by Mark Twain
CHAPTER XXXIX.
IN the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rat-trap andfetched it down, and unstopped the best rat-hole, and in about an hourwe had fifteen of the bulliest kind of ones; and then we took it and putit in a safe place under Aunt Sally's bed. ?But while we was gone forspiders little Thomas Franklin Benjamin Jefferson Elexander Phelps foundit there, and opened the door of it to see if the rats would come out,and they did; and Aunt Sally she come in, and when we got back she wasa-standing on top of the bed raising Cain, and the rats was doing whatthey could to keep off the dull times for her. ?So she took and dustedus both with the hickry, and we was as much as two hours catchinganother fifteen or sixteen, drat that meddlesome cub, and they warn'tthe likeliest, nuther, because the first haul was the pick of the flock.?I never see a likelier lot of rats than what that first haul was.
We got a splendid stock of sorted spiders, and bugs, and frogs, andcaterpillars, and one thing or another; and we like to got a hornet'snest, but we didn't. ?The family was at home. ?We didn't give it rightup, but stayed with them as long as we could; because we allowed we'dtire them out or they'd got to tire us out, and they done it. ?Then wegot allycumpain and rubbed on the places, and was pretty near all rightagain, but couldn't set down convenient. ?And so we went for the snakes,and grabbed a couple of dozen garters and house-snakes, and put them ina bag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was supper-time, anda rattling good honest day's work: ?and hungry?--oh, no, I reckon not!?And there warn't a blessed snake up there when we went back--we didn'thalf tie the sack, and they worked out somehow, and left. ?But it didn'tmatter much, because they was still on the premises somewheres. ?Sowe judged we could get some of them again. ?No, there warn't no realscarcity of snakes about the house for a considerable spell. ?You'd seethem dripping from the rafters and places every now and then; and theygenerly landed in your plate, or down the back of your neck, and mostof the time where you didn't want them. ?Well, they was handsome andstriped, and there warn't no harm in a million of them; but that nevermade no difference to Aunt Sally; she despised snakes, be the breed whatthey might, and she couldn't stand them no way you could fix it; andevery time one of them flopped down on her, it didn't make no differencewhat she was doing, she would just lay that work down and light out. ?Inever see such a woman. ?And you could hear her whoop to Jericho. ?Youcouldn't get her to take a-holt of one of them with the tongs. ?And ifshe turned over and found one in bed she would scramble out and lift ahowl that you would think the house was afire. ?She disturbed the oldman so that he said he could most wish there hadn't ever been no snakescreated. ?Why, after every last snake had been gone clear out of thehouse for as much as a week Aunt Sally warn't over it yet; she warn'tnear over it; when she was setting thinking about something you couldtouch her on the back of her neck with a feather and she would jumpright out of her stockings. ?It was very curious. ?But Tom said allwomen was just so. ?He said they was made that way for some reason orother.
We got a licking every time one of our snakes come in her way, and sheallowed these lickings warn't nothing to what she would do if we everloaded up the place again with them. ?I didn't mind the lickings,because they didn't amount to nothing; but I minded the trouble wehad to lay in another lot. ?But we got them laid in, and all the otherthings; and you never see a cabin as blithesome as Jim's was when they'dall swarm out for music and go for him. ?Jim didn't like the spiders,and the spiders didn't like Jim; and so they'd lay for him, and make itmighty warm for him. ?And he said that between the rats and the snakesand the grindstone there warn't no room in bed for him, skasely; andwhen there was, a body couldn't sleep, it was so lively, and it wasalways lively, he said, because _they_ never all slept at one time, buttook turn about, so when the snakes was asleep the rats was on deck, andwhen the rats turned in the snakes come on watch, so he always had onegang under him, in his way, and t'other gang having a circus over him,and if he got up to hunt a new place the spiders would take a chance athim as he crossed over. He said if he ever got out this time he wouldn'tever be a prisoner again, not for a salary.
Well, by the end of three weeks everything was in pretty good shape.?The shirt was sent in early, in a pie, and every time a rat bit Jim hewould get up and write a little in his journal whilst the ink was fresh;the pens was made, the inscriptions and so on was all carved on thegrindstone; the bed-leg was sawed in two, and we had et up the sawdust,and it give us a most amazing stomach-ache. ?We reckoned we was allgoing to die, but didn't. ?It was the most undigestible sawdust I eversee; and Tom said the same.
But as I was saying, we'd got all the work done now, at last; and we wasall pretty much fagged out, too, but mainly Jim. ?The old man had wrotea couple of times to the plantation below Orleans to come and get theirrunaway nigger, but hadn't got no answer, because there warn't no suchplantation; so he allowed he would advertise Jim in the St. Louis andNew Orleans papers; and when he mentioned the St. Louis ones it give methe cold shivers, and I see we hadn't no time to lose. So Tom said, nowfor the nonnamous letters.
