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 warwhoop, 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. Uncle Silas he says:
"It's most
uncommon curious, I can't understand
it. I know
perfectly well I took it OFF,
because --"
"Because you
hain't got but one ON. Just
LISTEN at the man!
I know you took it off, and know
it by a better way than your
wool-gethering memory, too, because
it was on the clo's-line yesterday
-- I see it there myself. But
it's gone, that's the long and
the short of it, and you'll just
have to change to a red flann'l
one till I can get time to make
a new one. And it 'll be the
third I've made in two years.
It just keeps a body on the jump
to keep you in shirts; and whatever
you do manage to DO with 'm all
is more'n I can make out. A body
'd think you WOULD learn to take
some sort of care of 'em at your
time of life."
"I know it,
Sally, and I do try all I can.
But it oughtn't
to be altogether my fault, because,
you know, I don't see them nor
have nothing to do with them
except when they're on me; and
I don't believe I've ever lost
one of them OFF of me."
"Well, it ain't
YOUR fault if you haven't,
Silas; you'd
a done it if you could, I reckon.
And the shirt ain't all that's
gone, nuther. Ther's a spoon
gone; and THAT ain't all. There
was ten, and now ther's only
nine. The calf got the shirt,
I reckon, but the calf never
took the spoon, THAT'S certain."
"Why, what
else is gone, Sally?"
"Ther's six
CANDLES gone -- that's what.
The rats could a
got the candles, and I reckon
they did; I wonder they don't
walk off with the whole place,
the way you're always going to
stop their holes and don't do
it; and if they warn't fools
they'd sleep in your hair, Silas
-- YOU'D never find it out; but
you can't lay the SPOON on the
rats, and that I know."
"Well, Sally,
I'm in fault, and I acknowledge
it; I've been
remiss; but I won't let to-morrow
go by without stopping up them
holes."
"Oh, I wouldn't
hurry; next year 'll do. Matilda
Angelina
Araminta PHELPS!"
Whack comes the thimble, and
the child snatches her claws
out of the sugar-bowl without
fooling around any. Just then
the nigger woman steps on to
the passage, and says:
"Missus, dey's
a sheet gone."
"A SHEET gone!
Well, for the land's sake!"
"I'll stop up them holes to-day," says
Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful.
"Oh, DO shet
up! -- s'pose the rats took
the SHEET? WHERE'S
it gone, Lize?"
"Clah to goodness
I hain't no notion, Miss' Sally.
She wuz
on de clo'sline yistiddy, but
she done gone: she ain' dah no
mo' now."
"I reckon the
world IS coming to an end.
I NEVER see the beat
of it in all my born days. A
shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon,
and six can --"
"Missus," comes a young yaller
wench, "dey's a brass cannelstick
miss'n."
"Cler out from
here, you hussy, er I'll take
a skillet to ye!"
Well, she was just a-biling.
I begun to lay for a chance;
I reckoned I would sneak out
and go for the woods till the
weather moderated. She kept a-raging
right along, running her insurrection
all by herself, and everybody
else mighty meek and quiet; and
at last Uncle Silas, looking
kind of foolish, fishes up that
spoon out of his pocket. She
stopped, with her mouth open
and her hands up; and as for
me, I wished I was in Jeruslem
or somewheres. But not long,
because she says:
"It's JUST
as I expected. So you had it
in your pocket all
the time; and like as not you've
got the other things there, too.
How'd it get there?"
"I reely don't know, Sally," he
says, kind of apologizing, "or
you know I would tell. I was
astudying over my text in Acts
Seventeen before breakfast, and
I reckon I put it in there, not
noticing, meaning to put my Testament
in, and it must be so, because
my Testament ain't in; but I'll
go and see; and if the Testament
is where I had it, I'll know
I didn't put it in, and that
will show that I laid the Testament
down and took up the spoon, and
--"
"Oh, for the
land's sake! Give a body a
rest! Go 'long now,
the whole kit and biling of ye;
and don't come nigh me again
till I've got back my peace of
mind."
I'D a heard her if she'd a
said it to herself, let alone
speaking it out; and I'd a got
up and obeyed her if I'd a been
dead. As we was passing through
the setting-room the old man
he took up his hat, and the shingle-nail
fell out on the floor, and he
just merely picked it up and
laid it on the mantel-shelf,
and never said nothing, and went
out. Tom see him do it, and remembered
about the spoon, and says:
"Well, it ain't no use to send
things by HIM no more, he ain't
reliable." Then he says: "But
he done us a good turn with the
spoon, anyway, without knowing
it, and so we'll go and do him
one without HIM knowing it --
stop up his rat-holes."
There was a noble good lot
of them down cellar, and it took
us a whole hour, but we done
the job tight and good and shipshape.
Then we heard steps on the stairs,
and blowed out our light and
hid; and here comes the old man,
with a candle in one hand and
a bundle of stuff in t'other,
looking as absent-minded as year
before last. He went a mooning
around, first to one rat-hole
and then another, till he'd been
to them all. Then he stood about
five minutes, picking tallowdrip
off of his candle and thinking.
Then he turns off slow and dreamy
towards the stairs, saying:
"Well, for
the life of me I can't remember
when I done it.
I could show her now that I warn't
to blame on account of the rats.
But never mind -- let it go.
