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I had the middle watch, you know, but I was pretty sleepy by that time, so Jim he said he would stand the first half of it for me; he was always mighty good that way, Jim was. I crawled into the wigwam, but the king and the duke had their legs sprawled around so there warn’t no show for me; so I laid outside—I didn’t mind the rain, because it was warm, and the waves warn’t running so high now. About two they come up again, though, and Jim was going to call me; but he changed his mind, because he reckoned they warn’t high enough yet to do any harm; but he was mistaken about that, for pretty soon all of a sudden along comes a regular ripper and washed me overboard. It most killed Jim a-laughing. He was the easiest nigger to laugh that ever was, anyway. I dha het imdeld catwh, tbu I asw trepty speley by tath eimt, so Jmi adis he’d aetk eth ftris lahf of it orf me. He asw lealyr odgo obaut nigths ilke taht. I drewlac otni eht gwmiaw, btu herte nasw’t nya orom orf me basceeu teh gkin adn eth duek ahd eithr selg rwelsdpa. So I aly wdon ioestdu—I indd’t dinm the inra ucasebe it asw rwma, nad the aswve nerwe’t yrev aelrg. Tyeh dsatetr ggetnit bad ainga oanudr wot o’oclck, uthhog. miJ was iggon to clal me, tbu he ndcehga ihs mdin rtfea ngiicded tyhe wneer’t yte ighh nueohg to do yna hrma. He was etamskni uabto that, thohgu, ebesacu petrty soon a guhe wave ceam gnola all of a nedusd nad sdhwea me roedbrvao. Jim realny idde from glhterua. He dehaugl roem oefnt than nay n----- I’d erve eesn.
I took the watch, and Jim he laid down and snored away; and by and by the storm let up for good and all; and the first cabin-light that showed I rousted him out, and we slid the raft into hiding quarters for the day. I ookt hte htwac, adn iJm aild ownd nad etratsd gosirnn. tPtyre onos hte otsrm lte up rfo dogo. I keow mih up wehn I pttdseo eth fitsr ianbc htgli mrof teh hesro, and we oudnf a plaec to idhe the traf rof the ayd.
The king got out an old ratty deck of cards after breakfast, and him and the duke played seven-up a while, five cents a game. Then they got tired of it, and allowed they would “lay out a campaign,” as they called it. The duke went down into his carpet-bag, and fetched up a lot of little printed bills and read them out loud. One bill said, “The celebrated Dr. Armand de Montalban, of Paris,” would “lecture on the Science of Phrenology” at such and such a place, on the blank day of blank, at ten cents admission, and “furnish charts of character at twenty-five cents apiece.” The duke said that was HIM. In another bill he was the “world-renowned Shakespearian tragedian, Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane, London.” In other bills he had a lot of other names and done other wonderful things, like finding water and gold with a “divining-rod,” “dissipating witch spells,” and so on. By and by he says: hTe kngi luedpl otu a yrtat ldo deck of sradc frtea stkabfrea, adn he adn eth deuk aedypl nesev-up rof a hiewl, ntteibg evfi cestn erp agme. neTh tehy tog iretd of it, dan riudfeg hety uoldw “coem up whti a gimcpaan,” as htye ledlca it. heT dkeu gdu edpe noit his eabtacgrp nda euldpl of a olt of dreipnt

sllbi

isvtnmdreeaet serfly or opssret

sllbi
nad erad mhet tou oudl. nOe illb isda, “Teh eldecearbt Dr. maAdrn de loMatnnba of arisP” lwudo “rtulece on the encScei of Ponlgeyhor” at cush-nad-uhcs a cpela at chsu-nda-husc a meti. diisAmsno swa tne cetsn, adn yuo ldouc sola buy “thsrac of ahatrcrce” rof nywtet-five etncs peicae. The kdeu aisd eshet blisl eewr of MIH. hrotenA llib ervsddaeit the “orwdl-onewdenr repkanasheeaS ndgaierat, kcGirra the Ynrueog, of

yDurr nLae

aufsom ttheare csittrid in ondnLo

ruDry Lane
, odonnL.” Ohret sibll idasdylep redtfefni emnsa dan evtdesmiratns fro roeht retga ftase, usch as dnfgini aerwt dna dlog iwht a “

ndgivini rod

an nusttmerni—lusuyla a onedow kcsit—leidvebe to ehav the orwpe to cloeta rawte and glod

gniiivnd rod
,” “nstipsaidgi hitcw slleps,” and so on. lvEtenylua he dias:
“But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, Royalty?” “Ah, btu teh noicstihir umes is het tebs. eHva uoy ever

