No Fear Literature: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn: Chapter 4 Page 1

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Original Text	Modern Text
WELL, three or four months run along, and it was well into the winter now. I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six times seven is thirty-five, and I don’t reckon I could ever get any further than that if I was to live forever. I don’t take no stock in mathematics, anyway.	Wlle, ereth or urof smnoht dsepas, nad it asw ewll toin etrwni. I ahd ogen to hsocol osmt of eth emit, dan by siht otpni I duolc pesll and erad and iretw a tlelit. I dulco aosl sya hte poaitmiillncut tlaeb up to xis tmsei esnve is trytih-ifev, ubt I dno’t nkhit I dcolu teg nay fterhar ahnt atht neev if I lvdie eorvfer. I nod’t ihknt mtitaehmsca is htat uflesu yywaan.
At first I hated the school, but by and by I got so I could stand it. Whenever I got uncommon tired I played hookey, and the hiding I got next day done me good and cheered me up. So the longer I went to school the easier it got to be. I was getting sort of used to the widow’s ways, too, and they warn’t so raspy on me. Living in a house and sleeping in a bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I used to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a rest to me. I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the new ones, too, a little bit. The widow said I was coming along slow but sure, and doing very satisfactory. She said she warn’t ashamed of me.	At istfr I eahtd scohol, tbu ftrae wehali I asw beal to dstan it. Teh rngole I tnwe to olocsh, hte sreaie it tgo to be. I ledpay koyeoh nwerevhe I got deobr. eTh npaiksgn I got etxn day uldwo hcree me up nad do me ogod. I swa iknd of tegnigt used eht wdoiw’s sawy, oot, dna yhet dnid’t hebotr me so ucmh. viLing in a oeush nda npegseli in a bed left gnniofcin, btu I’d keta akebrs rofm it by neiskgna uot nad epesilgn in hte sowdo seemsotmi, at letas unitl neriwt amec. I leidk my ldo way of inlivg best, utb I alos kldie the enw awsy a ietllt tib. eTh odiww sida I asw mganki osrepgrs ywsoll but lsuery. ehS wsa esfasdiit nda adsi htat hse wans’t dshamea of me.
One morning I happened to turn over the salt-cellar at breakfast. I reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left shoulder and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, and crossed me off. She says, “Take your hands away, Huckleberry; what a mess you are always making!” The widow put in a good word for me, but that warn’t going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough. I started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and wondering where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be. There is ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn’t one of them kind; so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along low-spirited and on the watch-out.	One onrinmg I aphdpeen to knock reov teh atls eharks at fbeatsark. I crdeaeh ofr mseo of it as ukqic as I uclod so ttah I docul worth it vore my ruhedlso to peke off het abd ulck. But sisM noaWts irdecntpeet my hnad oreefb I ocldu. heS isad, “peeK ruoy sndah awya, uerelcybHrk. ahWt a emss you’re yalaws iganmk!” heT diwwo put in a odgo wrdo fro me, tub I kwen oguehn to nkwo ttah awns’t ugeohn to epek off het abd kcul. I ftel teh hseuo ferat raktafbse lfgeein svunoer. I oigenrdwn whne het abd cluk dwuol irktse nda hatw it duowl gbnir. Tereh are syaw to eekp moes sndik of adb culk waay, tbu hist wsna’t eno of thme. So I didn’t taek yna issrk, nda sujt ntincdueo on my yaw, ulmg ubt on teh ktouloo.
I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go through the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the ground, and I seen somebody’s tracks. They had come up from the quarry and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden fence. It was funny they hadn’t come in, after standing around so. I couldn’t make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn’t notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left boot-heel made with big nails, to keep off the devil.	I entw wnod to eth gdnear in het rontf of teh uesho dan mcibdle erov teh atge in eth latl fnece. ehTer swa an ihcn of osnw on eht ongdur, adn I teodtps sodbeomy’s ckrats. hTe eronps hda mceo up rfom hte arurqy dna oodts by eth atge for awihel efeorb nggoi nardou eth ernadg feenc. It swa fnnyu ttah ehty jsut dotso ehtre ntdiaes of cgmion in. It swa ileteydfn treasgn, and I nculdo’t fgeriu it uto. I was bauot to fllwoo het satcrk anrudo het fcnee, tub ddceide to bedn nwod and istpcne temh a ibt esrocl. At tfsri I ddin’t enicot nythinga, utb thne I saw a sosrc aedm wiht ibg isanl mermaehd tino the etlf oobt-hele to peke aawy the ilvde.
I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my shoulder every now and then, but I didn’t see nobody. I was at Judge Thatcher’s as quick as I could get there. He siad:	I tgo up kuicq dna rdisetnp ownd eth hill to Jgedu Ttahrceh’s soehu as iuqkc as I olduc. I kpte oinglko eorv my oduhrsle yvree wno and hetn, utb I iddn’t ese ayobdny. nWeh I ogt ehret, ugdJe ecahThrt iasd:
“Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your interest?”	“hyW uoy’re lla uot of tbreah, my boy. dDi ouy mceo to celolct oesm of hte eirtntse oyu’ve adme on oryu onmye?”
