out for themselves--it's their lookout.” “Yes, I know; but you can't depend on them.  It's the way they've acted from the very start--left us to do _everything_.  They're so confiding and mullet-headed they don't take notice of nothing at all.  So if we don't _give_ them notice there won't be nobody nor nothing to interfere with us, and so after all our hard work and trouble this escape 'll go off perfectly flat; won't amount to nothing--won't be nothing _to_ it.” “Well, as for me, Tom, that's the way I'd like.” “Shucks!” he says, and looked disgusted.  So I says: “But I ain't going to make no complaint.  Any way that suits you suits me. What you going to do about the servant-girl?” “You'll be her.  You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook that yaller girl's frock.” “Why, Tom, that 'll make trouble next morning; because, of course, she prob'bly hain't got any but that one.” “I know; but you don't want it but fifteen minutes, to carry the nonnamous letter and shove it under the front door.” “All right, then, I'll do it; but I could carry it just as handy in my own togs.” “You wouldn't look like a servant-girl _then_, would you?” “No, but there won't be nobody to see what I look like, _anyway_.” “That ain't got nothing to do with it.  The thing for us to do is just to do our _duty_, and not worry about whether anybody _sees_ us do it or not. Hain't you got no principle at all?” “All right, I ain't saying nothing; I'm the servant-girl.  Who's Jim's mother?” “I'm his mother.  I'll hook a gown from Aunt Sally.” “Well, then, you'll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves.” “Not much.  I'll stuff Jim's clothes full of straw and lay it on his bed to represent his mother in disguise, and Jim 'll take the nigger woman's gown off of me and wear it, and we'll all evade together.  When a prisoner of style escapes it's called an evasion.  It's always called so when a king escapes, f'rinstance.  And the same with a king's son; it don't make no di