WHEN I got there it was all
still and Sunday-like, and hot
and sunshiny; the hands was gone
to the fields; and there was
them kind of faint dronings of
bugs and flies in the air that
makes it seem so lonesome and
like everybody's dead and gone;
and if a breeze fans along and
quivers the leaves it makes you
feel mournful, because you feel
like it's spirits whispering
-- spirits that's been dead ever
so many years -- and you always
think they're talking about YOU.
As a general thing it makes a
body wish HE was dead, too, and
done with it all.
Phelps' was one of these little
one-horse cotton plantations,
and they all look alike. A rail
fence round a two-acre yard;
a stile made out of logs sawed
off and up-ended in steps, like
barrels of a different length,
to climb over the fence with,
and for the women to stand on
when they are going to jump on
to a horse; some sickly grass-patches
in the big yard, but mostly it
was bare and smooth, like an
old hat with the nap rubbed off;
big double log-house for the
white folks -- hewed logs, with
the chinks stopped up with mud
or mortar, and these mud-stripes
been whitewashed some time or
another; round-log kitchen, with
a big broad, open but roofed
passage joining it to the house;
log smokehouse back of the kitchen;
three little log nigger-cabins
in a row t'other side the smoke-house;
one little hut all by itself
away down against the back fence,
and some outbuildings down a
piece the other side; ashhopper
and big kettle to bile soap in
by the little hut; bench by the
kitchen door, with bucket of
water and a gourd; hound asleep
there in the sun; more hounds
asleep round about; about three
shade trees away off in a corner;
some currant bushes and gooseberry
bushes in one place by the fence;
outside of the fence a garden
and a watermelon patch; then
the cotton fields begins, and
after the fields the woods.
I went around and clumb over
the back stile by the ash-hopper,
and started for the kitchen.
When I got a little ways I heard
the dim hum of a spinning-wheel
wailing along up and sinking
along down again; and then I
knowed for certain I wished I
was dead -- for that IS the lonesomest
sound in the whole world.
I went right along, not fixing
up any particular plan, but just
trusting to Providence to put
the right words in my mouth when
the time come; for I'd noticed
that Providence always did put
the right words in my mouth if
I left it alone.
When I got half-way, first
one hound and then another got
up and went for me, and of course
I stopped and faced them, and
kept still. And such another
powwow as they made! In a quarter
of a minute I was a kind of a
hub of a wheel, as you may say
-- spokes made out of dogs --
circle of fifteen of them packed
together around me, with their
necks and noses stretched up
towards me, a-barking and howling;
and more a-coming; you could
see them sailing over fences
and around corners from everywheres.
A nigger woman
come tearing out of the kitchen
with a rolling-pin
in her hand, singing out, "Begone
YOU Tige! you Spot! begone sah!" and
she fetched first one and then
another of them a clip and sent
them howling, and then the rest
followed; and the next second
half of them come back, wagging
their tails around me, and making
friends with me. There ain't
no harm in a hound, nohow.
And behind the woman comes
a little nigger girl and two
little nigger boys without anything
on but tow-linen shirts, and
they hung on to their mother's
gown, and peeped out from behind
her at me, bashful, the way they
always do. And here comes the
white woman running from the
house, about forty-five or fifty
year old, bareheaded, and her
spinning-stick in her hand; and
behind her comes her little white
children, acting the same way
the little niggers was going.
She was smiling all over so she
could hardly stand -- and says:
"It's YOU,
at last! -- AIN'T it?"
I out with
a "Yes'm" before
I thought.
She grabbed
me and hugged me tight; and
then gripped me by
both hands and shook and shook;
and the tears come in her eyes,
and run down over; and she couldn't
seem to hug and shake enough,
and kept saying, "You don't look
as much like your mother as I
reckoned you would; but law sakes,
I don't care for that, I'm so
glad to see you! Dear, dear,
it does seem like I could eat
you up! Children, it's your cousin
Tom! -- tell him howdy."
But they ducked their heads,
and put their fingers in their
mouths, and hid behind her. So
she run on:
"Lize, hurry
up and get him a hot breakfast
right away --
or did you get your breakfast
on the boat?"
I said I had got it on the
boat. So then she started for
the house, leading me by the
hand, and the children tagging
after. When we got there she
set me down in a split-bottomed
chair, and set herself down on
a little low stool in front of
me, holding both of my hands,
and says:
"Now I can
have a GOOD look at you; and,
laws-ame, I've been
hungry for it a many and a many
a time, all these long years,
and it's come at last! We been
expecting you a couple of days
and more. What kep' you? -- boat
get aground?"
"Yes'm -- she
--"
"Don't say
yes'm -- say Aunt Sally. Where'd
she get aground?"
I didn't rightly know what
to say, because I didn't know
whether the boat would be coming
up the river or down. But I go
a good deal on instinct; and
my instinct said she would be
coming up -- from down towards
Orleans. That didn't help me
much, though; for I didn't know
the names of bars down that way.
I see I'd got to invent a bar,
or forget the name of the one
we got aground on -- or -- Now
I struck an idea, and fetched
it out:
"It warn't
the grounding -- that didn't
keep us back but
a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head."
"Good gracious!
anybody hurt?"
"No'm. Killed
a nigger."
"Well, it's
lucky; because sometimes people
do get hurt.
Two years ago last Christmas
your uncle Silas was coming up
from Newrleans on the old Lally
Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head
and crippled a man. And I think
he died afterwards. He was a
Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed
a family in Baton Rouge that
knowed his people very well.
