I thought I’d seen stupid (pic attached) 📷

𝖱𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖠𝖫𝖤𝖣: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖲𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖳𝗋𝗎𝖾 𝖲𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖡𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖡𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇’𝗌 𝖲𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝖱𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝖦𝖺𝗌 𝖯𝗎𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌 – 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖢𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖲𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖲𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖠𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖠𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖺… [Main Logotype (Dark Green) | EMA]( Dear Reader, I’ve exposed some of the biggest fіnаnсіаl myths and manias of the last 25 years. I told my readers “Peak Oil” was a lie аll the way back in 2006. Remember the peak oil hysteria? The idea that oil production rаtеs would оnlу go down… 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟. A couple years later, I warned readers that the U.S. housing market was on the verge of triggering a stock market crash. In 2010, I described in 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟-𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 detail many events of the last decade or so – riots, government lockdowns, rampant inflation – in a 77-minute video presentation called “End of America”. You may have seen it online. It’s been viewed over 100 mіllіоn times. Until recently, I thought I’d seen the extent of humаn stupidity and graft. I didn’t think it was possible for policymakers and establishment elites to steal and mismanage more than they already had. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠… This is the tanker Iberica Knutsen arriving in Boston recently: [𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅]( This ship has delivered liquefied natural gas from Trinidad and Tobago four times so far this year. Liquefied natural gas, or LNG, is the main fuel for powering electrical grids and heating homes in the winter. Behind Russia, the United States has the most natural gas in the world. A huge portion of that is in the Marcellus Shale which is just a few hundred miles from Boston. So why is Boston paying to ship natural gas from places like Trinidad and Tobago? I’ve spent the past two years researching this story. What I’ve uncovered will astound you. Do yourself a favor. Before it’s taken offline (which could happen at any time), сhесk out this [shocking video](. I nаmе 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠in it. Sincerely, Porter Stansberry My convict looked at me, except that once. While we stood in the hut, he stood before the fire looking thoughtfully at it, or putting up his feet by turns upon the hob, and looking thoughtfully at them as if he pitied them for their recent adventures. Suddenly, he turned to the sergeant, and remarked,— I wish to say something respecting this escape. It may prevent some persons laying under suspicion alonger me. You can say what you like, returned the sergeant, standing coolly looking at him with his arms folded, but you have no c to say it . You’ll have enough to say about it, and hear about it, before it’s done with, you k. I k, but this is another pint, a sepa matter. A man can’t starve; at least I can’t. I took some wittles, up at the willage over yonder,—w the church stands a’most out on the marshes. You mean stole, said the sergeant. And I’ll tell you w from. From the blacksmith’s. Hoa! said the sergeant, staring at Joe. Hoa, Pip! said Joe, staring at me. It was some broken wittles—that’s what it was—and a dram of liquor, and a pie. Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith? asked the sergeant, confidentiy. My did, at the very moment when you came in. Don’t you k, Pip? So, said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and without the least glance at me,—so you’re the blacksmith, are you? Than I’m sorry to say, I’ve eat your pie. God ks you’re welcome to it,—so far as it was ever mine, returned Joe, with a saving remembrance of Mrs. Joe. We don’t k what you have done, but we wouldn’t have you starved to death for it, poor miserable fellow-creatur.