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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Mark Twain

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“And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and you told about Peter and the Pain-killer—”

 

“I didn’t do it, friends,” he sobbed; “’pon my word and honor I never done it.”

 

The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross rock.

 

“Now it’s all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain’t ever to love anybody but me, and you ain’t ever to marry anybody but me, ever never and forever. Will you?”

 

The Welshman’s sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room Huck sprang up and exclaimed:

 

A sharp pressure upon Tom’s arm stopped his foolish tongue and sent a blush to his face; but no countenance there betrayed any sign that this strange speech had been remarked or given concern.

 

He muttered some broken sentences, still gazing and marvelling; then turned his eyes around and about, scanning the gorgeous throng and the splendid saloon, murmuring, “But these are real—verily these are real—surely it is not a dream.”

 

By-and-by he saw the officer coming again, in a great hurry; so he plucked his courage together, purposing to meet his trouble as became a man.  The officer ordered the men to loose the prisoner and return his sword to him; then bowed respectfully, and said—

 

{1}  For Mark Twain’s note see below under the relevant chapter heading.

 

“We, forsooth!  Follow thy trade—it befits thee.  But I will not beg.”

 

And so they went on chatting, and poor Marget forgot her sorrow for one little while, anyway. It was probably the only really bright and cheery hour she had known lately. I saw she liked Philip, and I knew she would. And when he told her he was studying for the ministry I could see that she liked him better than ever. And then, when he promised to get her admitted to the jail so that she could see her uncle, that was the capstone. He said he would give the guards a little present, and she must always go in the evening after dark, and say nothing, “but just show this paper and pass in, and show it again when you come out”—and he scribbled some queer marks on the paper and gave it to her, and she was ever so thankful, and right away was in a fever for the sun to go down; for in that old, cruel time prisoners were not allowed to see their friends, and sometimes they spent years in the jails without ever seeing a friendly face. I judged that the marks on the paper were an enchantment, and that the guards would not know what they were doing, nor have any memory of it afterward; and that was indeed the way of it. Ursula put her head in at the door now and said:

 

It threw some light, but not a glare, and I was a little disappointed, also to some degree embarrassed. He was waiting for me to go on, so, in default of anything else to say, I asked, “Is it valuable?”

 

There it was, you see. He didn't seem to know any way to do a person a favor except by killing him or making a lunatic out of him. I apologized, as well as I could; but privately I did not think much of his processes—at that time.

 

“Away from here! Clear out, you dogs; the tree is on my lands and is my property.”

 

“That is so,” said the others, and let their mouths go shut.

 

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