dat open innerds—jis' den, 'long come de wind en slam it to, hehine de chile, ker-blam!—en my lan', de chile never more'! My breff mos' hop outer me; en I feel so—so—I doan' know how I feel. I crope out, all a-tremblin', en crope aroun' en open de do' easy en slow, en poke my head in bebine de chile, sof' en still, en all uv a sudden, I says pow! jis' as loud as I could yell. She never budge! Oh, Huck, I bust out a-cryin' en grab her up in my arms, en say, 'Oh, de po' little thing! de Lord God Amighty fogive po' ole Jim, kaze be never gwyne to fogive hisself as long's he live!' Oh, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb decf en dumb—en I'd ben a-treatin her so!"