“Oh, boys, let’s give it up. I want to go home. It’s so lonesome.”
“Oh no, Joe, you’ll feel better by and by,” said Tom. “Just think of the fishing that’s here.”
“I don’t care for fishing. I want to go home.”
“But, Joe, there ain’t such another swimming-place anywhere.”
“Swimming’s no good. I don’t seem to care for it, somehow, when there ain’t anybody to say I sha’n’t go in. I mean to go home.”
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“Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon.”
“Yes, I do want to see my mother — and you would, too, if you had one. I ain’t any more baby than you are.” And Joe snuffled a little.
“Well, we’ll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won’t we, Huck? Poor thing — does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like it here, don’t you, Huck? We’ll stay, won’t we?”
Huck said, “Y-e-s” — without any heart in it.
“I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live,” said Joe, rising. “There now!” And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.
“Who cares!” said Tom. “Nobody wants you to. Go ‘long home and get laughed at. Oh, you’re a nice pirate. Huck and me ain’t cry-babies. We’ll stay, won’t we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get along without him, per’aps.”
But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying Joe’s preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade off toward the Illinois shore. Tom’s heart began to sink. He glanced at Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:
“I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now it’ll be worse. Let’s us go, too, Tom.”
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“I won’t! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay.”
“Tom, I better go.”
“Well, go ‘long — who’s hendering you.”
Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said:
“Tom, I wisht you’d come, too. Now you think it over. We’ll wait for you when we get to shore.”
“Well, you’ll wait a blame long time, that’s all.”
Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too. He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He made one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his comrades, yelling:
“Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!”
They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they were, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till at last they saw the “point” he was driving at, and then they set up a war-whoop of applause and said it was “splendid!” and said if he had told them at first, they wouldn’t have started away. He made a plausible excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction.
The lads came gayly back and went at their sports
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again with a will, chattering all the time about Tom’s stupendous plan and admiring the genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never smoked anything before but cigars made of grape-vine, and they “bit” the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway.
Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said:
“Why, it’s just as easy! If I’d a knowed this was all, I’d a learnt long ago.”