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

by Mark Twain

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Next day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow towhead outin the middle, where there was a village on each side of the river,and the duke and the king begun to lay out a plan for working themtowns. Jim he spoke to the duke, and said he hoped it wouldn't takebut a few hours, because it got mighty heavy and tiresome to him whenhe had to lay all day in the wigwam tied with the rope. You see, whenwe left him all alone we had to tie him, because if anybody happenedon to him all by himself and not tied it wouldn't look much like hewas a runaway nigger, you know. So the duke said it _was_ kind of hardto have to lay roped all day, and he'd cipher out some way to getaround it.

  He was uncommon bright, the duke was, and he soon struck it. Hedressed Jim up in King Lear's outfit--it was a long curtain-calicogown, and a white horse-hair wig and whiskers; and then he took histheater paint and painted Jim's face and hands and ears and neck allover a dead, dull solid blue, like a man that's been drownded ninedays. Blamed if he warn't the horriblest-looking outrage I ever see.Then the duke took and wrote out a sign on a shingle so:

  _Sick Arab--but harmless when not out of his head._

  And he nailed that shingle to a lath, and stood the lath up four orfive foot in front of the wigwam. Jim was satisfied. He said it was asight better than lying tied a couple of years every day, andtrembling all over every time there was a sound. The duke told him tomake himself free and easy, and if anybody ever come meddling around,he must hop out of the wigwam, and carry on a little, and fetch a howlor two like a wild beast, and he reckoned they would light out andleave him alone. Which was sound enough judgment; but you take theaverage man, and he wouldn't wait for him to howl. Why, he didn't onlylook like he was dead, he looked considerable more than that.

  These rapscallions wanted to try the Nonesuch again, because there wasso much money in it, but they judged it wouldn't be safe, becausemaybe the news might 'a' worked along down by this time. They couldn'thit no project that suited exactly; so at last the duke said hereckoned he'd lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if hecouldn't put up something on the Arkansaw village; and the king heallowed he would drop over to t'other village without any plan, butjust trust in Providence to lead him the profitable way--meaning thedevil, I reckon. We had all bought store clothes where we stoppedlast; and now the king put his'n on, and he told me to put mine on. Idone it, of course. The king's duds was all black, and he did lookreal swell and starchy. I never knowed how clothes could change a bodybefore. Why, before, he looked like the orneriest old rip that everwas; but now, when he'd take off his new white beaver and make a bowand do a smile, he looked that grand and good and pious that you'd sayhe had walked right out of the ark, and maybe was old Leviticushimself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I got my paddle ready. Therewas a big steamboat laying at the shore away up under the point, aboutthree mile above the town--been there a couple of hours, taking onfreight. Says the king:

  "Seein' how I'm dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St.Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat,Huckleberry; we'll come down to the village on her."

  I didn't have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. Ifetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then wentscooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we cometo a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a logswabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather;and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.

  "Run her nose inshore," says the king. I done it. "Wher' you boundfor, young man?"

  "For the steamboat; going to Orleans."

  "Git aboard," says the king. "Hold on a minute, my servant 'llhe'p you with them bags. Jump out and he'p the gentleman,Adolphus"--meaning me, I see.

  I done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap wasmighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage suchweather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told himhe'd come down the river and landed at the other village this morning,and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm upthere. The young fellow says:

  "When I first see you I says to myself, 'It's Mr. Wilks, sure, and hecome mighty near getting here in time.' But then I says again, 'No, Ireckon it ain't him, or else he wouldn't be paddling up the river.'You _ain't_ him, are you?"

  "No, my name's Blodgett--Elexander Blodgett--_Reverend_ ElexanderBlodgett, I s'pose I must say, as I'm one o' the Lord's poor servants.But still I'm jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arrivingin time, all the same, if he's missed anything by it--which I hope hehasn't."

  "Well, he don't miss any property by it, because he'll get that allright; but he's missed seeing his brother Peter die--which he mayn'tmind, nobody can tell as to that--but his brother would 'a' giveanything in this world to see _him_ before he died; never talked aboutnothing else all these three weeks; hadn't seen him since they wasboys together--and hadn't ever seen his brother William at all--that'sthe deef and dumb one--William ain't more than thirty or thirty-five.Peter and George were the only ones that come out here; George was themarried brother; him and his wife both died last year. Harvey andWilliam's the only ones that's left now; and, as I was saying, theyhaven't got here in time."

