Приключения Гекльберри Финна

Chapter 8

           Theriverwasamilewidethere,anditalwayslooksprettyonasummermorning—soIwashavingagoodenoughtimeseeingthemhuntformyremaindersifIonlyhadabitetoeat.Well,thenIhappenedtothinkhowtheyalwaysputquicksilverinloavesofbreadandfloatthemoff,becausetheyalwaysgorighttothedrowndedcarcassandstopthere.So,saysI,I’llkeepalookout,andifanyofthem’sfloatingaroundaftermeI’llgivethemashow.IchangedtotheIllinoisedgeoftheislandtoseewhatluckIcouldhave,andIwarn’tdisappointed.Abigdoubleloafcomealong,andImostgotitwithalongstick,butmyfootslippedandshefloatedoutfurther.OfcourseIwaswherethecurrentsetintheclosesttotheshore—Iknowedenoughforthat.Butbyandbyalongcomesanotherone,andthistimeIwon.Itookouttheplugandshookoutthelittledabofquicksilver,andsetmyteethin.Itwas"baker’sbread"—whatthequalityeat;noneofyourlow-downcorn-pone.

           Igotagoodplaceamongsttheleaves,andsetthereonalog,munchingthebreadandwatchingtheferry-boat,andverywellsatisfied.Andthensomethingstruckme.Isays,nowIreckonthewidowortheparsonorsomebodyprayedthatthisbreadwouldfindme,andhereithasgoneanddoneit.Sothereain’tnodoubtbutthereissomethinginthatthing—thatis,there’ssomethinginitwhenabodylikethewidowortheparsonprays,butitdon’tworkforme,andIreckonitdon’tworkforonlyjusttherightkind.

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