on looking around.” Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank.  It was as long as the hut, but narrow--only about six foot wide.  The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked.  Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples.  The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn't no connection with it; and there warn't no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow.  The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful.  He says; “Now we're all right.  We'll _dig_ him out.  It 'll take about a week!” Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door--you only have to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don't fasten the doors--but that warn't romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must climb up the lightning-rod.  But after he got up half way about three times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted his brains out, he thought he'd got to give it up; but after he was rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time he made the trip. In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins to pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jim--if it _was_ Jim that was being fed.  The niggers was just getting through breakfast and starting for the fields; and Jim's nigger was piling up a tin pan with bread and meat and things; and whilst the others was leaving, the key come from the house. This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread.  That was to keep witches off.  He