k’yer what de widder say, he _warn’t_ no wise man nuther. He had some er de dad-fetchedes’ ways I ever see. Does you know ’bout dat chile that he ’uz gwyne to chop in two?" "Yes, the widow told me all about it." "_Well_, den! Warn’ dat de beatenes’ notion in de worl’? You jes’ take en look at it a minute. Dah’s de stump, dah—dat’s one er de women; heah’s you—dat’s de yuther one; I’s Sollermun; en dish yer dollar bill’s de chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does I do? Does I shin aroun’ mongs’ de neighbors en fine out which un you the bill _do_ b’long to, en han’ it over to de right one, all safe en soun’, the way that anybody that had any gumption would? No; I take en whack the bill in _two_, en give half un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dat’s de way Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast you: what’s de use er that half a bill?—can’t buy noth’n wid it. En what use is a half a chile? I wouldn’t give a dern for a million un um." "But hang it, Jim, you’ve clean missed the point—blame it, you’ve missed it a thousand mile." "Who? Me? Go ’long. Doan’ talk to _me_ ’bout yo’ pints. I reck’n I knows sense when I sees it; en dey ain’ no sense in sich doin’s as dat. De ’spute warn’t ’bout a half a chile, de ’spute was ’bout a whole chile; en de man that think he kin settle a ’spute ’bout a whole chile wid a half a chile doan’ know enough to come in out’n de rain. Doan’ talk to me ’bout Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back." "But I tell you you don’t get the point." "Blame de point! I reck’n I knows what I knows. En mine you, de _real_ pint is down furder—it’s down deeper. It lays in de way Sollermun was raised. You take a man that’s got on’y one or two chillen; is that man gwyne to be waseful o’ chillen? No, he ain’t; he can’t ’ford it. _He_ know how to value ’em. But you take a man that’s got ’bout five million chillen runnin’ roun’ de house, en it’s diffunt. _He_ as soon chop a chile in two as a cat. Dey’s plenty mo’. A chile er two, mo’ er less, warn’t no consekens to Sollermun, dad fatch him!" I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once, there warn’t no getting it out again. He was the most down on Solomon of any nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other kings, and let Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off in France long time ago; and about his little boy the dolphin, that would a been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died there. "Po’ little chap." "But some says he got out and got away, and come to America." "Dat’s good! But he’ll be pooty lonesome—dey ain’ no kings here, is dey, Huck?" "No." "Den he cain’t git no situation. What he gwyne to do?" "Well, I don’t know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns 

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