nking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was
low and homesick; because he hadn't ever been away from home before in
his life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as
white folks does for their'n. It don't seem natural, but I reckon it's
so. He was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged
I was asleep, and saying, "Po' little 'Lizabeth! po' little Johnny!
it's mighty hard; I spec' I ain't ever gwyne to see you no mo', no
mo'!" He was a mighty good nigger, Jim was.

But this time I somehow got to talking to him about his wife and young
ones; and by and by he says:

"What makes me feel so bad dis time 'uz bekase I hear sumpn over
yonder on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er
de time I treat my little 'Lizabeth so ornery. She warn't on'y 'bout
fo' year ole, en she tuck de sk'yarlet fever, en had a powful rough
spell; but she got well, en one day she was a-stannin' aroun', en I
says to her, I says:

"'Shet de do'.'

"She never done it; jis' stood dah, kiner smilin' up at me. It make me
mad; en I says ag'in, mighty loud, I says:

"'Doan' you hear me? Shet de do'!"

"She jis stood de same way, kiner smilin' up. I was a-bilin'! I says:

"'I lay I _make_ you mine!'

"En wid dat I fetch' her a slap side de head dat sont her a-sprawlin'.
Den I went into de yuther room, en 'uz gone 'bout ten minutes; en when
I come back dah was dat do' a-stannin' open _yit_, en dat chile
stannin' mos' right in it, a-lookin' down and mournin', en de tears
runnin' down. My, but I _wuz_ mad! I was a-gwyne for de chile, but
jis' den--it was a do' dat open innerds--jis' den, 'long come de wind
en slam it to, behine de chile, ker-_blam!_--en my lan', de chile
never move'! My breff mos' hop outer me; en I feel so--so--I doan'
know _how_ I feel. I crope out, all a-tremblin', en crope aroun' en
open de do' easy en slow, en poke my head in behine de chile, sof' en
still, en all uv a sudden I says _pow!_ jis' as loud as I could yell.
She _never budge!_ Oh, Huck, I bust out a-cryin' en grab her up in my
arms, en say, 'Oh, de po' little thing! De Lord God Amighty fogive po'
ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to fogive hisself as long's he live!' Oh,
she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en dumb--en I'd ben
a-treat'n her so!"

CHAPTER XXIV

Next day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow towhead out
in the middle, where there was a village on each sid