THAT was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbage-pile in the back yard, where they keep the old boots, and rags, and pieces of bottles, and wore-out tin things, and all such truck, and scratched around and found an old tin washpan, and stopped up the holes as well as we could, to bake the pie in, and took it down cellar and stole it full of flour and started for breakfast, and found a couple of shingle-nails that Tom said would be handy for a prisoner to scrabble his name and sorrows on the dungeon walls with, and dropped one of them in Aunt Sally's apron-pocket which was hanging on a chair, and t'other we stuck in the band of Uncle Silas's hat, which was on the bureau, because we heard the children say their pa and ma was going to the runaway nigger's house this morning, and then went to breakfast, and Tom dropped the pewter spoon in Uncle Silas's coat-pocket, and Aunt Sally wasn't come yet, so we had to wait a little while.

And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn't hardly wait for the blessing; and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one hand and cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with the other, and says:

"I've hunted high and I've hunted low, and it does beat all what HAS become of your other shirt."

My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hard piece of corn-crust started down my throat after it and got met on the road with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of the children in the eye and curled him up like a fishing-worm, and let a cry out of him the size of a warwhoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue around the gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of things for about a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would a sold out for half price if there was a bidder. But after that we was all right again -- it was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us so kind of cold. Uncle Silas he says:

"It's most uncommon curious, I can't understand it. I know perfectly well I took it OFF, because --"

"Because you hain't got but one ON. Just LISTEN at the man! I know you took it off, and know it by a better way than your wool-gethering memory, too, because it was on the clo's-line yesterday -- I see it there myself. But it's gone, that's the long and the short of it, and you'll just have to change to a red flann'l one till I can get time to make a new one. And it 'll be the third I've made in two years. It just keeps a body on the jump to keep you in shirts; and whatever you do manage to DO with 'm all is more'n I can make out. A body 'd think you WOULD learn to take some sort of care of 'em at your time of life."

"I know it, Sally, and I do try all I can. But it oughtn't to be altogether my fault, because, you know, I don't see them nor have nothing to do with them except when they're on me; and I don't believe I've ever lost one of them OFF of me."

"Well, it ain't YOUR fault if you haven't, Silas; you'd a done it if you could, I reckon. And the shirt ain't all that's gone, nuther. Ther's a spoon gone; and THAT ain't all. There was ten, and now ther's only nine. The calf got the shirt, I reckon, but the calf never took the spoon, THAT'S certain."

"Why, what else is gone, Sally?"

"Ther's six CANDLES gone -- that's what. The rats could a got the candles, and I reckon they did; I wonder they don't walk off with the whole place, the way you're always going to stop their holes and don't do it; and if they warn't fools they'd sleep in your hair, Silas -- YOU'D never find it out; but you can't lay the SPOON on the rats, and that I know."

"Well, Sally, I'm in fault, and I acknowledge it; I've been remiss; but I won't let to-morrow go by without stopping up them holes."

"Oh, I wouldn't hurry; next year 'll do. Matilda Angelina Araminta PHELPS!"

Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the sugar-bowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman steps on to the passage, and says:

"Missus, dey's a sheet gone."

"A SHEET gone! Well, for the land's sake!"

"I'll stop up them holes to-day," says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful.

"Oh, DO shet up! -- s'pose the rats took the SHEET? WHERE'S it gone, Lize?"

"Clah to goodness I hain't no notion, Miss' Sally. She wuz on de clo'sline yistiddy, but she done gone: she ain' dah no mo' now."

"I reckon the world IS coming to an end. I NEVER see the beat of it in all my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can --"

"Missus," comes a young yaller wench, "dey's a brass cannelstick miss'n."

"Cler out from here, you hussy, er I'll take a skillet to ye!"

Well, she was just a-biling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned I would sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. She kept a-raging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, and everybody else mighty meek and quiet; and at last Uncle Silas, looking kind of foolish, fishes up that spoon out of his pocket. She stopped, with her mouth open and her hands up; and as for me, I wished I was in Jeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says:

"It's JUST as I expected. So you had it in your pocket all the time; and like as not you've got the other things there, too. How'd it get there?"

