CHAPTER XXXIII.
SO I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a wagoncoming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited tillhe come along. I says "Hold on!" and it stopped alongside, and his mouthopened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or threetimes like a person that's got a dry throat, and then says:
"I hain't ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you wantto come back and ha'nt ME for?"
I says:
"I hain't come back--I hain't been GONE."
When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn't quitesatisfied yet. He says:
"Don't you play nothing on me, because I wouldn't on you. Honest injun,you ain't a ghost?"
"Honest injun, I ain't," I says.
"Well--I--I--well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can'tsomehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn't you evermurdered AT ALL?"
"No. I warn't ever murdered at all--I played it on them. You come inhere and feel of me if you don't believe me."
So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me againhe didn't know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off,because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him wherehe lived. But I said, leave it alone till by and by; and told his driverto wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of afix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let himalone a minute, and don't disturb him. So he thought and thought, andpretty soon he says:
"It's all right; I've got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let onit's your'n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to thehouse about the time you ought to; and I'll go towards town a piece, andtake a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you;and you needn't let on to know me at first."
I says:
"All right; but wait a minute. There's one more thing--a thing thatNOBODY don't know but me. And that is, there's a nigger here that I'ma-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is JIM--old Miss Watson'sJim."
He says:
"What! Why, Jim is--"
He stopped and went to studying. I says:
"I know what you'll say. You'll say it's dirty, low-down business; butwhat if it is? I'm low down; and I'm a-going to steal him, and I wantyou keep mum and not let on. Will you?"
His eye lit up, and he says:
"I'll HELP you steal him!"
Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the mostastonishing speech I ever heard--and I'm bound to say Tom Sawyer fellconsiderable in my estimation. Only I couldn't believe it. Tom Sawyer aNIGGER-STEALER!
"Oh, shucks!" I says; "you're joking."
"I ain't joking, either."
"Well, then," I says, "joking or no joking, if you hear anything saidabout a runaway nigger, don't forget to remember that YOU don't knownothing about him, and I don't know nothing about him."
Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his wayand I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow onaccounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap tooquick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, andhe says:
"Why, this is wonderful! Whoever would a thought it was in that mare todo it? I wish we'd a timed her. And she hain't sweated a hair--not ahair. It's wonderful. Why, I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for thathorse now--I wouldn't, honest; and yet I'd a sold her for fifteenbefore, and thought 'twas all she was worth."
That's all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see.But it warn't surprising; because he warn't only just a farmer, he was apreacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of theplantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a churchand schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it wasworth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, anddone the same way, down South.
In about half an hour Tom's wagon drove up to the front stile, and AuntSally she see it through the window, because it was only about fiftyyards, and says:
"Why, there's somebody come! I wonder who 'tis? Why, I do believe it'sa stranger. Jimmy" (that's one of the children) "run and tell Lize toput on another plate for dinner."
Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a strangerdon't come EVERY year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, forinterest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for thehouse; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was allbunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and anaudience--and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstancesit warn't no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that wassuitable. He warn't a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no,he come ca'm and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us helifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a boxthat had butterflies asleep in it and he didn't want to disturb them, andsays:
"Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?"
"No, my boy," says the old gentleman, "I'm sorry to say 't your driverhas deceived you; Nichols's place is down a matter of three mile more.Come in, come in."
Tom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, "Too late--he's outof sight."
"Yes, he's gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner withus; and then we'll hitch up and take you down to Nichols's."
"Oh, I CAN'T make you so much trouble; I couldn't think of it. I'll walk--I don't mind the distance."
"But we won't LET you walk--it wouldn't be Southern hospitality to do it.Come right in."
"Oh, DO," says Aunt Sally; "it ain't a bit of trouble to us, not a bit inthe world. You must stay. It's a long, dusty three mile, and we can'tlet you walk. And, besides, I've already told 'em to put on anotherplate when I see you coming; so you mustn't disappoint us. Come right inand make yourself at home."
So Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself bepersuaded, and come in; and when he was in he said he was a stranger fromHicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompson--and he made anotherbow.
Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville andeverybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, andwondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last,still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on themouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and wasgoing on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of herhand, and says:
"You owdacious puppy!"
He looked kind of hurt, and says:
"I'm surprised at you, m'am."
"You're s'rp--Why, what do you reckon I am? I've a good notion to takeand--Say, what do you mean by kissing me?"
He looked kind of humble, and says:
"I didn't mean nothing, m'am. I didn't mean no harm. I--I--thoughtyou'd like it."
