"I tell you, Mas' Tom," he said, "wood'll float, 'thout 'tis live oak, an' dis here drif'-pile 'll jest raise up an' float away, you'll see if it don't."
"Why hasn't it floated away long ago, then, Joe?" asked Tom.
"May be it has. How you know dis drif' didn't all on it come here las' time de river was up?"
"Well, there's too much of it for that, and besides, Sam says this place is safe, and you know he is always right about things when he speaks positively about them."
"Mas' Tom, don' you know Mas' Sam done been a-talkin' nonsense for two weeks now?"
"Yes; but that's only when he's out of his head."
"How you know when he's outen his head an' when he ain't?"
"We know he's out of his head when he talks nonsense."
"Well, maybe dis here 's nonsense. I jest knows it is, and dat's how I know Mas' Sam was outen his head when he said it."
Tom saw that Joe was not to be convinced, and so he contented himself with saying,