Then he
turned around again and said it was a good enough arrangement, and we was
satisfied if Jim was. Jim said he was.
So then Tom measured off our two-tenths in the bow and left the rest for
Jim, and it surprised Jim a good deal to see how much difference there
was and what a raging lot of sand his share come to, and said he was
powerful glad now that he had spoke up in time and got the first
arrangement altered, for he said that even the way it was now, there was
more sand than enjoyment in his end of the contract, he believed.
Then we laid into it. It was mighty hot work, and tough; so hot we had to
move up into cooler weather or we couldn't 'a' stood it. Me and Tom took
turn about, and one worked while t'other rested, but there warn't nobody
to spell poor old Jim, and he made all that part of Africa damp, he
sweated so. We couldn't work good, we was so full of laugh, and Jim he
kept fretting and wanting to know what tickled us so, and we had to keep
making up things to account for it, and they was pretty poor inventions,
but they done well enough, Jim didn't see through them. At last when we
got done we was 'most dead, but not with work but with laughing. By and
by Jim was 'most dead, too, but: it was with work; then we took turns and
spelled him, and he was as thankfull as he could be, and would set on the
gunnel and swab the sweat, and heave and pant, and say how good we was to
a poor old nigger, and he wouldn't ever forgit us.
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