"What's them?" ?I says.
"Warnings to the people that something is up. ?Sometimes it's done oneway, sometimes another. ?But there's always somebody spying around thatgives notice to the governor of the castle. ?When Louis XVI. was goingto light out of the Tooleries, a servant-girl done it. ?It's a very goodway, and so is the nonnamous letters. ?We'll use them both. ?And it'susual for the prisoner's mother to change clothes with him, and shestays in, and he slides out in her clothes. ?We'll do that, too."
"But looky here, Tom, what do we want to _warn_ anybody for thatsomething's up? ?Let them find it out for themselves--it's theirlookout."
"Yes, I know; but you can't depend on them. ?It's the way they've actedfrom the very start--left us to do _everything_. ?They're so confidingand mullet-headed they don't take notice of nothing at all. ?So if wedon't _give_ them notice there won't be nobody nor nothing to interferewith us, and so after all our hard work and trouble this escape 'll gooff perfectly flat; won't amount to nothing--won't be nothing _to_ it."
"Well, as for me, Tom, that's the way I'd like."
"Shucks!" he says, and looked disgusted. ?So I says:
"But I ain't going to make no complaint. ?Any way that suits you suitsme. What you going to do about the servant-girl?"
"You'll be her. ?You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook thatyaller girl's frock."
"Why, Tom, that 'll make trouble next morning; because, of course, sheprob'bly hain't got any but that one."
"I know; but you don't want it but fifteen minutes, to carry thenonnamous letter and shove it under the front door."
"All right, then, I'll do it; but I could carry it just as handy in myown togs."
"You wouldn't look like a servant-girl _then_, would you?"
"No, but there won't be nobody to see what I look like, _anyway_."
"That ain't got nothing to do with it. ?The thing for us to do is justto do our _duty_, and not worry about whether anybody _sees_ us do it ornot. Hain't you got no principle at all?"
"All right, I ain't saying nothing; I'm the servant-girl. ?Who's Jim'smother?"
"I'm his mother. ?I'll hook a gown from Aunt Sally."
"Well, then, you'll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves."
"Not much. ?I'll stuff Jim's clothes full of straw and lay it on his bedto represent his mother in disguise, and Jim 'll take the nigger woman'sgown off of me and wear it, and we'll all evade together. ?When aprisoner of style escapes it's called an evasion. ?It's always calledso when a king escapes, f'rinstance. ?And the same with a king's son;it don't make no difference whether he's a natural one or an unnaturalone."
So Tom he wrote the nonnamous letter, and I smouched the yaller wench'sfrock that night, and put it on, and shoved it under the front door, theway Tom told me to. ?It said:
Beware. ?Trouble is brewing. ?Keep a sharp lookout. _Unknown_ _Friend_.
Next night we stuck a picture, which Tom drawed in b
lood, of a skull andcrossbones on the front door; and next night another one of a coffin onthe back door. ?I never see a family in such a sweat. ?They couldn't abeen worse scared if the place had a been full of ghosts laying for thembehind everything and under the beds and shivering through the air. ?Ifa door banged, Aunt Sally she jumped and said "ouch!" if anything fell,she jumped and said "ouch!" if you happened to touch her, when shewarn't noticing, she done the same; she couldn't face noway and besatisfied, because she allowed there was something behind her everytime--so she was always a-whirling around sudden, and saying "ouch," andbefore she'd got two-thirds around she'd whirl back again, and say itagain; and she was afraid to go to bed, but she dasn't set up. ?So thething was working very well, Tom said; he said he never see a thing workmore satisfactory. He said it showed it was done right.
So he said, now for the grand bulge! ?So the very next morning at thestreak of dawn we got another letter ready, and was wondering what webetter do with it, because we heard them say at supper they was goingto have a nigger on watch at both doors all night. ?Tom he went down thelightning-rod to spy around; and the nigger at the back door was asleep,and he stuck it in the back of his neck and come back. ?This lettersaid:
Don't betray me, I wish to be your friend. ?There is a desprate gang ofcutthroats from over in the Indian Territory going to steal your runawaynigger to-night, and they have been trying to scare you so as you willstay in the house and not bother them. ?I am one of the gang, but havegot religgion and wish to quit it and lead an honest life again, andwill betray the helish design. They will sneak down from northards,along the fence, at midnight exact, with a false key, and go in thenigger's cabin to get him. I am to be off a piece and blow a tin hornif I see any danger; but stead of that I will _baa_ like a sheep soon asthey get in and not blow at all; then whilst they are getting hischains loose, you slip there and lock them in, and can kill them at yourleasure. ?Don't do anything but just the way I am telling you, if you dothey will suspicion something and raise whoop-jamboreehoo. I do not wishany reward but to know I have done the right thing. _Unknown Friend._