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Tom Sawyer

Tom Sawyer

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Published by: conta_scribd on Mar 07, 2010
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The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Completeby Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) Part 1out of 5This eBook was updated by Jose Menendezand David Widger [widger@cecomet.net]from the Internet Wiretap production ofJuly 1993THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER BY MARKTWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)P R E F A C EMOST of the adventures recorded in thisbook really occurred; one or two wereexperiences of my own, the rest those ofboys who were schoolmates of mine. HuckFinn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyeralso, but not from an individual--he isa combination of the characteristics ofthree boys whom I knew, and thereforebelongs to the composite order ofarchitecture.The odd superstitions touched upon wereall prevalent among children and slavesin the West at the period of this story--that is to say, thirty or forty yearsago.Although my book is intended mainly forthe entertainment of boys and girls, Ihope it will not be shunned by men andwomen on that account, for part of myplan has been to try to pleasantlyremind adults of what they once werethemselves, and of how they felt andthought and talked, and what queerenterprises they sometimes engaged in.THE AUTHOR.HARTFORD, 1876.T O M S A W Y E RCHAPTER I"TOM!"
No answer."TOM!"No answer."What's gone with that boy, I wonder?You TOM!"No answer.The old lady pulled her spectacles downand looked over them about the room;then she put them up and looked outunder them. She seldom or never lookedTHROUGH them for so small a thing as aboy; they were her state pair, the prideof her heart, and were built for"style," not service--she could haveseen through a pair of stove-lids justas well. She looked perplexed for amoment, and then said, not fiercely, butstill loud enough for the furniture tohear:"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll--"She did not finish, for by this time shewas bending down and punching under thebed with the broom, and so she neededbreath to punctuate the punches with.She resurrected nothing but the cat."I never did see the beat of that boy!"She went to the open door and stood init and looked out among the tomato vinesand "jimpson" weeds that constituted thegarden. No Tom. So she lifted up hervoice at an angle calculated fordistance and shouted:"Y-o-u-u TOM!"There was a slight noise behind her andshe turned just in time to seize a smallboy by the slack of his roundabout andarrest his flight."There! I might 'a' thought of thatcloset. What you been doing in there?""Nothing.""Nothing! Look at your hands. And lookat your mouth. What IS that truck?""I don't know, aunt."
"Well, I know. It's jam--that's what itis. Forty times I've said if you didn'tlet that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand methat switch."The switch hovered in the air--the perilwas desperate--"My! Look behind you, aunt!"The old lady whirled round, and snatchedher skirts out of danger. The lad fledon the instant, scrambled up the highboard-fence, and disappeared over it.His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment,and then broke into a gentle laugh."Hang the boy, can't I never learnanything? Ain't he played me tricksenough like that for me to be lookingout for him by this time? But old foolsis the biggest fools there is. Can'tlearn an old dog new tricks, as thesaying is. But my goodness, he neverplays them alike, two days, and how is abody to know what's coming? He 'pears toknow just how long he can torment mebefore I get my dander up, and he knowsif he can make out to put me off for aminute or make me laugh, it's all downagain and I can't hit him a lick. Iain't doing my duty by that boy, andthat's the Lord's truth, goodness knows.Spare the rod and spile the child, asthe Good Book says. I'm a laying up sinand suffering for us both, I know. He'sfull of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me!he's my own dead sister's boy, poorthing, and I ain't got the heart to lashhim, somehow. Every time I let him off,my conscience does hurt me so, and everytime I hit him my old heart most breaks.Well-a-well, man that is born of womanis of few days and full of trouble, asthe Scripture says, and I reckon it'sso. He'll play hookey this evening, *and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"]I'll just be obleeged to make him work,to-morrow, to punish him. It's mightyhard to make him work Saturdays, whenall the boys is having holiday, but hehates work more than he hates anythingelse, and I've GOT to do some of my dutyby him, or I'll be the ruination of thechild."Tom did play hookey, and he had a verygood time. He got back home barely in

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