"I reely don't know, Sally," he says, kind of apologizing, "or you know I would tell. I was astudying over my text in Acts Seventeen before breakfast, and I reckon I put it in there, not noticing, meaning to put my Testament in, and it must be so, because my Testament ain't in; but I'll go and see; and if the Testament is where I had it, I'll know I didn't put it in, and that will show that I laid the Testament down and took up the spoon, and --"

"Oh, for the land's sake! Give a body a rest! Go 'long now, the whole kit and biling of ye; and don't come nigh me again till I've got back my peace of mind."

I'D a heard her if she'd a said it to herself, let alone speaking it out; and I'd a got up and obeyed her if I'd a been dead. As we was passing through the setting-room the old man he took up his hat, and the shingle-nail fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up and laid it on the mantel-shelf, and never said nothing, and went out. Tom see him do it, and remembered about the spoon, and says:

"Well, it ain't no use to send things by HIM no more, he ain't reliable." Then he says: "But he done us a good turn with the spoon, anyway, without knowing it, and so we'll go and do him one without HIM knowing it -- stop up his rat-holes."

There was a noble good lot of them down cellar, and it took us a whole hour, but we done the job tight and good and shipshape. Then we heard steps on the stairs, and blowed out our light and hid; and here comes the old man, with a candle in one hand and a bundle of stuff in t'other, looking as absent-minded as year before last. He went a mooning around, first to one rat-hole and then another, till he'd been to them all. Then he stood about five minutes, picking tallowdrip off of his candle and thinking. Then he turns off slow and dreamy towards the stairs, saying:

"Well, for the life of me I can't remember when I done it. I could show her now that I warn't to blame on account of the rats. But never mind -- let it go. I reckon it wouldn't do no good."

And so he went on a-mumbling up stairs, and then we left. He was a mighty nice old man. And always is.

Tom was a good deal bothered about what to do for a spoon, but he said we'd got to have it; so he took a think. When he had ciphered it out he told me how we was to do; then we went and waited around the spoon-basket till we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to counting the spoons and laying them out to one side, and I slid one of them up my sleeve, and Tom says:

"Why, Aunt Sally, there ain't but nine spoons YET."

She says:

"Go 'long to your play, and don't bother me. I know better, I counted 'm myself."

"Well, I've counted them twice, Aunty, and I can't make but nine."

She looked out of all patience, but of course she come to count -- anybody would.

"I declare to gracious ther' AIN'T but nine!" she says. "Why, what in the world -- plague TAKE the things, I'll count 'm again."

So I slipped back the one I had, and when she got done counting, she says:

"Hang the troublesome rubbage, ther's TEN now!" and she looked huffy and bothered both. But Tom says:

"Why, Aunty, I don't think there's ten."

"You numskull, didn't you see me COUNT 'm?"

"I know, but --"

"Well, I'll count 'm AGAIN."

So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, she WAS in a tearing way -- just a-trembling all over, she was so mad. But she counted and counted till she got that addled she'd start to count in the basket for a spoon sometimes; and so, three times they come out right, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed up the basket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat galley-west; and she said cle'r out and let her have some peace, and if we come bothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she'd skin us. So we had the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apron-pocket whilst she was a-giving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along with her shingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with this business, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, because he said NOW she couldn't ever count them spoons twice alike again to save her life; and wouldn't believe she'd counted them right if she DID; and said that after she'd about counted her head off for the next three days he judged she'd give it up and offer to kill anybody that wanted her to ever count them any more.

So we put the sheet back on the line that night, and stole one out of her closet; and kept on putting it back and stealing it again for a couple of days till she didn't know how many sheets she had any more, and she didn't CARE, and warn't a-going to bullyrag the rest of her soul out about it, and wouldn't count them again not to save her life; she druther die first.

So we was all right now, as to the shirt and the sheet and the spoon and the candles, by the help of the calf and the rats and the mixed-up counting; and as to the candlestick, it warn't no consequence, it would blow over by and by.

