Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

I never see such a nigger.  If he got a notion in his head once, there warn’t no getting it out again.  He was the most down on Solomon of any nigger I ever see.  So I went to talking about other kings, and let Solomon slide.  I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off in France long time ago; and about his little boy the dolphin, that would a been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died there. “Po’ little chap.” “But some says he got out and got away, and come to America.” “Dat’s good!  But he’ll be pooty lonesome--dey ain’ no kings here, is dey, Huck?” “No.” “Den he cain’t git no situation.  What he gwyne to do?” “Well, I don’t know.  Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns people how to talk French.” “Why, Huck, doan’ de French people talk de same way we does?” “_No_, Jim; you couldn’t understand a word they said--not a single word.” “Well, now, I be ding-busted!  How do dat come?” “I don’t know; but it’s so.  I got some of their jabber out of a book. S’pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy--what would you think?” “I wouldn’ think nuff’n; I’d take en bust him over de head--dat is, if he warn’t white.  I wouldn’t ‘low no nigger to call me dat.” “Shucks, it ain’t calling you anything.  It’s only saying, do you know how to talk French?” “Well, den, why couldn’t he _say_ it?” “Why, he _is_ a-saying it.  That’s a Frenchman’s _way_ of saying it.” “Well, it’s a blame ridicklous way, en I doan’ want to hear no mo’ ‘bout it.  Dey ain’ no sense in it.” “Looky here, Jim; does a cat talk like we do?” “No, a cat don’t.” “Well, does a cow?” “No, a cow don’t, nuther.” “Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat?” “No, dey don’t.” “It’s natural and right for ‘em to talk different from each other, ain’t it?” “Course.” “And ain’t it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk different from _us_?” “Why, mos’ sholy it is.” “Well, then, why ain’t it natural and right for a _Frenchman_ to talk different from us?  You answer me that.” “Is a cat a man, Huck?” “No.” “Well, den, dey ain’t no sense in a cat talkin’ like a man.  Is a cow a man?--er is a cow a cat?” “No, she ain’t either of them.” “Well, den, she ain’t got no business to talk like either one er the yuther of ‘em.  Is a Frenchman a man?” “Yes.” “_Well_, den!  Dad blame it, why doan’ he _talk_ like a man?  You answer me _dat_!” I see it warn’t no use wasting words--you can’t learn a nigger to argue. So I quit. CHAPTER XV. WE judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at the bottom of Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was what we was after.  We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go way up the Ohio amongst the free States, and then be out of trouble. Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for a towhead to tie to, for it wouldn’t do to try to run in a fog; but when I paddled ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn’t anything but little saplings to tie to.  I passed the line around one of them right on the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiff current, and the raft come booming down so lively she tore it out by the roots and away she went.  I see the fog closing down, and it made me so sick and scared I couldn’t budge for most a half a minute it seemed to me--and then there warn’t no raft in sight; you couldn’t see twenty yards.  I jumped into the canoe and run back to the stern, and grabbed the paddle and set her back a stroke.  But she didn’t come.  I was in such a hurry I hadn’t untied her.  I got up and tried to untie her, but I was so excited my hands shook so I couldn’t hardly do anything with them. As soon as I got started I took out after the raft, hot and heavy, right down the towhead.  That was all right as far as it went, but the towhead warn’t sixty yards long, and the minute I flew by the foot of it I shot out into the solid white fog, and hadn’t no more idea which way I was going than a dead man.