I had the road all to myself, and I fairly flew—leastways,
I had it all to myself except the solid dark, and
the now-and-then glares, and the buzzing of the rain,
and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of
the thunder; and sure as you are born I did clip it
along!
When I struck the town I see there warn’t nobody
out in the storm, so I never hunted for no back streets,
but humped it straight through the main one; and when
I begun to get towards our house I aimed my eye and
set it. No light there; the house all dark—which
made me feel sorry and disappointed, I didn’t
know why. But at last, just as I was sailing
by, flash comes the light in Mary Jane’s
window! and my heart swelled up sudden, like to bust;
and the same second the house and all was behind me
in the dark, and wasn’t ever going to be before
me no more in this world. She was the best
girl I ever see, and had the most sand.
The minute I was far enough above the town to see
I could make the towhead, I begun to look sharp for
a boat to borrow, and the first time the lightning
showed me one that wasn’t chained I snatched
it and shoved. It was a canoe, and warn’t
fastened with nothing but a rope. The towhead
was a rattling big distance off, away out there in
the middle of the river, but I didn’t lose no
time; and when I struck the raft at last I was so
fagged I would a just laid down to blow and gasp if
I could afforded it. But I didn’t.
As I sprung aboard I sung out:
“Out with you, Jim, and set her loose!
Glory be to goodness, we’re shut of them!”
Jim lit out, and was a-coming for me with both arms
spread, he was so full of joy; but when I glimpsed
him in the lightning my heart shot up in my mouth
and I went overboard backwards; for I forgot he was
old King Lear and a drownded A-rab all in one, and
it most scared the livers and lights out of me.
But Jim fished me out, and was going to hug me and
bless me, and so on, he was so glad I was back and
we was shut of the king and the duke, but I says:
“Not now; have it for breakfast, have it for
breakfast! Cut loose and let her slide!”
So in two seconds away we went a-sliding down the
river, and it did seem so good to be free again
and all by ourselves on the big river, and nobody
to bother us. I had to skip around a bit, and
jump up and crack my heels a few times—I
couldn’t help it; but about the third crack I
noticed a sound that I knowed mighty well, and held
my breath and listened and waited; and sure enough,
when the next flash busted out over the water, here
they come!—and just a-laying to their oars
and making their skiff hum! It was the king
and the duke.
So I wilted right down on to the planks then, and
give up; and it was all I could do to keep from crying.
When they got aboard the king went for me, and
shook me by the collar, and says:
