PREFACE
Mostoftheadventuresrecordedinthisbookreallyoccurred;
oneortwowereexperiencesofmyown,therestthoseofboyswhowereschoolmatesofmine.
HuckFinnisdrawnfromlife;
TomSawyeralso,butnotfromanindividual—heisacombinationofthecharacteristicsofthreeboyswhomIknew,andthereforebelongstothecompositeorderofarchitecture.
Theoddsuperstitionstoucheduponwereallprevalentamongchildrenandslavesinthe
Vesten
Westattheperiodofthisstory—thatistosay,thirtyorfortyyearsago.Althoughmybookisintendedmainlyfortheentertainmentofboysandgirls,Ihopeitwillnotbeshunnedbymenandwomenonthataccount,forpartofmyplanhasbeentotrytopleasantlyremindadultsofwhattheyoncewerethemselves,andofhowtheyfeltandthoughtandtalked,andwhatqueerenterprisestheysometimesengagedin.
THEAUTHOR.
CHAPTERI
“Tom!”
Noanswer.
“TOM!”
Noanswer.
“What’sgonewiththatboy,I
undrer
wonder?YouTOM!”
Noanswer.
Theoldlady
trak
pulledherspectaclesdownandlookedoverthemabouttheroom;thensheputthemupandlookedoutunderthem.
Sheseldomorneverlookedthroughthemforsosmallathingasaboy;
theywereherstatepair,theprideofherheart,andwere
bygget
builtfor“style,”notservice—shecouldhaveseenthroughapairofstove-lidsjustaswell.Shelookedperplexedforamoment,andthensaid,notfiercely,butstillloudenoughforthefurnituretohear:.
“Well,IlayifIgetholdofyouI’ll—”.
Shedidnot
færdig
finish,forbythistimeshewasbendingdownandpunchingunderthebedwiththebroom,andsosheneededbreathtopunctuatethepuncheswith.Sheresurrectednothingbutthe
katten
cat.“Ineverdidseethebeatofthatboy!”
Shewenttotheopendoorandstoodinitandlookedoutamongthetomatovinesand“jimpson”weedsthatconstitutedthegarden.
NoTom.
Sosheliftedupher
stemme
voiceatananglecalculatedfordistanceandshouted:.“Y-o-u-uTOM!”
Therewasaslightnoisebehindherandsheturnedjustintimetoseizeasmallboybytheslackofhisroundaboutand
arrestere
arresthisflight.“There!
Imight’a’thoughtofthatcloset.
Whatyoubeendoinginthere?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!
Lookatyourhands.
Andlookatyour
mund
mouth.Whatisthattruck?”
“Idon’tknow,aunt.”
“Well,Iknow.
It’sjam—that’swhatitis.
FortytimesI’vesaidifyoudidn’tletthatjamaloneI’dskinyou.
Handmethatswitch.”
Theswitchhoveredintheair—theperilwasdesperate—.
“My!
Lookbehindyou,aunt!”
Theoldladywhirled
rundt
round,andsnatchedherskirtsoutofdanger.Theladfledontheinstant,scrambledupthehighboard-fence,anddisappearedoverit.
His
tante
auntPollystoodsurprisedamoment,andthenbrokeintoagentlelatter
laugh.“Hangtheboy,can’tInever
lære
learnanything?Ain’theplayedmetricksenoughlikethatformetobelookingoutforhimbythistime?
Butoldfoolsisthebiggestfoolsthereis.
Can’t
lære
learnanolddognewtricks,asthesayingis.Butmygoodness,heneverplaysthemalike,twodays,andhowisabodytoknowwhat’scoming?
He’pearstoknowjusthowlonghecantormentmebeforeIgetmydanderup,andheknowsifhecanmakeouttoputmeoffforaminuteormakeme
grine
laugh,it’salldownagainandIcan’thithimalick.Iain’tdoingmy
pligt
dutybythatboy,andthat’stheLord’struth,goodnessknows.Sparetherodandspilethechild,astheGoodBooksays.
I’malayingupsinandsufferingforusboth,Iknow.
He’sfulloftheOldScratch,butlaws-a-me!
he’smyowndeadsister’sboy,poorthing,andIain’tgotthehearttolashhim,somehow.
EverytimeIlethimoff,myconsciencedoeshurtmeso,andeverytimeIhithimmyoldheartmostbreaks.
