hands wouldn't get blistered, and we couldkeep it up right along, year in and year out, and do it right, and theway it ought to be done. But WE can't fool along; we got to rush; weain't got no time to spare. If we was to put in another night this waywe'd have to knock off for a week to let our hands get well--couldn'ttouch a case-knife with them sooner. "

"Well, then, what we going to do, Tom?"

"I'll tell you. It ain't right, and it ain't moral, and I wouldn't likeit to get out; but there ain't only just the one way: we got to dig himout with the picks, and LET ON it's case-knives. "

"NOW you're TALKING!" I says; "your head gets leveler and leveler allthe 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 Istart in to steal a nigger, or a watermelon, or a Sunday-school book, Iain't no ways particular how it's done so it's done. What I want is mynigger; or what I want is my watermelon; or what I want is mySunday-school book; and if a pick's the handiest thing, that's the thingI'm a-going to dig that nigger or that watermelon or that Sunday-schoolbook out with; and I don't give a dead rat what the authorities thinksabout it nuther. "

"Well, " he says, "there's excuse for picks and letting-on in a case likethis; if it warn't so, I wouldn't approve of it, nor I wouldn't stand byand see the rules broke--because right is right, and wrong is wrong, anda body ain't got no business doing wrong when he ain't ignorant and knowsbetter. It might answer for YOU to dig Jim out with a pick, WITHOUT anyletting on, because you don't know no better; but it wouldn't for me, because I do know better. Gimme a case-knife. "

He had his own by him, but I handed him mine. He flung it down, andsays:

"Gimme a CASE-KNIFE. "

I didn't know just what to do--but then I thought. I scratched aroundamongst the old tools, and got a pickaxe and give it to him, and he tookit and went to work, and never said a word. 

He was always just that particular. Full of principle. 

So then I got a shovel, and then we picked and shoveled, turn about, andmade the fur fly. We stuck to it about a half an hour, which was as longas 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 hislevel best with the lightning-rod, but he couldn't come it, his hands wasso sore. At last he says:

"It ain't no use, it can't be done. What you reckon I better do? Can'tyou think of no way?"

"Yes, " I says, "but I reckon it ain't regular. Come up the stairs, andlet on it's a lightning-rod. "

So he done it. 

Next day Tom stole a pewter spoon and a brass candlestick in the house, for to make some pens for Jim out of, and six tallow candles; and I hungaround the nigger cabins and laid for a chance, and stole three tinplates. Tom says it wasn't enough; but I said nobody wouldn't ever seethe plates that Jim throwed out, because they'd fall in the dog-fenneland jimpson weeds under the window-hole--then we could tote them back andhe could use them over again. So Tom was satisfied. Then he says:

"Now, the thing to study out is, how to get the things to Jim. "

"Take them in through the hole, " I says, "when we get it done. "

He only just looked scornful, and said something about nobody ever heardof such an idiotic idea, and then he went to studying. By and by he saidhe had ciphered out two or three ways, but there warn't no need to decideon any of them yet. Said we'd got to post Jim first. 

That night we went down the lightning-rod a little after ten, and tookone of the candles along, and listened under the window-hole, and heardJim snoring; so we pitched it in, and it didn't wake him. Then wewhirled in with the pick and shovel, and in about two hours and a halfthe job was done. We crept in under Jim's bed and into the cabin, andpawed 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 gentleand gradual. He was so glad to see us he most cried; and called ushoney, and all the pet names he could think of; and was for having ushunt up a cold-chisel to cut the chain off of his leg with right away, and clearing out without losing any time. But Tom he showed him howunregular it would be, and set down and told him all about our plans, andhow we could alter them in a minute any time there was an alarm; and notto be the least afraid, because we would see he got away, SURE. So Jimhe said it was all right, and we set there and talked over old timesawhile, and then Tom asked a lot of questions, and when Jim told himUncle Silas come in every day or two to pray with him, and Aunt Sallycome in to see if he was comfortable and had plenty to eat, and both ofthem was kind as they could be, Tom says:

"NOW I know how to fix it. We'll send you some things by them. "

I said, "Don't do nothing of the kind; it's one of the most jackass ideasI ever struck;" but he never paid no attention to me; went right on. Itwas his way when he'd got his plans set. 

So he told Jim how we'd have to smuggle in the rope-ladder pie and otherlarge things by Nat, the nigger that fed him, and he must be on thelookout, and not be surprised, and not let Nat see him open them; and wewould put small things in uncle's coat-pockets and he must steal themout; and we would tie things to aunt's apron-strings or put them in herapron-pocket, if we got a chance; and told him what they would be andwhat they was for. And told him how to keep a journal on the shirt withhis blood, and all that. He told him everything. Jim he couldn't see nosense in the most of it, but he allowed we was white folks and knowedbetter than him; so he was satisfied, and said he would do it all just asTom said. 

Jim had plenty corn-cob pipes and tobacco; so we had a right down goodsociable 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 mostintellectural; and said if he only could see his way to it we would keepit 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 hegot used to it. He said that in that way it could be strung out to asmuch as eighty year, and would be the best time on record. And he saidit would make us all celebrated that had a hand in it. 

In the morning we went out to the woodpile and chopped up the brasscandlestick into handy sizes, and Tom put them and the pewter spoon inhis pocket. Then we went to the nigger cabins, and while I got Nat'snotice off, Tom shoved a piece of candlestick into the middle of acorn-pone that was in Jim's pan, and we went along with Nat to see how itwould work, and it just worked noble; when Jim bit into it it most mashedall 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 apiece 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 hisfork into it in three or four places first. 

And whilst we was a-standing there in the dimmish light, here comes acouple of the hounds bulging in from under Jim's bed; and they kept onpiling in till there was eleven of them, and there warn't hardly room inthere to get your breath. By jings, we forgot to fasten that lean-todoor! The nigger Nat he only just hollered "Witches" once, and keeledover on to the floor amongst the dogs, and begun to groan like he wasdying. Tom jerked the door open and flung out a slab of Jim's meat, andthe dogs went for it, and in two seconds he was out himself and backagain 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, andasking him if he'd been imagining he saw something again. He raised up, and blinked his eyes around, and says:

"Mars Sid, you'll say I's a fool, but if I didn't b'lieve I see most amillion dogs, er devils, er some'n, I wisht I may die right heah in desetracks. I did, mos' sholy. Mars Sid, I FELT um--I FELT um, sah; dey wasall over me. Dad fetch it, I jis' wisht I could git my han's on one erdem witches jis' wunst--on'y jis' wunst--it's all I'd ast. But mos'ly Iwisht dey'd lemme 'lone, I does. "

Tom says:

"Well, I tell you what I think. What makes them come here just at thisrunaway nigger's breakfast-time? It's because they're hungry; that's thereason. You make them a witch pie; that's the thing for YOU to do. "

"But my lan', Mars Sid, how's I gwyne to make 'm a witch pie? I doan'know how to make it. I hain't ever hearn er sich a thing b'fo'. "

"Well, then, I'll have to make it myself. "

"Will you do it, honey?--will you? I'll wusshup de groun' und' yo' foot, I will!"

"All right, I'll do it, seeing it's you, and you've been good to us andshowed us the runaway nigger. But you got to be mighty careful. When wecome 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 unloadsthe pan--something might happen, I don't know what. And above all, don'tyou HANDLE the witch-things. "

"HANNEL 'm, Mars Sid? What IS you a-talkin' 'bout? I wouldn' lay deweight er my finger on um, not f'r ten hund'd thous'n billion dollars, Iwouldn't. "

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THAT was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbage-pile inthe back yard, where they keep the old boots, and rags, and pieces ofbottles, and wore-out tin things, and all such truck, and scratchedaround and found an old tin washpan, and stopped up the holes as well aswe could, to bake the pie in, and took it down cellar and stole it fullof flour and started for breakfast, and found a couple of shingle-nailsthat Tom said would be handy for a prisoner to scrabble his name andsorrows on the dungeon walls with, and dropped one of them in AuntSally's apron-pocket which was hanging on a chair, and t'other we stuckin the band of Uncle Silas's hat, which was on the bureau, because weheard the children say their pa and ma was going to the runaway nigger'shouse this morning, and then went to breakfast, and Tom dropped thepewter spoon in Uncle Silas's coat-pocket, and Aunt Sally wasn't comeyet, so we had to wait a little while. 

