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The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

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“Run her nose in shore,” says the king. I done it. “Wher’ you bound for, young man?” “Steer the canoe into the shore,” said the king, so I did. “Where are you headed, young man?”
“For the steamboat; going to Orleans.” “For the steamboat. I’m going to New Orleans.”
“Git aboard,” says the king. “Hold on a minute, my servant ’ll he’p you with them bags. Jump out and he’p the gentleman, Adolphus"—meaning me, I see. “Get aboard,” said the king. “Hold on a minute, my servant will help you with those bags. Jump out and help the gentleman, Adolphus”—by which he meant me, I realized.
I done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he’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 up there. The young fellow says: I did so, and then the three of us continued along in the canoe. The young fellow was really grateful. He said it was tough work toting his baggage in such hot weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he’d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning. Now, he said, he was going up river a few miles to see an old friend on a farm there. The young fellow said:
“When I first see you I says to myself, ’It’s Mr. Wilks, sure, and he come mighty near getting here in time.’ But then I says again, ’No, I reckon it ain’t him, or else he wouldn’t be paddling up the river.’ You AIN’T him, are you?” “When I first saw you I said to myself, ‘That’s Mr. Wilks, for sure. And he’s pretty much right on time.’ But then I thought a second and said, ‘No, I guess that isn’t him, or else he wouldn’t be paddling up the river. You AREN’T Mr. Wilks, are you?’”
“No, my name’s Blodgett—Elexander Blodgett—REVEREND Elexander Blodgett, 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 arriving in time, all the same, if he’s missed anything by it—which I hope he hasn’t.” “No. My name’s Blodgett—Elexander Blodgett. REVEREND Elexander Blodgett, I suppose I should say, since I’m one of the Lord’s poor servants. Still, though, I should say I’m sorry for Mr. Wilks not having arrived on time if he missed anything because of it—which I hope he hasn’t.”
“Well, he don’t miss any property by it, because he’ll get that all right; but he’s missed seeing his brother Peter die—which he mayn’t mind, nobody can tell as to that—but his brother would a give anything in this world to see HIM before he died; never talked about nothing else all these three weeks; hadn’t seen him since they was boys together—and hadn’t ever seen his brother William at all—that’s the 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 the married brother; him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William’s the only ones that’s left now; and, as I was saying, they haven’t got here in time.” “Well, he won’t be missing any property because he’s late, because he’ll be sure to get it eventually. But he missed seeing his brother Peter die—which he might not mind either, though nobody really knows about it. But his brother would have given anything in this world to see HIM before he died. He didn’t talk about anything else these past three weeks. He hadn’t seen his brother since they were boys together, and he’d never seen his brother William at all—that’s the deaf and mute one. William isn’t more than thirty or thirty-five years old. Peter and George were the only ones who moved out here. George was married—he and his wife died last year. Harvey and William are the only ones that are left alive now. And, as I was saying, they didn’t get here in time.”
“Did anybody send ’em word?” “Did anyone send word to them?”
“Oh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn’t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George’s g’yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn’t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey—and William, too, for that matter—because he was one of them kind that can’t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he’d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George’s g’yirls would be all right—for George didn’t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.” “Oh yes, about a month or two ago when Peter first got sick. He said then that he felt like he wasn’t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George’s girls were too young to be of any use as company for him, except for Mary Jane, the red-headed one. So he was kind of lonesome after George and his wife died, and he didn’t seem to care much to live anymore. He desperately wanted to see Harvey—and William too for that matter—because he was one of those people who couldn’t stand to write a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey. He said he’d told him in the letter where he’d hidden his money and how he wanted the rest of his property to be divided up so that George’s girls would be okay, because George hadn’t left them anything. That letter was all they could get him to write.”
“Why do you reckon Harvey don’t come? Wher’ does he live?” “Why do you think Harvey hasn’t come? Where does he live?”
“Oh, he lives in England—Sheffield—preaches there—hasn’t ever been in this country. He hasn’t had any too much time—and besides he mightn’t a got the letter at all, you know.” “Oh, he lives in England, in Sheffield. He preaches there. He’s never been to this country. He hasn’t had much time to travel. Besides, he might not have gotten the letter at all, you know.”
“Too bad, too bad he couldn’t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?” “Too bad. It’s too bad he couldn’t have lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to New Orleans, you say?”
“Yes, but that ain’t only a part of it. I’m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.” “Yes, but that’s only part of my trip. Next Wednesday, I’m boarding a ship for Rio de Janiero, where my Uncle lives.”
“It’s a pretty long journey. But it’ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?” “That’s a pretty long journey, but it’ll be a lovely trip. I wish I were going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old are the others?”
“Mary Jane’s nineteen, Susan’s fifteen, and Joanna’s about fourteen—that’s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.” “Mary Jane’s nineteen years old, Susan is fifteen, and Joanna’s about fourteen. Joanna’s the one with the hare-lip. She devotes herself to helping others.”
“Poor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.” “Poor things! To be left alone like that in this cold world.”
“Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain’t going 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 the widow Bartley, and—well, there’s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey ’ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.” “Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they won’t let anything bad happen to thode girls. There’s Hobson, the Baptist preacher, and Deacon Lot Hovey. Then there’s Ben Rucker and Abner Shackleford and Levi Bell, the lawyer. There’s also Dr. Robinson, plus all those men’s wives and the widow Bartley—well, there’s a lot of them. But those people are the ones that Peter was closest to and would write about sometimes in letters home. So Harvey will know where to look for friends when he gets here.”

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