Huck Finn chapters 28-32
Huck has some moral dilemmas about telling the truth:
I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, though I ain’t had no experience, and can’t say for certain; but it looks so to me, anyway; and yet here’s a case where I’m blest if it don’t look to me like the truth is better and actuly SAFER than a lie. I must lay it by in my mind, and think it over some time or other, it’s so kind of strange and unregular. I never see nothing like it. Well, I says to myself at last, I’m a-going to chance it; I’ll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem most like setting down on a kag of powder and touching it off just to see where you’ll go to.
Hmm, what a strange idea . . . let’s try TELLING THE TRUTH for once! Maybe because she’s such a pretty girl, or maybe because Huck’s compassion is taking over, he tells Mary Jane everything about her “uncles” who are frauds, and how they can rectify everything.
I love this line when he tells her the truth: “Don’t you holler. Just set still and take it like a man.”
And when she says she’ll pray for him, he thinks, Pray for me! I reckoned if she knowed me she’d take a job that was more nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the same—she was just that kind.
So after the auction and sale, here come the REAL UNCLES–uh-oh. After interrogations, and attempts to match signatures, it’s a tattoo that gets them into trouble. (I don’t know if this is an argument for or against tattoos . . .) To settle the argument, they decide to dig up the corpse. Let’s party! Seriously, these people are so starved for real entertainment they’ll cheer about anything. (Please don’t let yourselves get to this point during your quarantine.)
They dig it up–with too many people to help–and find the bag of gold, so I guess it is a good thing they dug him back up. (Again, do NOT try this at home!)
In the commotion, Huck escapes and runs back to where the raft had been hiding with Jim, who he’s thrilled to see again (but forgets momentarily he’s still dressed as King Lear/Sick Arab, which most scared “the livers and lights out of me.” (We need to be using these lines in our regular talk!)
Oh, but here come the king and duke, heading over to their skiff. Can’t shake these goobers! Huck’s ready to start crying. But now the con men are at each other, each thinking the other hid the money in the coffin.

After arguing, then drinking, then making up, they fall asleep.
The drift for a few days, then pull over again for the duke and king to try a few more cons on the people (yellocution is elocution: speaking properly, just in case you were wondering). But none of it is going well, and soon they run out of money.
So the king decides to sell their last “asset”–Jim. Huck finds out only later. Supposedly the king could have gotten $200 for Jim, nearly $6,000. But the king is desperate and sells him for only $40, or about $1200.
This chapter is always so galling to me: they’ve gotten to know Jim a bit, yet when desperate, there’s no thought to just selling him, and at a discount to boot.
Do you think there’s some significance to Twain referring to these two con men only by their assumed titles, as if suggesting those with “royalty” titles are shallow, manipulative, and cruel to those who are under them? And when convenient, you can easily just toss another human aside? (I’d never considered this until today, as I was writing this up. Tell me what you think.)
Huck, trying to find a way to fix this, thinks of writing Miss Watson back home to find Jim and get him back to where his family is, at least. But then realizes they’d make his life miserable for running off.
So Huck tries to pray about it, which reminds me so much of King Claudius trying to pray, that I’m sure Twain was influenced (we already saw he was familiar with Hamlet).
And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I couldn’t try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I kneeled down. But the words wouldn’t come. Why wouldn’t they? It warn’t no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from ME, neither. I knowed very well why they wouldn’t come. It was because my heart warn’t right; it was because I warn’t square; it was because I was playing double. I was letting ON to give up sin, but away inside of me I was holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth SAY I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that nigger’s owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was a lie, and He knowed it. You can’t pray a lie—I found that out
We haven’t talked much about irony in here, but it abounds in this book! And one of the greatest ironies is that northern states had churches and leaders who were devoted to trying to free slaves, who believed God wanted them to end slavery. If Huck had known that–had that understanding of God (which he hasn’t, because he was taught only odd snippets here and there)–that God wasn’t essentially chasing him down to make him feel guilty, his decisions would have been so much easier! Huck has it all backwards, the poor kid.
But he’s trying to do the “correct” thing, and he’s almost always doing it.
He writes the letter, believing that’s “right,” then has second thoughts. Jim has been better than everyone, and so good to Huck. He’s realizing that society is wrong about slaves (and he unfortunately lumps God into that group as well) and makes a hugely brave decision:
He’s going to go against all of society (and even God, he thinks) when he declares, “All right, then, I’ll go to hell,” and tears up the letter. The irony is, God would approve. Of everyone Huck has encountered, he’s probably the only one along with Jim who is NOT going to hell. And yes, Twain wanted people to see that. This boy has it right, while everyone else has it backwards.
Naturally, the duke tells Huck he’d come to think of Jim as his slave–never mind they never paid for him–so they didn’t feel any qualms about selling him, out from under Huck. Notice something else here: children have no rights. Adults can do whatever they want to children. Again, Twain was appalled.
So Huck heads off to the Phelps’ farm, where Jim has been sold. He’s going to get him back and let him be free again. It may take some lying . . .
Then again, Huck says, “I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting to Providence to put the right words in my mouth when the time come; for I’d noticed that Providence always did put the right words in my mouth if I left it alone.” (Do you think he realizes that Providence is just another name for God?)
So the family comes to greet him, Aunt Sally and everyone–wait a minute. These are Tom Sawyer’s relatives, and they think Huck is Tom! Ooh, this could go either really well, or really awful. Because this means Tom Sawyer is on his way there. (Told you he’d be coming back. Oh dear.)
Look at this exchange, Huck’s lie for why his boat is late. Notice how Aunt Sally responds:
“It warn’t the grounding—that didn’t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.”
“Good gracious! anybody hurt?”
“No’m. Killed a nigger.”
“Well, it’s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt.”
Do you see what happened there? The slave wasn’t considered “people.” Never mind that one died. He doesn’t “count.” This was very common thinking back then, and it’s shocking now.
Twain wished it was shocking back then, too.
Next time, you’ll see what becomes of the duke and the king. I’m ready to be rid of them, personally. Hate those guys.
READING ASSIGNMENT: Huck Finn chapters 33-38
READING QUESTIONS:
- What happens when Tom appears on the scene?
- What finally happens to the king and the duke?
- What’s the difference between Tom’s plan for freeing Jim and Huck’s?
- How does Huck change when Tom comes?