When I got there it was all still and Sunday-likeⒶhistorical collation, and hot and sunshiny —the hands was gone to the fieldsⒶalteration in the MS; and there was themⒶalteration in the MS kind of faintⒶalteration in the MS dronings of bugs and fliesⒶemendation in the air that makes it seem so lonesome and like everybody’sⒶemendation dead and gone; and if a breeze fans along and quivers the leaves, it makes youⒶalteration in the MS feel mournful, because you feel like it’sⒶemendation spirits whispering—spirits that’s been deadⒶalteration in the MS ever so many years—and you always think they’reⒶemendation talking about you. As a general thing,Ⓐhistorical collation it makes a body wish he was dead, too, and done with it all.
Phelps’s was one of these little one-horse cotton plantationsⒺexplanatory note; and they all look alike. A rail fence roundⒶemendation a two-acre yard; a stile, made outⒶemendation of logs sawed off and up-ended, in steps, like barrels of a different length, to climb over the fence with, and for the women to stand on when they are going to jump onto a horse; some sickly grass-patches in the big yard, but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the nap rubbed off; big double log house for the white folks,Ⓐhistorical collation—hewed logs, with the chinks stopped upⒶemendation with mud or mortar, and these mud-stripesⒶalteration in the MS been whitewashedⒶemendation some time or anotherⒶemendation; round-log kitchen, with a big broad, open,Ⓐhistorical collation but roofed passage,Ⓐhistorical collation joining it to the house; logⒶalteration in the MS smoke-house back of the kitchen; three little log nigger-cabins in a row t’other sideⒶemendation the smoke-houseⒶhistorical collation; one little hut allⒶalteration in the MS by itself,Ⓐhistorical collation awayⒶalteration in the MS down against the back fence, and some out-buildingsⒶemendation down a piece the other side; ash-hopper, and big kettle to bileⒶemendation soap in, by the little hut; bench by the kitchen door, with bucket [begin page 277] of water and a gourd; hound asleep there, in the sun; more hounds asleep, roundⒶemendation about; about threeⒶalteration in the MS shade trees,Ⓐhistorical collation awayⒶemendation off in a cornerⒶalteration in the MS; some currant bushes and gooseberry bushes in one place by the fence; outside ofⒶemendation the fence,Ⓐhistorical collation a garden and aⒶemendation watermelonⒶhistorical collation patch; thenⒶemendation the cottonⒶalteration in the MS fields beginsⒶalteration in the MS; and after the fields, the woods.
IⒶemendation went around and clumb over the back stile by the ash-hopperⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐemendation, and started for the kitchen. When I got a little waysⒶalteration in the MS, I heard the dim hum of a spinning wheelⒶhistorical collation wailing along upⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐemendation and sinking along down again:Ⓐhistorical collation and then I knowed for certainⒶemendation I wished I was dead—for that is the lonesomestⒶalteration in the MS sound in the whole worldⒺexplanatory note.
I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting to ProvidenceⒶemendation Ⓐalteration in the MS to put the right words in my mouth when the time come; for I’dⒶemendation noticed that ProvidenceⒶemendation always did put the right words in my mouth, if I left it alone.Ⓐalteration in the MS
When I got half wayⒶhistorical collation, first one hound and then another got up and went for me, and of course I stopped,Ⓐhistorical collation and faced them, and kept still. And such another pow-wow as they made!Ⓐalteration in the MS inⒶhistorical collation a quarter of a minute I was a kind of a hub of a wheelⒶalteration in the MS, as you may say—spokesⒶalteration in the MS made out of dogs—circle of fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses stretched up towards me, a-barkingⒶhistorical collation and howling;Ⓐalteration in the MS and more a-comingⒶemendation; you could see them sailing over fences and around corners,Ⓐhistorical collation from everywheres.
A nigger woman come tearingⒶalteration in the MS out of the kitchen,Ⓐhistorical collation with a rolling-pin in her hand, singingⒶalteration in the MS out, “Begone! you Tige! you SpotⒶalteration in the MS! bedoneⒶtextual note Ⓐhistorical collation, sah!” and she fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent him howling, and then the rest followed; and the nextⒶalteration in the MS second, half of them come back, wagging their tails around me and making friends with me. There ain’t no harm in a hound, nohow.
And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys, without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung onto their mother’s gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way they always do. And here comes the white woman runningⒶalteration in the MS from the house, about forty-five or fiftyⒶalteration in the MS year old, bareheadedⒶemendation, and her spinning-stickⒶemendation in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same way the little niggers was doing.Ⓐalteration in the MS She was smilingⒶalteration in the MS all over so she could hardly stand—and says:
“It’s you, at lastⒶemendation!—ain’t it?”
[begin page 278] I out with a “Yes’m,” before I thought.
She grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped meⒶalteration in the MS by both hands,Ⓐhistorical collation and shook and shook;Ⓐalteration in the MS and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; and she couldn’t seem to hug andⒶalteration in the MS shake enough, and kept saying, “You don’t look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would, but law sakes, I don’t care for that, I’m so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem like I could eat you up! ChildernⒶemendation, it’s your cousin Tom!—tell him howdy.”
ButⒶalteration in the MS they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:
“Lize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast, right away—or did you get your breakfast on the boat?”
I said I hadⒶemendation got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got there, she set me down in a split-bottomedⒶemendation chair, and set herself down on a little low stool in front of me, holdingⒶalteration in the MS both of my hands, and says:
“Now I can have a good look at you; and laws-a-me, I’veⒶalteration in the MS been [begin page 279] hungry for it a many and a many a time, all these long years,Ⓐalteration in the MS and it’s come at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and moreⒶalteration in the MS. What’s kep’Ⓐemendation you?—boat get aground?”
“Yes’m—she—Ⓐhistorical collation”
“Don’t say yes’m—say auntⒶemendation Sally. Where’d she get aground?”
I didn’t rightly know what to say, because I didn’t know whether the boat would be coming up the river,Ⓐhistorical collation Ⓐalteration in the MS or down.Ⓐalteration in the MS But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct saidⒶalteration in the MS she would be coming up—from down towardsⒶalteration in the MS Orleans. That didn’t help me much, though; for I didn’t know the names of bars down that way. I see I’d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on—or—ⒶemendationNow I struck an idea, and fetched it out:
“It warn’t the grounding—that didn’t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.”
“Good gracious! anybody hurt?”
“No’m. Killed a nigger.”
“Well, it’s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas, your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally RookⒶhistorical collation Ⓔexplanatory note, and she blowed out a cylinder-headⒶemendation and crippled a man. And I think he died,Ⓐhistorical collation afterwards. He was a BabtistⒶalteration in the MS. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember, now,Ⓐhistorical collation he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn’t save him. Yes, it was mortification—that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle’s been up to the townⒶemendation every day to fetch you. And he’s gone again, not more’n an hour ago; he’ll be back any minute, now. You must a met him on the road, didn’t you?—oldish man, with a—Ⓐhistorical collation”Ⓐalteration in the MS
“No, I didn’t see nobodyⒶemendation, auntⒶhistorical collation Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggageⒶalteration in the MS on the wharfboatⒶhistorical collation and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.”
“Who’d you give the baggageⒶalteration in the MS to?”
“Nobody.”
“Why, child, it’ll be stole!”
“Not where I hid it I reckon it won’t,” I saysⒶemendation.
“How’d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?”
[begin page 280] It was kinder thin ice, but I says:
“The captain see me standing around, and toldⒶalteration in the MS me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers’ lunch, and give me all I wanted.”
I was getting so uneasy I couldn’t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side, and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn’t get no show,Ⓐalteration in the MS Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back;Ⓐhistorical collation because she says:
“But here we’re a running on,Ⓐhistorical collation this way, and you hain’t told me a word about Sis, nor any of them. Now I’ll rest my worksⒶalteration in the MS a little, and you start-upⒶhistorical collation yourn;Ⓐalteration in the MS just tell me everything—tell me all about ’mⒶemendation all—every one of ’mⒶemendation; and how they are, and what they’re doing, and what they told you to tell me; and every last thing you can think of.”
Well, I see I was up a stump—and up it good. ProvidenceⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐemendation had stood by me this furⒶemendation, all right, but I was hard and tight aground, now. I see it warn’t a bit of use to try to go ahead—I’d got to throw up my hand. So I says to myself, here’s anotherⒶemendation place where I got to resk the truth. I opened my mouth to begin; but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind the bed, and says:
“Here he comesⒶalteration in the MS! StickⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐhistorical collation your head down lower—there, that’ll do; you can’t be seen, now. Don’t you let on you’re here.Ⓐemendation I’ll play a joke on him. ChildernⒶemendation, don’t you say a word.”Ⓐalteration in the MS
I see I was in a fix, now. But it warn’t no use to worry; there warn’t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.
I had just one little glimpse of the old gentlemanⒶemendation when he come in,Ⓐalteration in the MS—Ⓐhistorical collation then the bed hid him.Ⓐalteration in the MS Mrs. Phelps she jumps for himⒶalteration in the MS and says:
“Has he come?”
“No,” says her husband.
“Good-ness gracious!” she says, “what in the world can haveⒶemendation become ofⒶalteration in the MS him?”
“I can’t imagine,” says the old gentleman; “and I must say, it makes me dreadful uneasy.”
“Uneasy!” she says, “I’m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you’ve missed him along the road. I know it’s so—something tells me so.”
[begin page 281] “Why Sally,Ⓐalteration in the MS IⒶemendation couldn’t miss him along the road—you know that.”
