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Updated: June 4, 2025
They jest come along a-yowlin', an' a-shootin' off'n their guns an' things, same as they allus do when they's on the war-path. Scalps, that's wot they's after. Scalps, no more an' no less. An' to think o' me at my time o' life a-fallin' a prey to Injuns, as you might say. Oh, if on'y my pore George D. Ransford was alive! He'd 'a' give 'em scalps.
In a word, everything that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every harassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg. Tom hailed the romantic outcast: "Hello, Huckleberry!" "Hello yourself, and see how you like it." "What's that you got?" "Dead cat." "Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?" "Bought him off'n a boy." "What did you give?"
They caught the old man in the midriff.... I heard a sliding about and swearing ... the next moment he was in a heap, on the ground ... on the other side of the waggon. "What th' hell did ye do that for?" I looked innocent. "Do what?" "soak me in the guts with three bundles to onct an' knock me off'n the top of the load?"
He started down from above on jest one string of web, seemingly spinning part of it out of himself as he come, the way they do. I couldn't keep my eyes off'n him. "Murder," says the doctor, "is a thing." "It is a WORD," says the other man, "FOR a thing. For a thing which sometimes seems necessary. Lynching, war, execution, murder they are all words for different ways of wiping out human life.
"Yes, yes; but run along, bub. I mought fall off'n this hyar place, I'm gittin' stiff sittin' still so long, or the wind mought blow me off. The wind is blowin' toler'ble brief." "Gobbler or hen?" asked George Birt eagerly. "It air a hen," said Ethan. "But look-a-hyar, George, I'm a-waitin' on ye, an' ef I'd fall off'n this hyar place, I'd be ez dead ez a door-nail in a minute."
And take that string off'n that cat!" he added harshly. "Dell! Come and look after this kid! Doggone it, a man can't talk five minutes " The Kid giggled irrepressibly. "That's one on you, old man. You saw Doctor Dell go away a long time ago. Think she can hear yuh when she's away up on the bench?" "You go on off and play!" commanded the Old Man.
And he follows 'im, and we all shake hands just as if we was meeting in the Row, except that most of our hands was a bit grimy and sticky-like with blood and grease off'n the cartridges." "And," said Marie, in an indirectly interrogative way, as she helped him to a piece of sweet potato, "you were glad to see them, Mr. Oscard and Mr. Durnovo yes?"
Dey wa'n't much er de ham lef' by dat time, fer de sun had melt all de fat, en de lean had all swivel' up, so dey wa'n't but th'ee er fo' poun's lef'. "W'en de ham had be'n tuk off'n Dave, folks kinder stopped talkin' 'bout 'im so much. But de ham had be'n on his neck so long dat Dave had sorter got use' ter it.
Islands, they're discovered and then you own them, that's the way it is. Findings is keepings with islands." "Is that so?" said old Trimmer, half-interested and examining what might be called the underpinning of the island with keen preoccupation. "Well, you'll just clear off'n this here property double quick. Pile in here and I'll set you ashore."
Jim Pink let his pebble fall and lowered the fore legs of his chair softly to the ground. "Now, look heah, Persimmon, you don' want to be draggin' no foreign disco'se into yo' talk heah befo' Mr. Siner an' Parson Ranson." The Persimmon rose deliberately. "All I want to say is, I drapped off'n de matrimonial tree three times a'ready, Jim Pink, an' I think I feels somebody shakin' de limb ag'in."
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