—Would us, Pip? The something that I had noticed before, clicked in the man’s throat again, and he turned his back. The boat had returned, and his guard were ready, so we followed him to the landing-place made of rough stakes and stones, and saw him put into the boat, which was rowed by a crew of convicts like himself. No one seemed surprised to see him, or interested in seeing him, or glad to see him, or sorry to see him, or spoke a word, except that somebody in the boat growled as if to dogs, Give way, you! which was the signal for the dip of the oars. By the light of the torches, we saw the black Hulk lying out a little way from the mud of the shore, like a wicked Noah’s ark. Cribbed and barred and moored by massive rusty chains, the prison-ship seemed in my young eyes to be ironed like the prisoners. We saw the boat go alongside, and we saw him taken up the side and disappear. Then, the ends of the torches were flung hissing into the water, and went out, as if it were over with him. My state of mind the pilfering from which I had been so unexpectedly exoned did not impel me to frank disclosure; but I hope it had some dregs of good at the bottom of it. I do not rec that I felt any tenderness of conscience in reference to Mrs. Joe, when the fear of being found out was lifted me. But I loved Joe,—perhaps for no better reason in those early days than because the dear fellow let me love him,—and, as to him, my inner self was not so easily composed. It was much upon my mind (particularly when I first saw him looking about for his file) that I ought to tell Joe the whole truth. Yet I did not, and for the reason that I mistrusted that if I did, he would think me worse than I was. The fear of losing Joe’s confidence, and of thenceforth sitting in the chimney corner at night staring drearily at my forever lost companion and , tied up my tongue. I morbidly represented to myself that if Joe k it, I afterwards could see him at the fireside feeling his fair whisker, without thinking that he was meditating on it. That, if Joe k it, I afterwards could see him glance, however casuy, at yesterday’s meat or pudding when it came on to-day’s table, without thinking that he was debating whether I had been in the pantry. That, if Joe k it, and at any subsequent period of our joint domestic remarked that his beer was flat or thick, the conviction that he suspected tar in it, would bring a rush of blood to my face. In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I k to be right, as I had been too cowardly to doing what I k to be wrong. I had had no intercourse with the world at that time, and I imitated none of its many inhabitants who in this manner. Quite an untaught genius, I made the discovery of the line of for myself. As I was sleepy before we were far away from the prison-ship, Joe took me on his back again and carried me . He must have had a tiresome journey of it, for Mr. Wopsle, being knocked up, was in such a very bad temper that if the Church had been thrown , he would probably have excommunicated the whole expedition, beginning with Joe and myself. In his lay capacity, he persisted in sitting down in the damp to such an insane extent, that when his coat was taken to be dried at the kitchen fire, the circumstantial evidence on his trousers would have hanged him, if it had been a capital ence. By that time, I was staggering on the kitchen floor like a little drunkard, through having been ly set upon my feet, and through having been asleep, and through waking in the heat and lights and noise of tongues. As I came to myself (with the aid of a heavy thump between the shoulders, and the restorative exclamation Yah! Was t ever such a boy as this! from my sister,) I found Joe telling them about the convict’s confession, and the visitors suggesting different ways by which he had got into the pantry. Mr. Pumblechook made out, after carefully surveying the premises, that he had first got upon the roof of the forge, and had then got upon the roof of the house, and had then let himself down the kitchen chimney by a rope made of his bedding cut into strips; and as Mr. Pumblechook was very positive and drove his own chaise-cart—over everybody—it was agreed that it must be so. Mr. Wopsle, indeed, wildly cried out, No! with the feeble malice of a tired man; but, as he had no theory, and no coat on, he was unanimously set at naught,—not to mention his smoking hard behind, as he stood with his back to the kitchen fire to draw the damp out: which was not calculated to inspire confidence. This was I heard that night before my sister clutched me, as a slumberous ence to the company’s eyesight, and assisted me up to bed with such a strong hand that I seemed to have fifty boots on, and to be dangling them against the edges of the stairs. My state of mind, as I have described it, began before I was up in the morning, and lasted long after the subject had died out, and had ceased to be mentioned saving on exceptional occasions. P.S. In the video, about halfway through, I reveal a way you could make 10-50x returns on an American energy company that’s set to go up like a moonshot if the lights go out in Boston this winter… Don’t miss it: [СLІСK НЕRЕ]( We spread the blankets inside for a carpet, and eat our dinner in t. We put the other things handy at the back of the cavern. Pretty it darkened up, and begun to thunder and lighten; so the birds was right about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like fury, too, and I see the wind blow so. It was one of these regular summer storms. It would so dark that it looked blueblack outside, and lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees a little ways looked dim and spider-webby; and would come a blast of wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the pale