and she says: “Who's 'everybody'?  Out with their names, or ther'll be an idiot short.” He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says: “I'm sorry, and I warn't expecting it.  They told me to.  They all told me to.  They all said, kiss her; and said she'd like it.  They all said it--every one of them.  But I'm sorry, m'am, and I won't do it no more--I won't, honest.” “You won't, won't you?  Well, I sh'd _reckon_ you won't!” “No'm, I'm honest about it; I won't ever do it again--till you ask me.” “Till I _ask_ you!  Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days!  I lay you'll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you--or the likes of you.” “Well,” he says, “it does surprise me so.  I can't make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would.  But--” He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman's, and says, “Didn't _you_ think she'd like me to kiss her, sir?” “Why, no; I--I--well, no, I b'lieve I didn't.” Then he looks on around the same way to me, and says: “Tom, didn't _you_ think Aunt Sally 'd open out her arms and say, 'Sid Sawyer--'” “My land!” she says, breaking in and jumping for him, “you impudent young rascal, to fool a body so--” and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says: “No, not till you've asked me first.” So she didn't lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left.  And after they got a little quiet again she says: “Why, dear me, I never see such a surprise.  We warn't looking for _you_ at all, but only Tom.  Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him.” “It's because it warn't _intended_ for any of us to come but Tom,” he says; “but I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too; so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a first-rate surprise fo