by Mark Twain
CHAPTER XXXVI.
AS soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down thelightning-rod, and shut ourselves up in the lean-to, and got out ourpile of fox-fire, and went to work. ?We cleared everything out of theway, about four or five foot along the middle of the bottom log. ?Tomsaid he was right behind Jim's bed now, and we'd dig in under it, andwhen we got through there couldn't nobody in the cabin ever know therewas any hole there, because Jim's counter-pin hung down most to theground, and you'd have to raise it up and look under to see the hole.?So we dug and dug with the case-knives till most midnight; and thenwe was dog-tired, and our hands was blistered, and yet you couldn't seewe'd done anything hardly. ?At last I says:
"This ain't no thirty-seven year job; this is a thirty-eight year job,Tom Sawyer."
He never said nothing. ?But he sighed, and pretty soon he stoppeddigging, and then for a good little while I knowed that he was thinking.Then he says:
"It ain't no use, Huck, it ain't a-going to work. ?If we was prisonersit would, because then we'd have as many years as we wanted, and nohurry; and we wouldn't get but a few minutes to dig, every day, whilethey was changing watches, and so our hands wouldn't get blistered, andwe could keep it up right along, year in and year out, and do it right,and the way it ought to be done. ?But _we_ can't fool along; we got torush; we ain't got no time to spare. ?If we was to put in anothernight this way we'd have to knock off for a week to let our hands getwell--couldn't touch a case-knife with them sooner."
"Well, then, what we going to do, Tom?"
"I'll tell you. ?It ain't right, and it ain't moral, and I wouldn't likeit to get out; but there ain't only just the one way: ?we got to dig himout with the picks, and _let on_ it's case-knives."
"_Now_ you're _talking_!" ?I says; "your head gets leveler and levelerall the time, Tom Sawyer," I says. ?"Picks is the thing, moral or nomoral; and as for me, I don't care shucks for the morality of it, nohow.?When I start in to steal a nigger, or a watermelon, or a Sunday-schoolbook, I ain't no ways particular how it's done so it's done. ?What Iwant is my nigger; or what I want is my watermelon; or what I want is mySunday-school book; and if a pick's the handiest thing, that's the thingI'm a-going to dig that nigger or that watermelon or that Sunday-schoolbook out with; and I don't give a dead rat what the authorities thinksabout it nuther."
"Well," he says, "there's excuse for picks and letting-on in a case likethis; if it warn't so, I wouldn't approve of it, nor I wouldn't stand byand see the rules broke--because right is right, and wrong is wrong,and a body ain't got no business doing wrong when he ain't ignorant andknows better. ?It might answer for _you_ to dig Jim out with a pick,_without_ any letting on, because you don't know no better; but itwouldn't for me, because I do know better. ?Gimme a case-knife."
He had his own by him, but I handed him mine. ?He flung it down, andsays:
"Gimme a _case-knife_."
I didn't know just what to do--but then I thought. ?I scratched aroundamongst the old tools, and got a pickaxe and give it to him, and he tookit and went to work, and never said a word.
He was always just that particular. ?Full of principle.
So then I got a shovel, and then we picked and shoveled, turn about,and made the fur fly. ?We stuck to it about a half an hour, which was aslong as we could stand up; but we had a good deal of a hole to show forit. When I got up stairs I looked out at the window and see Tom doinghis level best with the lightning-rod, but he couldn't come it, hishands was so sore. ?At last he says:
"It ain't no use, it can't be done. ?What you reckon I better do? ?Can'tyou think of no way?"
"Yes," I says, "but I reckon it ain't regular. ?Come up the stairs, andlet on it's a lightning-rod."
So he done it.
Next day Tom stole a pewter spoon and a brass candlestick in the house,for to make some pens for Jim out of, and six tallow candles; and Ihung around the nigger cabins and laid for a chance, and stole three tinplates. ?Tom says it wasn't enough; but I said nobody wouldn't ever seethe plates that Jim throwed out, because they'd fall in the dog-fenneland jimpson weeds under the window-hole--then we could tote them back andhe could use them over again. ?So Tom was satisfied. ?Then he says:
"Now, the thing to study out is, how to get the things to Jim."
"Take them in through the hole," I says, "when we get it done."
He only just looked scornful, and said something about nobody ever heardof such an idiotic idea, and then he went to studying. ?By and by hesaid he had ciphered out two or three ways, but there warn't no need todecide on any of them yet. ?Said we'd got to post Jim first.
