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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Mark Twain

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Huck looked into the old man’s honest eyes a moment, then bent over and whispered in his ear:

 

“Well, I never! There’s no getting round it, you can work when you’re a mind to, Tom.” And then she diluted the compliment by adding, “But it’s powerful seldom you’re a mind to, I’m bound to say. Well, go ’long and play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I’ll tan you.”

 

Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He was in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got to sleep. All the village flocked to the courthouse the next morning, for this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented in the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and took their places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all the curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous was Injun Joe, stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and the sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings among the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. These details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation that was as impressive as it was fascinating.

 

“Might! Better say we would! There’s some lucky days, maybe, but Friday ain’t.”

 

“Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What is that truck?”

 

By-and-by the gladness in the faces of the populace changed a little, and became touched with a something like solicitude or anxiety:  an abatement in the volume of the applause was observable too.  The Lord Protector was quick to notice these things:  he was as quick to detect the cause.  He spurred to the King’s side, bent low in his saddle, uncovered, and said—

 

“Half a dozen will better serve his turn,” suggested Sir Hugh, who had ridden up, a moment before, to take a passing glance at the proceedings.

 

Let us change the tense for convenience.  The time drifted along—one hour—two hours—two hours and a half; then the deep booming of artillery told that the King and his grand procession had arrived at last; so the waiting multitude rejoiced.  All knew that a further delay must follow, for the King must be prepared and robed for the solemn ceremony; but this delay would be pleasantly occupied by the assembling of the peers of the realm in their stately robes.  These were conducted ceremoniously to their seats, and their coronets placed conveniently at hand; and meanwhile the multitude in the galleries were alive with interest, for most of them were beholding for the first time, dukes, earls, and barons, whose names had been historical for five hundred years.  When all were finally seated, the spectacle from the galleries and all coigns of vantage was complete; a gorgeous one to look upon and to remember.

 

The rest was lost in inarticulate mutterings.  The old man sank upon his knees, his knife in his hand, and bent himself over the moaning boy.

 

The little King started, wide-eyed with consternation, but controlled himself and held his peace; but not so the woman.  She sprang to her feet, shaking with fright, and cried out—

 

“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 de bill do b’long to, en han’ it over to de right one, all safe en soun’, de way dat anybody dat had any gumption would? No; I take en whack de 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 dat half a bill?—can’t buy noth’n wid it. En what use is a half a chile? I wouldn’ give a dern for a million un um.”

 

“The door ain’t going to be locked, Tom, and there’s the window and the rod; but you’ll be good, won’t you? And you won’t go? For my sake.”

 

“But looky here, Huck, who wuz it dat ’uz killed in dat shanty ef it warn’t you?”

 

“Gets it the way people down here gets Congress-water—in barrels. There in the palace at Sheffield they’ve got furnaces, and he wants his water hot. They can’t bile that amount of water away off there at the sea. They haven’t got no conveniences for it.”

 

“Well, then, come along; no use to take truck and leave money.”

 

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