And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn't hardly waitfor the blessing; and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one handand cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with the other, and says:

"I've hunted high and I've hunted low, and it does beat all what HASbecome of your other shirt. "

My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hardpiece of corn-crust started down my throat after it and got met on theroad with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of thechildren in the eye and curled him up like a fishing-worm, and let a cryout of him the size of a warwhoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue aroundthe gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of things forabout a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would a sold outfor half price if there was a bidder. But after that we was all rightagain--it was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us so kind of cold. Uncle Silas he says:

"It's most uncommon curious, I can't understand it. I know perfectlywell I took it OFF, because--"

"Because you hain't got but one ON. Just LISTEN at the man! I know youtook it off, and know it by a better way than your wool-gethering memory, too, because it was on the clo's-line yesterday--I see it there myself. But it's gone, that's the long and the short of it, and you'll just haveto 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 onthe jump to keep you in shirts; and whatever you do manage to DO with 'mall is more'n I can make out. A body 'd think you WOULD learn to takesome sort of care of 'em at your time of life. "

"I know it, Sally, and I do try all I can. But it oughtn't to bealtogether my fault, because, you know, I don't see them nor have nothingto do with them except when they're on me; and I don't believe I've everlost one of them OFF of me. "

"Well, it ain't YOUR fault if you haven't, Silas; you'd a done it if youcould, I reckon. And the shirt ain't all that's gone, nuther. Ther's aspoon gone; and THAT ain't all. There was ten, and now ther's only nine. The calf got the shirt, I reckon, but the calf never took the spoon, THAT'S certain. "

"Why, what else is gone, Sally?"

"Ther's six CANDLES gone--that's what. The rats could a got the candles, and I reckon they did; I wonder they don't walk off with the whole place, the way you're always going to stop their holes and don't do it; and ifthey warn't fools they'd sleep in your hair, Silas--YOU'D never find itout; but you can't lay the SPOON on the rats, and that I know. "

"Well, Sally, I'm in fault, and I acknowledge it; I've been remiss; but Iwon't let to-morrow go by without stopping up them holes. "

"Oh, I wouldn't hurry; next year 'll do. Matilda Angelina AramintaPHELPS!"

Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of thesugar-bowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman stepson to the passage, and says:

"Missus, dey's a sheet gone. "

"A SHEET gone! Well, for the land's sake!"

"I'll stop up them holes to-day, " says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful. 

"Oh, DO shet up!--s'pose the rats took the SHEET? WHERE'S it gone, Lize?"

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

"I reckon the world IS coming to an end. I NEVER see the beat of it inall my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can--"

"Missus, " comes a young yaller wench, "dey's a brass cannelstick miss'n. "

"Cler out from here, you hussy, er I'll take a skillet to ye!"

Well, she was just a-biling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned Iwould sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. Shekept a-raging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, andeverybody else mighty meek and quiet; and at last Uncle Silas, lookingkind 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 inJeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says:

"It's JUST as I expected. So you had it in your pocket all the time; andlike as not you've got the other things there, too. How'd it get there?"

"I reely don't know, Sally, " he says, kind of apologizing, "or you know Iwould tell. I was a-studying over my text in Acts Seventeen beforebreakfast, and I reckon I put it in there, not noticing, meaning to putmy Testament in, and it must be so, because my Testament ain't in; butI'll go and see; and if the Testament is where I had it, I'll know Ididn't put it in, and that will show that I laid the Testament down andtook up the spoon, and--"

"Oh, for the land's sake! Give a body a rest! Go 'long now, the wholekit and biling of ye; and don't come nigh me again till I've got back mypeace of mind. "

I'd a heard her if she'd a said it to herself, let alone speaking it out;and I'd a got up and obeyed her if I'd a been dead. As we was passingthrough the setting-room the old man he took up his hat, and theshingle-nail fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up andlaid it on the mantel-shelf, and never said nothing, and went out. Tomsee him do it, and remembered about the spoon, and says:

"Well, it ain't no use to send things by HIM no more, he ain't reliable. "Then he says: "But he done us a good turn with the spoon, anyway, without knowing it, and so we'll go and do him one without HIM knowingit--stop up his rat-holes. "

There was a noble good lot of them down cellar, and it took us a wholehour, but we done the job tight and good and shipshape. Then we heardsteps on the stairs, and blowed out our light and hid; and here comes theold man, with a candle in one hand and a bundle of stuff in t'other, looking as absent-minded as year before last. He went a mooning around, first to one rat-hole and then another, till he'd been to them all. Thenhe stood about five minutes, picking tallow-drip off of his candle andthinking. Then he turns off slow and dreamy towards the stairs, saying:

"Well, for the life of me I can't remember when I done it. I could showher now that I warn't to blame on account of the rats. But never mind--let it go. I reckon it wouldn't do no good. "

And so he went on a-mumbling up stairs, and then we left. He was amighty nice old man. And always is. 

Tom was a good deal bothered about what to do for a spoon, but he saidwe'd got to have it; so he took a think. When he had ciphered it out hetold me how we was to do; then we went and waited around the spoon-baskettill we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to counting the spoonsand laying them out to one side, and I slid one of them up my sleeve, andTom says:

"Why, Aunt Sally, there ain't but nine spoons YET. "

She says:

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

"Well, I've counted them twice, Aunty, and I can't make but nine. "

She looked out of all patience, but of course she come to count--anybodywould. 

"I declare to gracious ther' AIN'T but nine!" she says. "Why, what inthe world--plague TAKE the things, I'll count 'm again. "

So I slipped back the one I had, and when she got done counting, shesays:

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

"Why, Aunty, I don't think there's ten. "

"You numskull, didn't you see me COUNT 'm?"

"I know, but--"

"Well, I'll count 'm AGAIN. "

So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, she WAS in a tearing way--just a-trembling all over, she was so mad. Butshe counted and counted till she got that addled she'd start to count inthe basket for a spoon sometimes; and so, three times they come outright, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed up thebasket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat galley-west;and she said cle'r out and let her have some peace, and if we comebothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she'd skin us. So wehad the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apron-pocket whilst she wasa-giving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along with hershingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with thisbusiness, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, becausehe said NOW she couldn't ever count them spoons twice alike again to saveher life; and wouldn't believe she'd counted them right if she DID; andsaid that after she'd about counted her head off for the next three dayshe judged she'd give it up and offer to kill anybody that wanted her toever count them any more. 

So we put the sheet back on the line that night, and stole one out of hercloset; and kept on putting it back and stealing it again for a couple ofdays till she didn't know how many sheets she had any more, and shedidn't CARE, and warn't a-going to bullyrag the rest of her soul outabout it, and wouldn't count them again not to save her life; she drutherdie first. 

So we was all right now, as to the shirt and the sheet and the spoon andthe candles, by the help of the calf and the rats and the mixed-upcounting; and as to the candlestick, it warn't no consequence, it wouldblow over by and by. 

But that pie was a job; we had no end of trouble with that pie. We fixedit up away down in the woods, and cooked it there; and we got it done atlast, and very satisfactory, too; but not all in one day; and we had touse up three wash-pans full of flour before we got through, and we gotburnt 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'tprop it up right, and she would always cave in. But of course we thoughtof the right way at last--which was to cook the ladder, too, in thepie. So then we laid in with Jim the second night, and tore up the sheetall in little strings and twisted them together, and long before daylightwe had a lovely rope that you could a hung a person with. We let on ittook nine months to make it. 

And in the forenoon we took it down to the woods, but it wouldn't go intothe pie. Being made of a whole sheet, that way, there was rope enoughfor forty pies if we'd a wanted them, and plenty left over for soup, orsausage, or anything you choose. We could a had a whole dinner. 

But we didn't need it. All we needed was just enough for the pie, and so we throwed the rest away. We didn't cook none of the pies in thewash-pan--afraid the solder would melt; but Uncle Silas he had a noblebrass warming-pan which he thought considerable of, because it belongedto one of his ancesters with a long wooden handle that come over fromEngland with William the Conqueror in the Mayflower or one of them earlyships and was hid away up garret with a lot of other old pots and thingsthat was valuable, not on account of being any account, because theywarn't, but on account of them being relicts, you know, and we snaked herout, 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. Wetook and lined her with dough, and set her in the coals, and loaded herup with rag rope, and put on a dough roof, and shut down the lid, and puthot embers on top, and stood off five foot, with the long handle, cooland comfortable, and in fifteen minutes she turned out a pie that was asatisfaction to look at. But the person that et it would want to fetch acouple of kags of toothpicks along, for if that rope ladder wouldn'tcramp him down to business I don't know nothing what I'm talking about, and lay him in enough stomach-ache to last him till next time, too. 

Nat didn't look when we put the witch pie in Jim's pan; and we put thethree tin plates in the bottom of the pan under the vittles; and so Jimgot everything all right, and as soon as he was by himself he busted intothe pie and hid the rope ladder inside of his straw tick, and scratchedsome marks on a tin plate and throwed it out of the window-hole. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

MAKING them pens was a distressid tough job, and so was the saw; and Jimallowed the inscription was going to be the toughest of all. That's theone which the prisoner has to scrabble on the wall. But he had to haveit; Tom said he'd GOT to; there warn't no case of a state prisoner notscrabbling his inscription to leave behind, and his coat of arms. 