That night we went down the lightning-rod a little after ten, and tookone of the candles along, and listened under the window-hole, and heardJim snoring; so we pitched it in, and it didn't wake him. ?Then wewhirled in with the pick and shovel, and in about two hours and a halfthe job was done. ?We crept in under Jim's bed and into the cabin, andpawed around and found the candle and lit it, and stood over Jim awhile,and found him looking hearty and healthy, and then we woke him up gentleand gradual. ?He was so glad to see us he most cried; and called ushoney, and all the pet names he could think of; and was for having ushunt up a cold-chisel to cut the chain off of his leg with right away,and clearing out without losing any time. ?But Tom he showed him howunregular it would be, and set down and told him all about our plans,and how we could alter them in a minute any time there was an alarm; andnot to be the least afraid, because we would see he got away, _sure_.?So Jim he said it was all right, and we set there and talked over oldtimes awhile, and then Tom asked a lot of questions, and when Jim toldhim Uncle Silas come in every day or two to pray with him, and AuntSally come in to see if he was comfortable and had plenty to eat, andboth of them was kind as they could be, Tom says:
"_Now_ I know how to fix it. ?We'll send you some things by them."
I said, "Don't do nothing of the kind; it's one of the most jackassideas I ever struck;" but he never paid no attention to me; went righton. ?It was his way when he'd got his plans set.
So he told Jim how we'd have to smuggle in the rope-ladder pie and otherlarge things by Nat, the nigger that fed him, and he must be on thelookout, and not be surprised, and not let Nat see him open them; andwe would put small things in uncle's coat-pockets and he must steal themout; and we would tie things to aunt's apron-strings or put them in herapron-pocket, if we got a chance; and told him what they would be andwhat they was for. ?And told him how to keep a journal on the shirt withhis blood, and all that. He told him everything. ?Jim he couldn't seeno sense in the most of it, but he allowed we was white folks and knowedbetter than him; so he was satisfied, and said he would do it all justas Tom said.
Jim had plenty corn-cob pipes and tobacco; so we had a right down goodsociable time; then we crawled out through the hole, and so home tobed, with hands that looked like they'd been chawed. ?Tom was in highspirits. He said it was the best fun he ever had in his life, and themost intellectural; and said if he only could see his way to it we wouldkeep it up all the rest of our lives and leave Jim to our children toget out; for he believed Jim would come to like it better and better themore he got used to it. ?He said that in that way it could be strung outto as much as eighty year, and would be the best time on record. ?And hesaid it would make us all celebrated that had a hand in it.
In the morning we went out to the woodpile and chopped up the brasscandlestick into handy sizes, and Tom put them and the pewter spoon inhis pocket. ?Then we went to the nigger cabins, and while I got Nat'snotice off, Tom shoved a piece of candlestick into the middle of acorn-pone that was in Jim's pan, and we went along with Nat to see howit would work, and it just worked noble; when Jim bit into it it mostmashed all his teeth out; and there warn't ever anything could a workedbetter. Tom said so himself. Jim he never let on but what it was onlyjust a piece of rock or something like that that's always getting intobread, you know; but after that he never bit into nothing but what hejabbed his fork into it in three or four places f
irst.
And whilst we was a-standing there in the dimmish light, here comes acouple of the hounds bulging in from under Jim's bed; and they kept onpiling in till there was eleven of them, and there warn't hardly roomin there to get your breath. ?By jings, we forgot to fasten that lean-todoor! ?The nigger Nat he only just hollered "Witches" once, and keeledover on to the floor amongst the dogs, and begun to groan like he wasdying. ?Tom jerked the door open and flung out a slab of Jim's meat,and the dogs went for it, and in two seconds he was out himself and backagain and shut the door, and I knowed he'd fixed the other door too.Then he went to work on the nigger, coaxing him and petting him, andasking him if he'd been imagining he saw something again. ?He raised up,and blinked his eyes around, and says:
"Mars Sid, you'll say I's a fool, but if I didn't b'lieve I see most amillion dogs, er devils, er some'n, I wisht I may die right heah in desetracks. ?I did, mos' sholy. ?Mars Sid, I _felt_ um--I _felt_ um, sah; deywas all over me. ?Dad fetch it, I jis' wisht I could git my han's on oneer dem witches jis' wunst--on'y jis' wunst--it's all I'd ast. ?But mos'lyI wisht dey'd lemme 'lone, I does."
Tom says:
"Well, I tell you what I think. ?What makes them come here just at thisrunaway nigger's breakfast-time? ?It's because they're hungry; that'sthe reason. ?You make them a witch pie; that's the thing for _you_ todo."
"But my lan', Mars Sid, how's I gwyne to make 'm a witch pie? ?I doan'know how to make it. ?I hain't ever hearn er sich a thing b'fo'."
"Well, then, I'll have to make it myself."
"Will you do it, honey?--will you? ?I'll wusshup de groun' und' yo' foot,I will!"
"All right, I'll do it, seeing it's you, and you've been good to us andshowed us the runaway nigger. ?But you got to be mighty careful. ?Whenwe come around, you turn your back; and then whatever we've put in thepan, don't you let on you see it at all. ?And don't you look when Jimunloads the pan--something might happen, I don't know what. ?And aboveall, don't you _handle_ the witch-things."
"_Hannel 'M_, Mars Sid? ?What _is_ you a-talkin' 'bout? ?I wouldn'lay de weight er my finger on um, not f'r ten hund'd thous'n billiondollars, I wouldn't."
