PREFACE
Mostoftheadventuresrecordedinthisbookreallyoccurred;
oneortwowereexperiencesofmyown,therestthoseofboyswhowereschoolmatesofmine.
HuckFinnisdrawnfromlife;
TomSawyeralso,butnotfromanindividual—heisacombinationofthecharacteristicsofthreeboyswhomIknew,and
daarom
thereforebelongstothecompositeorderofarchitecture.Theoddsuperstitionstoucheduponwereallprevalent
onder
amongchildrenandslavesintheWestattheperiode
periodofthisstory—thatistosay,thirtyorfortyyearsago.Althoughmybookisintendedmainlyfortheentertainmentofboysandgirls,Ihopeitwillnotbeshunnedbymenandwomenonthataccount,forpartofmyplanhasbeentotrytopleasantly
herinneren
remindadultsofwhattheyoncewerethemselves,andofhowtheyfeltandthoughtandtalked,andwhatqueerenterprisestheysometimesengagedin.THEAUTHOR.
CHAPTERI
“Tom!”
Noanswer.
“TOM!”
Noanswer.
“What’sgonewiththatboy,Iwonder?
YouTOM!”
Noanswer.
Theoldladypulledherspectaclesdownandlookedoverthemabouttheroom;
thensheputthemupandlookedoutunderthem.
Sheseldomorneverlookedthroughthemforsosmallathingasaboy;
theywereherstate
paar
pair,theprideofherheart,andwerebuiltfor“style,”notservice—shecouldhaveseenthroughapaar
pairofstove-lidsjustaswell.Shelookedperplexedforamoment,andthensaid,notfiercely,butstill
luid
loudenoughforthefurnituretohear:.“Well,IlayifIgetholdofyouI’ll—”.
Shedidnotfinish,forbythistimeshewasbendingdownandpunchingunderthebedwiththebroom,andsosheneeded
adem
breathtopunctuatethepuncheswith.Sheresurrectednothingbutthecat.
“Ineverdidseethebeatofthatboy!”
Shewenttotheopendoorandstoodinitandlookedout
tussen
amongthetomatovinesand“jimpson”weedsthatconstitutedthetuin
garden.NoTom.
Soshe
hief
lifteduphervoiceatananglecalculatedfordistanceandschreeuwde
shouted:.“Y-o-u-uTOM!”
Therewasaslight
geluid
noisebehindherandsheturnedjustintimetoseizeasmallboybytheslackofhisroundaboutandarresthisflight.“There!
Imight’a’thoughtofthat
kast
closet.Whatyoubeendoinginthere?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!
Lookatyourhands.
Andlookatyourmouth.
Whatisthattruck?”
“Idon’tknow,aunt.”
“Well,Iknow.
It’sjam—that’swhatitis.
FortytimesI’vesaidifyoudidn’tletthatjamaloneI’dskinyou.
Handmethatswitch.”
The
schakelaar
switchhoveredintheair—theperilwaswanhopig
desperate—.“My!
Lookbehindyou,aunt!”
Theoldladywhirledround,andsnatchedherskirtsoutofdanger.
Theladfledontheinstant,scrambledupthehighboard-fence,and
verdween
disappearedoverit.HisauntPollystoodsurprisedamoment,andthenbrokeintoagentlelaugh.
“Hangtheboy,can’tIneverlearnanything?
Ain’theplayedmetricksenoughlikethatformetobelookingoutforhimbythistime?
Butoldfoolsisthe
grootste
biggestfoolsthereis.Can’tlearnanolddognewtricks,asthesayingis.
Butmygoodness,heneverplaysthemalike,twodays,andhowisabodytoknowwhat’scoming?
He’pearstoknowjusthowlonghecantormentmebeforeIgetmydanderup,andheknowsifhecanmakeouttoputmeoffforaminuteormakemelaugh,it’salldownagainandIcan’thithimalick.
Iain’tdoingmydutybythatboy,andthat’stheLord’struth,goodnessknows.
Spaar
Sparetherodandspilethechild,astheGoodBooksays.I’malayingup
zonde
sinandsufferingforusboth,Iknow.He’sfulloftheOld
Scratch
Scratch,butlaws-a-me!he’smyowndeadsister’sboy,poorthing,andIain’tgotthehearttolashhim,somehow.
EverytimeIlethimoff,myconsciencedoeshurtmeso,andeverytimeIhithimmyoldheartmostbreaks.