under-side of the s; and then a ripper of a gust would follow along and set the branches to tossing their arms as if they was just wild; and next, when it was just about the bluest and blackest—fst! it was as bright as glory, and you’d have a little glimpse of tree-tops a-plunging about away yonder in the storm, hundreds of yards further than you could see before; dark as sin again in a second, and you’d hear the thunder let go with an awful crash, and then go rumbling, grumbling, tumbling, down the sky towards the under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels down stairs— w it’s long stairs and they bounce a good , you k. Jim, this is nice, I says. I wouldn’t want to be else but . Pass me along another hunk of fish and some hot corn-bread. Well, you wouldn’t a ben ‘f it hadn’t a ben for Jim. You’d a ben down dah in de woods widout any dinner, en gittn’ mos’ drownded, too; dat you would, honey. Chickens ks when it’s gwyne to rain, en so do de birds, chile. The river went on raising and raising for ten or twelve days, till at last it was over the s. The water was three or four foot deep on the island in the low places and on the Illinois bottom. On that side it was a good many miles wide, but on the Missouri side it was the same old distance across—a half a mile—because the Missouri shore was just a w of high bluffs. Daytimes we paddled over the island in the canoe, It was mighty cool and shady in the deep woods, even if the sun was blazing outside. We went winding in and out amongst the trees, and sometimes the vines hung so thick we had to back away and go some other way. Well, on every old broken-down tree you could see rabbits and snakes and such things; and when the island had been overflowed a day or two they got so tame, on account of being hungry, that you could paddle right up and put your hand on them if you wanted to; but not the snakes and turtles—they would slide in the water. The ridge our cavern was in was full of them. We could a had pets enough if we’d wanted them. One night we catched a little section of a lumber raft—nice pine planks. It was twelve foot wide and about fifteen or sixteen foot long, and the top stood above water six or seven inches—a solid, level floor. We could see saw-logs go by in the daylight sometimes, but we let them go; we didn’t show ourselves in daylight. Another night when we was up at the head of the island, just before daylight, comes a frame-house down, on the west side. She was a two-story, and tilted over considerable. We paddled out and got aboard—clumb in at an upstairs window. But it was too dark to see yet, so we made the canoe and set in her to wait for daylight. The light begun to come before we got to the foot of the island. Then we looked in at the window. We could make out a bed, and a table, and two old chairs, and lots of things around about on the floor, and t was clothes hanging against the w. T was something laying on the floor in the far corner that looked like a man. So Jim says: Hello, you! But it didn’t budge. So I hollered again, and then Jim says: De man ain’t asleep—he’s d. You hold still—I’ll go en see. He went, and bent down and looked, and says: It’s a dead man. Yes, indeedy; naked, too. He’s ben shot in de back. I reck’n he’s ben dead two er three days. Come in, Huck, but doan’ look at his face—it’s too gashly. I didn’t look at him at . Jim throwed some old rags over him, but he needn’t done it; I didn’t want to see him. T was heaps of old greasy cards scattered around over the floor, and old whisky bottles, and a couple of masks made out of black cloth; and over the ws was the ignorantest kind of words and pictures made with charcoal. T was two old dirty calico dresses, and a sun-bonnet, and some women’s underclothes hanging against the w, and some men’s clothing, too. We put the lot into the canoe—it might come good. T was a boy’s old speckled straw hat on the floor; I took that, too. And t was a bottle that had had milk in it, and it had a rag per for a baby to suck. We would a took the bottle, but it was broke. T was a seedy old chest, and an old hair trunk with the hinges broke. They stood , but t warn’t nothing left in them that was any account. The way things was scattered about we reckoned the people left in a hurry, and warn’t fixed so as to carry most of their stuff. We got an old tin lantern, and a butcher-knife without any handle, and a bran- Barlow knife worth two bits in any store, and a lot of tow candles, and a tin candlestick, and a gourd, and a tin cup, and a ratty old bedquilt the bed, and a reticule with needles and pins and beeswax and buttons and thread and such truck in it, and a hatchet and some nails, and a fishline as thick as my little finger with some monstrous hooks on it, and a roll of buckskin, and a leather dog-collar, and a horseshoe, and some vials of that didn’t have no label on them; and just as we was leaving I found a tolerable good curry-comb, and Jim he found a ratty old fiddle-bow, and a wooden leg. The straps was broke of it, but, barring that, it was a good enough leg, though it was too long for me and not long enough