"Look at Lady Jane Grey, " he says; "look at Gilford Dudley; look at oldNorthumberland! Why, Huck, s'pose it IS considerble trouble?--what yougoing to do?--how you going to get around it? Jim's GOT to do hisinscription and coat of arms. They all do. "

Jim says:

"Why, Mars Tom, I hain't got no coat o' arm; I hain't got nuffn but dishyer ole shirt, en you knows I got to keep de journal on dat. "

"Oh, you don't understand, Jim; a coat of arms is very different. "

"Well, " I says, "Jim's right, anyway, when he says he ain't got no coatof arms, because he hain't. "

"I reckon I knowed that, " Tom says, "but you bet he'll have one before hegoes out of this--because he's going out RIGHT, and there ain't going tobe no flaws in his record. "

So whilst me and Jim filed away at the pens on a brickbat apiece, Jima-making his'n out of the brass and I making mine out of the spoon, Tomset to work to think out the coat of arms. By and by he said he'd struckso many good ones he didn't hardly know which to take, but there was onewhich he reckoned he'd decide on. He says:

"On the scutcheon we'll have a bend OR in the dexter base, a saltireMURREY in the fess, with a dog, couchant, for common charge, and underhis foot a chain embattled, for slavery, with a chevron VERT in a chiefengrailed, and three invected lines on a field AZURE, with the nombrilpoints rampant on a dancette indented; crest, a runaway nigger, SABLE, with his bundle over his shoulder on a bar sinister; and a couple ofgules for supporters, which is you and me; motto, MAGGIORE FRETTA, MINOREOTTO. Got it out of a book--means the more haste the less speed. "

"Geewhillikins, " I says, "but what does the rest of it mean?"

"We ain't got no time to bother over that, " he says; "we got to dig inlike all git-out. "

"Well, anyway, " I says, "what's SOME of it? What's a fess?"

"A fess--a fess is--YOU don't need to know what a fess is. I'll show himhow to make it when he gets to it. "

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

"Oh, I don't know. But he's got to have it. All the nobility does. "

That was just his way. If it didn't suit him to explain a thing to you, he wouldn't do it. You might pump at him a week, it wouldn't make nodifference. 

He'd got all that coat of arms business fixed, so now he started in tofinish up the rest of that part of the work, which was to plan out amournful inscription--said Jim got to have one, like they all done. Hemade up a lot, and wrote them out on a paper, and read them off, so:

1. Here a captive heart busted. 2. Here a poor prisoner, forsook by theworld and friends, fretted his sorrowful life. 3. Here a lonely heartbroke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after thirty-seven years ofsolitary captivity. 4. Here, homeless and friendless, after thirty-sevenyears of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger, natural son ofLouis XIV. 

Tom's voice trembled whilst he was reading them, and he most broke down. When he got done he couldn't no way make up his mind which one for Jim toscrabble on to the wall, they was all so good; but at last he allowed hewould let him scrabble them all on. Jim said it would take him a year toscrabble such a lot of truck on to the logs with a nail, and he didn'tknow how to make letters, besides; but Tom said he would block them outfor him, and then he wouldn't have nothing to do but just follow thelines. Then pretty soon he says:

"Come to think, the logs ain't a-going to do; they don't have log wallsin a dungeon: we got to dig the inscriptions into a rock. We'll fetch arock. "

Jim said the rock was worse than the logs; he said it would take him sucha pison long time to dig them into a rock he wouldn't ever get out. ButTom said he would let me help him do it. Then he took a look to see howme and Jim was getting along with the pens. It was most pesky tedioushard work and slow, and didn't give my hands no show to get well of thesores, 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 andmournful 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, andcarve the things on it, and file out the pens and the saw on it, too. "

It warn't no slouch of an idea; and it warn't no slouch of a grindstonenuther; but we allowed we'd tackle it. It warn't quite midnight yet, sowe cleared out for the mill, leaving Jim at work. We smouched thegrindstone, and set out to roll her home, but it was a most nation toughjob. 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 goingto get one of us, sure, before we got through. We got her half way; andthen we was plumb played out, and most drownded with sweat. We see itwarn't no use; we got to go and fetch Jim So he raised up his bed andslid the chain off of the bed-leg, and wrapt it round and round his neck, and we crawled out through our hole and down there, and Jim and me laidinto that grindstone and walked her along like nothing; and Tomsuperintended. He could out-superintend any boy I ever see. He knowedhow to do everything. 

Our hole was pretty big, but it warn't big enough to get the grindstonethrough; but Jim he took the pick and soon made it big enough. Then Tommarked 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 thelean-to for a hammer, and told him to work till the rest of his candlequit on him, and then he could go to bed, and hide the grindstone underhis straw tick and sleep on it. Then we helped him fix his chain back onthe bed-leg, and was ready for bed ourselves. But Tom thought ofsomething, and says:

"You got any spiders in here, Jim?"

"No, sah, thanks to goodness I hain't, Mars Tom. "

"All right, we'll get you some. "

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

Tom thought a minute or two, and says:

"It's a good idea. And I reckon it's been done. It MUST a been done; itstands to reason. Yes, it's a prime good idea. Where could you keepit?"

"Keep what, Mars Tom?"

"Why, a rattlesnake. "

"De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom! Why, if dey was a rattlesnake tocome in heah I'd take en bust right out thoo dat log wall, I would, widmy head. "

Why, Jim, you wouldn't be afraid of it after a little. You could tameit. "

"TAME it!"

"Yes--easy enough. Every animal is grateful for kindness and petting, and they wouldn't THINK of hurting a person that pets them. Any bookwill tell you that. You try--that's all I ask; just try for two or threedays. Why, you can get him so in a little while that he'll love you; andsleep with you; and won't stay away from you a minute; and will let youwrap 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 shovehis head in my mouf--fer a favor, hain't it? I lay he'd wait a pow'fullong time 'fo' I AST him. En mo' en dat, I doan' WANT him to sleep widme. "

"Jim, don't act so foolish. A prisoner's GOT to have some kind of a dumbpet, and if a rattlesnake hain't ever been tried, why, there's more gloryto be gained in your being the first to ever try it than any other wayyou could ever think of to save your life. "

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

"Blame it, can't you TRY? I only WANT you to try--you needn't keep it upif 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, butef you en Huck fetches a rattlesnake in heah for me to tame, I's gwyne toLEAVE, dat's SHORE. "

"Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you're so bull-headed about it. Wecan get you some garter-snakes, and you can tie some buttons on theirtails, and let on they're rattlesnakes, and I reckon that 'll have todo. "

"I k'n stan' DEM, Mars Tom, but blame' 'f I couldn' get along widout um, I tell you dat. I never knowed b'fo' 't was so much bother and troubleto be a prisoner. "

"Well, it ALWAYS is when it's done right. You got any rats around here?"

"No, sah, I hain't seed none. "

"Well, we'll get you some rats. "

"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' WANT no rats. Dey's de dadblamedest creturs to'sturb a body, en rustle roun' over 'im, en bite his feet, when he'stryin' to sleep, I ever see. No, sah, gimme g'yarter-snakes, 'f I's gotto have 'm, but doan' gimme no rats; I hain' got no use f'r um, skasely. "

"But, Jim, you GOT to have 'em--they all do. So don't make no more fussabout it. Prisoners ain't ever without rats. There ain't no instance ofit. And they train them, and pet them, and learn them tricks, and theyget to be as sociable as flies. But you got to play music to them. Yougot anything to play music on?"

"I ain' got nuffn but a coase comb en a piece o' paper, en a juice-harp;but I reck'n dey wouldn' take no stock in a juice-harp. "

"Yes they would. THEY don't care what kind of music 'tis. A jews-harp'splenty good enough for a rat. All animals like music--in a prison theydote on it. Specially, painful music; and you can't get no other kindout of a jews-harp. It always interests them; they come out to seewhat's the matter with you. Yes, you're all right; you're fixed verywell. You want to set on your bed nights before you go to sleep, andearly in the mornings, and play your jews-harp; play 'The Last Link isBroken'--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 thesnakes, and spiders, and things begin to feel worried about you, andcome. And they'll just fairly swarm over you, and have a noble goodtime. "

"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 Ibetter 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; andpretty soon he says:

"Oh, there's one thing I forgot. Could you raise a flower here, do youreckon?"

