know--and there's your horses and your trusty vassles, and they scoop you up and fling you across a saddle, and away you go to your native Langudoc, or Navarre, or wherever it is. It's gaudy, Huck.  I wish there was a moat to this cabin. If we get time, the night of the escape, we'll dig one.” I says: “What do we want of a moat when we're going to snake him out from under the cabin?” But he never heard me.  He had forgot me and everything else.  He had his chin in his hand, thinking.  Pretty soon he sighs and shakes his head; then sighs again, and says: “No, it wouldn't do--there ain't necessity enough for it.” “For what?”  I says. “Why, to saw Jim's leg off,” he says. “Good land!”  I says; “why, there ain't _no_ necessity for it.  And what would you want to saw his leg off for, anyway?” “Well, some of the best authorities has done it.  They couldn't get the chain off, so they just cut their hand off and shoved.  And a leg would be better still.  But we got to let that go.  There ain't necessity enough in this case; and, besides, Jim's a nigger, and wouldn't understand the reasons for it, and how it's the custom in Europe; so we'll let it go.  But there's one thing--he can have a rope ladder; we can tear up our sheets and make him a rope ladder easy enough.  And we can send it to him in a pie; it's mostly done that way.  And I've et worse pies.” “Why, Tom Sawyer, how you talk,” I says; “Jim ain't got no use for a rope ladder.” “He _has_ got use for it.  How _you_ talk, you better say; you don't know nothing about it.  He's _got_ to have a rope ladder; they all do.” “What in the nation can he _do_ with it?” “_Do_ with it?  He can hide it in his bed, can't he?”  That's what they all do; and _he's_ got to, too.  Huck, you don't ever seem to want to do anything that's regular; you want to be starting something fresh all the time. S'pose he _don't_ do nothing with it? ain't it there in his bed, for a clew, after he's gone? and don't you reckon they'll want c