for Jim, and we couldn’t find the other one, though we hunted around. And so, take it around, we made a good haul. When we was ready to shove we was a quarter of a mile below the island, and it was pretty broad day; so I made Jim lay down in the canoe and cover up with the quilt, because if he set up people could tell he was a nigger a good ways . I paddled over to the Illinois shore, and drifted down most a half a mile doing it. I crept up the dead water under the , and hadn’t no accidents and didn’t see nobody. We got safe. After break I wanted to talk about the dead man and guess out how he come to be killed, but Jim didn’t want to. He said it would fetch bad luck; and besides, he said, he might come and ha’nt us; he said a man that warn’t buried was more likely to go a-ha’nting around than one that was planted and comfortable. That sounded pretty reasonable, so I didn’t say no more; but I couldn’t keep from studying over it and wishing I ked who shot the man, and what they done it for. We rummaged the clothes we’d got, and found eight in silver sewed up in the lining of an old blanket overcoat. Jim said he reckoned the people in that house stole the coat, because if they’d a ked the was t they wouldn’t a left it. I said I reckoned they killed him, too; but Jim didn’t want to talk about that. I says: you think it’s bad luck; but what did you say when I fetched in the snake-skin that I found on the top of the ridge day before yesterday? You said it was the worst bad luck in the world to touch a snake-skin with my hands. Well, ’s your bad luck! We’ve raked in this truck and eight besides. I wish we could have some bad luck like this every day, Jim. you mind, honey, you mind. Don’t you git too peart. It’s a-comin’. Mind I tell you, it’s a-comin’. It did come, too. It was a Tuesday that we had that talk. Well, after dinner Friday we was laying around in the grass at the upper end of the ridge, and got out of tobacco. I went to the cavern to some, and found a rattlesnake in t. I killed him, and curled him up on He was barefooted, and the snake bit him right on the heel. That comes of my being such a fool as to not remember that wver you a dead snake its mate always comes t and curls around it. Jim told me to chop the snake’s head and throw it away, and then skin the body and roast a piece of it. I done it, and he eat it and said it would help cure him. He made me take the rattles and tie them around his wrist, too. He said that that would help. Then I slid out quiet and throwed the snakes clear away amongst the bushes; for I warn’t going to let Jim find out it was my fault, not if I could help it. Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was gone and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn’t ever take a-holt of a snake-skin again with my hands, that I see what had come of it. Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. And he said that handling a snake-skin was such awful bad luck that maybe we hadn’t got to the end of it yet. He said he druther see the moon over his left shoulder as much as a thousand times than take up a snake-skin in his hand. Well, I was ting to feel that way myself, though I’ve always reckoned that looking at the moon over your left shoulder is one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got drunk and fell of the shot-tower, and spread himself out so that he was just a kind of a layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways between two barn doors for a cin, and buried him so, so they say, but I didn’t see it. Pap told me. But anyway it come of looking at the moon that way, like a fool. Well, the days went along, and the river went down between its s again; and about the first thing we done was to bait one of the big hooks with a skinned rabbit and set it and catch a catfish that was as 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 t and watched him rip and tear around till he drownded. We found a brass button in his stomach and a round b, and lots of rubbage. We split the b with the hatchet, and t was a spool in it. Jim said he’d had it t a long time, to coat it over so and make a b 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 over at the village. They peddle out such a fish as that by the pound in the markethouse t; everybody buys some of him; his meat’s as white as s and makes a good fry. Next morning I said it was ting slow and dull, and I wanted to 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 k me, even in the daytime, hardly. I priced around day to the hang of the things, and by and by I could do pretty well in them, Jim said I didn’t walk like a girl; and he said I must quit pulling up my gown to 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, [Small logotype (EMA)]( ExpertModernAdvice.com is sending this newsletter on behalf Inception Media Group. ІMG appreciates your comments and inquiries. Please keep in mind, that Inception Media Group are not permitted to provide іndivіdualіzed financial advіse. This email is not fіnаncіаl аdvіcе and any іnvеstmеnt decision you make is solely your responsibility. Feel frее to contact us toll