Does a Thatcher thatch roofs of mouths?

After a few rounds of “cough medicine,” Tom and Huck commenced to trading stories about their years apart from each other’s friendship.

“Why, Huck, there wasn’t a day that went by I didn’t think of Becky.”

“That ol’ girl? Why’n’t you find someone else to interest you, Tom?”

“I don’t reckon I know. It was like she was the girl what made my dreaming and carrying on worthwhile.”

“Uh-huh. What about now?”

“What do ya mean?”

“Is she still your girl?”

“That, Huck, is a story I can’t rightly tell in my condition. This ‘shine has turned me plumb sideways with sentimentality. But there is this one time I can ‘member clear a blue sky…”

“Tell me more!”

“Well, you see, Becky, being wiser ’bout some things than me, she convinced me to invite her to St. Louis for the annual fair. Thing about it is she had already arranged for us to have dinner at a fancy restaurant down by the River. There was dinner, of course. But at the end of the meal, a band started playing the most peculiar music. You shoulda been there, I tell you.”


“Better yet, let me show you!”


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