But that pie was a job; we had no end of trouble with that pie. We fixed it up away down in the woods, and cooked it there; and we got it done at last, and very satisfactory, too; but not all in one day; and we had to use up three wash-pans full of flour before we got through, and we got burnt pretty much all over, in places, and eyes put out with the smoke; because, you see, we didn't want nothing but a crust, and we couldn't prop it up right, and she would always cave in. But of course we thought of the right way at last -- which was to cook the ladder, too, in the pie. So then we laid in with Jim the second night, and tore up the sheet all in little strings and twisted them together, and long before daylight we had a lovely rope that you could a hung a person with. We let on it took nine months to make it.

And in the forenoon we took it down to the woods, but it wouldn't go into the pie. Being made of a whole sheet, that way, there was rope enough for forty pies if we'd a wanted them, and plenty left over for soup, or sausage, or anything you choose. We could a had a whole dinner.

But we didn't need it. All we needed was just enough for the pie, and so we throwed the rest away. We didn't cook none of the pies in the wash-pan -- afraid the solder would melt; but Uncle Silas he had a noble brass warming-pan which he thought considerable of, because it belonged to one of his ancesters with a long wooden handle that come over from England with William the Conqueror in the Mayflower or one of them early ships and was hid away up garret with a lot of other old pots and things that was valuable, not on account of being any account, because they warn't, but on account of them being relicts, you know, and we snaked her out, private, and took her down there, but she failed on the first pies, because we didn't know how, but she come up smiling on the last one. We took and lined her with dough, and set her in the coals, and loaded her up with rag rope, and put on a dough roof, and shut down the lid, and put hot embers on top, and stood off five foot, with the long handle, cool and comfortable, and in fifteen minutes she turned out a pie that was a satisfaction to look at. But the person that et it would want to fetch a couple of kags of toothpicks along, for if that rope ladder wouldn't cramp him down to business I don't know nothing what I'm talking about, and lay him in enough stomach-ache to last him till next time, too.

Nat didn't look when we put the witch pie in Jim's pan; and we put the three tin plates in the bottom of the pan under the vittles; and so Jim got everything all right, and as soon as he was by himself he busted into the pie and hid the rope ladder inside of his straw tick, and scratched some marks on a tin plate and throwed it out of the window-hole.

