Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer's
comrade). Scene: The Mississippi Valley. Time: forty to fifty years ago |
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II. |
III. |
IV. |
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VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
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XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
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XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
Chapter XXVI
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XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
Chapter XXVI
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer's
comrade). | ||
Chapter XXVI
Well when they was all gone, the king he asks
Mary
Jane how they was off for spare
rooms, and she said she had one
spare
room, which would do for Uncle
William, and she'd give her
own room
to Uncle Harvey, which was a little
bigger, and she would
turn into the
room with her sisters and sleep on a
cot; and up
garret was a little cubby,
with a pallet in it. The king said the
cubby would do for his valley—meaning
me.
the cubby.
So Mary Jane took us up, and
she showed them their rooms,
which was
plain but nice. She said
she'd have her frocks and a lot of
other
traps took out of her room if
they was in Uncle Harvey's way, but
he said they warn't. The frocks was hung along the wall, and before them
was
a curtain made out of calico that hung down to the floor. There was
an old hair
trunk in one corner, and a guitar box in another, and all
sorts of little knickknacks
and
jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room with. The king said it
was all the more homely and more pleasanter for these fixings, and so don't
disturb
them. The duke's room was
pretty small, but plenty good enough, and so
was my cubby.
That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there,
niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of the table, with
Susan along side of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, and how mean the
preserves was, and how ornery and
tough the fried chickens was—and
all that kind of rot, the way
women always do for to force out
compliments; and the people all
knowed everything was tip-top,
and said so—said "How do you
get biscuits to brown so nice?"
and "Where, for the land's sake
did you get these amaz'n pickles?"
and all that kind of humbug
talky-talk, just the way
people always does at a supper,
you know. [ILLUSTRATION]
supper with the hare-lip.
And when it was all done, me
and the hare-lip had supper in the
kitchen off of the leavings, whilst
the others was helping the
niggers
clean up the things. The hare-lip
she got to pumping me
about
England, and blest if I didn't think the ice was getting mighty
thin, sometimes.
She says:
"Did you ever see the king?"
"Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I have—he goes to our church."
I
knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on. So when I says he
goes to
our church, she says:
"What—regular?"
"Yes—regular. His pew's right over opposite ourn—on
'tother side the
pulpit."
"I thought he lived in London?"
"Well, he does. Where would he live?"
"But I thought you lived in Sheffield?"
I see I was up a stump. I had to let on to get choked with a chicken
bone,
so as to get time to think how to get down again. Then I
says:
"I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield. That's
only
in the summer-time, when he comes there to take the sea
baths."
"Why, how you talk—Sheffield ain't on the sea."
"Well, who said it was?"
"Why, you did."
"I didn't, nuther."
"You did!"
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I never said nothing of the kind."
"Well, what did you say, then?"
"Said he come to take the sea baths—that's what I said."
"Well, then! how's he going to take the sea baths if it ain't on the sea?"
"Looky here," I says; "did you ever see any Congress water?"
"Yes."
"Well, did you have to go to Congress to get it?"
"Why, no."
"Well, neither does William Fourth have to go to the sea to get a sea bath."
"How does he get it, then?"
"Gets it the way people down here gets Congress-water—in barrels.
There in
the palace at Sheffield they've got furnaces, and he wants his
water hot. They
can't bile that amount of water away off there at the
sea. They haven't got no
conveniences for it."
"Oh, I see, now. You might a said that in the first place and saved
time."
When she said that, I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was comfortable
and glad. Next, she
says:
"Do you go to church, too?"
"Yes—regular."
"Where do you set?"
"Why, in our pew."
"Whose pew?"
"Why, ourn—your Uncle Harvey's."
"His'n? What does he want with a pew?"
"Wants it to set in. What did you reckon he wanted with it?"
"Why, I thought he'd be in the pulpit."
Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I
played another chicken bone and got another think. Then I says:
"Blame it, do you suppose there ain't but one preacher to a church?"
"Why, what do they want with more?"
"What!—to preach before a king? I never see such a girl as you.
They
don't have no less than seventeen."
"Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn't set out such a string as that,
not
if I never got to glory. It must take 'em a
week."
"Shucks, they don't all of 'em preach the same day—only one of 'em."
"Well, then, what does the rest of 'em do?"
"Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate—and one thing or
another.
But mainly they don't do nothing."
"Well, then, what are they for?"
"Why, they're for style. Don't you know nothing?"
"Well, I don't want to know no such foolishness as
that. How is servants
treated in England? Do they treat 'em better 'n
we treat our niggers?"
"No! A servant ain't nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs."
"Don't they give 'em holidays, the way we do, Christmas and New Year's
week, and Fourth of July?"
"Oh, just listen! A body could tell you hain't ever
been to England,
by that. Why, Hare-l—why, Joanna, they
never see a holiday from year's
end to year's end; never go to the
circus, nor theatre, nor nigger shows, nor
nowheres."
"Nor church?"
"Nor church."
"But you always went to church."
Well, I was gone up again. I forgot I was the old man's servant. But
next
minute I whirled in on a kind
of an explanation how a
valley
was different from a common
servant, and had to go to
church whether he wanted
to or not, and set
with the
family, on account of it's
being the law. But I
didn't
do it pretty good, and when I
got done I see she
warn't
satisfied. She says:
"Honest injun, now,
hain't you been telling me a
lot of lies?"
"honest injun."
"Honest injun," says I.
"None of it at all?"
"None of it at all. Not a
lie in it," says I.
"Lay your hand on this
book and say it."
I see it warn't nothing but
a dictionary, so I laid my hand on it and
said it. So then she looked a little
better satisfied, and says:
"Well, then, I'll believe some of it; but I hope to gracious if I'll believe
the
rest."
"What is it you won't believe, Joe?" says Mary Jane, stepping in with
Susan behind her. "It ain't right nor kind for you to talk so to him, and
him
a stranger and so far from his people. How would you like to be
treated so?"
"That's always your way, Maim—always sailing in to help somebody
before
they're hurt. I hain't done nothing to him. He's told some
stretchers, I
reckon; and I said I wouldn't swallow it all; and that's
every bit and grain I
did say. I reckon he can stand a little thing like
that, can't he?"
"I don't care whether 'twas little or whether 'twas big, he's here in our
house
and a stranger, and it wasn't good of you to say it. If you was
in his place, it
would make you feel ashamed; and so you oughtn't to
say a thing to another
person that will make them feel ashamed."
"Why, Maim, he said——"
"It don't make no difference what he said—that ain't the thing. The thing
is for you to
treat him kind, and not be saying things to make him
remember he
ain't in his own country and amongst his own folks."
I says to myself, this is a girl that I'm letting that
old reptle rob her of her
money!
Then Susan she waltzed in; and if you'll believe me,
she did give Hare-lip
hark from the tomb!
Says I to myself, And this is another one that I'm
letting him rob her of her
money!
Then Mary Jane she took another inning, and went in sweet and lovely
again—
which was her way—but when she got done
there warn't hardly anything left o'
poor Hare-lip. So she
hollered.
"All right, then," says the other girls, "you just ask his pardon."
She done it, too. And she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful it
was
good to hear; and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so she
could do it
again.
I says to myself, this is another one that I'm letting
him rob her of her
money. And when she got through, they all jest laid
theirselves out to make me
feel at home and know I was amongst friends.
I felt so ornery and low down
and mean, that I says to myself, My
mind's made up; I'll hive that money for
them or bust.
So then I lit out—for bed, I said, meaning some time or another.
When I
got by myself, I went to thinking the thing over. I says to
myself, shall I go
might tell who told him; then the king and the duke would make it warm for
me. Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane? No—I dasn't do it. Her face
would give them a hint, sure; they've got the money, and they'd slide right out
and get away with it. If she was to fetch in help, I'd get mixed up in the
business, before it was done with, I judge. No, there ain't no good way but one.
I got to steal that money, somehow; and I got to steal it some way that
they
won't suspicion that I done it. They've got a good thing, here;
and they ain't
agoing to leave till they've played this family and this
town for all they're worth,
so I'll find a chance time enough. I'll
steal it, and hide it; and by-and-by, when
I'm away down the river,
I'll write a letter and tell Mary Jane where it's hid.
But I better
hive it to-night, if I can, because the doctor maybe hasn't let up as
much as he lets on he has; he might scare them out of here, yet.
the duke looks under the bed.