  "Did anybody send 'em word?"

  "Oh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Petersaid then that he sorter felt like he warn't going to get well thistime. You see, he was pretty old, and George's g'yirls was too youngto be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; andso he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn'tseem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to seeHarvey--and William, too, for that matter--because he was one of themkind that can't bear to make a will. He left a letter behind forHarvey, and said he'd told in it where his money was hid, and how hewanted the rest of the property divided up so George's g'yirls wouldbe all right--for George didn't leave nothing. And that letter was allthey could get him to put a pen to."

  "Why do you reckon Harvey don't come? Wher' does he live?"

  "Oh, he lives in England--Sheffield--preaches there--hasn't ever beenin this country. He hasn't had any too much time--and besides hemightn't 'a' got the letter at all, you know."

  "Too bad, too bad he couldn't 'a' lived to see his brothers, poorsoul. You going to Orleans, you say?"

  "Yes, but that ain't only a part of it. I'm going in a ship, nextWednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives."

  "It's a pretty long journey. But it'll be lovely; I wisht I wasa-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?"

  "Mary Jane's nineteen, Susan's fifteen, and Joanna's aboutfourteen--that's the one that gives herself to good works and has ahare-lip."

  "Poor things! to be left alone in the cold world so."

  "Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain'tgoing to let them come to no harm. There's Hobson, the Babtis'preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford,and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and thewidow Bartley, and--well, there's a lot of them; but these are theones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes,when he wrote home; so Harvey 'll know where to look for friends whenhe gets here."

  Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptiedthat young fellow. Blamed if he didn't inquire about everybody andeverything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and aboutPeter's business--which was a tanner; and about George's--which was acarpenter; and about Harvey's--which was a dissentering minister; andso on, and so on. Then he says:

  "What did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?"

  "Because she's a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn't stopthere. When they're deep they won't stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boatwill, but this is a St. Louis one."

  "Was Peter Wilks well off?"

  "Oh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it's reckonedhe left three or four thousand in cash hid up so
m'ers."

  "When did you say he died?"

  "I didn't say, but it was last night."

  "Funeral to-morrow, likely?"

  "Yes, 'bout the middle of the day."

  "Well, it's all terrible sad; but we've all got to go, one time oranother. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we're allright."

  "Yes, sir, it's the best way. Ma used to always say that."

  When we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soonshe got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lostmy ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle upanother mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:

  "Now hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the newcarpet-bags. And if he's gone over to t'other side, go over there andgit him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now."

  I see what _he_ was up to; but I never said nothing, of course. When Igot back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on alog, and the king told him everything, just like the young fellow hadsaid it--every last word of it. And all the time he was a-doing it hetried to talk like an Englishman; and he done it pretty well, too, fora slouch. I can't imitate him, and so I ain't a-going to try to; buthe really done it pretty good. Then he says:

  "How are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?"

  The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef anddumb person on the histrionic boards. So then they waited for asteamboat.

  About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along,but they didn't come from high enough up the river; but at last therewas a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we wentaboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we onlywanted to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us acussing, and said they wouldn't land us. But the king was ca'm. Hesays:

  "If gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took onand put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry 'em, can't it?"

  So they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got tothe village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked downwhen they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says:

  "Kin any of you gentlemen tell me wher' Mr. Peter Wilks lives?" theygive a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as tosay, "What 'd I tell you?" Then one of them says, kind of soft andgentle:

  "I'm sorry, sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he _did_live yesterday evening."

  Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went all to smash, and fell upagainst the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down hisback, and says:

  "Alas, alas, our poor brother--gone, and we never got to see him; oh,it's too, too hard!"

  Then he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs tothe duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn't drop a carpet-bag andbust out a-crying. If they warn't the beatenest lot, them two frauds,that ever I struck.

  Well, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said allsorts of kind things to them, and carried their carpet-bags up thehill for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the kingall about his brother's last moments, and the king he told it all overagain on his hands to the duke, and both of them took on about thatdead tanner like they'd lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever Istruck anything like it, I'm a nigger. It was enough to make a bodyashamed of the human race.