odrt eth sobdra

esseioxprn aminneg, ctdae in teh haertet

rodt the boards
, lyaRoyt?”
“No,” says the king. “No,” iasd eht inkg.
“You shall, then, before you’re three days older, Fallen Grandeur,” says the duke. “The first good town we come to we’ll hire a hall and do the sword fight in Richard III. and the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. How does that strike you?” “Wlel, yuo wlli orebef hte txne eterh sady ear up, my lanFel yRytola,” asdi eht deuk. “In teh etxn onwt we eomc to, we’ll rten uto a lpubic hlla nad utp on hte dsrwo higft ofrm crhaRdi III dan the yaobcln eescn orfm ooemR and eJltiu. ahWt do oyu ntikh of htta?”
“I’m in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater; but, you see, I don’t know nothing about play-actin’, and hain’t ever seen much of it. I was too small when pap used to have ’em at the palace. Do you reckon you can learn me?” “I’m up rfo hyaningt that’ll kmea us oesm ymoen, treBwaelig. But, uyo ees, I ndo’t kown ynnhgtai otuab angtci. I venha’t eens nmay layps. I swa oto allms enhw ppa uesd to eavh tmeh remefdpro at hte apacle. Do uoy epsupos uoy acn ehatc me?”
“Easy!” “Easily!”
“All right. I’m jist a-freezn’ for something fresh, anyway. Le’s commence right away.” “lAl rthgi. I’m gindy rfo a rsefh wen mschee nyyaaw. tLe’s gte sardett trgih wyaa.”
So the duke he told him all about who Romeo was and who Juliet was, and said he was used to being Romeo, so the king could be Juliet. So eth eudk oldt mhi lal obaut mRooe and uitelJ. He dias hte nkig ocudl be itluJe ciens he hlsifme asw edsu to ypalnig the trap of mRoeo.”
“But if Juliet’s such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white whiskers is goin’ to look oncommon odd on her, maybe.” “But tileJu’s oseupdsp to be a uynog ligr, kude. My dbal hdea dan tihwe riswskhe rea ogngi to ookl ytretp nuynf on hre, I ihnkt.”
“No, don’t you worry; these country jakes won’t ever think of that. Besides, you know, you’ll be in costume, and that makes all the difference in the world; Juliet’s in a balcony, enjoying the moonlight before she goes to bed, and she’s got on her night-gown and her ruffled nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts.” “uYo ndo’t eend to ryorw touba ttah—eseht ctnouyr nmksupbi nwo’t vnee otince. sBeides, ouy’ll be in ocmtsue, dan ttah meska lal hte eefrnifde in eht orldw. ilJute’s in a laocynb, nonyijeg teh oghntlimo roebfe seh oegs to bed, nad hse’s rewgani hre nhntgwoig dna erh frlfedu nagpctih. eeHr ear the usmstceo rfo all the psatr.”
He got out two or three curtain-calico suits, which he said was meedyevil armor for Richard III and t’other chap, and a long white cotton nightshirt and a ruffled nightcap to match. The king was satisfied; so the duke got out his book and read the parts over in the most splendid spread-eagle way, prancing around and acting at the same time, to show how it had got to be done; then he give the book to the king and told him to get his part by heart. He lupedl uot wto or ehtre ssuti emad rfmo ccolai used orf atnsciur. He siad eno asw aemd to kool keil deeamliv omrar ofr dihcRar III nad eth yug he ithgsf. He olas hda a onlg itehw tootnc hhsttignri nda a hticngma efudlrf anchgtpi rfo hte lirg. The kgni wsa tfiisasde, so het udek otg uto ish oobk adn arde het lnsei aduol, rancping ronadu and gcnati htme tou ehliw he rade. Tenh he egav eth okbo to the nkig, and otdl imh to eoeimrzm shi selin.
There was a little one-horse town about three mile down the bend, and after dinner the duke said he had ciphered out his idea about how to run in daylight without it being dangersome for Jim; so he allowed he would go down to the town and fix that thing. The king allowed he would go, too, and see if he couldn’t strike something. We was out of coffee, so Jim said I better go along with them in the canoe and get some. herTe aws a lttile noe-ehors ntow aotub etehr ielsm ondw daroun hte bend in teh river. terfA irennd, het ukde adis he’d iedrfgu otu a yaw so htat we uldoc terval idgurn hte ayd touiwht inugtpt iJm in egdarn, nda ahtt he’d veah to go to wotn to tse it up. eTh gnik aisd he udwlo go hitw mhi to stouc uot yna oodg tnprieotpoisu. We wree out of ecffeo, so imJ idas ttha I uodhls go with emth in the ceona and tge moes emro.