"I doan know but maybe I could, Mars Tom; but it's tolable dark in heah, en I ain' got no use f'r no flower, nohow, en she'd be a pow'ful sight o'trouble. "

"Well, you try it, anyway. Some other prisoners has done it. "

"One er dem big cat-tail-lookin' mullen-stalks would grow in heah, MarsTom, I reck'n, but she wouldn't be wuth half de trouble she'd coss. "

"Don't you believe it. We'll fetch you a little one and you plant it inthe corner over there, and raise it. And don't call it mullen, call itPitchiola--that's its right name when it's in a prison. And you want towater it with your tears. "

"Why, I got plenty spring water, Mars Tom. "

"You don't WANT spring water; you want to water it with your tears. It'sthe way they always do. "

"Why, Mars Tom, I lay I kin raise one er dem mullen-stalks twyste widspring water whiles another man's a START'N one wid tears. "

"That ain't the idea. You GOT to do it with tears. "

"She'll die on my han's, Mars Tom, she sholy will; kase I doan' skaselyever cry. "

So Tom was stumped. But he studied it over, and then said Jim would haveto worry along the best he could with an onion. He promised he would goto the nigger cabins and drop one, private, in Jim's coffee-pot, in themorning. 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 raisingthe mullen, and jews-harping the rats, and petting and flattering up thesnakes and spiders and things, on top of all the other work he had to doon pens, and inscriptions, and journals, and things, which made it moretrouble and worry and responsibility to be a prisoner than anything heever undertook, that Tom most lost all patience with him; and said he wasjust loadened down with more gaudier chances than a prisoner ever had inthe world to make a name for himself, and yet he didn't know enough toappreciate them, and they was just about wasted on him. So Jim he wassorry, and said he wouldn't behave so no more, and then me and Tom shovedfor bed. 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

IN the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rat-trap andfetched it down, and unstopped the best rat-hole, and in about an hour wehad fifteen of the bulliest kind of ones; and then we took it and put itin a safe place under Aunt Sally's bed. But while we was gone forspiders little Thomas Franklin Benjamin Jefferson Elexander Phelps foundit 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 wasa-standing on top of the bed raising Cain, and the rats was doing whatthey could to keep off the dull times for her. So she took and dusted usboth with the hickry, and we was as much as two hours catching anotherfifteen or sixteen, drat that meddlesome cub, and they warn't thelikeliest, nuther, because the first haul was the pick of the flock. I never see a likelier lot of rats than what that first haul was. 

We got a splendid stock of sorted spiders, and bugs, and frogs, andcaterpillars, and one thing or another; and we like to got a hornet'snest, but we didn't. The family was at home. We didn't give it rightup, but stayed with them as long as we could; because we allowed we'dtire them out or they'd got to tire us out, and they done it. Then wegot allycumpain and rubbed on the places, and was pretty near all rightagain, but couldn't set down convenient. And so we went for the snakes, and grabbed a couple of dozen garters and house-snakes, and put them in abag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was supper-time, and arattling good honest day's work: and hungry?--oh, no, I reckon not! Andthere warn't a blessed snake up there when we went back--we didn't halftie the sack, and they worked out somehow, and left. But it didn'tmatter much, because they was still on the premises somewheres. So wejudged we could get some of them again. No, there warn't no realscarcity of snakes about the house for a considerable spell. You'd seethem dripping from the rafters and places every now and then; and theygenerly landed in your plate, or down the back of your neck, and most ofthe time where you didn't want them. Well, they was handsome andstriped, and there warn't no harm in a million of them; but that nevermade no difference to Aunt Sally; she despised snakes, be the breed whatthey might, and she couldn't stand them no way you could fix it; andevery time one of them flopped down on her, it didn't make no differencewhat she was doing, she would just lay that work down and light out. Inever see such a woman. And you could hear her whoop to Jericho. Youcouldn't get her to take a-holt of one of them with the tongs. And ifshe turned over and found one in bed she would scramble out and lift ahowl that you would think the house was afire. She disturbed the old manso that he said he could most wish there hadn't ever been no snakescreated. Why, after every last snake had been gone clear out of thehouse for as much as a week Aunt Sally warn't over it yet; she warn'tnear over it; when she was setting thinking about something you couldtouch her on the back of her neck with a feather and she would jump rightout of her stockings. It was very curious. But Tom said all women wasjust so. He said they was made that way for some reason or other. 

We got a licking every time one of our snakes come in her way, and sheallowed these lickings warn't nothing to what she would do if we everloaded up the place again with them. I didn't mind the lickings, becausethey didn't amount to nothing; but I minded the trouble we had to lay inanother lot. But we got them laid in, and all the other things; and younever see a cabin as blithesome as Jim's was when they'd all swarm outfor music and go for him. Jim didn't like the spiders, and the spidersdidn't like Jim; and so they'd lay for him, and make it mighty warm forhim. And he said that between the rats and the snakes and the grindstonethere warn't no room in bed for him, skasely; and when there was, a bodycouldn'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 whenthe snakes was asleep the rats was on deck, and when the rats turned inthe snakes come on watch, so he always had one gang under him, in hisway, and t'other gang having a circus over him, and if he got up to hunta 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 prisoneragain, not for a salary. 

Well, by the end of three weeks everything was in pretty good shape. Theshirt was sent in early, in a pie, and every time a rat bit Jim he wouldget up and write a little in his journal whilst the ink was fresh; thepens was made, the inscriptions and so on was all carved on thegrindstone; the bed-leg was sawed in two, and we had et up the sawdust, and it give us a most amazing stomach-ache. We reckoned we was all goingto die, but didn't. It was the most undigestible sawdust I ever see; andTom 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. Theold man had wrote a couple of times to the plantation below Orleans tocome and get their runaway nigger, but hadn't got no answer, becausethere warn't no such plantation; so he allowed he would advertise Jim inthe St. Louis and New Orleans papers; and when he mentioned the St. Louisones it give me the cold shivers, and I see we hadn't no time to lose. So Tom said, now for the nonnamous letters. 

"What's them?" I says. 

"Warnings to the people that something is up. Sometimes it's done oneway, sometimes another. But there's always somebody spying around thatgives notice to the governor of the castle. When Louis XVI. Was going tolight out of the Tooleries a servant-girl done it. It's a very good way, and so is the nonnamous letters. We'll use them both. And it's usualfor the prisoner's mother to change clothes with him, and she stays in, and he slides out in her clothes. We'll do that, too. "

"But looky here, Tom, what do we want to WARN anybody for thatsomething's up? Let them find it out for themselves--it's theirlookout. "

"Yes, I know; but you can't depend on them. It's the way they've actedfrom the very start--left us to do EVERYTHING. They're so confiding andmullet-headed they don't take notice of nothing at all. So if we don'tGIVE 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 offperfectly flat; won't amount to nothing--won't be nothing TO it. "

"Well, as for me, Tom, that's the way I'd like. "

"Shucks!" he says, and looked disgusted. So I says:

"But I ain't going to make no complaint. Any way that suits you suitsme. What you going to do about the servant-girl?"

"You'll be her. You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook thatyaller girl's frock. "

"Why, Tom, that 'll make trouble next morning; because, of course, sheprob'bly hain't got any but that one. "

"I know; but you don't want it but fifteen minutes, to carry thenonnamous letter and shove it under the front door. "

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

"You wouldn't look like a servant-girl THEN, would you?"

"No, but there won't be nobody to see what I look like, ANYWAY. "

"That ain't got nothing to do with it. The thing for us to do is just todo our DUTY, and not worry about whether anybody SEES us do it or not. Hain't you got no principle at all?"

"All right, I ain't saying nothing; I'm the servant-girl. Who's Jim'smother?"

"I'm his mother. I'll hook a gown from Aunt Sally. "

"Well, then, you'll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves. "

"Not much. I'll stuff Jim's clothes full of straw and lay it on his bedto represent his mother in disguise, and Jim 'll take the nigger woman'sgown off of me and wear it, and we'll all evade together. When aprisoner of style escapes it's called an evasion. It's always called sowhen a king escapes, f'rinstance. And the same with a king's son; itdon'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'sfrock that night, and put it on, and shoved it under the front door, theway Tom told me to. It said:

Beware. Trouble is brewing. Keep a sharp lookout. UNKNOWN FRIEND. 

Next night we stuck a picture, which Tom drawed in blood, of a skull andcrossbones on the front door; and next night another one of a coffin onthe back door. I never see a family in such a sweat. They couldn't abeen worse scared if the place had a been full of ghosts laying for thembehind everything and under the beds and shivering through the air. If adoor banged, Aunt Sally she jumped and said "ouch!" if anything fell, shejumped and said "ouch!" if you happened to touch her, when she warn'tnoticing, she done the same; she couldn't face noway and be satisfied, because she allowed there was something behind her every time--so she wasalways a-whirling around sudden, and saying "ouch, " and before she'd gottwo-thirds around she'd whirl back again, and say it again; and she wasafraid to go to bed, but she dasn't set up. So the thing was workingvery well, Tom said; he said he never see a thing work more satisfactory. He said it showed it was done right. 