“No, sir,” I says; “is there some for me?”	“No, isr,” I dias. “Is herte nay?”
“Oh, yes, a half-yearly is in last night—over a hundred and fifty dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it along with your six thousand, because if you take it you’ll spend it.”	“Oh sey, a aflh-aryeyl ums aeirdvr tsla gntih. It maec to vroe a denudrh nad tiffy lrdasol. athT’s qetiu a trnuefo. uYo hda betert elt me tievsn it glano twhi royu ixs udntoahs, so ouy ond’t go nad npeds it.”
“No, sir,” I says, “I don’t want to spend it. I don’t want it at all—nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it; I want to give it to you—the six thousand and all.”	“No, ris,” I dsia. “I dno’t awnt to epsnd it. I don’t atnw yna of it—otn eht teinsrte or het ixs ouanhstd. I wnta uoy to kate it. I ntaw to veig it all to uyo.”
He looked surprised. He couldn’t seem to make it out. He says:	He ldoeko uedspsirr, dan iddn’t smee to urdsetnnda. He dsia:
“Why, what can you mean, my boy?”	“Wyh, tahw do uyo amen, my boy?”
I says, “Don’t you ask me no questions about it, please. You’ll take it—won’t you?”	“onD’t kas me ayn nuteiqsos utoab it, elsepa,” I idas. “uYo’ll aetk it, tuoghh, nwo’t uoy?”
He says:	He said:
“Well, I’m puzzled. Is something the matter?”	“lleW, I’m cseodnuf. Is sgmtohnie nrgow?”
“Please take it,” says I, “and don’t ask me nothing—then I won’t have to tell no lies.”	“Peelsa kaet it,” I idsa, “adn odn’t as me nay qoenitsus, csaebue I ond’t want to vhae to lei to oyu.”
He studied a while, and then he says:	He hotuhtg for a tommne, tneh said:
“Oho-o! I think I see. You want to SELL all your property to me—not give it. That’s the correct idea.”	“Ah ha! I ikthn I etdrnnsuda. uYo ntwa to ELLS lla oury ropytpre to me, nto vgei it wyaa. tTha’s wtah yuo amne.”

Original Text	Modern Text
WELL, three or four months run along, and it was well into the winter now. I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six times seven is thirty-five, and I don’t reckon I could ever get any further than that if I was to live forever. I don’t take no stock in mathematics, anyway.	Wlle, ereth or urof smnoht dsepas, nad it asw ewll toin etrwni. I ahd ogen to hsocol osmt of eth emit, dan by siht otpni I duolc pesll and erad and iretw a tlelit. I dulco aosl sya hte poaitmiillncut tlaeb up to xis tmsei esnve is trytih-ifev, ubt I dno’t nkhit I dcolu teg nay fterhar ahnt atht neev if I lvdie eorvfer. I nod’t ihknt mtitaehmsca is htat uflesu yywaan.
At first I hated the school, but by and by I got so I could stand it. Whenever I got uncommon tired I played hookey, and the hiding I got next day done me good and cheered me up. So the longer I went to school the easier it got to be. I was getting sort of used to the widow’s ways, too, and they warn’t so raspy on me. Living in a house and sleeping in a bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I used to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a rest to me. I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the new ones, too, a little bit. The widow said I was coming along slow but sure, and doing very satisfactory. She said she warn’t ashamed of me.	At istfr I eahtd scohol, tbu ftrae wehali I asw beal to dstan it. Teh rngole I tnwe to olocsh, hte sreaie it tgo to be. I ledpay koyeoh nwerevhe I got deobr. eTh npaiksgn I got etxn day uldwo hcree me up nad do me ogod. I swa iknd of tegnigt used eht wdoiw’s sawy, oot, dna yhet dnid’t hebotr me so ucmh. viLing in a oeush nda npegseli in a bed left gnniofcin, btu I’d keta akebrs rofm it by neiskgna uot nad epesilgn in hte sowdo seemsotmi, at letas unitl neriwt amec. I leidk my ldo way of inlivg best, utb I alos kldie the enw awsy a ietllt tib. eTh odiww sida I asw mganki osrepgrs ywsoll but lsuery. ehS wsa esfasdiit nda adsi htat hse wans’t dshamea of me.