Well-a-well,manthatis
født
bornofwomanisoffewdaysandfulloftrouble,astheScripturesays,andIreckonit’sso.He’llplayhookeythis
aften
evening,[*]andI’lljustbeobleegedtomakehimwork,tomorrow,topunishhim.It’smightyhardtomakehimworkSaturdays,whenalltheboysishavingholiday,buthehatesworkmorethanhehatesanythingelse,andI’vegottodosomeofmy
pligt
dutybyhim,orI’llbetheruinationofthechild.”[*]Southwesternfor“afternoon”.
Tomdidplayhookey,andhehadaverygoodtime.
HegotbackhomebarelyinseasontohelpJim,thesmallcoloredboy,sawnext-day’swoodandsplitthekindlingsbeforesupper—atleasthewasthereintimetotellhisadventurestoJimwhileJimdidthree-fourthsofthework.
Tom’syoungerbrother(or
snarere
ratherhalf-brother)Sidwasalreadythroughwithhispartofthework(pickingupchips),forhewasaquietboy,andhadnoadventurous,trouble-someways.WhileTomwaseatinghissupper,and
stjal
stealingsugarasopportunityoffered,Tante
AuntPollyaskedhimquestionsthatwerefullofguile,andverydeep—forshewantedtotraphimintodamagingrevealments.Likemanyothersimple-heartedsouls,itwasherpetvanitytobelieveshewasendowedwithatalentfor
mørk
darkandmysteriousdiplomacy,andshelovedtocontemplatehermosttransparentdevicesasmarvelsoflav
lowcunning.Saidshe:.
“Tom,itwasmiddling
varmt
warminschool,warn’tit?”“Yes’m.”
“Powerful
varm
warm,warn’tit?”“Yes’m.”
“Didn’tyouwanttogoina-swimming,Tom?”
AbitofascareshotthroughTom—atouchofuncomfortablesuspicion.
He
søgte
searchedAuntPolly’sface,butittoldhimnothing.Sohesaid:.
“No’m—well,notverymuch.”
TheoldladyreachedoutherhandandfeltTom’s
skjorte
shirt,andsaid:.“Butyouain’ttoo
varm
warmnow,though.”Anditflatteredhertoreflectthatshehaddiscoveredthattheshirtwasdrywithoutanybodyknowingthatthatwaswhatshehadinhermind.
Butinspiteofher,Tomknewwherethewindlay,now.
Soheforestalledwhatmightbethenextmove:.
“Someofuspumpedonourheads—mine’sdampyet.
See?”
Tante
AuntPollywasvexedtothinkshehadoverlookedthatbitofcircumstantialevidence,andmissedatrick.Thenshehadanewinspiration:.
“Tom,youdidn’thavetoundoyour
skjorte
shirtcollarwhereIsewedit,topumponyourhead,didyou?Unbuttonyourjacket!”
ThetroublevanishedoutofTom’sface.
Heopenedhisjacket.
His
skjorte
shirtcollarwassecurelysewed.“Bother!
Well,go’longwithyou.
I’dmadesureyou’dplayedhookeyandbeena-swimming.
ButI
tilgiver
forgiveye,Tom.Ireckonyou’reakindofasinged
kat
cat,asthesayingis—better’nyoulook.Thistime.”
Shewashalfsorryhersagacityhadmiscarried,andhalf
glad
gladthatTomhadstumbledintoobedientconductforonce.ButSidneysaid:.
“Well,now,ifIdidn’tthinkyousewedhiscollarwithwhitethread,butit’sblack.”
“Why,Ididsewitwithwhite!
Tom!”
ButTomdidnotwaitfortherest.
Ashewentoutatthedoorhesaid:.
“Siddy,I’lllickyouforthat.”
InasafeplaceTomexaminedtwo
store
largeneedleswhichwerethrustintothelapelsofhisjacket,andhadthreadboundaboutthem—oneneedlebar
carriedwhitethreadandtheotherblack.Hesaid:.
“She’dnever
bemærket
noticedifithadn’tbeenforSid.Confoundit!
sometimesshesewsitwithwhite,andsometimesshesewsitwithblack.
Iwishtogee-minyshe’dsticktooneort’other—Ican’tkeeptherunof’em.
ButI
vil vædde
betyouI’lllamSidforthat.I’ll
lære
learnhim!”HewasnottheModelBoyofthevillage.
Heknewthemodelboyverywellthough—andloathedhim.