这样就把一切安排好了。我们便走了出来，到了场院里的垃圾堆那里。这家人的旧皮靴
啊、烂布头啊、碎瓶子啊、旧白铁什物啊这类破烂都扔在那儿。我们翻捡了一阵，找到了一
只白铁做的旧洗碗盆，把盆子上的洞洞尽可能堵好，用来烘饼子。我们下到地窖里去，偷偷
装了一盆面粉，随后去吃早点，又找到了几只小钉子。汤姆说，这些钉子，囚徒可以用来在
地牢墙上刻下自己的名字、自己的愁苦。他把一只小钉放到了搭在椅子上的萨莉阿姨围裙口
袋里。另一个塞在柜子上搁着的西拉斯姨父的帽箍里。这是因为我们听到孩子们说，说他们
的爸爸妈妈今早上要去到逃亡黑奴那间屋去。随后我们去吃早饭。汤姆又把一只调羹放到西
拉斯姨夫的上衣口袋里。萨莉姨妈还没有到，我们只得等一会儿。
    她一来，便气呼呼的，脸涨得通红，一肚子火，几乎连做感恩祷告都等不及似的。随后
她一只手端起咖啡壶哗哗地给大家倒咖啡，一只手用套在手指上的顶针给身边最近的一个孩
子脑袋上一个爆栗，一边说：
    “我上天入地找了个遍，也没有找到。你那另一件衬衫怎么一回事啦？”
    我的心往下一沉，沉到了五脏六肺的底下去了。一块掰下的玉米饼皮刚进我的喉咙，可
在半路上一声咳嗽，啪地喷了出来，刚巧打中了对面一个孩子的眼睛，疼得他弓起身子象条
鱼虫，疼得他哇地一声大叫。这一声啊，可比得上印地安人打仗时的吼叫声。汤姆的脸色马
上发青，大约有十五秒钟这么久，情势可称非常严重。这时候啊，我恨不得有个地缝好钻。
不过在这以后，一切重归于平静——刚才是事出突然，害得我们吓得慌了神。西拉斯姨父说：
    “这太过于离奇啦，我委实弄不懂。我记得清清楚楚，明明是我脱了下来，因为——”
    “因为你身上只穿了一件。听听这个人说的什么话！我知道你脱了下来，知道得比你那
个晕晕沉沉的脑袋还清楚些。因为昨天还在晾衣绳上——我亲眼看到的。可是却不见啦——
说长道短，一句话，便是这回事。现在你只好换那件法兰绒红衬衫，等我有工夫再给你做一
件新的。等做好的话，那就是两年当中给你做的第三件了。为了你穿的衬衫，就得有人忙个
不停。你这些衬衫是怎么穿的，我实在弄不懂。这么大年纪，你也该学着点管管好了吧。”
    “这我懂，萨莉，我何尝不注意。不过这不能光怪我嘛。你知道，除了穿在身上的以
外，我既见不到，也管不着嘛。再说，就是从我身上脱下来的，我看我也从没有丢掉过
啊。”“好吧，西拉斯，要是你没有丢过，那就不是你的过错了——依我看，你要是存心丢
的话，你是会丢的。再说，丢的也不光是衬衫啊。还有一把调羹不见了，而且还不只是这
个。原本是十把，如今却只有九把。我看，是牛犊子搞走了衬衫，不过牛犊子可决不会搞走
调羹啊，这是断得定的。”
    “啊，还丢了什么，萨莉？”
    “六根蜡烛不见啦——这是怎么回事。耗子能叼走蜡烛，我看是耗子叼走的。我一直奇
怪，它们怎么没有把这儿全家都给叼走，——凭了你那套习性，说什么要把耗子洞全都堵
死，可就是光说不做。耗子也实在蠢，要不，耗子真会在你头发窝里睡觉了。西拉斯——而
你也不会发觉。不过嘛，总不能怪耗子叼走了调羹吧，这我有数。”
    “啊，萨莉，是我有错，这我承认。我疏忽大意了。不过我明天准会把洞给堵死。”
    “哦，我看不用急，明年还来得及嘛，玛蒂尔达安吉里娜·阿拉明达·费尔贝斯！”
    顶针叭地一敲，那个女孩赶紧把爪子从糖盆子缩了回去。
    正在这时，黑女奴走上了回廊说：
    “太太，一条床单不见了。”
    “一条床单不见了？啊，老天啊！”
    “我今天就去把耗子洞给堵死。”西拉斯姨父说，一脸愁苦相。
    “哦，给我闭嘴！——难道你以为是耗子叼走床单，丢到哪里了，莉兹？”
    “天啊，我实在不知道，萨莉太太。昨天还挂在晒衣绳子上，可就是不见了，已经不在
那儿啦。”
    “我看是到了世界末日啦。我一生当中，从没见过这样的日子。一件衬衫，一条床单，
还有一把调羹，还有六根蜡——”
    “太太，”来了一个年轻的黑白混血儿丫头，“一只铜烛台不见了。”
    “你们这些娘儿们，给我滚，要不，我可要骂你们一顿啦。”
    她正在火头上。我想找个空子，偷偷出去，到林子里一钻，等风头过去。她却一直在发
作个不停，光她一个人几乎闹翻了天，大伙儿一个个缩头缩脑，不则一声。后来，西拉斯姨
父，那样子傻呼呼的，从自己口袋里东摸摸、西摸摸，摸出了一把调羹。她马上停住了，嘴
巴张得大大的，举起了双手。我呢，恨不得往地缝里钻。不过，没多久就好了，因为她说：
    “不出我的所料。啊，调羹一直在你的口袋里，这样说来，别的一些东西也在你手里
吧。调羹怎么会到了你的口袋里呢？”
    “我确实不知道啊，萨莉，”他带着道歉的口气说。“不然的话，我早就会说了。早饭
以前，我正在研读新约第十七章①。我想我是无意之中放了进去，还以为放的是新约呢。肯
定是这样，因为新约不在这里。不过我倒要去看一下，看新约在不在我原来放的地方。我知
道我并没有把调羹放进口袋里。这样会表明，我把新约放在了原处，拿起了调羹，随后—
—”“哦，天啊，让人家清静一下吧！出去！你们这些讨厌鬼，连大带小，都给我出去，在
我静下心来以前，别来打搅我。”    ①诺顿版注：《新约·使徒行传》写书中的赛拉斯被罗马长官“下在监牢里”，马克·吐温意在讥刺本书中的赛拉斯把黑奴关了起来。《文库》本注：马克·吐温认为《使徒行传》谴责奴隶制。

