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, and then the widow made her ease up. I couldn’t stood it much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull, 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’t gap and stretch like that, Huckleberry — why don’t you try to behave?” Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn’t mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I