Laws knows I wanted to go bad enough to see about
Tom, and was all intending to go; but after that I
wouldn’t a went, not for kingdoms.
But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so
I slept very restless. And twice I went down
the rod away in the night, and slipped around front,
and see her setting there by her candle in the window
with her eyes towards the road and the tears in them;
and I wished I could do something for her, but I couldn’t,
only to swear that I wouldn’t never do nothing
to grieve her any more. And the third time I
waked up at dawn, and slid down, and she was there
yet, and her candle was most out, and her old gray
head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep.
The old man was uptown again before breakfast,
but couldn’t get no track of Tom; and both of
them set at the table thinking, and not saying nothing,
and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold,
and not eating anything. And by and by the old
man says:
“Did I give you the letter?”
“What letter?”
“The one I got yesterday out of the post-office.”
“No, you didn’t give me no letter.”
“Well, I must a forgot it.”
So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres
where he had laid it down, and fetched it, and give
it to her. She says:
“Why, it’s from St. Petersburg—it’s
from Sis.”
I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn’t
stir. But before she could break it open she
dropped it and run—for she see something.
And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress; and
that old doctor; and Jim, in her calico dress,
with his hands tied behind him; and a lot of people.
I hid the letter behind the first thing that come
handy, and rushed. She flung herself at Tom,
crying, and says:
“Oh, he’s dead, he’s dead, I know
he’s dead!”
And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered
something or other, which showed he warn’t in
his right mind; then she flung up her hands, and says:
“He’s alive, thank God! And that’s
enough!” and she snatched a kiss of him, and
flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering
orders right and left at the niggers and everybody
else, as fast as her tongue could go, every jump of
the way.
I followed the men to see what they was going to do
with Jim; and the old doctor and Uncle Silas followed
after Tom into the house. The men was very huffy,
and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example
to all the other niggers around there, so they wouldn’t
be trying to run away like Jim done, and making such
a raft of trouble, and keeping a whole family scared
most to death for days and nights. But the others
said, don’t do it, it wouldn’t answer
at all; he ain’t our nigger, and his owner would
turn up and make us pay for him, sure. So that
cooled them down a little, because the people that’s
always the most anxious for to hang a nigger that
hain’t done just right is always the very ones
that ain’t the most anxious to pay for him when
they’ve got their satisfaction out of him.