"Why, you born fool!" She took up the spinning stick, and it looked likeit was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. "Whatmade you think I'd like it?"
"Well, I don't know. Only, they--they--told me you would."
"THEY told you I would. Whoever told you's ANOTHER lunatic. I neverheard the beat of it. Who's THEY?"
"Why, everybody. They all said so, m'am."
It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingersworked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:
"Who's 'everybody'? Out with their names, or ther'll be an idiot short."
He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:
"I'm sorry, and I warn't expecting it. They told me to. They all toldme to. They all said, kiss her; and said she'd like it. They all saidit--every one of them. But I'm sorry, m'am, and I won't do it no more--I won't, honest."
"You won't, won't you? Well, I sh'd RECKON you won't!"
"No'm, I'm honest about it; I won't ever do it again--till you ask me."
"Till I ASK you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! Ilay you'll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you--or the likes of you."
"Well," he says, "it does surprise me so. I can't make it out, somehow.They said you would, and I thought you would. But--" He stopped andlooked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eyesomewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman's, and says, "Didn't YOUthink she'd like me to kiss her, sir?"
"Why, no; I--I--well, no, I b'lieve I didn't."
Then he looks on around the same way to me, and says:
"Tom, didn't YOU think Aunt Sally 'd open out her arms and say, 'SidSawyer--'"
"My land!" she says, breaking in and jumping for him, "you impudent youngrascal, to fool a body so--" and was going to hug him, but he fended heroff, and says:
"No, not till you've asked me first."
So she didn't lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed himover and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he tookwhat was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:
"Why, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn't looking for YOU atall, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him."
"It's because it warn't INTENDED for any of us to come but Tom," he says;"but I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too;so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a first-ratesurprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me to by and bytag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it was amistake, Aunt Sally. This ain't no healthy place for a stranger tocome."
"No--not impudent whelps, Sid. You ought to had your jaws boxed; Ihain't been so put out since I don't know when. But I don't care, Idon't mind the terms--I'd be willing to stand a thousand such jokes tohave you here. Well, to think of that performance! I don't deny it, Iwas most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack."
We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and thekitchen; and there was things enough on that table for seven families--and all hot, too; none of your flabby, tough meat that's laid in acupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of old coldcannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long blessingover it, but it was worth it; and it didn't cool it a bit, neither, theway I've seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. There was aconsiderable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me and Tom was onthe lookout all the time; but it warn't no use, they didn't happen to saynothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid to try to work up toit. But at supper, at night, one of the little boys says:
"Pa, mayn't Tom and Sid and me go to the show?"
"No," says the old man, "I reckon there ain't going to be any; and youcouldn't go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and meall about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people;so I reckon they've drove the owdacious loafers out of town before thistime."
So there it was!--but I couldn't help it. Tom and me was to sleep in thesame room and bed; so, being tired, we bid good-night and went up to bedright after supper, and clumb out of the window and down thelightning-rod, and shoved for the town; for I didn't believe anybody wasgoing to give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn't hurry upand give them one they'd get into trouble sure.
On the road Tom he told me all about how it was reckoned I was murdered,and how pap disappeared pretty soon, and didn't come back no more, andwhat a stir there was when Jim run away; and I told Tom all about ourRoyal Nonesuch rapscallions, and as much of the raft voyage as I had timeto; and as we struck into the town and up through the--here comes araging rush of people with torches, and an awful whooping and yelling,and banging tin pans and blowing horns; and we jumped to one side to letthem go by; and as they went by I see they had the king and the dukeastraddle of a rail--that is, I knowed it WAS the king and the duke,though they was all over tar and feathers, and didn't look like nothingin the world that was human--just looked like a couple of monstrous bigsoldier-plumes. Well, it made me sick to see it; and I was sorry forthem poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn't ever feel anyhardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing tosee. Human beings CAN be awful cruel to one another.
We see we was too late--couldn't do no good. We asked some stragglersabout it, and they said everybody went to the show looking very innocent;and laid low and kept dark till the poor old king was in the middle ofhis cavortings on the stage; then somebody give a signal, and the houserose up and went for them.
So we poked along back home, and I warn't feeling so brash as I wasbefore, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow--though Ihadn't done nothing. But that's always the way; it don't make nodifference whether you do right or wrong, a person's conscience ain't gotno sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog thatdidn't know no more than a person's conscience does I would pison him.It takes up more room than all the rest of a person's insides, and yetain't no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.