{"product_id":"2940014556460","title":"Adventures of Huckleberry Finn","description":"Discover Moses and the Bulrushers\u003cbr\u003eYou don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of\u003cbr\u003eThe Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was\u003cbr\u003emade by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was\u003cbr\u003ethings which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I\u003cbr\u003enever seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt\u003cbr\u003ePolly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly—Tom's Aunt Polly, she\u003cbr\u003eis—and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book,\u003cbr\u003ewhich is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before.\u003cbr\u003eNow the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the\u003cbr\u003emoney that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six\u003cbr\u003ethousand dollars apiece—all gold. It was an awful sight of money when\u003cbr\u003eit was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out at interest,\u003cbr\u003eand it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year round— more than a\u003cbr\u003ebody could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she took me for\u003cbr\u003eher son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it was rough living in\u003cbr\u003ethe house all the time, considering how dismal regular and decent the\u003cbr\u003ewidow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn't stand it no longer I lit\u003cbr\u003eout. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead again, and was free\u003cbr\u003eand satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going\u003cbr\u003eto start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would go back to the widow\u003cbr\u003eand be respectable. So I went back.\u003cbr\u003eThe widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she\u003cbr\u003ecalled me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by it.\u003cbr\u003eShe put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing but\u003cbr\u003esweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing commenced\u003cbr\u003eagain. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come\u003cbr\u003eto time. When you got to the table you couldn't go right to eating, but\u003cbr\u003eyou had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a\u003cbr\u003elittle over the victuals, though there warn't really anything the matter\u003cbr\u003ewith them,—that is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a\u003cbr\u003e4\u003cbr\u003ebarrel of odds and ends it is different; things get mixed up, and the juice\u003cbr\u003ekind of swaps around, and the things go better.\u003cbr\u003eAfter supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and\u003cbr\u003ethe Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and\u003cbr\u003eby she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so\u003cbr\u003ethen I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stock in\u003cbr\u003edead people.\u003cbr\u003ePretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she\u003cbr\u003ewouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't clean, and I must\u003cbr\u003etry to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. They get\u003cbr\u003edown on a thing when they don't know nothing about it. Here she was abothering\u003cbr\u003eabout Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody,\u003cbr\u003ebeing gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a\u003cbr\u003ething that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that\u003cbr\u003ewas all right, because she done it herself.\u003cbr\u003eHer sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on,\u003cbr\u003ehad just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spellingbook.\u003cbr\u003eShe worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then the\u003cbr\u003ewidow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it much longer. Then for an\u003cbr\u003ehour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say,\u003cbr\u003e\"Don't put your feet up there, Huckleberry;\" and \"Don't scrunch up like\u003cbr\u003ethat, Huckleberry—set up straight;\" and pretty soon she would say,\u003cbr\u003e\"Don't gap and stretch like that, Huckleberry—why don't you try to behave?\"\u003cbr\u003eThen she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I\u003cbr\u003ewas there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted\u003cbr\u003ewas to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn't particular.\u003cbr\u003eShe said it was wicked to say what I said; said she wouldn't say it for the\u003cbr\u003ewhole world; she was going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I\u003cbr\u003ecouldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up\u003cbr\u003emy mind I wouldn't try for it. But I never said so, because it would only\u003cbr\u003emake trouble, and wouldn't do no good.\u003cbr\u003eNow she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the\u003cbr\u003egood place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around\u003cbr\u003eall day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn't think\u003cbr\u003emuch of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer\u003cbr\u003ewould go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad\u003cbr\u003eabout that, because I wanted him and me to be together.\u003cbr\u003eMiss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome.\u003cbr\u003eBy and by they fetched the ...","brand":"All classic book warehouse","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47083771724016,"sku":"2940014556460","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940014556460_p0.jpg?v=1763611104","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940014556460","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}