MINERVA

Our hole was pretty big, but it warn’t big enough to get the grindstone through; but Jim he took the pick and soon made it big enough. Then Tom marked 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 the lean-to for a hammer, and told him to work till the rest of his candle quit on him, and then he could go to bed, and hide the grindstone under his straw tick and sleep on it. Then we helped him fix his chain back on the bed-leg, and was ready for bed ourselves. But Tom thought of something, 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’ ’s soon 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; it stands to reason. Yes, it’s a prime good idea. Where could you keep it?” “Keep what, Mars Tom?” “Why, a rattlesnake.” “De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom! Why, if dey was a rattlesnake to come in heah I’d take en bust right out thoo dat log wall, I would, wid my head.” “Why, Jim, you wouldn’t be afraid of it after a little. You could tame it.” “_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 book will tell you that. You try—that’s all I ask; just try for two or three days. Why, you can get him so, in a little while, that he’ll love you; and sleep with you; and won’t stay away from you a minute; and will let you wrap 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 shove his head in my mouf—fer a favor, hain’t it? I lay he’d wait a pow’ful long time ’fo’ I _ast_ him. En mo’ en dat, I doan’ _want_ him to sleep wid me.” “Jim, don’t act so foolish. A prisoner’s _got_ to have some kind of a dumb pet, and if a rattlesnake hain’t ever been tried, why, there’s more glory to be gained in your being the first to ever try it than any other way you could ever think of to save your life.” “Why, Mars Tom, I doan’ _want_ no sich glory. Snake take ’n bite Jim’s chin 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 up if 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, but ef you en Huck fetches a rattlesnake in heah for me to tame, I’s gwyne to _leave_, dat’s _shore_.” “Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you’re so bull-headed about it. We can get you some garter-snakes, and you can tie some buttons on their tails, and let on they’re rattlesnakes, and I reckon that’ll have to do.” “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 trouble to 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’s tryin’ to sleep, I ever see. No, sah, gimme g’yarter-s