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