The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer's Comrade), Page 3

  HUCKLEBERRY FINN

  CHAPTER I

  You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of_The Adventures of Tom Sawyer;_ but that ain't no matter. That bookwas made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There wasthings which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That isnothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without itwas Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly--Tom's AuntPolly, she is--and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about inthat book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as Isaid before.

  Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the moneythat the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got sixthousand dollars apiece--all gold. It was an awful sight of money whenit was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out atinterest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the yearround--more than a body could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglasshe took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it wasrough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regularand decent the widow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn't standit no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogsheadagain, and was free and satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up andsaid he was going to start a band of robbers, and I might join if Iwould 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 shecalled me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm byit. She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothingbut sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the oldthing commenced again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you hadto come to time. When you got to the table you couldn't go right toeating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head andgrumble a little over the victuals, though there warn't reallyanything the matter with them--that is, nothing only everything wascooked by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different; thingsget mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps around, and the things gobetter.

  After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and theBulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by andby she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time;so then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stockin dead people.

  Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But shewouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't clean, and I musttry to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. Theyget down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it. Here shewas a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use toanybody, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me fordoing a thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; ofcourse that was all right, because she done it herself.

  Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on,had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with aspelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and thenthe widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it much longer. Then foran 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 uplike that, Huckleberry--set up straight"; and pretty soon she wouldsay, "Don't gap and stretch like that, Huckleberry--why don't you tryto behave?" Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said Iwished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All Iwanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn'tparticular. She said it was wicked to say what I said; said shewouldn't say it for the whole world; she was going to live so as to goto the good place. Well, I couldn't see no advantage in going whereshe was going, so I made up my mind I wouldn't try for it. But I neversaid so, because it would only make trouble, and wouldn't do no good.

  Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about thegood place. She said all a body would have to do there was to goaround all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So Ididn't think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if shereckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerablesight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to betogether.

  Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome.By and by they fetched the niggers in and had prayers, and theneverybody 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 andtried to think of something cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt solonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and theleaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, awayoff, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and adog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind wastrying to whisper something to me, and I couldn't make out what itwas, and so it made the cold shivers run over me. Then away out in thewoods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants totell about something that's on its mind and can't make itselfunderstood, and so can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go aboutthat way every night grieving. I got so downhearted and scared I didwish I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up myshoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before Icould budge it was all shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell methat that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so Iwas scared and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turnedaround in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; andthen I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witchesaway. But I hadn't no confidence. You do that when you've lost ahorseshoe 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 badluck when you'd killed a spider.

  I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke;for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn'tknow. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the towngo boom--boom--boom--twelve licks; and all still again--stiller thanever. Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst thetrees--something was a-stirring. I set still and listened. Directly Icould 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 thelight and scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slippeddown to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough,there was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.