“Tom, I reckon they’re all alike. They’ll all comb a body. Now you better think ’bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What’s the name of the gal?”

“It ain’t a gal at all⁠—it’s a girl.”

“It’s all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl⁠—both’s right, like enough. Anyway, what’s her name, Tom?”

“I’ll tell you some time⁠—not now.”

“All right⁠—that’ll do. Only if you get married I’ll be more lonesomer than ever.”

“No you won’t. You’ll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and we’ll go to digging.”

They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled another half-hour. Still no result. Huck said:

“Do they always bury it as deep as this?”