So he said, now for the grand bulge! So the very next morning at thestreak of dawn we got another letter ready, and was wondering what webetter do with it, because we heard them say at supper they was going tohave a nigger on watch at both doors all night. Tom he went down thelightning-rod to spy around; and the nigger at the back door was asleep, and he stuck it in the back of his neck and come back. This letter said:

Don't betray me, I wish to be your friend. There is a desprate gang ofcut-throats from over in the Indian Territory going to steal your runawaynigger to-night, and they have been trying to scare you so as you willstay in the house and not bother them. I am one of the gang, but havegot religgion and wish to quit it and lead an honest life again, and willbetray the helish design. They will sneak down from northards, along thefence, at midnight exact, with a false key, and go in the nigger's cabinto get him. I am to be off a piece and blow a tin horn if I see anydanger; but stead of that I will BA like a sheep soon as they get in andnot blow at all; then whilst they are getting his chains loose, you slipthere and lock them in, and can kill them at your leasure. Don't doanything but just the way I am telling you; if you do they will suspicionsomething and raise whoop-jamboreehoo. I do not wish any reward but toknow I have done the right thing. UNKNOWN FRIEND. 

CHAPTER XL. 

WE was feeling pretty good after breakfast, and took my canoe and wentover the river a-fishing, with a lunch, and had a good time, and took alook 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 theywas standing on, and made us go right off to bed the minute we was donesupper, and wouldn't tell us what the trouble was, and never let on aword about the new letter, but didn't need to, because we knowed as muchabout it as anybody did, and as soon as we was half up stairs and herback was turned we slid for the cellar cupboard and loaded up a goodlunch and took it up to our room and went to bed, and got up abouthalf-past eleven, and Tom put on Aunt Sally's dress that he stole andwas going to start with the lunch, but says:

"Where's the butter?"

"I laid out a hunk of it, " I says, "on a piece of a corn-pone. "

"Well, you LEFT it laid out, then--it ain't here. "

"We can get along without it, " I says. 

"We can get along WITH it, too, " he says; "just you slide down cellar andfetch it. And then mosey right down the lightning-rod and come along. I'll go and stuff the straw into Jim's clothes to represent his mother indisguise, and be ready to BA like a sheep and shove soon as you getthere. "

So out he went, and down cellar went I. The hunk of butter, big as aperson's fist, was where I had left it, so I took up the slab ofcorn-pone with it on, and blowed out my light, and started up stairs verystealthy, and got up to the main floor all right, but here comes AuntSally with a candle, and I clapped the truck in my hat, and clapped myhat on my head, and the next second she see me; and she says:

"You been down cellar?"

"Yes'm. "

"What you been doing down there?"

"Noth'n. "

"NOTH'N!"

"No'm. "

"Well, then, what possessed you to go down there this time of night?"

"I don't know 'm. "

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

"I hain't been doing a single thing, Aunt Sally, I hope to gracious if Ihave. "

I reckoned she'd let me go now, and as a generl thing she would; but Is'pose there was so many strange things going on she was just in a sweatabout every little thing that warn't yard-stick straight; so she says, very decided:

"You just march into that setting-room and stay there till I come. Youbeen up to something you no business to, and I lay I'll find out what itis before I'M done with you. "

So she went away as I opened the door and walked into the setting-room. My, but there was a crowd there! Fifteen farmers, and every one of themhad 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, andputting them on, and scratching their heads, and changing their seats, and fumbling with their buttons. I warn't easy myself, but I didn't takemy hat off, all the same. 

I did wish Aunt Sally would come, and get done with me, and lick me, ifshe wanted to, and let me get away and tell Tom how we'd overdone thisthing, and what a thundering hornet's-nest we'd got ourselves into, so wecould stop fooling around straight off, and clear out with Jim beforethese rips got out of patience and come for us. 

At last she come and begun to ask me questions, but I COULDN'T answerthem straight, I didn't know which end of me was up; because these menwas in such a fidget now that some was wanting to start right NOW and layfor 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 thesheep-signal; and here was Aunty pegging away at the questions, and mea-shaking all over and ready to sink down in my tracks I was that scared;and the place getting hotter and hotter, and the butter beginning to meltand run down my neck and behind my ears; and pretty soon, when one ofthem 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 buttercome a-trickling down my forehead, and Aunt Sally she see it, and turnswhite as a sheet, and says:

"For the land's sake, what IS the matter with the child? He's got thebrain-fever as shore as you're born, and they're oozing out!"

And everybody runs to see, and she snatches off my hat, and out comes thebread and what was left of the butter, and she grabbed me, and hugged me, and says:

"Oh, what a turn you did give me! and how glad and grateful I am it ain'tno worse; for luck's against us, and it never rains but it pours, andwhen I see that truck I thought we'd lost you, for I knowed by the colorand all it was just like your brains would be if--Dear, dear, whyd'nt youTELL me that was what you'd been down there for, I wouldn't a cared. Nowcler out to bed, and don't lemme see no more of you till morning!"

I was up stairs in a second, and down the lightning-rod in another one, and shinning through the dark for the lean-to. I couldn't hardly get mywords out, I was so anxious; but I told Tom as quick as I could we mustjump for it now, and not a minute to lose--the house full of men, yonder, with guns!

His eyes just blazed; and he says:

"No!--is that so? AIN'T it bully! Why, Huck, if it was to do overagain, I bet I could fetch two hundred! If we could put it off till--"

"Hurry! HURRY!" I says. "Where's Jim?"

"Right at your elbow; if you reach out your arm you can touch him. He'sdressed, and everything's ready. Now we'll slide out and give thesheep-signal. "

But then we heard the tramp of men coming to the door, and heard thembegin to fumble with the pad-lock, and heard a man say:

"I TOLD you we'd be too soon; they haven't come--the door is locked. Here, I'll lock some of you into the cabin, and you lay for 'em in thedark and kill 'em when they come; and the rest scatter around a piece, and listen if you can hear 'em coming. "

So in they come, but couldn't see us in the dark, and most trod on uswhilst 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 Tomlast, which was according to Tom's orders. Now we was in the lean-to, and heard trampings close by outside. So we crept to the door, and Tomstopped us there and put his eye to the crack, but couldn't make outnothing, it was so dark; and whispered and said he would listen for thesteps to get further, and when he nudged us Jim must glide out first, andhim last. So he set his ear to the crack and listened, and listened, andlistened, and the steps a-scraping around out there all the time; and atlast he nudged us, and we slid out, and stooped down, not breathing, andnot making the least noise, and slipped stealthy towards the fence inInjun file, and got to it all right, and me and Jim over it; but Tom'sbritches catched fast on a splinter on the top rail, and then he hear thesteps coming, so he had to pull loose, which snapped the splinter andmade a noise; and as he dropped in our tracks and started somebody singsout:

"Who's that? Answer, or I'll shoot!"

But we didn't answer; we just unfurled our heels and shoved. Then therewas a rush, and a BANG, BANG, BANG! and the bullets fairly whizzed aroundus! We heard them sing out:

"Here they are! They've broke for the river! After 'em, boys, and turnloose the dogs!"

So here they come, full tilt. We could hear them because they wore bootsand yelled, but we didn't wear no boots and didn't yell. We was in thepath to the mill; and when they got pretty close on to us we dodged intothe bush and let them go by, and then dropped in behind them. They'd hadall the dogs shut up, so they wouldn't scare off the robbers; but by thistime somebody had let them loose, and here they come, making powwowenough for a million; but they was our dogs; so we stopped in our trackstill they catched up; and when they see it warn't nobody but us, and noexcitement to offer them, they only just said howdy, and tore right aheadtowards the shouting and clattering; and then we up-steam again, andwhizzed along after them till we was nearly to the mill, and then struckup through the bush to where my canoe was tied, and hopped in and pulledfor dear life towards the middle of the river, but didn't make no morenoise 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 andbarking at each other all up and down the bank, till we was so far awaythe sounds got dim and died out. And when we stepped on to the raft Isays:

"NOW, old Jim, you're a free man again, and I bet you won't ever be aslave no more. "

"En a mighty good job it wuz, too, Huck. It 'uz planned beautiful, en it'uz done beautiful; en dey ain't NOBODY kin git up a plan dat's mo'mixed-up en splendid den what dat one wuz. "

We was all glad as we could be, but Tom was the gladdest of all becausehe 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 thewigwam and tore up one of the duke's shirts for to bandage him, but hesays:

"Gimme the rags; I can do it myself. Don't stop now; don't fool aroundhere, and the evasion booming along so handsome; man the sweeps, and sether loose! Boys, we done it elegant!--'deed we did. I wish WE'D a hadthe 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 whoopedhim over the BORDER--that's what we'd a done with HIM--and done it justas 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 aminute, I says:

"Say it, Jim. "

So he says:

"Well, den, dis is de way it look to me, Huck. Ef it wuz HIM dat 'uzbein' sot free, en one er de boys wuz to git shot, would he say, 'Go onen save me, nemmine 'bout a doctor f'r to save dis one?' Is dat likeMars Tom Sawyer? Would he say dat? You BET he wouldn't! WELL, den, isJIM gywne to say it? No, sah--I doan' budge a step out'n dis place 'douta DOCTOR, not if it's forty year!"

