way he was when he come.  So I set down and laid for him to wake.  In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding in, and there I was, up a stump again!  She motioned me to be still, and set down by me, and begun to whisper, and said we could all be joyful now, because all the symptoms was first-rate, and he'd been sleeping like that for ever so long, and looking better and peacefuller all the time, and ten to one he'd wake up in his right mind. So we set there watching, and by and by he stirs a bit, and opened his eyes very natural, and takes a look, and says: “Hello!--why, I'm at _home_!  How's that?  Where's the raft?” “It's all right,” I says. “And _Jim_?” “The same,” I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash.  But he never noticed, but says: “Good!  Splendid!  _Now_ we're all right and safe! Did you tell Aunty?” I was going to say yes; but she chipped in and says: “About what, Sid?” “Why, about the way the whole thing was done.” “What whole thing?” “Why, _the_ whole thing.  There ain't but one; how we set the runaway nigger free--me and Tom.” “Good land!  Set the run--What _is_ the child talking about!  Dear, dear, out of his head again!” “_No_, I ain't out of my _head_; I know all what I'm talking about.  We _did_ set him free--me and Tom.  We laid out to do it, and we _done_ it.  And we done it elegant, too.”  He'd got a start, and she never checked him up, just set and stared and stared, and let him clip along, and I see it warn't no use for _me_ to put in. “Why, Aunty, it cost us a power of work--weeks of it--hours and hours, every night, whilst you was all asleep. And we had to steal candles, and the sheet, and the shirt, and your dress, and spoons, and tin plates, and case-knives, and the warming-pan, and the grindstone, and flour, and just no end of things, and you can't think what work it was to make the saws, and pens, and inscriptions, and one thing or another, and you can't think _half_ the fun it was.  And we had to make up the picture