15 Respectable Huck Joins Tom’s Gang

CHAPTER 15 Respectable Huck Joins Tom's Gang Huck looked around nervously. "That window ain't too high, Tom. If we can find a rope, I reckon we can scoot out of here." "Shucks, what do you want to do that for?" "I ain't used to that kind of crowd, Tom. I can't go down there." "Oh, bother. It ain't anything. I'll take care of you." Some minutes later, the widow's guests were at the supper table, and a dozen

children were propped up at little side tables in the room. The dinner was in honor of the old Welshman and his sons to thank them for their heroic deeds. At the proper time, the old man got to his feet to make a speech and thank the widow. As the crowd listened eagerly, he paused and then said there was another person in the room who deserved the greatest honor. "Huck Finn." A murmur of surprise ran through the room. The widow herself wore a look of great astonishment as she now learned of Huck's role in preventing Injun Joe from harming her. After dinner, the widow sprang a surprise of her own. She said that she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have him educated; and that when she could spare the money, she would help him start a small

business. Then Tom spoke up: "Huck don't need it. Huck's rich." The crowd could hardly keep from laughing at the thought that Huck Finn was rich. Knowing how strange he must have sounded, Tom continued: "Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of it. Oh you needn't smile—I reckon I can show you. Just wait a minute." Tom ran out of the door, as the guests looked more and more puzzled. A minute later, he was back, struggling with the weight of his money sacks. He poured the mass of yellow coins out onto the table and said: "Here—what did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine!" Nobody spoke for a moment. Then

everyone began shouting for an explanation, which Tom was quick to provide. After he had finished, the money was counted—it added up to a little over twelve thousand dollars. Huck Finn was rich! The Widow Douglas put Huck's money in the bank, and Aunt Polly did the same with Tom's. As for Becky's father, Judge Thatcher now had a great opinion of Tom. He said that no ordinary boy would have gotten his daughter out of that cave, and that he hoped to see Tom become a great lawyer or a great soldier someday. He would even see to it that Tom went to West Point and was later trained at the best law school in the entire country. Huck Finn's wealth, and the fact that he was now under the Widow Douglas's protection, introduced him to society—no, dragged him into it—and his sufferings were

almost more than he could bear. The widow's servants kept him neat and clean, combed and brushed at all times. He had to eat with a knife and fork; he had to use a napkin, cup, and plate; he had to learn his book; he had to go to church; he had to talk properly as well. Huck bravely bore these miseries for three whole weeks until one Saturday he turned up missing. For two full days, the widow hunted for him everywhere, but no one could find the boy. Early on the third morning, Tom Sawyer went poking among some old empty hog stalls behind the abandoned grain silo and, in one of them, he found his friend. Huck had slept there that night. When Tom found him, Huck had just finished eating some stolen odds and ends of food and was wearing his old rags and enjoying a piece of gum. Tom told him about the trouble he was causing and urged him to go home.

"Don't talk about it, Tom," Huck sighed. "I've tried it, and it don't work. It ain't for me. The widow's good to me, and friendly, but I can't stand them ways. She makes me git up just at the same time every morning; she makes me wash; they comb me all to thunder; she won't let me sleep in the woodshed. I got to wear them blamed clothes that just smothers me. I got to go to church and sweat and sweat—I hate them loud sermons!" "Well, everybody does that way, Huck." "Tom, it makes no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't stand it. Looky-here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and wishing you was dead all the time. You take my share of it, Tom, and gimme ten cents sometimes when I need it—and you go home and apologize for me with the widow."