s
big as a man, being six foot two inches long, and weighed over two
hundred pounds. We couldn't handle him, of course; he would 'a' flung
us into Illinois. We just set there and watched him rip and tear
around till he drownded. We found a brass button in his stomach and a
round ball, and lots of rubbage. We split the ball open with the
hatchet, and there was a spool in it. Jim said he'd had it there a
long time, to coat it over so and make a ball of it. It was as big a
fish as was ever catched in the Mississippi, I reckon. Jim said he
hadn't ever seen a bigger one. He would 'a' been worth a good deal
over at the village. They peddle out such a fish as that by the pound
in the market-house there; everybody buys some of him; his meat's as
white as snow and makes a good fry.

Next morning I said it was getting slow and dull, and I wanted to get
a stirring-up some way. I said I reckoned I would slip over the river
and find out what was going on. Jim liked that notion; but he said I
must go in the dark and look sharp. Then he studied it over and said,
couldn't I put on some of them old things and dress up like a girl?
That was a good notion, too. So we shortened up one of the calico
gowns, and I turned up my trouser-legs to my knees and got into it.
Jim hitched it behind with the hooks, and it was a fair fit. I put on
the sun-bonnet and tied it under my chin, and then for a body to look
in and see my face was like looking down a joint of stove-pipe. Jim
said nobody would know me, even in the daytime, hardly. I practised
around all day to get the hang of the things, and by and by I could do
pretty well in them, only Jim said I didn't walk like a girl; and he
said I must quit pulling up my gown to get at my britches-pocket. I
took notice, and done better.

I started up the Illinois shore in the canoe just after dark.

I started across to the town from a little below the ferry-landing,
and the drift of the current fetched me in at the bottom of the town.
I tied up and started along the bank. There was a light burning in a
little shanty that hadn't been lived in for a long time, and I
wondered who had took up quarters there. I slipped up and peeped in at
the window. There was a woman about forty year old in there knitting
by a candle that was on a pine table. I didn't know her face; she was
a stranger, for you couldn't start a face in that town that I didn't
know. Now this was lucky, because I was weakening; I was getting
a