"How you talk, Huck Finn.  Why, you'd _have_ to come when he rubbed it, whether you wanted to or not."

"What! and I as high as a tree and as big as a church?  All right, then; I _would_ come; but I lay I'd make that man climb the highest tree there was in the country."

"Shucks, it ain't no use to talk to you, Huck Finn.  You don't seem to know anything, somehow—perfect saphead."

I thought all this over for two or three days, and then I reckoned I would see if there was anything in it.  I got an old tin lamp and an iron ring, and went out in the woods and rubbed and rubbed till I sweat like an Injun, calculating to build a palace and sell it; but it warn't no use, none of the genies come.  So then I judged that all that stuff was only just one of Tom Sawyer's lies.  I reckoned he believed in the A-rabs and the elephants, but as for me I think different.  It had all the marks of a Sunday-school.