ood to us
and showed us the runaway nigger. But you got to be mighty careful.
When we come around, you turn your back; and then whatever we've put
in the pan, don't you let on you see it at all. And don't you look
when Jim unloads the pan--something might happen, I don't know what.
And above all, don't you _handle_ the witch-things."

"_Hannel_ 'm, Mars Sid? What _is_ you a-talkin' 'bout? I wouldn' lay
de weight er my finger on um, not f'r ten hund'd thous'n billion
dollars, I wouldn't."

CHAPTER XXXVII

_That_ was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the
rubbage-pile in the back yard, where they keep the old boots, and
rags, and pieces of bottles, and wore-out tin things, and all such
truck, and scratched around and found an old tin washpan, and stopped
up the holes as well as we could, to bake the pie in, and took it down
cellar and stole it full of flour and started for breakfast, and found
a couple of shingle-nails that Tom said would be handy for a prisoner
to scrabble his name and sorrows on the dungeon walls with, and
dropped one of them in Aunt Sally's apron pocket which was hanging on
a chair, and t'other we stuck in the band of Uncle Silas's hat, which
was on the bureau, because we heard the children say their pa and ma
was going to the runaway nigger's house this morning, and then went to
breakfast, and Tom dropped the pewter spoon in Uncle Silas's coat
pocket, and Aunt Sally wasn't come yet, so we had to wait a little
while.

And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn't hardly
wait for the blessing; and then she went to sluicing out coffee with
one hand and cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with
the other, and says:

"I've hunted high and I've hunted low, and it does beat all what _has_
become of your other shirt."

My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hard
piece of corn-crust started down my throat after it and got met on the
road with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of the
children in the eye and curled him up like a fishing-worm, and let a
cry out of him the size of a war-whoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue
around the gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of
things for about a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would
'a' sold out for half price if there was a bidder. But after that we
was all right again--it was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us
so kind of cold. Uncl