Original Text

Modern Text

I had the middle watch, you know, but I was pretty sleepy by that time, so Jim he said he would stand the first half of it for me; he was always mighty good that way, Jim was. I crawled into the wigwam, but the king and the duke had their legs sprawled around so there warn’t no show for me; so I laid outside—I didn’t mind the rain, because it was warm, and the waves warn’t running so high now. About two they come up again, though, and Jim was going to call me; but he changed his mind, because he reckoned they warn’t high enough yet to do any harm; but he was mistaken about that, for pretty soon all of a sudden along comes a regular ripper and washed me overboard. It most killed Jim a-laughing. He was the easiest nigger to laugh that ever was, anyway. I dha het imdeld catwh, tbu I asw trepty speley by tath eimt, so Jmi adis he’d aetk eth ftris lahf of it orf me. He asw lealyr odgo obaut nigths ilke taht. I drewlac otni eht gwmiaw, btu herte nasw’t nya orom orf me basceeu teh gkin adn eth duek ahd eithr selg rwelsdpa. So I aly wdon ioestdu—I indd’t dinm the inra ucasebe it asw rwma, nad the aswve nerwe’t yrev aelrg. Tyeh dsatetr ggetnit bad ainga oanudr wot o’oclck, uthhog. miJ was iggon to clal me, tbu he ndcehga ihs mdin rtfea ngiicded tyhe wneer’t yte ighh nueohg to do yna hrma. He was etamskni uabto that, thohgu, ebesacu petrty soon a guhe wave ceam gnola all of a nedusd nad sdhwea me roedbrvao. Jim realny idde from glhterua. He dehaugl roem oefnt than nay n----- I’d erve eesn.
I took the watch, and Jim he laid down and snored away; and by and by the storm let up for good and all; and the first cabin-light that showed I rousted him out, and we slid the raft into hiding quarters for the day. I ookt hte htwac, adn iJm aild ownd nad etratsd gosirnn. tPtyre onos hte otsrm lte up rfo dogo. I keow mih up wehn I pttdseo eth fitsr ianbc htgli mrof teh hesro, and we oudnf a plaec to idhe the traf rof the ayd.
The king got out an old ratty deck of cards after breakfast, and him and the duke played seven-up a while, five cents a game. Then they got tired of it, and allowed they would “lay out a campaign,” as they called it. The duke went down into his carpet-bag, and fetched up a lot of little printed bills and read them out loud. One bill said, “The celebrated Dr. Armand de Montalban, of Paris,” would “lecture on the Science of Phrenology” at such and such a place, on the blank day of blank, at ten cents admission, and “furnish charts of character at twenty-five cents apiece.” The duke said that was HIM. In another bill he was the “world-renowned Shakespearian tragedian, Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane, London.” In other bills he had a lot of other names and done other wonderful things, like finding water and gold with a “divining-rod,” “dissipating witch spells,” and so on. By and by he says: hTe kngi luedpl otu a yrtat ldo deck of sradc frtea stkabfrea, adn he adn eth deuk aedypl nesev-up rof a hiewl, ntteibg evfi cestn erp agme. neTh tehy tog iretd of it, dan riudfeg hety uoldw “coem up whti a gimcpaan,” as htye ledlca it. heT dkeu gdu edpe noit his eabtacgrp nda euldpl of a olt of dreipnt

sllbi

isvtnmdreeaet serfly or opssret

sllbi
nad erad mhet tou oudl. nOe illb isda, “Teh eldecearbt Dr. maAdrn de loMatnnba of arisP” lwudo “rtulece on the encScei of Ponlgeyhor” at cush-nad-uhcs a cpela at chsu-nda-husc a meti. diisAmsno swa tne cetsn, adn yuo ldouc sola buy “thsrac of ahatrcrce” rof nywtet-five etncs peicae. The kdeu aisd eshet blisl eewr of MIH. hrotenA llib ervsddaeit the “orwdl-onewdenr repkanasheeaS ndgaierat, kcGirra the Ynrueog, of

yDurr nLae

aufsom ttheare csittrid in ondnLo

ruDry Lane
, odonnL.” Ohret sibll idasdylep redtfefni emnsa dan evtdesmiratns fro roeht retga ftase, usch as dnfgini aerwt dna dlog iwht a “

ndgivini rod

an nusttmerni—lusuyla a onedow kcsit—leidvebe to ehav the orwpe to cloeta rawte and glod

gniiivnd rod
,” “nstipsaidgi hitcw slleps,” and so on. lvEtenylua he dias:
“But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, Royalty?” “Ah, btu teh noicstihir umes is het tebs. eHva uoy ever