Withintwominutes,oreven
mindre
less,hehadforgottenallhistroubles.Notbecausehistroubleswereonewhit
mindre
lessheavyandbittertohimthanaman’saretoaman,butbecauseanewandpowerfulinteresse
interestborethemdownanddrovethemoutofhismindforthetime—justasmen’smisfortunesareforgottenintheexcitementofnewenterprises.Thisnew
interesse
interestwasavaluednoveltyinwhistling,whichhehadjustacquiredfromanegro,andhewassufferingtopractiseitundisturbed.Itconsistedinapeculiarbird-liketurn,asortofliquidwarble,producedbytouchingthetonguetotheroofofthe
munden
mouthatshortintervalsinthemidstofthemusic—thereaderprobablyremembershowtodoit,ifhehaseverbeenaboy.Diligenceand
opmærksomhed
attentionsoongavehimtheknackofit,andhestrodedownthestreetwithhismunden
mouthfullofharmonyandhissoulfullofgratitude.Hefeltmuchasanastronomerfeelswhohasdiscoveredanewplanet—no
tvivl
doubt,asfarasstrong,dyb
deep,unalloyedpleasureisconcerned,theadvantagewaswiththeboy,nottheastronomer.Thesummereveningswerelong.
Itwasnot
mørkt
dark,yet.PresentlyTomcheckedhiswhistle.
Astrangerwasbeforehim—aboyashadelargerthanhimself.
Anew-comerofany
alder
ageoreithersexwasanimpressivecuriosityinthepoorlittleshabbylandsby
villageofSt.Petersburg.Thisboywaswell
klædt
dressed,too—welldressedonaweek-day.Thiswas
simpelthen
simplyastounding.Hiscapwasadaintything,hisclose-buttoned
blå
blueclothroundaboutwasnewandnatty,andsowerehispantaloons.Hehad
sko
shoeson—anditwasonlyFriday.Heeven
bar
woreanecktie,abrightbitofribbon.HehadacitifiedairabouthimthatateintoTom’svitals.
ThemoreTomstaredatthesplendidmarvel,thehigherheturneduphis
næsen
noseathisfineryandtheshabbierandshabbierhisownoutfitseemedtohimtovokse
grow.Neitherboyspoke.
Ifonemoved,theothermoved—butonlysidewise,inacircle;
theykeptfacetofaceand
øje
eyetoeyeallthetime.FinallyTomsaid:.
“Icanlickyou!”
“I’dliketoseeyoutryit.”
“Well,Icandoit.”
“Noyoucan’t,either.”
“YesIcan.”
“Noyoucan’t.”
“Ican.”
“Youcan’t.”
“Can!”
“Can’t!”
Anuncomfortablepause.
ThenTomsaid:.
“What’syourname?”
“’Tisn’tanyofyourbusiness,maybe.”
“WellI’lowI’llmakeitmybusiness.”
“Wellwhydon’tyou?”
“Ifyousaymuch,Iwill.”
“Much—much—much.
Therenow.”
“Oh,youthinkyou’remightysmart,don’tyou?
Icouldlickyouwithonehandtiedbehindme,ifIwantedto.”
“Wellwhydon’tyoudoit?
Yousayyoucandoit.”
“WellIwill,ifyoufoolwithme.”
“Ohyes—I’veseenwholefamiliesinthesamefix.”
“Smarty!
Youthinkyou’resome,now,don’tyou?
Oh,whatahat!”
“Youcanlumpthathatifyoudon’tlikeit.
Idareyoutoknockitoff—andanybodythat’lltakeadarewillsuckeggs.”
“You’realiar!”
“You’reanother.”
“You’reafightingliaranddasn’ttakeitup.”
“Aw—takeawalk!”
“Say—ifyougivememuchmoreofyoursassI’lltakeandbouncea
sten
rockoff’nyourhead.”“Oh,ofcourseyouwill.”
“WellIwill.”
“Wellwhydon’tyoudoitthen?
Whatdoyoukeepsayingyouwillfor?
Whydon’tyoudoit?
It’sbecauseyou’reafraid.”
“Iain’tafraid.”
“Youare.”
“Iain’t.”
“Youare.”
Anotherpause,andmoreeyingandsidlingaroundeachother.
Presentlytheywereshouldertoshoulder.
Tomsaid:.
“Getawayfromhere!”
“Goawayyourself!”
“Iwon’t.”
“Iwon’teither.”
Sotheystood,eachwitha
fod
footplacedatanangleasabrace,andbothshovingwithmightandmain,andgloweringateachotherwithhate.Butneithercouldgetanadvantage.
Afterstrugglingtillbothwerehotandflushed,eachrelaxedhisstrainwithwatchfulcaution,andTomsaid:.
“You’reacowardandapup.
I’lltellmybigbrotheronyou,andhecanthrashyouwithhislittlefinger,andI’llmakehimdoit,too.”
“WhatdoIcareforyourbigbrother?
I’vegotabrotherthat’s
større
biggerthanheis—andwhat’smore,hecankaste
throwhimoverthatfence,too.“That’salie.”