THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER BY MARK TWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens) Part 1 P R E F A C E MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one ortwo were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who wereschoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, butnot from an individual--he is a combination of the characteristics ofthree boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order ofarchitecture. The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among childrenand slaves in the West at the period of this story--that is to say, thirty or forty years ago. Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys andgirls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of whatthey once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in. THE AUTHOR. HARTFORD, 1876. T O M S A W Y E R CHAPTER 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 down and looked over them about theroom; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom ornever looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were herstate pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style, " notservice--she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, butstill loud enough for the furniture to hear: "Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll--" She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punchingunder the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate thepunches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat. "I never did see the beat of that boy!" She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among thetomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance andshouted: "Y-o-u-u TOM!" There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time toseize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight. "There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing inthere?" "Nothing. " "Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS thattruck?" "I don't know, aunt. " "Well, I know. It's jam--that's what it is. Forty times I've said ifyou didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch. " The switch hovered in the air--the peril was desperate-- "My! Look behind you, aunt!" The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. Thelad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, anddisappeared over it. His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentlelaugh. "Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricksenough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But oldfools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days, and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just howlong he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if hecan make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all downagain and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spilethe child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering forus both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's myown dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lashhim, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, manthat is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as theScripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, *and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make himwork, to-morrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him workSaturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work morethan he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him, or I'll be the ruination of the child. " Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back homebarely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day'swood and split the kindlings before supper--at least he was there intime to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of thework. Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was alreadythrough with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was aquiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways. While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunityoffered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, andvery deep--for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Likemany other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe shewas endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and sheloved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of lowcunning. Said she: "Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?" "Yes'm. " "Powerful warm, warn't it?" "Yes'm. " "Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?" A bit of a scare shot through Tom--a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said: "No'm--well, not very much. " The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said: "But you ain't too warm now, though. " And it flattered her to reflectthat she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowingthat that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knewwhere the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move: "Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?" Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit ofcircumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a newinspiration: "Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, topump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!" The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. Hisshirt collar was securely sewed. "Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookeyand been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of asinged cat, as the saying is--better'n you look. THIS time. " She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tomhad stumbled into obedient conduct for once. But Sidney said: "Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, but it's black. " "Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!" But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said: "Siddy, I'll lick you for that. " In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust intothe lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them--one needlecarried white thread and the other black. He said: "She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimesshe sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish togeeminy she'd stick to one or t'other--I can't keep the run of 'em. ButI bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!" He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy verywell though--and loathed him. Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to himthan a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest borethem down and drove them out of his mind for the time--just as men'smisfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. Thisnew interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had justacquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at shortintervals in the midst of the music--the reader probably remembers howto do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gavehim the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth fullof harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as anastronomer feels who has discovered a new planet--no doubt, as far asstrong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was withthe boy, not the astronomer. The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tomchecked his whistle. A stranger was before him--a boy a shade largerthan himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressivecuriosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boywas well dressed, too--well dressed on a week-day. This was simplyastounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue clothroundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoeson--and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit ofribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. Themore Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up hisnose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemedto him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved--butonly sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye allthe time. Finally Tom said: "I can lick you!" "I'd like to see you try it. " "Well, I can do it. " "No you can't, either. " "Yes I can. " "No you can't. " "I can. " "You can't. " "Can!" "Can't!" An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said: "What's your name?" "'Tisn't any of your business, maybe. " "Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business. " "Well why don't you?" "If you say much, I will. " "Much--much--MUCH. There now. " "Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you withone hand tied behind me, if I wanted to. " "Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it. " "Well I WILL, if you fool with me. " "Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix. " "Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!" "You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock itoff--and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs. " "You're a liar!" "You're another. " "You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up. " "Aw--take a walk!" "Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce arock off'n your head. " "Oh, of COURSE you will. " "Well I WILL. " "Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for?Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid. " "I AIN'T afraid. " "You are. " "I ain't. " "You are. " Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presentlythey were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said: "Get away from here!" "Go away yourself!" "I won't. " "I won't either. " So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, andboth shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other withhate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till bothwere hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said: "You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and hecan thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too. " "What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's biggerthan he is--and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too. "[Both brothers were imaginary. ] "That's a lie. " "YOUR saying so don't make it so. " Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said: "I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't standup. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep. " The new boy stepped over promptly, and said: "Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it. " "Don't you crowd me now; you better look out. " "Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?" "By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it. " The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them outwith derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boyswere rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; andfor the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair andclothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and coveredthemselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, andthrough the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, andpounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he. The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage. "Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on. At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him upand said: "Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with nexttime. " The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head andthreatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out. "To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, andas soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threwit and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran likean antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where helived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring theenemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through thewindow and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and calledTom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he wentaway; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy. He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously inat the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt;and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turnhis Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine inits firmness. CHAPTER II SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright andfresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and ifthe heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer inevery face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloomand the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyondthe village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just farenough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and along-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him anda deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of boardfence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but aburden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmostplank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificantwhitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashedfence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out atthe gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water fromthe town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, butnow it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company atthe pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always therewaiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was onlya hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket ofwater under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go afterhim. 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 diswater an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' MarsTom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tendto my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'. " "Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she alwaystalks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won'tever know. " "Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'nme. 