Reading Help Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain Ch.I-XV
plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, the `
` Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And at `
` the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village `
` and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet `
` doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt `
` bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his `
` slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull `
` and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, `
` "It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!" `
` `
` Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from `
` home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore `
` he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources `
` together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under `
` one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded `
` hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively: `
` `
` "What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!" `
` `
` Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it `
` up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides `
` were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless! `
` He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said: `
` `
` "Well, that beats anything!" `
` `
` Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The `
` truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and `
` all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a `
` marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a `
` fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just `
` used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had `
` gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they `
` had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably `
` failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. `
` He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its `
` failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several `
` times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places `
` afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided `
` that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he `
` would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he `
` found a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it. `
` He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and `
` called-- `
` `
` "Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug, `
` doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!" `
` `
` The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a `
` second and then darted under again in a fright. `
` `
` "He dasn't tell! So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it." `
` `
` He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he `
` gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have `
` the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a `
` patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to `
` his treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been `
` standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble `
` from his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying: `
` `
` "Brother, go find your brother!" `
` `
` He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must `
` have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last `
` repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each `
` other. `
` `
` Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green `
` aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a `
` suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, `
` disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in `
` a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with `
` fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an `
` answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way `
` and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company: `
` `
` "Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow." `
` `
` Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. `
` Tom called: `
` `
` "Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?" `
` `
` "Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--" `
` `
` "Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked `
` "by the book," from memory. `
` `
` "Who art thou that dares to hold such language?" `
` `
` "I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know." `
` `
` "Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute `
` with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!" `
` `
` They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, `
` struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful `
` combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said: `
` `
` "Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!" `
` `
` So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and `
` by Tom shouted: `
` `
` "Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?" `
` `
` "I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of `
` it." `
` `
` "Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in `
` the book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor `
` Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the `
` back." `
` `
` There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received `
` the whack and fell. `
` `
` "Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair." `
` `
` "Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book." `
` `
` "Well, it's blamed mean--that's all." `
` `
` "Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and `
` lam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and `
` you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me." `
` `
` This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then `
` Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to `
` bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe, `
` representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, `
` gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow `
` falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he `
` shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a `
` nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. `
` `
` The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off `
` grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern `
` civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. `
` They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than `
` President of the United States forever. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER IX `
` `
` AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. `
` They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and `
` waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be `
` nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He `
` would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was `
` afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. `
` Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, `
` scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking `
` of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to `
` crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were `
` abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And `
` now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could `
` locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at `
` the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were `
` numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was `
` answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an `
` agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity `
` begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, `
` but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his `
` half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a `
` neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the `
` crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed `
` brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and `
` out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all `
` fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped `
` to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn `
` was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the `
` gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall `
` grass of the graveyard. `
` `
` It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a `
` hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board `
` fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of `
` the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the `
` whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a `
` tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over `
` the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory `
` of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer `
` have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light. `
` `
` A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the `
` spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked `
` little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the `
` pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the `
` sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the `
` protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet `
` of the grave. `
` `
` Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting `
` of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. `
` Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said `
` in a whisper: `
` `
` "Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?" `
`
` Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And at `
` the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village `
` and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet `
` doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt `
` bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his `
` slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull `
` and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, `
` "It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!" `
` `
` Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from `
` home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore `
` he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources `
` together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under `
` one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded `
` hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively: `
` `
` "What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!" `
` `
` Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it `
` up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides `
` were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless! `
` He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said: `
` `
` "Well, that beats anything!" `
` `
` Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The `
` truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and `
` all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a `
` marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a `
` fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just `
` used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had `
` gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they `
` had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably `
` failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. `
` He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its `
` failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several `
` times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places `
` afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided `
` that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he `
` would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he `
` found a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it. `
` He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and `
` called-- `
` `
` "Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug, `
` doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!" `
` `
` The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a `
` second and then darted under again in a fright. `
` `
` "He dasn't tell! So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it." `
` `
` He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he `
` gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have `
` the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a `
` patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to `
` his treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been `
` standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble `
` from his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying: `
` `
` "Brother, go find your brother!" `
` `
` He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must `
` have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last `
` repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each `
` other. `
` `
` Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green `
` aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a `
` suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, `
` disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in `
` a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with `
` fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an `
` answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way `
` and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company: `
` `
` "Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow." `
` `
` Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. `
` Tom called: `
` `
` "Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?" `
` `
` "Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--" `
` `
` "Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked `
` "by the book," from memory. `
` `
` "Who art thou that dares to hold such language?" `
` `
` "I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know." `
` `
` "Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute `
` with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!" `
` `
` They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, `
` struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful `
` combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said: `
` `
` "Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!" `
` `
` So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and `
` by Tom shouted: `
` `
` "Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?" `
` `
` "I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of `
` it." `
` `
` "Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in `
` the book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor `
` Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the `
` back." `
` `
` There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received `
` the whack and fell. `
` `
` "Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair." `
` `
` "Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book." `
` `
` "Well, it's blamed mean--that's all." `
` `
` "Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and `
` lam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and `
` you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me." `
` `
` This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then `
` Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to `
` bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe, `
` representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, `
` gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow `
` falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he `
` shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a `
` nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. `
` `
` The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off `
` grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern `
` civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. `
` They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than `
` President of the United States forever. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER IX `
` `
` AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. `
` They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and `
` waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be `
` nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He `
` would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was `
` afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. `
` Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, `
` scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking `
` of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to `
` crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were `
` abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And `
` now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could `
` locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at `
` the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were `
` numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was `
` answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an `
` agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity `
` begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, `
` but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his `
` half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a `
` neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the `
` crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed `
` brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and `
` out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all `
` fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped `
` to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn `
` was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the `
` gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall `
` grass of the graveyard. `
` `
` It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a `
` hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board `
` fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of `
` the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the `
` whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a `
` tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over `
` the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory `
` of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer `
` have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light. `
` `
` A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the `
` spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked `
` little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the `
` pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the `
` sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the `
` protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet `
` of the grave. `
` `
` Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting `
` of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. `
` Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said `
` in a whisper: `
` `
` "Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?" `
`