我听到了她说的话。要是她这是自言自语，我也能听得清，更何况这是说出了口的了。我便站了起来，听从了她的话。即便我是个死人吧，我也会这么干的。我们穿过起居间的时候，老人他拿起了帽子，小钉子便掉到了地板上。他只是捡了起来，放在了壁炉架上，没有则声，便走了出去。汤姆亲眼看到了他这些动作，想起了调羹的事，便说：“啊，通过他送东西是不行了，他靠不住。”随后又说，“不过嘛，他那调羹无意之中帮了我们的忙。所以我们也要在无意之中帮他一回忙——堵住那些耗子洞。”在地窖里，耗子洞可真不少啊，我们花了整整一个钟头才堵完。不过我们堵得严严实实，堵得又好，又整齐。随后我们听到梯子上有声音在下来，便把我们的蜡烛吹熄了，躲了起来。这时老人下来了，一手举起了一支蜡烛，另一只手里拿着堵耗子洞的东西，那神情有点儿心不在焉的模样，就跟一年前一个样。他呆呆地查看了一个耗子洞，又呆呆地查看另一个耗子洞，又查看另一个，后来把一个个都查看遍了。随后他站在那里，有五分钟之久，一边掰掉了蜡烛滴下的烛油，一边在思索。随后他慢吞吞地、仿佛在睡梦中似地走上梯子，一边在说：“啊，天啊，我可记不得曾在什么时候堵过了。如今我能跟她表明，那耗子的事可怪不得我。不过算了——随它去吧。我看啊，说了也不管什么用。”这样，他就自言自语上了梯子，我们也就走开了。他可是个老好人啊。他从来如此。汤姆为了再找一把调羹，可费了不少事。不过他说，我们非得找把调羹，便开动了脑筋。等他一想出了办法，他就把我们该怎么办的路子对我说了。随后我们在放调羹的篮子边上等着，等到萨莉阿姨走过来。汤姆走过去数数调羹，随后把调羹放在一边，我呢，乘机偷偷地拿了一把，放在袖口里。汤姆说：“啊，萨莉阿姨，只有九把啊。”她说：“玩你的去吧，别打搅我，我有数，我亲自数了的。”“嗯，我数了两遍了，阿姨，我数来数去只有九把。”她那神气显得很不耐烦。不过，她当然走过来又重数了一遍。谁都会这么做嘛。“我向老天爷声明，只有九把啦”她说。“啊，天啊，——倒底是怎么回事啊，——是瘟神拿走啦。让我再点一遍。”我把我刚拿走的一把偷偷放了回去。她点完以后说道：“这些破烂货，尽捣蛋，滚它的，如今明明是十把啊。”她显得又气又烦恼。不过汤姆说：“啊，阿姨，我看不是十把。”“你这糊涂虫，你刚才不是看着我数的么？”“我知道，不过——”“好吧，我再数一遍。”我又偷掉了一把。结果是九把，跟刚才的一回一个样。啊，这一下她可真火了——简直浑身直抖。她气痛了。不过她还是数了又数，数得头昏眼花，甚至把那只篮子也数作一把调羹，数来数去，有三回数对了，另外三回却又数得不对了。随后她伸手抓起那只篮子，往屋子对面一扔，正好扔在那只猫身上，打得它魂飞魄散。她叫我们走开去，让她安静一会儿。要是从现在这一刻到吃饭这段时间里，我们敢来打搅她，她要剥我们的皮。这样，我们就得了那把作怪的调羹，趁她给我们发出开路的命令时，把调羹放进了她围裙口袋里。杰姆也就在中午以前得了调羹，还连同那只小钉。这一次的事叫我们非常满意。