Original Text
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Modern Text
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“Don’t you reckon I know what I’m about? Don’t I generly know what I’m
about?”
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“Don’t you think I know what I’m doing? Don’t I usually know what’s going
on?”
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“Yes.”
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“Yes.”
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“Didn’t I SAY I was going to help steal the nigger?”
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“Didn’t I SAY I was going to help steal a n-----?”
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“Yes.”
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“Yes.”
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“WELL, then.”
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“Well, there you go, then.”
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That’s all he said, and that’s all I said. It warn’t no use to say any
more; because when he said he’d do a thing, he always done it. But I
couldn’t make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let it
go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it so, I
couldn’t help it.
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That’s all he said, and that’s all I said. It wasn’t any use to say
anything more. When he said he was going to do something, he always did it.
But I still didn’t understand why he was willing to help. I just let it go,
and didn’t think any more about it. If he was intent on it being this way,
then I couldn’t change it.
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When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to
the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as
to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn’t make no more
noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night.
When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and
on the side I warn’t acquainted with—which was the north side—we found a
square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed
across it. I says:
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When we got home, the house was dark and still, so we went down to the hut
by the ash-hopper to examine it. We went through the yard so we could see
how the dogs would react. They knew us, and didn’t make any noise other than
the noises country dogs usually make when something passes by in the night.
When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides. On
the one side that I wasn’t familiar with—the north side—we found a square
hole that served as a window. It was pretty high up and had one board nailed
across it. I said:
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“Here’s the ticket. This hole’s big enough for Jim to get through if we
wrench off the board.”
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“Here’s how we’ll do it. This hole is big enough for Jim to get through if
we pulled the board off.”
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Tom says:
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Tom said:
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“It’s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing
hooky. I should HOPE we can find a way that’s a little more complicated than
THAT, Huck Finn.”
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“That would be as simple as getting three-in-a-row in tick-tack-toe. And
it’s just as easy as skipping school. I HOPE we can find a way to break him
out that’s more complicated than THAT, Huck Finn.”
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“Well, then,” I says, “how ’ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before
I was murdered that time?”
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“Well, then,” I said. “How about we saw him out, the way I did before I
was murdered?”
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“That’s more LIKE,” he says. “It’s real mysterious, and troublesome, and
good,” he says; “but I bet we can find a way that’s twice as long. There
ain’t no hurry; le’s keep on looking around.”
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“That’s more LIKE it,” he said. “That’ll make it really mysterious and
troublesome and good,” he said. “But I bet we can find a way that’s twice as
complicated. We’re not in a rush—let’s keep looking around.”
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Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined
the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut,
but narrow—only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end,
and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and
fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized
out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went
in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against
a cabin and hadn’t no connection with it; and there warn’t no floor to the
shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and
picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in
the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful.
He says;
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Around the rear, between the hut and fence was a lean-to made out of
planks that joined the hut at the eaves. It was a long as the hut, but
narrower—only about six feet wide. The door to it was on the south end and
padlocked. Tom went to the soap kettle and searched around, and finally
brought back the piece of iron they lift the lid with. He used it to pry up
one of the crossbeams. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went
in. We shut the door behind us and struck a match. We saw that the shed was
only built up next to the cabin, but wasn’t connected to it. We also saw
that the shed didn’t have a proper floor or anything in it except some rusty
old hoes, spades, picks, and broken plow. The match went out, and we left.
We locked the door again and made it as good as ever by replacing the
crossbeam. Tom was happy, and said:
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“Now we’re all right. We’ll DIG him out. It ’ll take about a week!”
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“Now we’re set—we’ll DIG him out. It’ll take about a week!”
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Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door—you only have
to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don’t fasten the doors—but that warn’t
romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must climb up
the lightning-rod. But after he got up half way about three times, and
missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted his brains
out, he thought he’d got to give it up; but after he was rested he allowed
he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time he made the
trip.
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We started back for the house. I went in the back door—you only had to
pull a buckskin latch-string since they didn’t fasten the doors properly.
That wasn’t dramatic enough for Tom Sawyer, though. Nothing would satisfy
him except climbing up the lightening rod. He tried climbing it three times,
but each time he only reached halfway before falling—the last time, he
nearly busting his brains out. After these unsuccessful attempts he decided
to give up. After resting a bit, though, he said he’d give it one more try,
and this time he made it all the way up.
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In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins to
pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jim—if it WAS Jim
that was being fed. The niggers was just getting through breakfast and
starting for the fields; and Jim’s nigger was piling up a tin pan with bread
and meat and things; and whilst the others was leaving, the key come from
the house.
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The next morning, we got up at dawn and went down to the n----- cabins to
pet the dogs and make friends with the n----- who’d fed Jim—if that WAS Jim
who was being fed. The n------ were just finishing up breakfast and heading
out to the fields. The n----- who fed Jim was piling up a tin pan with bread
and meat and things. While the others were leaving, the key came from the
house.
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This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all
tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said
the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all
kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and
he didn’t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so
worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about
what he’d been a-going to do. So Tom says:
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The n----- had a good-natured, smiling face, and his hair was all tied up
in little bunches with thread to keep the witches away. He said witches were
pestering him pretty badly these past few nights, causing him to see and
hear all kinds of strange things. He said he’d never been so bewitched in
all his life. He got so worked up telling us all about his troubles that he
forgot what he was going to do. So Tom said:
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