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Updated: June 23, 2025
Rufe was disposed to further investigate the appliances of the tanyard left defenseless at his mercy, but at last Birt prevailed on him to go home and play with Tennessee, and was glad enough to see his tow-head, with his old hat perched precariously on it, bobbing up and down among the low bushes, as he wended his way along the path through the woods.
He sits on the gable-roof of the Parthenon, and views the Athenians as ants, while they are lions, with their claws pared and their teeth drawn. We, Anytos, born down there amid the skins of the tanyard and dog's-dung, we understand our perspiring brothers we know them by the smell, so to speak.
Then he asked suddenly, "An' whar war Rufe, an' Pete, an' Joe, ez YE hed ter go ter pickin' up of chips an' sech off'n the groun'?" He turned toward the group of small boys. "Air you-uns all disabled somehows, ez ye can't pick up chips an' bresh an' sech?" he said. "An' ef ye air, whyn't ye go ter the tanyard arter me?"
The animal seemed to understand that something was amiss, and now and then turned his head interrogatively. Somehow Birt was glad to feel that he left at least one friend in the tanyard, albeit the humblest, for he had always treated the beast with kindness, and he was sure the mule would miss him.
"Well, hain't he got a father?" says Tom Sawyer. "Yes, he's got a father, but you can't never find him these days. He used to lay drunk with the hogs in the tanyard, but he hain't been seen in these parts for a year or more."
"Ye tole TIM," Nate said shamelessly, "an' ez ter when 'twar yestiddy evenin' at the tanyard. Didn't he, Tim?" And he whirled around to his younger brother for confirmation of this audacious and deliberate falsehood. The abject Tim poor tool! frightened and cowering, nodded to admit it. "Gimme the grant, Birt," he faltered, helplessly. "I oughtn't ter hev furgot it."
The accident that gave him a Russian mother was his main qualification for the post he now held that of representative of a firm of leather manufacturers in the Russian town of Tambov. He spoke Russian, he knew leather, and he could ignore the smells of a tanyard; these facts entitled him to a livelihood.
I war aimin' ter larrup Birt fur his sass, but I stopped ter hang up a skin ez I hed knocked down. It never tuk me long, much, but when I went out, thar warn't nobody ter be seen in the tanyard." He paused to place one foot upon the wooden horse, and he leaned forward with a reflective expression, his elbow on his knee, and his hand holding his bearded chin. The afternoon was waning.
Did the time seem over-long, the way unendurably lonely and toilsome? He had only to close his eyes to remember to remember. And so the years had passed. It was the noon spell on a day in late October, and Constans sat on the river end of the long wooden pier at the tanyard eating his luncheon of bread and bacon scraps.
"Birt can't go a-diggin' no-ways, this evenin'," put in the officious Rufe, who stood, according to his wont, listening with his mouth and eyes wide open, "'kase ez I kem home by the tanyard Jube Perkins hollered ter me ter tell Birt ter come thar right quick. I furgot it till this minit," he added, with a shade of embarrassment that might pass for apology. Birt felt a prophetic thrill.
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