Michael Munas (michaelboy) wrote,
Michael Munas
michaelboy

Allowed

More than others, you are made of dirt and earth and this is a part of you which I find feminine and irresistible. After you mow an acre of grass or at the end of other tough work, I think of how good you smell in that paint-stained shirt that you sometimes wear as you wander the yard without shoes. Since we’re already old, I cannot say “I want to grow old with you”, but hopefully we’ll have a few years more. I know either of us could be run over by a turnip truck, but I rather it it would be me, rather than you if I could allow it.




"Sometimes we’d have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water; and maybe a spark—which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water you could see a spark or two—on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. It’s lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to MAKE so many. Jim said the moon could a LAID them; well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn’t say nothing against it, because I’ve seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim allowed they’d got spoiled and was hove out of the nest.
Once or twice of a night we would see a steamboat slipping along in the dark, and now and then she would belch a whole world of sparks up out of her chimbleys, and they would rain down in the river and look awful pretty; then she would turn a corner and her lights would wink out and her powwow shut off and leave the river still again; and by and by her waves would get to us, a long time after she was gone, and joggle the raft a bit, and after that you wouldn’t hear nothing for you couldn’t tell how long, except maybe frogs or something."
~ From: “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”, Mark Twain
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