cold, and not eating anything. And by and by the old man says: “Did I give you the letter?” “What letter?” “The one I got yesterday out of the post-office.” “No, you didn't give me no letter.” “Well, I must a forgot it.” So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had laid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her.  She says: “Why, it's from St. Petersburg--it's from Sis.” I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn't stir.  But before she could break it open she dropped it and run--for she see something. And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress; and that old doctor; and Jim, in _her_ calico dress, with his hands tied behind him; and a lot of people.  I hid the letter behind the first thing that come handy, and rushed.  She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says: “Oh, he's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead!” And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, which showed he warn't in his right mind; then she flung up her hands, and says: “He's alive, thank God!  And that's enough!” and she snatched a kiss of him, and flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering orders right and left at the niggers and everybody else, as fast as her tongue could go, every jump of the way. I followed the men to see what they was going to do with Jim; and the old doctor and Uncle Silas followed after Tom into the house.  The men was very huffy, and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example to all the other niggers around there, so they wouldn't be trying to run away like Jim done, and making such a raft of trouble, and keeping a whole family scared most to death for days and nights.  But the others said, don't do it, it wouldn't answer at all; he ain't our nigger, and his owner would turn up and make us pay for him, sure.  So that cooled them down a little, because the people that's always the most anxious for to hang a nigger that hain't done just right is always the very ones that ain't the most an