I felt so ornery and low down and mean, that I says to myself, My mind’s made up; I’ll hive that money for them or bust.
I felt dreadful glad I’d worked it all off onto the niggers and yet hadn’t done the niggers no harm by it.
I says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place, is taking considerable many resks, though I ain’t had no experience, and can’t say for certain; but it looks so to me, anyway; and yet here’s a case where I’m blest if it don’t look to me like the truth is better, and actuly safer, than a lie.
You may say what you want to, but in my opinion [Mary Jane] had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in my opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it ain’t no flattery.
I judged I had done it pretty neat—I reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn’t a done it no neater himself. Of course he would a throwed more style into it, but I can’t do that very handy, not being brung up to it.