frее Domestic/International: +17072979173 Mon–Fri, 9am–5pm ET, or email us support@expertmodernadvice.com. [Unsubscrіbe]( to stop receiving mаrkеtіng communication from us. 312 W 2nd St Casper, WY 82601 2023 IMG Group. AІІ rights reserved [Unsubscrіbe]( ting well alone—and so on and so on, till I was afeard I had made a mistake coming to her to find out what was going on in the town; but by and by she dropped on to pap and the murder, and then I was pretty willing to let her clatter right along. She told about me and Tom Sawyer finding the six thousand ( she got it ten) and about pap and what a hard lot he was, and what a hard lot I was, and at last she got down to w I was murdered. I says: Who done it? We’ve heard considerable about these goings on down in Hookerville, but we don’t k who ‘twas that killed Huck Finn. Well, I reckon t’s a right smart of people that’d like to k who killed him. Some think old Finn done it himself. No—is that so? Most everybody thought it at first. He’ll k how nigh he come to ting lynched. But before night they changed around and judged it was done by a runaway nigger d Jim. Why he— I ped. I reckoned I better keep still. She run on, and noticed I had put in at : The nigger run the very night Huck Finn was killed. So t’s a reward out for him—three hundred . And t’s a reward out for old Finn, too—two hundred . You see, he come to town the morning after the murder, and told about it, and was out with ‘em on the ferryboat hunt, and right away after he up and left. Before night they wanted to lynch him, but he was gone, you see. Well, next day they found out the nigger was gone; they found out he hadn’t ben seen sence ten o’clock the night the murder was done. So then they put it on him, you see; and while they was full of it, next day, back comes old Finn, and went boo-hooing to Judge Thatcher to to hunt for the nigger over Illinois with. The judge gave him some, and that evening he got drunk, and was around till after midnight with a couple of mighty hard-looking strangers, and then went with them. Well, he hain’t come back sence, and they ain’t looking for him back till this thing blows over a little, for people thinks that he killed his boy and fixed things so folks would think robbers done it, and then he’d Huck’s HUCKLEBERRY FINN 59 without having to bother a long time with a lawsuit. People do say he warn’t any too good to do it. Oh, he’s sly, I reckon. If he don’t come back for a year he’ll be right. You can’t prove anything on him, you k; everything will be quieted down then, and he’ll walk in Huck’s as easy as nothing. Yes, I reckon so, ‘m. I don’t see nothing in the way of it. Has everybody guit thinking the nigger done it? Oh, no, not everybody. A good many thinks he done it. But they’ll the nigger pretty , and maybe they can scare it out of him. Why, are they after him yet? Well, you’re innocent, ain’t you! Does three hundred lay around every day for people to pick up? Some folks think the nigger ain’t far from . I’m one of them—but I hain’t talked it around. A few days ago I was talking with an old couple that lives next door in the log shanty, and they happened to say hardly anybody ever goes to that island over yonder that they c Jackson’s Island. Don’t anybody live t? says I. No, nobody, says they. I didn’t say any more, but I done some thinking. I was pretty near certain I’d seen smoke over t, about the head of the island, a day or two before that, so I says to myself, like as not that nigger’s hiding over t; anyway, says I, it’s worth the trouble to give the place a hunt. I hain’t seen any smoke sence, so I reckon maybe he’s gone, if it was him; but husband’s going over to see—him and another man. He was gone up the river; but he got back , and I told him as as he got two hours ago. I had got so uneasy I couldn’t set still. I had to do something with my hands; so I took up a needle of the table and went to threading it. My hands shook, and I was making a bad job of it. When the woman ped talking I looked up, and she was looking at me pretty curious and smiling a little. I put down the needle and thread, and let on to be interested—and I was, too—and says: Three hundred is a power of . I wish my mother could it. Is your husband going over t tonight? Oh, yes. He went up-town with the man I was telling you of, to a boat and see if they could borrow another gun. They’ll go over after midnight. HUCKLEBERRY FINN 60 Couldn’t they see better if they was to wait till daytime? Yes. And couldn’t the nigger see better, too? After midnight he’ll likely be asleep, and they can slip around through the woods and hunt up his camp fire the better for the dark, if he’s got one. I didn’t think of that. The woman kept looking at me pretty curious, and I didn’t feel a bit comfortable. Pretty she says What did you say your was, honey? M—Mary Williams. Somehow it didn’t seem to me that I said it was Mary before, so I didn’t look up—seemed to me I said it was Sarah; so I felt sort of cornered, and was afeared maybe I was looking it, too. I wished the woman would say something more; the longer she set still the uneasier I was. But