Yes, I remember now, he DID die.
Mortification set in, and they
had to amputate him. But it didn't
save him. Yes, it was mortification
-- that was it. He turned blue
all over, and died in the hope
of a glorious resurrection. They
say he was a sight to look at.
Your uncle's been up to the town
every day to fetch you. And he's
gone again, not more'n an hour
ago; he'll be back any minute
now. You must a met him on the
road, didn't you? -- oldish man,
with a --"
"No, I didn't
see nobody, Aunt Sally. The
boat landed just at
daylight, and I left my baggage
on the wharf-boat and went looking
around the town and out a piece
in the country, to put in the
time and not get here too soon;
and so I come down the back way."
"Who'd you
give the baggage to?"
"Nobody."
"Why, child,
it 'll be stole!"
"Not where I hid it I reckon
it won't," I says.
"How'd you
get your breakfast so early
on the boat?"
It was kinder thin ice, but
I says:
"The captain
see me standing around, and
told me I better
have something to eat before
I went ashore; so he took me
in the texas to the officers'
lunch, and give me all I wanted."
I was getting so uneasy I couldn't
listen good. I had my mind on
the children all the time; I
wanted to get them out to one
side and pump them a little,
and find out who I was. But I
couldn't get no show, Mrs. Phelps
kept it up and run on so. Pretty
soon she made the cold chills
streak all down my back, because
she says:
"But here we're
a-running on this way, and
you hain't told
me a word about Sis, nor any
of them. Now I'll rest my works
a little, and you start up yourn;
just tell me EVERYTHING -- tell
me all about 'm all every one
of 'm; and how they are, and
what they're doing, and what
they told you to tell me; and
every last thing you can think
of."
Well, I see I was up a stump
-- and up it good. Providence
had stood by me this fur all
right, but I was hard and tight
aground now. I see it warn't
a bit of use to try to go ahead
-- I'd got to throw up my hand.
So I says to myself, here's another
place where I got to resk the
truth. I opened my mouth to begin;
but she grabbed me and hustled
me in behind the bed, and says:
"Here he comes!
Stick your head down lower
-- there, that'll
do; you can't be seen now. Don't
you let on you're here. I'll
play a joke on him. Children,
don't you say a word."
I see I was in a fix now. But
it warn't no use to worry; there
warn't nothing to do but just
hold still, and try and be ready
to stand from under when the
lightning struck.
I had just one little glimpse
of the old gentleman when he
come in; then the bed hid him.
Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him,
and says:
"Has he come?"
"No," says
her husband.
"Good-NESS gracious!" she says, "what
in the warld can have become
of him?"
"I can't imagine," says the
old gentleman; "and I must say
it makes me dreadful uneasy."
"Uneasy!" she says; "I'm
ready to go distracted! He
MUST a come;
and you've missed him along the
road. I KNOW it's so -- something
tells me so."
"Why, Sally,
I COULDN'T miss him along the
road -- YOU know
that."
"But oh, dear,
dear, what WILL Sis say! He
must a come! You
must a missed him. He --"
"Oh, don't
distress me any more'n I'm
already distressed.
I don't know what in the world
to make of it. I'm at my wit's
end, and I don't mind acknowledging
't I'm right down scared. But
there's no hope that he's come;
for he COULDN'T come and me miss
him. Sally, it's terrible --
just terrible -- something's
happened to the boat, sure!"
"Why, Silas!
Look yonder! -- up the road!
-- ain't that somebody
coming?"
He sprung to the window at
the head of the bed, and that
give Mrs. Phelps the chance she
wanted. She stooped down quick
at the foot of the bed and give
me a pull, and out I come; and
when he turned back from the
window there she stood, a-beaming
and a-smiling like a house afire,
and I standing pretty meek and
sweaty alongside. The old gentleman
stared, and says:
"Why, who's
that?"
"Who do you
reckon 't is?"
"I hain't no
idea. Who IS it?"
"It's TOM SAWYER!"
By jings, I most slumped through
the floor! But there warn't no
time to swap knives; the old
man grabbed me by the hand and
shook, and kept on shaking; and
all the time how the woman did
dance around and laugh and cry;
and then how they both did fire
off questions about Sid, and
Mary, and the rest of the tribe.
But if they was joyful, it
warn't nothing to what I was;
for it was like being born again,
I was so glad to find out who
I was. Well, they froze to me
for two hours; and at last, when
my chin was so tired it couldn't
hardly go any more, I had told
them more about my family --
I mean the Sawyer family -- than
ever happened to any six Sawyer
families. And I explained all
about how we blowed out a cylinder-head
at the mouth of White River,
and it took us three days to
fix it. Which was all right,
and worked first-rate; because
THEY didn't know but what it
would take three days to fix
it. If I'd a called it a bolthead
it would a done just as well.
Now I was feeling pretty comfortable
all down one side, and pretty
uncomfortable all up the other.
Being Tom Sawyer was easy and
comfortable, and it stayed easy
and comfortable till by and by
I hear a steamboat coughing along
down the river. Then I says to
myself, s'pose Tom Sawyer comes
down on that boat? And s'pose
he steps in here any minute,
and sings out my name before
I can throw him a wink to keep
quiet?
Well, I couldn't HAVE it that
way; it wouldn't do at all. I
must go up the road and waylay
him. So I told the folks I reckoned
I would go up to the town and
fetch down my baggage. The old
gentleman was for going along
with me, but I said no, I could
drive the horse myself, and I
druther he wouldn't take no trouble
about me.
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