off the chain.  And Uncle Silas he trusts everybody; sends the key to the punkin-headed nigger, and don't send nobody to watch the nigger.  Jim could a got out of that window-hole before this, only there wouldn't be no use trying to travel with a ten-foot chain on his leg.  Why, drat it, Huck, it's the stupidest arrangement I ever see. You got to invent _all_ the difficulties.  Well, we can't help it; we got to do the best we can with the materials we've got. Anyhow, there's one thing--there's more honor in getting him out through a lot of difficulties and dangers, where there warn't one of them furnished to you by the people who it was their duty to furnish them, and you had to contrive them all out of your own head.  Now look at just that one thing of the lantern.  When you come down to the cold facts, we simply got to _let on_ that a lantern's resky.  Why, we could work with a torchlight procession if we wanted to, I believe.  Now, whilst I think of it, we got to hunt up something to make a saw out of the first chance we get.” “What do we want of a saw?” “What do we _want_ of it?  Hain't we got to saw the leg of Jim's bed off, so as to get the chain loose?” “Why, you just said a body could lift up the bedstead and slip the chain off.” “Well, if that ain't just like you, Huck Finn.  You _can_ get up the infant-schooliest ways of going at a thing.  Why, hain't you ever read any books at all?--Baron Trenck, nor Casanova, nor Benvenuto Chelleeny, nor Henri IV., nor none of them heroes?  Who ever heard of getting a prisoner loose in such an old-maidy way as that?  No; the way all the best authorities does is to saw the bed-leg in two, and leave it just so, and swallow the sawdust, so it can't be found, and put some dirt and grease around the sawed place so the very keenest seneskal can't see no sign of it's being sawed, and thinks the bed-leg is perfectly sound. Then, the night you're ready, fetch the leg a kick, down she goes; slip off your chain, and there you