I knowed he was white inside, and I reckoned he'd say what he did say--soit was all right now, and I told Tom I was a-going for a doctor. Heraised considerable row about it, but me and Jim stuck to it and wouldn'tbudge; so he was for crawling out and setting the raft loose himself; butwe wouldn't let him. Then he give us a piece of his mind, but it didn'tdo no good. 

So when he sees me getting the canoe ready, he says:

"Well, then, if you re bound to go, I'll tell you the way to do when youget to the village. Shut the door and blindfold the doctor tight andfast, and make him swear to be silent as the grave, and put a purse fullof gold in his hand, and then take and lead him all around the backalleys 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 hischalk away from him, and don't give it back to him till you get him backto the village, or else he will chalk this raft so he can find it again. It's the way they all do. "

So I said I would, and left, and Jim was to hide in the woods when he seethe doctor coming till he was gone again. 

CHAPTER XLI. 

THE doctor was an old man; a very nice, kind-looking old man when I gothim up. I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island huntingyesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and aboutmidnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and shothim in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and not saynothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to come homethis evening and surprise the folks. 

"Who is your folks?" he says. 

"The Phelpses, down yonder. "

"Oh, " he says. And after a minute, he says:

"How'd you say he got shot?"

"He had a dream, " I says, "and it shot him. "

"Singular dream, " he says. 

So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. Butwhen he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her--said she was bigenough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two. I says:

"Oh, you needn't be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easyenough. "

"What three?"

"Why, me and Sid, and--and--and THE GUNS; that's what I mean. "

"Oh, " he says. 

But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, andsaid he reckoned he'd look around for a bigger one. But they was alllocked and chained; so he took my canoe, and said for me to wait till hecome back, or I could hunt around further, or maybe I better go down homeand 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 thatleg just in three shakes of a sheep's tail, as the saying is? spos'n ittakes him three or four days? What are we going to do?--lay around theretill he lets the cat out of the bag? No, sir; I know what I'LL do. I'llwait, and when he comes back if he says he's got to go any more I'll getdown there, too, if I swim; and we'll take and tie him, and keep him, andshove out down the river; and when Tom's done with him we'll give himwhat it's worth, or all we got, and then let him get ashore. 

So then I crept into a lumber-pile to get some sleep; and next time Iwaked up the sun was away up over my head! I shot out and went for thedoctor's house, but they told me he'd gone away in the night some time orother, and warn't back yet. Well, thinks I, that looks powerful bad forTom, and I'll dig out for the island right off. So away I shoved, andturned the corner, and nearly rammed my head into Uncle Silas's stomach!He says:

"Why, TOM! Where you been all this time, you rascal?"

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

"Why, where ever did you go?" he says. "Your aunt's been mighty uneasy. "

"She needn't, " I says, "because we was all right. We followed the menand the dogs, but they outrun us, and we lost them; but we thought weheard them on the water, so we got a canoe and took out after them andcrossed over, but couldn't find nothing of them; so we cruised alongup-shore till we got kind of tired and beat out; and tied up the canoeand went to sleep, and never waked up till about an hour ago; then wepaddled over here to hear the news, and Sid's at the post-office to seewhat he can hear, and I'm a-branching out to get something to eat for us, and then we're going home. "

So then we went to the post-office to get "Sid"; but just as Isuspicioned, he warn't there; so the old man he got a letter out of theoffice, and we waited awhile longer, but Sid didn't come; so the old mansaid, come along, let Sid foot it home, or canoe it, when he got donefooling around--but we would ride. I couldn't get him to let me stay andwait for Sid; and he said there warn't no use in it, and I must comealong, and let Aunt Sally see we was all right. 

When we got home Aunt Sally was that glad to see me she laughed and criedboth, and hugged me, and give me one of them lickings of hern that don'tamount to shucks, and said she'd serve Sid the same when he come. 

And the place was plum full of farmers and farmers' wives, to dinner; andsuch another clack a body never heard. Old Mrs. Hotchkiss was the worst;her tongue was a-going all the time. She says:

"Well, Sister Phelps, I've ransacked that-air cabin over, an' I b'lievethe nigger was crazy. I says to Sister Damrell--didn't I, SisterDamrell?--s'I, he's crazy, s'I--them's the very words I said. You allhearn me: he's crazy, s'I; everything shows it, s'I. Look at that-airgrindstone, s'I; want to tell ME't any cretur 't's in his right mind 's agoin' to scrabble all them crazy things onto a grindstone, s'I? Heresich 'n' sich a person busted his heart; 'n' here so 'n' so pegged alongfor thirty-seven year, 'n' all that--natcherl son o' Louis somebody, 'n'sich everlast'n rubbage. He's plumb crazy, s'I; it's what I says in thefust place, it's what I says in the middle, 'n' it's what I says last 'n'all the time--the nigger's crazy--crazy 's Nebokoodneezer, s'I. "

"An' look at that-air ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss, " says oldMrs. Damrell; "what in the name o' goodness COULD he ever want of--"

"The very words I was a-sayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to SisterUtterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself. Sh-she, look at that-air ragladder, sh-she; 'n' s'I, yes, LOOK at it, s'I--what COULD he a-wanted ofit, s'I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she--"

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

"My very WORDS, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin'--pass that-air sasser o'm'lasses, won't ye?--I was a-sayin' to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, how DID they git that grindstone in there, s'I. Without HELP, mind you--'thout HELP! THAT'S wher 'tis. Don't tell ME, s'I; there WUZ help, s'I; 'n' ther' wuz a PLENTY help, too, s'I; ther's ben a DOZEN a-helpin'that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on this place but I'Dfind out who done it, s'I; 'n' moreover, s'I--"

"A DOZEN says you!--FORTY couldn't a done every thing that's been done. Look at them case-knife saws and things, how tedious they've been made;look at that bed-leg sawed off with 'm, a week's work for six men; lookat that nigger made out'n straw on the bed; and look at--"

"You may WELL say it, Brer Hightower! It's jist as I was a-sayin' toBrer Phelps, his own self. S'e, what do YOU think of it, SisterHotchkiss, s'e? Think o' what, Brer Phelps, s'I? Think o' that bed-legsawed off that a way, s'e? THINK of it, s'I? I lay it never sawedITSELF off, s'I--somebody SAWED it, s'I; that's my opinion, take it orleave it, it mayn't be no 'count, s'I, but sich as 't is, it's myopinion, s'I, 'n' if any body k'n start a better one, s'I, let him DO it, s'I, that's all. I says to Sister Dunlap, s'I--"

"Why, dog my cats, they must a ben a house-full o' niggers in there everynight for four weeks to a done all that work, Sister Phelps. Look atthat shirt--every last inch of it kivered over with secret African writ'ndone with blood! Must a ben a raft uv 'm at it right along, all thetime, amost. Why, I'd give two dollars to have it read to me; 'n' as forthe 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 ifyou'd a been in this house for a while back. Why, they've stoleeverything they could lay their hands on--and we a-watching all the time, mind you. They stole that shirt right off o' the line! and as for thatsheet they made the rag ladder out of, ther' ain't no telling how manytimes they DIDN'T steal that; and flour, and candles, and candlesticks, and spoons, and the old warming-pan, and most a thousand things that Idisremember now, and my new calico dress; and me and Silas and my Sid andTom on the constant watch day AND night, as I was a-telling you, and nota one of us could catch hide nor hair nor sight nor sound of them; andhere at the last minute, lo and behold you, they slides right in underour noses and fools us, and not only fools US but the Injun Territoryrobbers too, and actuly gets AWAY with that nigger safe and sound, andthat with sixteen men and twenty-two dogs right on their very heels atthat 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 reckonthey must a BEEN sperits--because, YOU know our dogs, and ther' ain't nobetter; well, them dogs never even got on the TRACK of 'm once! Youexplain THAT to me if you can!--ANY of you!"