Well-a-well,manthatisbornofwomanisoffewdaysandfulloftrouble,astheScripturesays,andIreckonit’sso.
He’llplayhookeythisevening,[*]andI’lljustbeobleegedtomakehimwork,tomorrow,topunishhim.
It’smightyhardtomakehimworkSaturdays,whenalltheboysishaving
vakantie
holiday,buthehatesworkmorethanhehatesanythingelse,andI’vegottodosomeofmydutybyhim,orI’llbetheruinationofthechild.”[*]Southwesternfor“afternoon”.
Tomdidplayhookey,andhehadaverygoodtime.
Hegotbackhome
nauwelijks
barelyinseasontohelpJim,thesmallcoloredboy,sawnext-day’shout
woodandsplitthekindlingsbeforesupper—atleasthewasthereintimetotellhisadventurestoJimwhileJimdidthree-fourthsofthework.Tom’s
jongere
youngerbrother(orratherhalf-brother)Sidwasalreadythroughwithhispartofthework(pickingupchips),forhewasaquietboy,andhadnoadventurous,trouble-someways.WhileTomwaseatinghissupper,andstealing
suiker
sugarasopportunityoffered,AuntPollyaskedhimquestionsthatwerefullofguile,andverydeep—forshewantedtoval
traphimintodamagingrevealments.Likemanyothersimple-heartedsouls,itwasherpetvanitytobelieveshewasendowedwitha
talent
talentfordarkandmysteriousdiplomacy,andshelovedtocontemplatehermosttransparentdevicesasmarvelsoflowcunning.Saidshe:.
“Tom,itwasmiddlingwarminschool,warn’tit?”
“Yes’m.”
“Powerfulwarm,warn’tit?”
“Yes’m.”
“Didn’tyouwanttogoina-swimming,Tom?”
Abitofa
schrik
scareshotthroughTom—atouchofuncomfortablesuspicion.HesearchedAuntPolly’sface,butittoldhimnothing.
Sohesaid:.
“No’m—well,notverymuch.”
TheoldladyreachedoutherhandandfeltTom’sshirt,andsaid:.
“Butyouain’ttoowarmnow,though.”
Anditflatteredhertoreflectthatshehaddiscoveredthattheshirtwas
droog
drywithoutanybodyknowingthatthatwaswhatshehadinhermind.Butinspiteofher,Tomknewwherethewindlay,now.
Soheforestalledwhatmightbethenextmove:.
“Someofuspumpedonourheads—mine’sdampyet.
See?”
AuntPollywasvexedtothinkshehadoverlookedthatbitofcircumstantialevidence,andmisseda
truc
trick.Thenshehadanewinspiration:.
“Tom,youdidn’thavetoundoyourshirtcollarwhereIsewedit,topumponyourhead,didyou?
Unbuttonyourjacket!”
ThetroublevanishedoutofTom’sface.
Heopenedhis
jas
jacket.Hisshirtcollarwassecurelysewed.
“Bother!
Well,go’longwithyou.
I’dmadesureyou’dplayedhookeyandbeena-swimming.
ButIforgiveye,Tom.
Ireckonyou’reakindofasingedcat,asthesayingis—better’nyoulook.
Thistime.”
Shewashalfsorryhersagacityhadmiscarried,andhalfgladthatTomhadstumbledintoobedientconductforonce.
ButSidneysaid:.
“Well,now,ifIdidn’tthinkyousewedhiscollarwithwhitethread,butit’sblack.”
“Why,Ididsewitwithwhite!
Tom!”
ButTomdidnotwaitfortherest.
Ashewentoutatthedoorhesaid:.
“Siddy,I’lllickyouforthat.”
InasafeplaceTomexaminedtwolargeneedleswhichwerethrustintothelapelsofhis
jas
jacket,andhadthreadboundaboutthem—oneneedlecarriedwhitethreadandtheotherblack.Hesaid:.
“She’dnevernoticedifithadn’tbeenforSid.
Confoundit!
sometimesshesewsitwithwhite,andsometimesshesewsitwithblack.
Iwishtogee-minyshe’dsticktooneort’other—Ican’tkeeptherunof’em.
ButIbetyouI’lllamSidforthat.
I’lllearnhim!”
Hewasnotthe
Model
ModelBoyofthevillage.Heknewthemodelboyverywellthough—andloathedhim.