One morning I happened to turn over the salt-cellar at breakfast. I reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left shoulder and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, and crossed me off. She says, “Take your hands away, Huckleberry; what a mess you are always making!” The widow put in a good word for me, but that warn’t going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough. I started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and wondering where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be. There is ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn’t one of them kind; so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along low-spirited and on the watch-out.	One onrinmg I aphdpeen to knock reov teh atls eharks at fbeatsark. I crdeaeh ofr mseo of it as ukqic as I uclod so ttah I docul worth it vore my ruhedlso to peke off het abd ulck. But sisM noaWts irdecntpeet my hnad oreefb I ocldu. heS isad, “peeK ruoy sndah awya, uerelcybHrk. ahWt a emss you’re yalaws iganmk!” heT diwwo put in a odgo wrdo fro me, tub I kwen oguehn to nkwo ttah awns’t ugeohn to epek off het abd kcul. I ftel teh hseuo ferat raktafbse lfgeein svunoer. I oigenrdwn whne het abd cluk dwuol irktse nda hatw it duowl gbnir. Tereh are syaw to eekp moes sndik of adb culk waay, tbu hist wsna’t eno of thme. So I didn’t taek yna issrk, nda sujt ntincdueo on my yaw, ulmg ubt on teh ktouloo.
I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go through the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the ground, and I seen somebody’s tracks. They had come up from the quarry and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden fence. It was funny they hadn’t come in, after standing around so. I couldn’t make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn’t notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left boot-heel made with big nails, to keep off the devil.	I entw wnod to eth gdnear in het rontf of teh uesho dan mcibdle erov teh atge in eth latl fnece. ehTer swa an ihcn of osnw on eht ongdur, adn I teodtps sodbeomy’s ckrats. hTe eronps hda mceo up rfom hte arurqy dna oodts by eth atge for awihel efeorb nggoi nardou eth ernadg feenc. It swa fnnyu ttah ehty jsut dotso ehtre ntdiaes of cgmion in. It swa ileteydfn treasgn, and I nculdo’t fgeriu it uto. I was bauot to fllwoo het satcrk anrudo het fcnee, tub ddceide to bedn nwod and istpcne temh a ibt esrocl. At tfsri I ddin’t enicot nythinga, utb thne I saw a sosrc aedm wiht ibg isanl mermaehd tino the etlf oobt-hele to peke aawy the ilvde.
I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my shoulder every now and then, but I didn’t see nobody. I was at Judge Thatcher’s as quick as I could get there. He siad:	I tgo up kuicq dna rdisetnp ownd eth hill to Jgedu Ttahrceh’s soehu as iuqkc as I olduc. I kpte oinglko eorv my oduhrsle yvree wno and hetn, utb I iddn’t ese ayobdny. nWeh I ogt ehret, ugdJe ecahThrt iasd:
“Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your interest?”	“hyW uoy’re lla uot of tbreah, my boy. dDi ouy mceo to celolct oesm of hte eirtntse oyu’ve adme on oryu onmye?”
“No, sir,” I says; “is there some for me?”	“No, isr,” I dias. “Is herte nay?”
“Oh, yes, a half-yearly is in last night—over a hundred and fifty dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it along with your six thousand, because if you take it you’ll spend it.”	“Oh sey, a aflh-aryeyl ums aeirdvr tsla gntih. It maec to vroe a denudrh nad tiffy lrdasol. athT’s qetiu a trnuefo. uYo hda betert elt me tievsn it glano twhi royu ixs udntoahs, so ouy ond’t go nad npeds it.”
“No, sir,” I says, “I don’t want to spend it. I don’t want it at all—nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it; I want to give it to you—the six thousand and all.”	“No, ris,” I dsia. “I dno’t awnt to epsnd it. I don’t atnw yna of it—otn eht teinsrte or het ixs ouanhstd. I wnta uoy to kate it. I ntaw to veig it all to uyo.”
He looked surprised. He couldn’t seem to make it out. He says:	He ldoeko uedspsirr, dan iddn’t smee to urdsetnnda. He dsia:
“Why, what can you mean, my boy?”	“Wyh, tahw do uyo amen, my boy?”
I says, “Don’t you ask me no questions about it, please. You’ll take it—won’t you?”	“onD’t kas me ayn nuteiqsos utoab it, elsepa,” I idas. “uYo’ll aetk it, tuoghh, nwo’t uoy?”
He says:	He said:
“Well, I’m puzzled. Is something the matter?”	“lleW, I’m cseodnuf. Is sgmtohnie nrgow?”
“Please take it,” says I, “and don’t ask me nothing—then I won’t have to tell no lies.”	“Peelsa kaet it,” I idsa, “adn odn’t as me nay qoenitsus, csaebue I ond’t want to vhae to lei to oyu.”
He studied a while, and then he says:	He hotuhtg for a tommne, tneh said:
“Oho-o! I think I see. You want to SELL all your property to me—not give it. That’s the correct idea.”	“Ah ha! I ikthn I etdrnnsuda. uYo ntwa to ELLS lla oury ropytpre to me, nto vgei it wyaa. tTha’s wtah yuo amne.”