'Deed she would. " "SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with herthimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, buttalk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give youa 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 downhis pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbinginterest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he wasflying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom waswhitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the fieldwith 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 hadplanned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boyswould come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, andthey would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the verythought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth andexamined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy anexchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half anhour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to hispocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this darkand hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than agreat, magnificent inspiration. He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove insight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had beendreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that hisheart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, andgiving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-tonedding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. Ashe drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leanedfar over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laboriouspomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, andconsidered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat andcaptain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himselfstanding on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them: "Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and hedrew up slowly toward the sidewalk. "Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened andstiffened 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 wasrepresenting 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 aheadon 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 turnround that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let hergo! 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. Benstared 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, thenhe gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, asbefore. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for theapple, 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 ofcourse 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 TomSawyer. " "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 geta chance to whitewash a fence every day?" That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tomswept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note theeffect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Benwatching every move and getting more and more interested, more and moreabsorbed. 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'sawful 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 verycareful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe twothousand, 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'dlet YOU, if you was me, Tom. " "Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted todo it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn'tlet Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle thisfence and anything was to happen to it--" "Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll giveyou 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 hisheart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated inthe sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of moreinnocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along everylittle while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the timeBen was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher fora kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought infor 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 beinga poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rollingin wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, aspool 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, sixfire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, adog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces oforange-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 outof whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. Hehad 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 onlynecessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a greatand wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now havecomprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. Andthis would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowersor performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins orclimbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen inEngland who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty mileson a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs themconsiderable money; but if they were offered wages for the service, that would turn it into work and then they would resign. The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken placein his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters toreport. CHAPTER III TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an openwindow in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined. The balmy summerair, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmurof the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her knitting--for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her lap. Herspectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thoughtthat of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at seeing himplace himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He said: "Mayn'tI go and play now, aunt?" "What, a'ready? How much have you done?" "It's all done, aunt. " "Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it. " "I ain't, aunt; it IS all done. " Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to seefor herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. Of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed, and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and evena streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. She said: "Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you'rea mind to, Tom. " And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "Butit's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'longand play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you. " She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she tookhim into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it tohim, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor atreat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" adoughnut. Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairwaythat led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy andthe air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like ahail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised facultiesand sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a generalthing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was atpeace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to hisblack thread and getting him into trouble. Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led bythe back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond thereach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public squareof the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met forconflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one ofthese armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. Thesetwo great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that beingbetter suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminenceand conducted the field operations by orders delivered throughaides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long andhard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for thenecessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line andmarched away, and Tom turned homeward alone. As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a newgirl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hairplaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroideredpantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. Acertain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even amemory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction;he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poorlittle evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she hadconfessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudestboy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of timeshe had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit isdone. He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that shehad discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order towin her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for sometime; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerousgymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girlwas wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence andleaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tomheaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his facelit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a momentbefore she disappeared. The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, andthen shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as ifhe had discovered something of interest going on in that direction. Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on hisnose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side, in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finallyhis bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and hehopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. Butonly for a minute--only while he could button the flower inside hisjacket, next his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was notmuch posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showingoff, " as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tomcomforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near somewindow, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strodehome reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions. All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered"what had got into the child. " He took a good scolding about cloddingSid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugarunder his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said: "Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it. " "Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always intothat sugar if I warn't watching you. " Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in hisimmunity, reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom whichwas wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl droppedand broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he evencontrolled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he wouldnot speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectlystill till she asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, andthere would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model"catch it. " He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly holdhimself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreckdischarging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said tohimself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling onthe floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom criedout: "Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?--Sid broke it!" Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. Butwhen she got her tongue again, she only said: "Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into someother audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough. " Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say somethingkind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into aconfession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that. So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her hearthis aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by theconsciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take noticeof none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He picturedhimself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseechingone little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, anddie with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he picturedhimself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, andhis sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and howher tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her backher boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would liethere cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whosegriefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathosof these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like tochoke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when hewinked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such aluxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bearto have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it;it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousinMary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after anage-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved inclouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine inat the other. He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and soughtdesolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in theriver invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge andcontemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, withoutundergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thoughtof his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightilyincreased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if sheknew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her armsaround his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like allthe hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurablesuffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set itup in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last herose up sighing and departed in the darkness. About half-past nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted streetto where the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fellupon his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon thecurtain of a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? Heclimbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, tillhe stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion;then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself uponhis back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poorwilted flower. And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with noshelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe thedeath-damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over himwhen the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she lookedout upon the glad morning, and oh! would she drop one little tear uponhis poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a brightyoung life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down? The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned theholy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains! The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whizas of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a soundas of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over thefence and shot away in the gloom. Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying hisdrenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if hehad any dim idea of making any "references to allusions, " he thoughtbetter of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye. Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid mademental note of the omission.