I reckon it wouldn't do no good."
And so he went on a-mumbling
up stairs, and then we left.
He was a mighty nice old man.
And always is.
Tom was a good deal bothered
about what to do for a spoon,
but he said we'd got to have
it; so he took a think. When
he had ciphered it out he told
me how we was to do; then we
went and waited around the spoon-basket
till we see Aunt Sally coming,
and then Tom went to counting
the spoons and laying them out
to one side, and I slid one of
them up my sleeve, and Tom says:
"Why, Aunt
Sally, there ain't but nine
spoons YET."
She says:
"Go 'long to
your play, and don't bother
me. I know better,
I counted 'm myself."
"Well, I've
counted them twice, Aunty,
and I can't make but nine."
She looked out of all patience,
but of course she come to count
-- anybody would.
"I declare to gracious ther'
AIN'T but nine!" she says. "Why,
what in the world -- plague TAKE
the things, I'll count 'm again."
So I slipped back the one I
had, and when she got done counting,
she says:
"Hang the troublesome rubbage,
ther's TEN now!" and she looked
huffy and bothered both. But
Tom says:
"Why, Aunty,
I don't think there's ten."
"You numskull,
didn't you see me COUNT 'm?"
"I know, but
--"
"Well, I'll
count 'm AGAIN."
So I smouched one, and they
come out nine, same as the other
time. Well, she WAS in a tearing
way -- just a-trembling all over,
she was so mad. But she counted
and counted till she got that
addled she'd start to count in
the basket for a spoon sometimes;
and so, three times they come
out right, and three times they
come out wrong. Then she grabbed
up the basket and slammed it
across the house and knocked
the cat galley-west; and she
said cle'r out and let her have
some peace, and if we come bothering
around her again betwixt that
and dinner she'd skin us. So
we had the odd spoon, and dropped
it in her apron-pocket whilst
she was a-giving us our sailing
orders, and Jim got it all right,
along with her shingle nail,
before noon. We was very well
satisfied with this business,
and Tom allowed it was worth
twice the trouble it took, because
he said NOW she couldn't ever
count them spoons twice alike
again to save her life; and wouldn't
believe she'd counted them right
if she DID; and said that after
she'd about counted her head
off for the next three days he
judged she'd give it up and offer
to kill anybody that wanted her
to ever count them any more.
So we put the sheet back on
the line that night, and stole
one out of her closet; and kept
on putting it back and stealing
it again for a couple of days
till she didn't know how many
sheets she had any more, and
she didn't CARE, and warn't a-going
to bullyrag the rest of her soul
out about it, and wouldn't count
them again not to save her life;
she druther die first.
So we was all right now, as
to the shirt and the sheet and
the spoon and the candles, by
the help of the calf and the
rats and the mixed-up counting;
and as to the candlestick, it
warn't no consequence, it would
blow over by and by.
But that pie was a job; we
had no end of trouble with that
pie. We fixed it up away down
in the woods, and cooked it there;
and we got it done at last, and
very satisfactory, too; but not
all in one day; and we had to
use up three wash-pans full of
flour before we got through,
and we got burnt pretty much
all over, in places, and eyes
put out with the smoke; because,
you see, we didn't want nothing
but a crust, and we couldn't
prop it up right, and she would
always cave in. But of course
we thought of the right way at
last -- which was to cook the
ladder, too, in the pie. So then
we laid in with Jim the second
night, and tore up the sheet
all in little strings and twisted
them together, and long before
daylight we had a lovely rope
that you could a hung a person
with. We let on it took nine
months to make it.
And in the forenoon we took
it down to the woods, but it
wouldn't go into the pie. Being
made of a whole sheet, that way,
there was rope enough for forty
pies if we'd a wanted them, and
plenty left over for soup, or
sausage, or anything you choose.
We could a had a whole dinner.
But we didn't need it. All
we needed was just enough for
the pie, and so we throwed the
rest away. We didn't cook none
of the pies in the wash-pan --
afraid the solder would melt;
but Uncle Silas he had a noble
brass warming-pan which he thought
considerable of, because it belonged
to one of his ancesters with
a long wooden handle that come
over from England with William
the Conqueror in the Mayflower
or one of them early ships and
was hid away up garret with a
lot of other old pots and things
that was valuable, not on account
of being any account, because
they warn't, but on account of
them being relicts, you know,
and we snaked her out, private,
and took her down there, but
she failed on the first pies,
because we didn't know how, but
she come up smiling on the last
one. We took and lined her with
dough, and set her in the coals,
and loaded her up with rag rope,
and put on a dough roof, and
shut down the lid, and put hot
embers on top, and stood off
five foot, with the long handle,
cool and comfortable, and in
fifteen minutes she turned out
a pie that was a satisfaction
to look at. But the person that
et it would want to fetch a couple
of kags of toothpicks along,
for if that rope ladder wouldn't
cramp him down to business I
don't know nothing what I'm talking
about, and lay him in enough
stomach-ache to last him till
next time, too.
Nat didn't look when we put
the witch pie in Jim's pan; and
we put the three tin plates in
the bottom of the pan under the
vittles; and so Jim got everything
all right, and as soon as he
was by himself he busted into
the pie and hid the rope ladder
inside of his straw tick, and
scratched some marks on a tin
plate and throwed it out of the
window-hole.
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