Reading Help Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain Ch.I-XV
the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far `
` enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. `
` `
` Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a `
` long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and `
` a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board `
` fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a `
` burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost `
` plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant `
` whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed `
` fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at `
` the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from `
` the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but `
` now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at `
` the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there `
` waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, `
` fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only `
` a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of `
` water under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go after `
` him. Tom said: `
` `
` "Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some." `
` `
` Jim shook his head and said: `
` `
` "Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis `
` water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars `
` Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend `
` to my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'." `
` `
` "Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always `
` talks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't `
` ever know." `
` `
` "Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n `
` me. 'Deed she would." `
` `
` "SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with her `
` thimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but `
` talk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you `
` a marvel. I'll give you a white alley!" `
` `
` Jim began to waver. `
` `
` "White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw." `
` `
` "My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful `
` 'fraid ole missis--" `
` `
` "And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe." `
` `
` Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put down `
` his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing `
` interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was `
` flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was `
` whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field `
` with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. `
` `
` But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had `
` planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys `
` would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and `
` they would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the very `
` thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and `
` examined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an `
` exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an `
` hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his `
` pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark `
` and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a `
` great, magnificent inspiration. `
` `
` He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in `
` sight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been `
` dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that his `
` heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and `
` giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned `
` ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As `
` he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned `
` far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious `
` pomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, and `
` considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and `
` captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself `
` standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them: `
` `
` "Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he `
` drew up slowly toward the sidewalk. `
` `
` "Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and `
` stiffened down his sides. `
` `
` "Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow! `
` Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles--for it was `
` representing a forty-foot wheel. `
` `
` "Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-lingling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!" `
` The left hand began to describe circles. `
` `
` "Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead `
` on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow! `
` Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! LIVELY now! `
` Come--out with your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turn `
` round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let her `
` go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!" `
` (trying the gauge-cocks). `
` `
` Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben `
` stared a moment and then said: "Hi-YI! YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you!" `
` `
` No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then `
` he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as `
` before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the `
` apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said: `
` `
` "Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?" `
` `
` Tom wheeled suddenly and said: `
` `
` "Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing." `
` `
` "Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of `
` course you'd druther WORK--wouldn't you? Course you would!" `
` `
` Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: `
` `
` "What do you call work?" `
` `
` "Why, ain't THAT work?" `
` `
` Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: `
` `
` "Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom `
` Sawyer." `
` `
` "Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?" `
` `
` The brush continued to move. `
` `
` "Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get `
` a chance to whitewash a fence every day?" `
` `
` That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom `
` swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the `
` effect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Ben `
` watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more `
` absorbed. Presently he said: `
` `
` "Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little." `
` `
` Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind: `
` `
` "No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's `
` awful particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know `
` --but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes, `
` she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very `
` careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two `
` thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done." `
` `
` "No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'd `
` let YOU, if you was me, Tom." `
` `
` "Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted to `
` do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't `
` let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this `
` fence and anything was to happen to it--" `
` `
` "Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll give `
` you the core of my apple." `
` `
` "Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--" `
` `
` "I'll give you ALL of it!" `
` `
` Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his `
` heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in `
` the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, `
` dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more `
` innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every `
` little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time `
` Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for `
` a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in `
` for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on, `
` hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being `
` a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling `
` in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, `
` part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a `
` spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, `
` a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six `
` fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a `
` dog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of `
` orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash. `
` `
` He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company `
` --and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out `
` of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. `
` `
` Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He `
` had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely, `
` that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only `
` necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great `
` and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have `
` comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, `
` and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And `
`
` enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. `
` `
` Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a `
` long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and `
` a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board `
` fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a `
` burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost `
` plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant `
` whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed `
` fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at `
` the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from `
` the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but `
` now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at `
` the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there `
` waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, `
` fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only `
` a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of `
` water under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go after `
` him. Tom said: `
` `
` "Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some." `
` `
` Jim shook his head and said: `
` `
` "Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis `
` water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars `
` Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend `
` to my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'." `
` `
` "Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always `
` talks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't `
` ever know." `
` `
` "Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n `
` me. 'Deed she would." `
` `
` "SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with her `
` thimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but `
` talk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you `
` a marvel. I'll give you a white alley!" `
` `
` Jim began to waver. `
` `
` "White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw." `
` `
` "My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful `
` 'fraid ole missis--" `
` `
` "And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe." `
` `
` Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put down `
` his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing `
` interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was `
` flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was `
` whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field `
` with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. `
` `
` But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had `
` planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys `
` would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and `
` they would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the very `
` thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and `
` examined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an `
` exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an `
` hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his `
` pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark `
` and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a `
` great, magnificent inspiration. `
` `
` He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in `
` sight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been `
` dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that his `
` heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and `
` giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned `
` ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As `
` he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned `
` far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious `
` pomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, and `
` considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and `
` captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself `
` standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them: `
` `
` "Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he `
` drew up slowly toward the sidewalk. `
` `
` "Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and `
` stiffened down his sides. `
` `
` "Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow! `
` Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles--for it was `
` representing a forty-foot wheel. `
` `
` "Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-lingling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!" `
` The left hand began to describe circles. `
` `
` "Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead `
` on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow! `
` Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! LIVELY now! `
` Come--out with your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turn `
` round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let her `
` go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!" `
` (trying the gauge-cocks). `
` `
` Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben `
` stared a moment and then said: "Hi-YI! YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you!" `
` `
` No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then `
` he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as `
` before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the `
` apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said: `
` `
` "Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?" `
` `
` Tom wheeled suddenly and said: `
` `
` "Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing." `
` `
` "Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of `
` course you'd druther WORK--wouldn't you? Course you would!" `
` `
` Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: `
` `
` "What do you call work?" `
` `
` "Why, ain't THAT work?" `
` `
` Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: `
` `
` "Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom `
` Sawyer." `
` `
` "Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?" `
` `
` The brush continued to move. `
` `
` "Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get `
` a chance to whitewash a fence every day?" `
` `
` That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom `
` swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the `
` effect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Ben `
` watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more `
` absorbed. Presently he said: `
` `
` "Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little." `
` `
` Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind: `
` `
` "No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's `
` awful particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know `
` --but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes, `
` she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very `
` careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two `
` thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done." `
` `
` "No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'd `
` let YOU, if you was me, Tom." `
` `
` "Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted to `
` do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't `
` let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this `
` fence and anything was to happen to it--" `
` `
` "Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll give `
` you the core of my apple." `
` `
` "Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--" `
` `
` "I'll give you ALL of it!" `
` `
` Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his `
` heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in `
` the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, `
` dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more `
` innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every `
` little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time `
` Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for `
` a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in `
` for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on, `
` hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being `
` a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling `
` in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, `
` part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a `
` spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, `
` a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six `
` fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a `
` dog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of `
` orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash. `
` `
` He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company `
` --and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out `
` of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. `
` `
` Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He `
` had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely, `
` that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only `
` necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great `
` and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have `
` comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, `
` and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And `
`