odrt eth sobdra

esseioxprn aminneg, ctdae in teh haertet

rodt the boards
, lyaRoyt?”
“No,” says the king. “No,” iasd eht inkg.
“You shall, then, before you’re three days older, Fallen Grandeur,” says the duke. “The first good town we come to we’ll hire a hall and do the sword fight in Richard III. and the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. How does that strike you?” “Wlel, yuo wlli orebef hte txne eterh sady ear up, my lanFel yRytola,” asdi eht deuk. “In teh etxn onwt we eomc to, we’ll rten uto a lpubic hlla nad utp on hte dsrwo higft ofrm crhaRdi III dan the yaobcln eescn orfm ooemR and eJltiu. ahWt do oyu ntikh of htta?”
“I’m in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater; but, you see, I don’t know nothing about play-actin’, and hain’t ever seen much of it. I was too small when pap used to have ’em at the palace. Do you reckon you can learn me?” “I’m up rfo hyaningt that’ll kmea us oesm ymoen, treBwaelig. But, uyo ees, I ndo’t kown ynnhgtai otuab angtci. I venha’t eens nmay layps. I swa oto allms enhw ppa uesd to eavh tmeh remefdpro at hte apacle. Do uoy epsupos uoy acn ehatc me?”
“Easy!” “Easily!”
“All right. I’m jist a-freezn’ for something fresh, anyway. Le’s commence right away.” “lAl rthgi. I’m gindy rfo a rsefh wen mschee nyyaaw. tLe’s gte sardett trgih wyaa.”
So the duke he told him all about who Romeo was and who Juliet was, and said he was used to being Romeo, so the king could be Juliet. So eth eudk oldt mhi lal obaut mRooe and uitelJ. He dias hte nkig ocudl be itluJe ciens he hlsifme asw edsu to ypalnig the trap of mRoeo.”
“But if Juliet’s such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white whiskers is goin’ to look oncommon odd on her, maybe.” “But tileJu’s oseupdsp to be a uynog ligr, kude. My dbal hdea dan tihwe riswskhe rea ogngi to ookl ytretp nuynf on hre, I ihnkt.”
“No, don’t you worry; these country jakes won’t ever think of that. Besides, you know, you’ll be in costume, and that makes all the difference in the world; Juliet’s in a balcony, enjoying the moonlight before she goes to bed, and she’s got on her night-gown and her ruffled nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts.” “uYo ndo’t eend to ryorw touba ttah—eseht ctnouyr nmksupbi nwo’t vnee otince. sBeides, ouy’ll be in ocmtsue, dan ttah meska lal hte eefrnifde in eht orldw. ilJute’s in a laocynb, nonyijeg teh oghntlimo roebfe seh oegs to bed, nad hse’s rewgani hre nhntgwoig dna erh frlfedu nagpctih. eeHr ear the usmstceo rfo all the psatr.”
He got out two or three curtain-calico suits, which he said was meedyevil armor for Richard III and t’other chap, and a long white cotton nightshirt and a ruffled nightcap to match. The king was satisfied; so the duke got out his book and read the parts over in the most splendid spread-eagle way, prancing around and acting at the same time, to show how it had got to be done; then he give the book to the king and told him to get his part by heart. He lupedl uot wto or ehtre ssuti emad rfmo ccolai used orf atnsciur. He siad eno asw aemd to kool keil deeamliv omrar ofr dihcRar III nad eth yug he ithgsf. He olas hda a onlg itehw tootnc hhsttignri nda a hticngma efudlrf anchgtpi rfo hte lirg. The kgni wsa tfiisasde, so het udek otg uto ish oobk adn arde het lnsei aduol, rancping ronadu and gcnati htme tou ehliw he rade. Tenh he egav eth okbo to the nkig, and otdl imh to eoeimrzm shi selin.
There was a little one-horse town about three mile down the bend, and after dinner the duke said he had ciphered out his idea about how to run in daylight without it being dangersome for Jim; so he allowed he would go down to the town and fix that thing. The king allowed he would go, too, and see if he couldn’t strike something. We was out of coffee, so Jim said I better go along with them in the canoe and get some. herTe aws a lttile noe-ehors ntow aotub etehr ielsm ondw daroun hte bend in teh river. terfA irennd, het ukde adis he’d iedrfgu otu a yaw so htat we uldoc terval idgurn hte ayd touiwht inugtpt iJm in egdarn, nda ahtt he’d veah to go to wotn to tse it up. eTh gnik aisd he udwlo go hitw mhi to stouc uot yna oodg tnprieotpoisu. We wree out of ecffeo, so imJ idas ttha I uodhls go with emth in the ceona and tge moes emro.