Tom Sawyer Page #5

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We've got a lot of work to do.

Well, I guess I'd best be goin',

Mr. Bones.

You can just call me Tom.

What's your name?

Rebecca Thatcher.

But everybody just calls me Becky.

Well, I guess I'd better be goin'.

Me, too.

Bye, Tom.

Bye, Becky.

Who's that for, Muff?

That must be old Hoss Williams.

Let's go take a look.

Doc, you did a real good job.

He looks better than he did alive.

How'd you get rid of the yellow?

- How much, Clayton?

- That'll be 2.50, Doc.

2.50?! This is an outrage!

I never paid you more than $2

for a casket before.

Labor and materials

gone sky-high, Doc.

I hardly make a cent.

In there lays the only man

in Hannibal, Missouri,

that could ever out-drink me.

What's the matter, boy?

Is somethin' ailin' you?

Just that I never saw

no one dead before.

Well, dyin's a part of livin'.

Come on.

You take old Hoss back there.

Some folks are gonna say

he drank himself to death.

Well, maybe he did.

I'll tell you one thing for sure,

only old Hoss knows that.

Just a minute, boy.

There you are.

Take a look

at the folks you've knowed

Young or growed

Some keep thrivin'

and some keep strivin' in vain

It's a matter of destiny

Who you'll be

Judge or the preacher

or a pitiful creature

They's hangin' from a tree

Whoa, a man's got to be

what he's born to be

So just sit back and wait

Be it soon or late

He'll be small or great

Yeah, a man's got to be

what he's born to be

So just sit back and wait

Soon or late,

small or great

There ain't no fightin' fate

Doesn't matter what you may try

By and by

Some get lucky

and some get stuck in the mud

That's the way the old world behaves

Why make waves?

Sooner or later, just like a potater

We're planted in our graves

Whoa, a man's got to be

what he's born to be

So just sit back and wait

Be it soon or late

He'll be small or great

Yeah, a man's got to be

what he's born to be

So just sit back and wait

Soon or late,

small or great

There' ain't no fightin' fate

Now, where's the future

in plans and schemes

When it seems

That old grim reaper

will soon be a-leapin' on you?

When it's over,

you'll know your bound

To be found

Wearin' your Sunday clothes,

sleepin' in sweet repose

Six feet underground

Whoa, a man's got to be

what he's born to be

So just sit back and wait

Be it soon or late

He'll be small or great

Yeah, a man's got to be

what he's born to be

So just sit back and wait

Soon or late,

small or great

There ain't no fightin' fate

No, sir,

there ain't no fightin' fate

There it is.

Cirrhosis is what took him.

Seems only fittin'.

- Cirrhosis?

- Of the liver.

- Turns you yellow and you die.

- How'd he get it?

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