MINERVA

s’ bet he couldn’ fine no way to git aroun’ it _dis_ time. But it’s awluz jis’ so; people dat’s _sot_, stays sot; dey won’t look into noth’n’en fine it out f’r deyselves, en when _you_ fine it out en tell um ’bout it, dey doan’ b’lieve you.” Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn’t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says: “I wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, _I_ wouldn’t give him up, I’d hang him.” And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says: “Don’t ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on nights, it’s us; we’re going to set you free.” Jim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it; then the nigger come back, and we said we’d come again some time if the nigger wanted us to; and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks around then. CHAPTER XXXV. It would be most an hour yet till breakfast, so we left and struck down into the woods; because Tom said we got to have _some_ light to see how to dig by, and a lantern makes too much, and might get us into trouble; what we must have was a lot of them rotten chunks that’s called fox-fire, and just makes a soft kind of a glow when you lay them in a dark place. We fetched an armful and hid it in the weeds, and set down to rest, and Tom says, kind of dissatisfied: “Blame it, this whole thing is just as easy and awkward as it can be. And so it makes it so rotten difficult to get up a difficult plan. There ain’t no watchman to be drugged—now there _ought_ to be a watchman. There ain’t even a dog to give a sleeping-mixture to. And there’s Jim chained by one leg, with a ten-foot chain, to the leg of his bed: why, all you got to do is to lift up the bedstead and slip off the chain. And Uncle Silas he trusts everybody; sends the key to the punkin-headed nigger, and don’t send nobody to watch the nigger. Jim could a got out of that window-hole before this, only there wouldn’t be no use trying to travel with a ten-foot chain on his leg. Why, drat it, Huck, it’s the stupidest arrangement I ever see. You got to invent _all_ the difficulties. Well, we can’t help it; we got to do the best we can with the materials we’ve got. Anyhow, there’s one thing—there’s more honor in getting him out through a lot of difficulties and dangers, where there warn’t one of them furnished to you by the people who it was their duty to furnish them, and you had to contrive them all out of your own head. Now look at just that one thing of the lantern. When you come down to the cold facts, we simply got to _let on_ that a lantern’s resky. Why, we could work with a torchlight procession if we wanted to, _I_ believe. Now, whilst I think of it, we got to hunt up something to make a saw out of the first chance we get.” “What do we want of a saw?” “What do we _want_ of it? Hain’t we got to saw the leg of Jim’s bed off, so as to get the chain loose?” “Why, you just said a body could lift up the bedstead and slip the chain off.” “Well, if that ain’t just like you, Huck Finn. You _can_ get up the infant-schooliest ways of going at a thing. Why, hain’t you ever read any books at all?—Baron Trenck, nor Casanova,