So, thinks I, I'll go and search them rooms. Up stairs the hall was dark, but
recollected it wouldn't be much like the king to let anybody else take care of
that money but his own self; so then I went to his room and begun to paw
around there. But I see I couldn't do nothing without a candle, and I dasn't
light one, of course. So I judged I'd got to do the other thing—lay for them,
and eavesdrop. About that time, I hears their footsteps coming, and was going
to skip under the bed; I reached for it, but it wasn't where I thought it would
be; but I touched the curtain that hid Mary Jane's frocks, so I jumped in
behind that and snuggled in amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly
still.
They come in and shut the door; and the first thing the duke done was to
get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn't found the bed
when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it's kind of natural to hide under
the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down, then, and
the
king says:
"Well, what is it? and cut it middlin' short, because it's better for us to
be
down there a whoopin'-up the mournin', than up here givin' 'em a
chance to talk
us over."
"Well, this is it, Capet. I ain't easy; I ain't comfortable. That doctor
lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I've got a notion, and I
think
it's a sound one."
"What is it, duke?"
"That we better glide out of this, before three in the morning, and clip
it
down the river with what we've got. Specially, seeing we got it so
easy—given
back to us, flung at
our heads, as you may say, when of course we allowed to have
to steal
it back. I'm for knocking off and lighting out."
That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago, it would a been
a
little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed. The
king rips
out and says:
"What! And not sell out the rest o' the property? March off like a passel
o' fools and leave eight or nine
thous'n' dollars' worth o' property layin' around
jest sufferin' to be
scooped in?—and all good salable stuff, too."
The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn't
want
to go no deeper—didn't want to rob a lot of orphans of
everything they had.
"Why, how you talk!" says the king. "We shan't rob 'em of nothing at
all
but jest this money. The people that buys the
property is the suff'rers;
because as soon's it's found out 'at we
didn't own it—which won't be long after
we've
slid—the sale won't be valid, and it'll all go back to the
estate. These-yer
orphans 'll git their house back agin, and that's
enough for them; they're young
and spry, and k'n
easy earn a livin'. They ain't agoing to suffer. Why,
jest
think—there's thous'n's and thous'n's that ain't nigh
so well off. Bless you, they
ain't got noth'n to
complain of."
Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he give in, and said all
right,
but said he believed it was blame foolishness to stay, and that
doctor hanging
over them. But the king says:
"Cuss the doctor! What do we k'yer for him? Hain't we
got all the fools
in town on our side? and ain't that a big enough
majority in any town?"
So they got ready to go down stairs again. The duke says:
"I don't think we put that money in a good place."
That cheered me up. I'd begun to think I warn't going to get a hint of
no
kind to help me. The king says:
"Why?"
"Because Mary Jane 'll be in mourning from this out; and first you know
the nigger that does up the rooms will get an order to box these duds up
and
put 'em away; and do you reckon a nigger can run across money and
not borrow
some of it?"
"Your head's level, agin, duke," says the king; and he come a fumbling
under
the curtain two or three foot from where I was. I stuck tight to
the wall, and
kept mighty still, though quivery; and I wondered what
them fellows would say
to me if they catched me; and I tried to think
what I'd better do if they did
catch me. But the king he got the bag
before I could think more than about
a half a thought, and he never
suspicioned I was around. They took and
shoved the bag through a rip in
the straw tick that was under the feather bed,
and crammed it in a foot
or two amongst the straw and said it was all right, now,
tick only about twice a year,
and so it warn't in no danger
of getting stole, now.
But I knowed better. I
had it out of there before
they was half-way
down
stairs. I groped along up to
my cubby, and hid it there
till I could get a chance to
do better. I judged I better
hide it
outside of the house
somewheres, because if they
missed it they
would give
the house a good ransacking.
I knowed that very
well.
Then I turned in, with my
clothes all on; but I
couldn't
a gone to sleep, if I'd a
wanted to, I was in such a
sweat to get through with the business. By-and-by I heard the king and
the
duke come up; so I rolled off of my pallet and laid with my chin at
the top of
my ladder and waited to see if anything was going to happen.
But nothing
did.
huck takes the money.
So I held on till all the late sounds had quit and the early ones hadn't
begun,
yet; and then I slipped down the ladder.
Chapter XXVI
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer's
comrade). | ||