she says: Honey, I thought you said it was Sarah when you first come in? Oh, yes’m, I did. Sarah Mary Williams. Sarah’s my first . Some cs me Sarah, some cs me Mary. Oh, that’s the way of it? Yes’m. I was feeling better then, but I wished I was out of t, anyway. I couldn’t look up yet. Well, the woman fell to talking about how hard times was, and how poor they had to live, and how the rats was as as if they owned the place, and so forth and so on, and then I got easy again. She was right about the rats. You’d see one stick his nose out of a hole in the corner every little while. She said she had to have things handy to throw at them when she was alone, or they wouldn’t give her no peace. She showed me a bar of lead twisted up into a knot, and said she was a good shot with it generly, but she’d wrenched her arm a day or two ago, and didn’t k whether she could throw true . But she watched for a , and directly banged away at a rat; but she missed him wide, and said Ouch! it hurt her arm so. Then she told me to try for the next one. I wanted to be ting away before the old man got back, but of course I didn’t let on. I got the thing, and the first rat that showed his nose I let drive, and if he’d a stayed w he was he’d a been a tolerable sick rat. She said that was first-, and HUCKLEBERRY FINN 61 she reckoned I would hive the next one. She went and got the lump of lead and fetched it back, and brought along a hank of yarn which she wanted me to help her with. I held up my two hands and she put the hank over them, and went on talking about her and her husband’s matters. But she broke to say: Keep your eye on the rats. You better have the lead in your lap, handy. So she dropped the lump into my lap just at that moment, and I clapped my legs toher on it and she went on talking. But about a minute. Then she took the hank and looked me straight in the face, and very pleasant, and says: Come, , what’s your real ? Wh—what, mum? What’s your real ? Is it Bill, or Tom, or Bob?—or what is it? I reckon I shook like a leaf, and I didn’t k hardly what to do. But I says: to don’t poke fun at a poor girl like me, mum. If I’m in the way , I’ll— No, you ’t. Set down and stay w you are. I ain’t going to hurt you, and I ain’t going to tell on you, nuther. You just tell me your secret, and trust me. I’ll keep it; and, what’s more, I’ll help you. So’ll my old man if you want him to. You see, you’re a runaway ‘prentice, that’s . It ain’t anything. T ain’t no harm in it. You’ve been treated bad, and you made up your mind to cut. Bless you, child, I wouldn’t tell on you. Tell me about it , that’s a good boy. So I said it wouldn’t be no use to try to play it any longer, and I would just make a clean breast and tell her everything, but she musn’t go back on her . Then I told her my father and mother was dead, and the law had bound me out to a mean old farmer in the country thirty mile back from the river, and he treated me so bad I couldn’t stand it no longer; he went away to be gone a couple of days, and so I took my and stole some of his daughter’s old clothes and cleared out, and I had been three nights coming the thirty miles. I traveled nights, and hid daytimes and slept, and the bag of bread and meat I carried from lasted me the way, and I had aplenty. I said I believed my uncle Abner Moore would take care of HUCKLEBERRY FINN 62 me, and so that was why I struck out for this town of Goshen. Goshen, child? This ain’t Goshen. This is St. Petersburg. Goshen’s ten mile further up the river. Who told you this was Goshen? Why, a man I met at daybreak this morning, just as I was going to turn into the woods for my regular sleep. He told me when the roads forked I must take the right hand, and five mile would fetch me to Goshen. He was drunk, I reckon. He told you just exly wrong. Well,,he did like he was drunk, but it ain’t no matter . I got to be moving along. I’ll fetch Goshen before daylight. Hold on a minute. I’ll put you up a snack to eat. You might want it. So she put me up a snack, and says: Say, when a cow’s laying down, which end of her s up first? Answer up prompt —don’t to study over it. Which end s up first? The hind end, mum. Well, then, a horse? The for’rard end, mum. Which side of a tree does the moss grow on? North side. If fifteen cows is browsing on a hillside, how many of them eats with their heads pointed the same direction? The whole fifteen, mum. Well, I reckon you have lived in the country. I thought maybe you was trying to hocus me again. What’s your real , ? George Peters, mum. Well, try to remember it, George. Don’t for and tell me it’s Elexander before you go, and then out by saying it’s George Elexander when I catch you. And don’t go about women in that old calico. You do a girl tolerable poor, but you might fool men, maybe. Bless you, child, when you set out to thread a needle don’t hold the thread still and fetch the needle up to it; hold the needle still and poke the thread at it; that’s the way a woman most always does, but a man always does t’other way. And when you throw at a or anything, hitch yourself up a tiptoe and fetch your hand up over your