汤姆认为再花一倍的麻烦也值得，因为他说，如今啊，她为了自己保命起见，从此再也不会数调羹啦。即使再数吧，她也不会相信自己是数对了。往后三天里，她还会再数，数得自己晕头转向，从此便不会再数了。谁要是叫她再数调羹，那她非要跟这人拼命不可。所以我们就在那天夜里，把床单放回晒衣绳子上，另外在衣柜里偷了一条，就这样放放偷偷，有好几天之久。到后来，她也弄不清自己究竟有几条床单，还说反正她也不操这份心了，也不想为了这个白费劲啦。为了多活几天，也不愿再数啦，不然的话，她宁愿死了拉倒。这样，我们如今就太平无事啦。衬衫啊，床单啊，调羹啊，还有蜡烛啊什么的，靠了牛犊子、耗子和点数目的一笔胡涂账，就这样全都混过去了。至于蜡烛台，那无关紧要，慢慢也会混过去的。不过馅饼的事倒是个难题。为了馅饼，我们可受累无穷。我们在下边老远的树林子里做好了，随后在那里烘焙，最后终算做成了，并且叫人非常满意。不过，并非一日之功就能做成的。我们用了满满三面盆面粉才做成的，并且烤得我们伤痕累累，眼睛几乎给浓烟熏瞎。因为，你知道，我们要用的只是那张酥皮，可是这酥皮总是撑不起来，老是往下陷。不过，后来我们终于找到了解决的办法，那就是把绳梯放在馅饼里一块儿烘。于是在第二天晚上，我们到了杰姆的屋里，把床单全撕成一小条一小条，搓在一起，远在天亮前就搞出了一根美美的绳索，用来绞死一个人也行。我们“只当是”花了九个月时间才做成了的。在上午，我们把这个带到了下边的树林子里，不过馅饼包不住这绳索。既然是用整整一张床单做的，绳索就够四十个馅饼用的，如果我们真要做那么多的话。此外还有大量剩余的，可以用来做汤、做香肠或者别的你爱吃的东西都成。总之足够一顿筵席用的了。不过我们并不需要这些。我们所需要的，就光只是放在馅饼里的，所以我们把多余的都扔掉了。我们并没有在洗衣盆里烘饼，深怕盆的焊锡见火会化。西拉斯姨父有一把珍贵的铜暖炉，是他珍爱之物，因为这有木头长把子的炉，是他的一个祖先随着征服者威廉坐“五月花”之类早先的船只从英格兰带来的，他一直把它和其它珍贵的古物藏在顶楼上。珍藏的原因倒不是因为有什么价值，它们并无什么价值，但却是因为这些是古董。我们把它偷偷弄了出来，带到下边的树林子里。烘开头几次馅饼时失败了，因为我们开头不得法，不过最后还是成功了。我们先把炉底和炉边铺了一层生面团，把炉子放在煤火上，再放上一团布索子在里面，上面加一层面团，把它罩住，盖上炉盖子，上面放一层滚烫的煤炭。我们站在五英尺之外，握着长长的木把子，既凉快，又舒服。十五分钟以后，馅饼就成了，看起来也叫人挺舒服。不过嘛，吃这个馅饼的人得带好几桶牙签才行，因为要不是馅饼会把他的牙缝塞得结结实实，那就是说我是在胡说八道了。再说，一吃以后，准会叫他肚子疼得止不住。我们把魔法般的馅饼放进杰姆的锅里时，纳特并没有看一眼。我们又把三只白铁盘子放在锅底上饭食下面。这样，这一切杰姆都拿到了手。当只剩他一个大的时候，他立刻把馅饼掰开了，把绳梯塞在草垫子里。还在洋铁皮盘子底上划了一些记号，随后从窗洞里扔了出去。