She says, "Take your hands away, Huckleberry; what a mess you are always making!" The widow put in a good word for me, but that warn't going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough.

I started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and wondering where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be.

There is ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn't one of them kind; so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along low-spirited and on the watch-out.
I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go through the high board fence.

There was an inch of new snow on the ground, and I seen somebody's tracks.

They had come up from the quarry and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden fence.