Life on the Mississippi

Here’s a quick excerpt from the book:

I stood up and shook my rags off and jumped into the river, and struck
out for the raft’s light. By and by, when I got down nearly to her,
I eased up and went slow and cautious. But everything was all
right–nobody at the sweeps. So I swum down along the raft till I was
most abreast the camp fire in the middle, then I crawled aboard and
inched along and got in amongst some bundles of shingles on the weather
side of the fire. There was thirteen men there–they was the watch on
deck of course. And a mighty rough-looking lot, too. They had a jug, and
tin cups, and they kept the jug moving. One man was singing–roaring,
you may say; and it wasn’t a nice song–for a parlor anyway. He roared
through his nose, and strung out the last word of every line very long.

Read the rest of Life on the Mississippi

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