Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Zombie Jim Read Online Free PDF Page A

talked to Jim, and Jim told it to me. He says:
    "Woof. Yo’ ol’ fatha don’ know yit what he's gon’ to do. Gruh. Sometimes he spec he'll go ‘way, en den he spec he'll stay. De bes’ way is to res’ easy en let de ol’ man take his own way. Grr. Dey's two angels hoverin’ roun’ ‘bout him. One uv ‘em is white en shiny, en da other one is black. De white one gits him to go right a little while, den de black one sail in en bust it all up. A body can't tell yit which one gon’ to fetch him at de end. But you's all right. You gon’ to have consid'able trouble in yo’ life, en consid'able joy. Garrhh. Sometimes you gon’ to git hurt, en sometimes you gon’ to git sick; but every time you's gwyne to git well agin. Dey's two gals flyin’ ‘bout you in yo’ life. One uv ‘em's light en t'other one is dark. One is rich en t'other is po'. You gon’ to marry de po’ one frust en de rich one by en by. You wants to keep ‘way fum de water as much as you kin, en don't run no resk, ‘kase it's down in de bills dat you's gon’ to git hung. Woof."
    Jim sometimes woofed like that. Like an animal. It wasn't no thing with baggers. They made all kinds a'strange noises. If you din’ know better, you might think it's the sound of goblins n’ spirits n’ such.
    When I lit my candle and went up to my room that night there sat pap-his own self!

CHAPTER V
    I had shut the door. Then I turned around and there he was. I used to be scared of him all the time, he tanned me so much. I reckoned I was scared now, too; but in a minute I see I was mistaken-that is, after the first jolt, as you may say, when my breath sort of hitched, he being so unexpected; but right away after I see I warn't scared of him worth bothring about.
    He was most fifty, and he looked it. His hair was long and tangled and greasy, and hung down, and you could see his eyes shining through like he was behind vines. It was all black, no gray; so was his long, mixed-up whiskers. There warn't no color in his face, where his face showed; it was white; not like another man's white, but a white to make a body sick, a white to make a body's flesh crawl-a tree-toad white, a fish-belly white. Maybe even bagger white, as I seen some of them go. As for his clothes-just rags, that was all. He had one ankle resting on t'other knee; the boot on that foot was busted, and two of his toes stuck through, and he worked them now and then. I seen plenty of folks come back from Hell who looked a far sight better than he did. His hat was laying on the floor-an old black slouch with the top caved in, like a lid.
    I stood a-looking at him; he set there a-looking at me, with his chair tilted back a little. I set the candle down. I noticed the window was up; so he had clumb in by the shed. He kept a-looking me all over. By and by he says:
    "Starchy clothes-very. You think you're a good deal of a big-bug, don't you?"
    "Maybe I am, maybe I ain't,” I says.
    "Don't you give me none o’ your lip,” says he. “You've put on considerable many frills since I been away. I'll take you down a peg before I get done with you. You're educated, too, they say-can read and write. You think you're better'n your father, now, don't you, because he can't? I'll take it out of you. Who told you you might meddle with such hifalut'n foolishness, hey?-who told you you could?"
    "The widow. She told me."
    "The widow, hey?-and who told the widow she could put in her shovel about a thing that ain't none of her business?"
    "Nobody never told her."
    "Well, I'll learn her how to meddle. And looky here-you drop that school, you hear? I'll learn people to bring up a boy to put on airs over his own father and let on to be better'n what he is. You lemme catch you fooling around that school again, you hear? Your mother couldn't read, and she couldn't write, nuther, before she died. None of the family couldn't before they died. I can't; and here you're a-swelling yourself up like this. I ain't the man to stand