"Well, it does beat--"

"Laws alive, I never--"

"So help me, I wouldn't a be--"

"HOUSE-thieves as well as--"

"Goodnessgracioussakes, I'd a ben afeard to live in sich a--"

"'Fraid to LIVE!--why, I was that scared I dasn't hardly go to bed, orget up, or lay down, or SET down, Sister Ridgeway. Why, they'd steal thevery--why, goodness sakes, you can guess what kind of a fluster I wasin by the time midnight come last night. I hope to gracious if I warn'tafraid they'd steal some o' the family! I was just to that pass I didn'thave no reasoning faculties no more. It looks foolish enough NOW, in thedaytime; but I says to myself, there's my two poor boys asleep, 'way upstairs 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 toyourself, spos'n I was a boy, and was away up there, and the door ain'tlocked, and you--" She stopped, looking kind of wondering, and then sheturned her head around slow, and when her eye lit on me--I got up andtook a walk. 

Says I to myself, I can explain better how we come to not be in that roomthis morning if I go out to one side and study over it a little. So Idone it. But I dasn't go fur, or she'd a sent for me. And when it waslate in the day the people all went, and then I come in and told her thenoise and shooting waked up me and "Sid, " and the door was locked, and wewanted to see the fun, so we went down the lightning-rod, and both of usgot hurt a little, and we didn't never want to try THAT no more. Andthen I went on and told her all what I told Uncle Silas before; and thenshe said she'd forgive us, and maybe it was all right enough anyway, andabout what a body might expect of boys, for all boys was a prettyharum-scarum lot as fur as she could see; and so, as long as no harmhadn't come of it, she judged she better put in her time being gratefulwe was alive and well and she had us still, stead of fretting over whatwas past and done. So then she kissed me, and patted me on the head, anddropped 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 becomeof that boy?"

I see my chance; so I skips up and says:

"I'll run right up to town and get him, " I says. 

"No you won't, " she says. "You'll stay right wher' you are; ONE'S enoughto be lost at a time. If he ain't here to supper, your uncle 'll go. "

Well, he warn't there to supper; so right after supper uncle went. 

He come back about ten a little bit uneasy; hadn't run across Tom'strack. Aunt Sally was a good DEAL uneasy; but Uncle Silas he said therewarn't no occasion to be--boys will be boys, he said, and you'll see thisone turn up in the morning all sound and right. So she had to besatisfied. But she said she'd set up for him a while anyway, and keep alight burning so he could see it. 

And then when I went up to bed she come up with me and fetched hercandle, and tucked me in, and mothered me so good I felt mean, and like Icouldn't look her in the face; and she set down on the bed and talkedwith me a long time, and said what a splendid boy Sid was, and didn'tseem to want to ever stop talking about him; and kept asking me every nowand 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 shenot by him to help him, and so the tears would drip down silent, and Iwould 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 sayit again, and keep on saying it, because it done her good, and she was inso much trouble. And when she was going away she looked down in my eyesso steady and gentle, and says:

"The door ain't going to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and therod; but you'll be good, WON'T you? And you won't go? For MY sake. "

Laws knows I WANTED to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was allintending to go; but after that I wouldn't a went, not for kingdoms. 

But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless. And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped aroundfront, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with hereyes towards the road and the tears in them; and I wished I could dosomething for her, but I couldn't, only to swear that I wouldn't never donothing 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, andher old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep. 

CHAPTER XLII. 

THE old man was uptown again before breakfast, but couldn't get no trackof Tom; and both of them set at the table thinking, and not sayingnothing, and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold, and noteating anything. And by and by the old man says:

"Did I give you the letter?"

"What letter?"

"The one I got yesterday out of the post-office. "

"No, you didn't give me no letter. "

"Well, I must a forgot it. "

So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he hadlaid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her. She says:

"Why, it's from St. Petersburg--it's from Sis. "

I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn't stir. But beforeshe 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; andJim, in HER calico dress, with his hands tied behind him; and a lot ofpeople. I hid the letter behind the first thing that come handy, andrushed. She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says:

"Oh, he's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead!"

And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, which showed he warn't in his right mind; then she flung up her hands, and says:

"He's alive, thank God! And that's enough!" and she snatched a kiss ofhim, and flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering ordersright and left at the niggers and everybody else, as fast as her tonguecould go, every jump of the way. 

I followed the men to see what they was going to do with Jim; and the olddoctor and Uncle Silas followed after Tom into the house. The men wasvery huffy, and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example to all theother niggers around there, so they wouldn't be trying to run away likeJim done, and making such a raft of trouble, and keeping a whole familyscared most to death for days and nights. But the others said, don't doit, it wouldn't answer at all; he ain't our nigger, and his owner wouldturn up and make us pay for him, sure. So that cooled them down alittle, because the people that's always the most anxious for to hang anigger that hain't done just right is always the very ones that ain't themost anxious to pay for him when they've got their satisfaction out ofhim. 

They cussed Jim considerble, though, and give him a cuff or two side thehead once in a while, but Jim never said nothing, and he never let on toknow me, and they took him to the same cabin, and put his own clothes onhim, and chained him again, and not to no bed-leg this time, but to a bigstaple drove into the bottom log, and chained his hands, too, and bothlegs, and said he warn't to have nothing but bread and water to eat afterthis till his owner come, or he was sold at auction because he didn'tcome in a certain length of time, and filled up our hole, and said acouple of farmers with guns must stand watch around about the cabin everynight, and a bulldog tied to the door in the daytime; and about this timethey was through with the job and was tapering off with a kind of generlgood-bye cussing, and then the old doctor comes and takes a look, andsays:

"Don't be no rougher on him than you're obleeged to, because he ain't abad nigger. When I got to where I found the boy I see I couldn't cut thebullet out without some help, and he warn't in no condition for me toleave 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 comea-nigh him any more, and said if I chalked his raft he'd kill me, and noend of wild foolishness like that, and I see I couldn't do anything atall with him; so I says, I got to have HELP somehow; and the minute Isays it out crawls this nigger from somewheres and says he'll help, andhe done it, too, and done it very well. Of course I judged he must be arunaway nigger, and there I WAS! and there I had to stick right straightalong 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 torun up to town and see them, but I dasn't, because the nigger might getaway, and then I'd be to blame; and yet never a skiff come close enoughfor me to hail. So there I had to stick plumb until daylight thismorning; 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 thenigger for that; I tell you, gentlemen, a nigger like that is worth athousand 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 myhands, and there I had to stick till about dawn this morning; then somemen in a skiff come by, and as good luck would have it the nigger wassetting by the pallet with his head propped on his knees sound asleep; soI motioned them in quiet, and they slipped up on him and grabbed him andtied 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 oarsand hitched the raft on, and towed her over very nice and quiet, and thenigger never made the least row nor said a word from the start. He ain'tno bad nigger, gentlemen; that's what I think about him. "

Somebody says:

"Well, it sounds very good, doctor, I'm obleeged to say. "

Then the others softened up a little, too, and I was mighty thankful tothat old doctor for doing Jim that good turn; and I was glad it wasaccording to my judgment of him, too; because I thought he had a goodheart in him and was a good man the first time I see him. Then they allagreed that Jim had acted very well, and was deserving to have somenotice took of it, and reward. So every one of them promised, right outand hearty, that they wouldn't cuss him no more. 

Then they come out and locked him up. I hoped they was going to say hecould have one or two of the chains took off, because they was rottenheavy, or could have meat and greens with his bread and water; but theydidn't think of it, and I reckoned it warn't best for me to mix in, but Ijudged I'd get the doctor's yarn to Aunt Sally somehow or other as soonas 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 shotwhen I was telling how him and me put in that dratted night paddlingaround hunting the runaway nigger. 

But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sick-room all day andall night, and every time I see Uncle Silas mooning around I dodged him. 

Next morning I heard Tom was a good deal better, and they said Aunt Sallywas gone to get a nap. So I slips to the sick-room, and if I found himawake 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, notfire-faced the way he was when he come. So I set down and laid for himto wake. In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding in, and there Iwas, 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 allthe symptoms was first-rate, and he'd been sleeping like that for ever solong, and looking better and peacefuller all the time, and ten to onehe'd wake up in his right mind. 

So we set there watching, and by and by he stirs a bit, and opened hiseyes very natural, and takes a look, and says:

"Hello!--why, I'm at HOME! How's that? Where's the raft?"

"It's all right, " I says. 

"And JIM?"

"The same, " I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash. But he nevernoticed, but says:

"Good! Splendid! NOW we're all right and safe! Did you tell Aunty?"

I was going to say yes; but she chipped in and says: "About what, Sid?"

"Why, about the way the whole thing was done. "

"What whole thing?"

