Publisher's Synopsis
Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she wouldn't. She said it wasa mean practice and wasn't clean, and I must try to not do it any more. That is just the way withsome people. They get down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it. Here she was abothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, being gone, you see, yetfinding a power of fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, because she done it herself.Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, andthen the widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it much longer. Then for an hour it was deadlydull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, "Don't put your feet up there, Huckleberry;" and"Don't scrunch up like that, Huckleberry-set up straight;" and pretty soon she would say, "Don'tgap and stretch like that, Huckleberry-why don't you try to behave?" Then she told me all aboutthe bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All Iwanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn't particular. She said it was wickedto say what I said; said she wouldn't say it for the whole world; she was going to live so as to go tothe good place. Well, I couldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up mymind I wouldn't try for it. But I never said so, because it would only make trouble, and wouldn't dono goo