Withintwominutes,orevenless,hehadforgottenallhistroubles.
Notbecausehistroubleswereonewhitlessheavyandbittertohimthanaman’saretoaman,butbecauseanewand
krachtige
powerfulinterestborethemdownanddrovethemoutofhismindforthetime—justasmen’smisfortunesareforgottenintheexcitementofnewenterprises.Thisnewinterestwasavaluednoveltyinwhistling,whichhehadjustacquiredfromanegro,andhewas
leed
sufferingtopractiseitundisturbed.Itconsistedinapeculiarbird-liketurn,asortofliquidwarble,producedbytouchingthe
tong
tonguetotheroofofthemouthatshortintervalsinthemidstofthemusic—thereaderprobablyremembershowtodoit,ifhehaseverbeenaboy.Diligenceandattentionsoongavehimtheknackofit,andhestrodedownthestreetwithhismouthfullofharmonyandhissoulfullofgratitude.
Hefeltmuchasanastronomerfeelswhohasdiscoveredanewplanet—nodoubt,asfarasstrong,deep,unalloyedpleasureis
betreft
concerned,theadvantagewaswiththeboy,nottheastronomer.Thesummereveningswerelong.
Itwasnotdark,yet.
PresentlyTomcheckedhiswhistle.
A
vreemdeling
strangerwasbeforehim—aboyashadelargerthanhimself.Anew-comerofanyageoreithersexwasan
indrukwekkende
impressivecuriosityinthepoorlittleshabbyvillageofSt.Petersburg.Thisboywaswelldressed,too—welldressedonaweek-day.
Thiswassimplyastounding.
Hiscapwasadaintything,hisclose-buttonedblueclothroundaboutwasnewandnatty,andsowerehispantaloons.
Hehadshoeson—anditwasonly
Vrijdag
Friday.Heevenworeanecktie,a
helder
brightbitofribbon.HehadacitifiedairabouthimthatateintoTom’svitals.
ThemoreTomstaredatthesplendidmarvel,the
hoger
higherheturneduphisnoseathisfineryandtheshabbierandshabbierhisownoutfitseemedtohimtogrow.Neitherboyspoke.
Ifonemoved,theothermoved—butonlysidewise,ina
cirkel
circle;theykeptfacetofaceandeyetoeyeallthetime.
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?
Icouldlickyouwithonehand
gebonden
tiedbehindme,ifIwantedto.”“Wellwhydon’tyoudoit?
Yousayyoucandoit.”
“WellIwill,ifyoufoolwithme.”
“Ohyes—I’veseenwholefamiliesinthesamefix.”
“Smarty!
Youthinkyou’resome,now,don’tyou?
Oh,whatahat!”
“Youcanlumpthat
hoed
hatifyoudon’tlikeit.Idareyoutoknockitoff—andanybodythat’lltakeadarewill
zuigen
suckeggs.”“You’realiar!”
“You’reanother.”
“You’reafighting
leugenaar
liaranddasn’ttakeitup.”“Aw—takeawalk!”
“Say—ifyougivememuchmoreofyoursassI’lltakeandbouncearockoff’nyourhead.”
“Oh,ofcourseyouwill.”
“WellIwill.”
“Wellwhydon’tyoudoitthen?
Whatdoyoukeepsayingyouwillfor?
Whydon’tyoudoit?
It’sbecauseyou’reafraid.”
“Iain’tafraid.”
“Youare.”
“Iain’t.”
“Youare.”
Anotherpause,andmoreeyingandsidlingaroundeachother.
Presentlytheywere
schouder
shouldertoshoulder.Tomsaid:.
“Getawayfromhere!”
“Goawayyourself!”
“Iwon’t.”
“Iwon’teither.”
Sotheystood,eachwithafootplacedatanangleasabrace,andbothshovingwithmightand
hoofd
main,andgloweringateachotherwithhate.Butneithercouldgetan
voordeel
advantage.Afterstrugglingtillbothwerehotandflushed,eachrelaxedhisstrainwithwatchfulcaution,andTomsaid:.
“You’rea
lafaard
cowardandapup.I’lltellmybigbrotheronyou,andhecanthrashyouwithhislittle
vinger
finger,andI’llmakehimdoit,too.”“WhatdoIcareforyourbigbrother?
I’vegotabrotherthat’sbiggerthanheis—andwhat’smore,hecanthrowhimoverthatfence,too.
“That’salie.”