"Why, THE whole thing. There ain't but one; how we set the runawaynigger 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 DIDset him free--me and Tom. We laid out to do it, and we DONE it. And wedone 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 itwarn'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 yourdress, and spoons, and tin plates, and case-knives, and the warming-pan, and the grindstone, and flour, and just no end of things, and you can'tthink what work it was to make the saws, and pens, and inscriptions, andone thing or another, and you can't think HALF the fun it was. And wehad to make up the pictures of coffins and things, and nonnamous lettersfrom the robbers, and get up and down the lightning-rod, and dig the holeinto the cabin, and made the rope ladder and send it in cooked up in apie, and send in spoons and things to work with in your apron pocket--"

"Mercy sakes!"

"--and load up the cabin with rats and snakes and so on, for company forJim; and then you kept Tom here so long with the butter in his hat thatyou come near spiling the whole business, because the men come before wewas out of the cabin, and we had to rush, and they heard us and let driveat us, and I got my share, and we dodged out of the path and let them goby, and when the dogs come they warn't interested in us, but went for themost noise, and we got our canoe, and made for the raft, and was allsafe, and Jim was a free man, and we done it all by ourselves, and WASN'Tit bully, Aunty!"

"Well, I never heard the likes of it in all my born days! So it was YOU, you little rapscallions, that's been making all this trouble, and turnedeverybody's wits clean inside out and scared us all most to death. I'veas good a notion as ever I had in my life to take it out o' you this veryminute. To think, here I've been, night after night, a--YOU just getwell once, you young scamp, and I lay I'll tan the Old Harry out o' botho' ye!"

But Tom, he WAS so proud and joyful, he just COULDN'T hold in, and histongue just WENT it--she a-chipping in, and spitting fire all along, andboth of them going it at once, like a cat convention; and she says:

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

"Meddling with WHO?" Tom says, dropping his smile and looking surprised. 

"With WHO? Why, the runaway nigger, of course. Who'd you reckon?"

Tom looks at me very grave, and says:

"Tom, didn't you just tell me he was all right? Hasn't he got away?"

"HIM?" says Aunt Sally; "the runaway nigger? 'Deed he hasn't. They'vegot him back, safe and sound, and he's in that cabin again, on bread andwater, 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 andshutting like gills, and sings out to me:

"They hain't no RIGHT to shut him up! SHOVE!--and don't you lose aminute. Turn him loose! he ain't no slave; he's as free as any creturthat walks this earth!"

"What DOES the child mean?"

"I mean every word I SAY, Aunt Sally, and if somebody don't go, I'LL go. I've knowed him all his life, and so has Tom, there. Old Miss Watsondied two months ago, and she was ashamed she ever was going to sell himdown the river, and SAID so; and she set him free in her will. "

"Then what on earth did YOU want to set him free for, seeing he wasalready free?"

"Well, that IS a question, I must say; and just like women! Why, Iwanted the ADVENTURE of it; and I'd a waded neck-deep in blood to--goodness alive, AUNT POLLY!"

If she warn't standing right there, just inside the door, looking assweet and contented as an angel half full of pie, I wish I may never!

Aunt Sally jumped for her, and most hugged the head off of her, and criedover her, and I found a good enough place for me under the bed, for itwas getting pretty sultry for us, seemed to me. And I peeped out, and ina little while Tom's Aunt Polly shook herself loose and stood therelooking across at Tom over her spectacles--kind of grinding him into theearth, you know. And then she says:

"Yes, you BETTER turn y'r head away--I would if I was you, Tom. "

"Oh, deary me!" says Aunt Sally; "IS he changed so? Why, that ain't TOM, it's Sid; Tom's--Tom's--why, where is Tom? He was here a minute ago. "

"You mean where's Huck FINN--that's what you mean! I reckon I hain'traised such a scamp as my Tom all these years not to know him when I SEEhim. That WOULD be a pretty howdy-do. Come out from under that bed, Huck Finn. "

So I done it. But not feeling brash. 

Aunt Sally she was one of the mixed-upest-looking persons I ever see--except one, and that was Uncle Silas, when he come in and they told itall to him. It kind of made him drunk, as you may say, and he didn'tknow nothing at all the rest of the day, and preached a prayer-meetingsermon that night that gave him a rattling ruputation, because the oldestman in the world couldn't a understood it. So Tom's Aunt Polly, she toldall about who I was, and what; and I had to up and tell how I was in sucha tight place that when Mrs. Phelps took me for Tom Sawyer--she chippedin 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 Ihad to stand it--there warn't no other way, and I knowed he wouldn'tmind, because it would be nuts for him, being a mystery, and he'd make anadventure out of it, and be perfectly satisfied. And so it turned out, and he let on to be Sid, and made things as soft as he could for me. 

And his Aunt Polly she said Tom was right about old Miss Watson settingJim free in her will; and so, sure enough, Tom Sawyer had gone and tookall that trouble and bother to set a free nigger free! and I couldn'tever understand before, until that minute and that talk, how he COULDhelp a body set a nigger free with his bringing-up. 

Well, Aunt Polly she said that when Aunt Sally wrote to her that Tom andSID had come all right and safe, she says to herself:

"Look at that, now! I might have expected it, letting him go off thatway without anybody to watch him. So now I got to go and trapse all theway down the river, eleven hundred mile, and find out what that creetur'sup to THIS time, as long as I couldn't seem to get any answer out of youabout it. "

"Why, I never heard nothing from you, " says Aunt Sally. 

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

"Well, I never got 'em, Sis. "

Aunt Polly she turns around slow and severe, and says:

"You, Tom!"

"Well--WHAT?" he says, kind of pettish. 

"Don t you what ME, you impudent thing--hand out them letters. "

"What letters?"

"THEM letters. I be bound, if I have to take a-holt of you I'll--"

"They're in the trunk. There, now. And they're just the same as theywas when I got them out of the office. I hain't looked into them, Ihain't touched them. But I knowed they'd make trouble, and I thought ifyou warn't in no hurry, I'd--"

"Well, you DO need skinning, there ain't no mistake about it. And Iwrote another one to tell you I was coming; and I s'pose he--"

"No, it come yesterday; I hain't read it yet, but IT'S all right, I'vegot that one. "

I wanted to offer to bet two dollars she hadn't, but I reckoned maybe itwas just as safe to not to. So I never said nothing. 

CHAPTER THE LAST

THE first time I catched Tom private I asked him what was his idea, timeof the evasion?--what it was he'd planned to do if the evasion worked allright 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 gotJim out all safe, was for us to run him down the river on the raft, andhave adventures plumb to the mouth of the river, and then tell him abouthis being free, and take him back up home on a steamboat, in style, andpay him for his lost time, and write word ahead and get out all theniggers around, and have them waltz him into town with a torchlightprocession and a brass-band, and then he would be a hero, and so wouldwe. But I reckoned it was about as well the way it was. 

We had Jim out of the chains in no time, and when Aunt Polly and UncleSilas 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 himall he wanted to eat, and a good time, and nothing to do. And we had himup to the sick-room, and had a high talk; and Tom give Jim forty dollarsfor being prisoner for us so patient, and doing it up so good, and Jimwas pleased most to death, and busted out, and says:

"DAH, now, Huck, what I tell you?--what I tell you up dah on Jacksonislan'? I TOLE you I got a hairy breas', en what's de sign un it; en ITOLE you I ben rich wunst, en gwineter to be rich AGIN; en it's cometrue; en heah she is! DAH, now! doan' talk to ME--signs is SIGNS, mine Itell you; en I knowed jis' 's well 'at I 'uz gwineter be rich agin as I'sa-stannin' heah dis minute!"

And then Tom he talked along and talked along, and says, le's all threeslide out of here one of these nights and get an outfit, and go forhowling adventures amongst the Injuns, over in the Territory, for acouple of weeks or two; and I says, all right, that suits me, but I ain'tgot no money for to buy the outfit, and I reckon I couldn't get none fromhome, because it's likely pap's been back before now, and got it all awayfrom Judge Thatcher and drunk it up. 

"No, he hain't, " Tom says; "it's all there yet--six thousand dollars andmore; and your pap hain't ever been back since. Hadn't when I come away, anyhow. "

Jim says, kind of solemn:

"He ain't a-comin' back no mo', Huck. "

I says:

"Why, Jim?"

"Nemmine why, Huck--but he ain't comin' back no mo. "

But I kept at him; so at last he says:

"Doan' you 'member de house dat was float'n down de river, en dey wuz aman in dah, kivered up, en I went in en unkivered him and didn' let youcome in? Well, den, you kin git yo' money when you wants it, kase datwuz him. "

Tom's most well now, and got his bullet around his neck on a watch-guardfor a watch, and is always seeing what time it is, and so there ain'tnothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd aknowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't a tackled it, andain't a-going to no more. But I reckon I got to light out for theTerritory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt meand sivilize me, and I can't stand it. I been there before.