"Tom Sawyer"
by Mark Twain

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     "Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said.

     "It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving.

     "What did you do it for?"

     "I! I never done it!"

     "Look here! That kind of talk won't wash."

     Potter trembled and grew white.


     "I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it's in my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle; can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--honest, now, old feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him so young and promising."

     "Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til now."

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