Reading Help Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain Ch.I-XV
see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she `
` gave in and hesitatingly whispered: `
` `
` "Let me see it." `
` `
` Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable `
` ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the `
` girl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot `
` everything else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then `
` whispered: `
` `
` "It's nice--make a man." `
` `
` The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. `
` He could have stepped over the house; but the girl was not `
` hypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered: `
` `
` "It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along." `
` `
` Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and `
` armed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said: `
` `
` "It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw." `
` `
` "It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you." `
` `
` "Oh, will you? When?" `
` `
` "At noon. Do you go home to dinner?" `
` `
` "I'll stay if you will." `
` `
` "Good--that's a whack. What's your name?" `
` `
` "Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer." `
` `
` "That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me `
` Tom, will you?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from `
` the girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tom `
` said: `
` `
` "Oh, it ain't anything." `
` `
` "Yes it is." `
` `
` "No it ain't. You don't want to see." `
` `
` "Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me." `
` `
` "You'll tell." `
` `
` "No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't." `
` `
` "You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?" `
` `
` "No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me." `
` `
` "Oh, YOU don't want to see!" `
` `
` "Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand `
` upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in `
` earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were `
` revealed: "I LOVE YOU." `
` `
` "Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened `
` and looked pleased, nevertheless. `
` `
` Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his `
` ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that vise he was borne across the `
` house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles `
` from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few `
` awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a `
` word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant. `
` `
` As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the `
` turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the `
` reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and `
` turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into `
` continents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, and `
` got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought `
` up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with `
` ostentation for months. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER VII `
` `
` THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his `
` ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It `
` seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was `
` utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of `
` sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying `
` scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. `
` Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green `
` sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of `
` distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other `
` living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's `
` heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to `
` pass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face `
` lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know `
` it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out. He released the `
` tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed `
` with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it `
` was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned `
` him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction. `
` `
` Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and `
` now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in an `
` instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn `
` friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a `
` pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. `
` The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were `
` interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of `
` the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the `
` middle of it from top to bottom. `
` `
` "Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and `
` I'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side, `
` you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over." `
` `
` "All right, go ahead; start him up." `
` `
` The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe `
` harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This `
` change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with `
` absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, `
` the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to `
` all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The `
` tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as `
` anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would `
` have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be `
` twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep `
` possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was `
` too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was `
` angry in a moment. Said he: `
` `
` "Tom, you let him alone." `
` `
` "I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe." `
` `
` "No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone." `
` `
` "Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much." `
` `
` "Let him alone, I tell you." `
` `
` "I won't!" `
` `
` "You shall--he's on my side of the line." `
` `
` "Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?" `
` `
` "I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and you `
` sha'n't touch him." `
` `
` "Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I `
` blame please with him, or die!" `
` `
` A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on `
` Joe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from `
` the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been too `
` absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile `
` before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over `
` them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he `
` contributed his bit of variety to it. `
` `
` When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and `
` whispered in her ear: `
` `
` "Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to `
` the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the `
` lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same `
` way." `
` `
` So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with `
` another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and `
` when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they `
` sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil `
` and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising `
` house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. `
` Tom was swimming in bliss. He said: `
` `
` "Do you love rats?" `
` `
` "No! I hate them!" `
` `
` "Well, I do, too--LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your `
` head with a string." `
` `
` "No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum." `
` `
` "Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now." `
` `
` "Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give `
` it back to me." `
` `
` That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their `
`
` gave in and hesitatingly whispered: `
` `
` "Let me see it." `
` `
` Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable `
` ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the `
` girl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot `
` everything else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then `
` whispered: `
` `
` "It's nice--make a man." `
` `
` The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. `
` He could have stepped over the house; but the girl was not `
` hypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered: `
` `
` "It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along." `
` `
` Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and `
` armed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said: `
` `
` "It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw." `
` `
` "It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you." `
` `
` "Oh, will you? When?" `
` `
` "At noon. Do you go home to dinner?" `
` `
` "I'll stay if you will." `
` `
` "Good--that's a whack. What's your name?" `
` `
` "Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer." `
` `
` "That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me `
` Tom, will you?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from `
` the girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tom `
` said: `
` `
` "Oh, it ain't anything." `
` `
` "Yes it is." `
` `
` "No it ain't. You don't want to see." `
` `
` "Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me." `
` `
` "You'll tell." `
` `
` "No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't." `
` `
` "You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?" `
` `
` "No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me." `
` `
` "Oh, YOU don't want to see!" `
` `
` "Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand `
` upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in `
` earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were `
` revealed: "I LOVE YOU." `
` `
` "Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened `
` and looked pleased, nevertheless. `
` `
` Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his `
` ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that vise he was borne across the `
` house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles `
` from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few `
` awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a `
` word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant. `
` `
` As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the `
` turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the `
` reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and `
` turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into `
` continents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, and `
` got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought `
` up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with `
` ostentation for months. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER VII `
` `
` THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his `
` ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It `
` seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was `
` utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of `
` sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying `
` scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. `
` Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green `
` sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of `
` distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other `
` living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's `
` heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to `
` pass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face `
` lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know `
` it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out. He released the `
` tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed `
` with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it `
` was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned `
` him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction. `
` `
` Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and `
` now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in an `
` instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn `
` friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a `
` pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. `
` The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were `
` interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of `
` the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the `
` middle of it from top to bottom. `
` `
` "Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and `
` I'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side, `
` you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over." `
` `
` "All right, go ahead; start him up." `
` `
` The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe `
` harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This `
` change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with `
` absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, `
` the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to `
` all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The `
` tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as `
` anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would `
` have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be `
` twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep `
` possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was `
` too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was `
` angry in a moment. Said he: `
` `
` "Tom, you let him alone." `
` `
` "I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe." `
` `
` "No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone." `
` `
` "Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much." `
` `
` "Let him alone, I tell you." `
` `
` "I won't!" `
` `
` "You shall--he's on my side of the line." `
` `
` "Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?" `
` `
` "I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and you `
` sha'n't touch him." `
` `
` "Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I `
` blame please with him, or die!" `
` `
` A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on `
` Joe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from `
` the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been too `
` absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile `
` before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over `
` them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he `
` contributed his bit of variety to it. `
` `
` When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and `
` whispered in her ear: `
` `
` "Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to `
` the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the `
` lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same `
` way." `
` `
` So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with `
` another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and `
` when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they `
` sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil `
` and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising `
` house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. `
` Tom was swimming in bliss. He said: `
` `
` "Do you love rats?" `
` `
` "No! I hate them!" `
` `
` "Well, I do, too--LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your `
` head with a string." `
` `
` "No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum." `
` `
` "Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now." `
` `
` "Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give `
` it back to me." `
` `
` That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their `
`