“But oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He mustⒶalteration in the MS a come! You mustⒶemendation a missed him. He—Ⓐhistorical collation”
“Oh, don’t distress me any more’n I’m already distressed. I don’t know what in the world to make of it. I’m at my wit’s end, and I don’t mind acknowledging’tⒶalteration in the MS I’m right down scared. But there’s no hope that he’s come; for he couldn’t come and meⒶalteration in the MS miss him.Ⓐalteration in the MS SallyⒶhistorical collation it’s terrible—justⒶemendation terrible—something’s happened to the boat, sureⒶalteration in the MS!”
“Why, SilasⒶalteration in the MS! Look yonder!—up the road!—ain’t that somebody coming?”
He sprungⒶalteration in the MS to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick, at the foot of the bed, and give me a pull, and out I come; and when heⒶalteration in the MS turned back from the window, there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongsideⒶemendation. The old gentleman stared, and says:Ⓐalteration in the MS
“Why, who’s that?”
“Who do you reckon ’tⒶemendation is?”
Ⓔexplanatory note
[begin page 282] “I hain’t no idea. Who is it?”
“It’s Tom Sawyer!”
By jings, I most slumped throughⒶhistorical collation the floor. But there warn’t no time to swap knives:Ⓐhistorical collation the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; andⒶalteration in the MS all the time, how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry;Ⓐalteration in the MS and then how they both didⒶalteration in the MS fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.Ⓐalteration in the MS Ⓐalteration in the MS
But if they was joyful, it warn’t nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze to me for twoⒶalteration in the MS hours; and at last when my chinⒶalteration in the MS was so tired it couldn’t hardly go,Ⓐalteration in the MS any more, I had told them more about my family—I mean the Sawyer family—than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder headⒶhistorical collation at the mouth of White riverⒶhistorical collation Ⓔexplanatory note and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all rightⒶalteration in the MS, and worked first-rateⒶemendation; because they didn’t know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I’d a called it a bolt-head it would a done just as well.
Now I was feeling prettyⒶalteration in the MS comfortable all down one side, and prettyⒶalteration in the MS uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and comfortable; and it staidⒶhistorical collation easy and comfortable till by and byⒶhistorical collation I hear a steamboat coughing along down the river—then I says to myself, spose TomⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐemendation Sawyer come down on that boat?—and spose heⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐemendation stepsⒶalteration in the MS in here, any minute, and singsⒶalteration in the MS out my name before I can throwⒶalteration in the MS him a wink to keep quiet?Ⓐalteration in the MS Well, I couldn’tⒶalteration in the MS have it that way—it wouldn’t do,Ⓐhistorical collation at all. I must go up the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would goⒶalteration in the MS up to the townⒶemendation and fetch down my baggage. The old gentlemanⒶalteration in the MS was for going along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and I druther he wouldn’t take no trouble about me.
Phelps’s was one of these little one-horse cotton plantations] Mark Twain explained in an autobiographical dictation that the model for the Phelps farm was his uncle John Quarles’s farm near Florida, Missouri:
My uncle, John A. Quarles, was a farmer, & his place was out in the country four miles from Florida. . . . I have never consciously used him or his wife in a book, but his farm has come very handy to me in literature, once or twice. In [begin page 445] “Huck Finn” & in “Tom Sawyer Detective” I moved it down to Arkansas. It was all of six hundred miles, but it was no trouble. . . . The house was a double log one, with a spacious floor (roofed in) connecting it with the kitchen. . . .
The farm-house stood in the middle of a very large yard, & the yard was fenced on three sides with rails & on the rear side with high palings; against these stood the smoke-house. . . . The front yard was entered over a stile, made of sawed-off logs of graduated heights. . . .
Down a piece, abreast the house, stood a little log cabin against the rail fence. (SLC 1897–98, 36–42)
hum of a spinning-wheel . . . lonesomest sound in the whole world] In his description of the Quarles farm in his autobiography, Clemens recalled the family room of the house, which contained a “spinning-wheel . . . whose rising & falling wail, heard from a distance, was the mournfulest of all sounds to me, & made me homesick & low-spirited, & filled my atmosphere with the wandering spirits of the dead” (SLC 1897–98, 49–50). Henry Nash Smith noted that Mark Twain used his memory of the farm and the sound of the spinning wheel to even more telling effect in his fictionalized account of his brief but traumatic experience as a Confederate militiaman during the Civil War:
We staid several days at Mason’s; and after all these years the memory of the dullness, the stillness and lifelessness of that slumberous farm-house still oppresses my spirit as with a sense of the presence of death and mourning. There was nothing to do, nothing to think about; there was no interest in life. The male part of the household were away in the fields all day, the women were busy and out of our sight; there was no sound but the plaintive wailing of a spinning-wheel, forever moaning out from some distant room,—the most lonesome sound in nature, a sound steeped and sodden with homesickness and the emptiness of life. (SLC 1885f, 201; Henry Nash Smith 1962, 130–32)