PREFACE
Mostoftheadventuresrecordedinthisbookreallyoccurred;
oneortwowereexperiencesofmyown,therestthoseofboyswhowereschoolmatesofmine.
Huck
Finn
Finnisdrawnfromlife;TomSawyeralso,butnotfromanindividual—heisa
combinazione
combinationofthecharacteristicsofthreeboyswhomIknew,andthereforebelongstothecompositeorderofarchitecture.TheoddsuperstitionstoucheduponwereallprevalentamongchildrenandslavesintheWestattheperiodofthisstory—thatistosay,thirtyorfortyyearsago.
Althoughmybookisintended
principalmente
mainlyfortheentertainmentofboysandgirls,Ihopeitwillnotbeevitato
shunnedbymenandwomenonthataccount,forpartofmyplanhasbeentotrytopleasantlyremindadultsofwhattheyoncewerethemselves,andofhowtheyfeltandthoughtandtalked,andwhatqueerenterprisestheysometimesimpegnavano
engagedin.THEAUTHOR.
CHAPTERI
“Tom!”
Noanswer.
“TOM!”
Noanswer.
“What’sgonewiththatboy,Iwonder?
YouTOM!”
Noanswer.
Theoldladypulledherspectaclesdownandlookedoverthemabouttheroom;
thensheputthemupandlookedoutunderthem.
She
raramente
seldomorneverlookedthroughthemforsosmallathingasaboy;theywereherstatepair,theprideofherheart,andwerebuiltfor“style,”notservice—shecouldhaveseenthroughapairofstove-lidsjustaswell.
Shelookedperplexedforamoment,andthensaid,notfiercely,butstillloudenoughforthe
mobili
furnituretohear:.“Well,IlayifIgetholdofyouI’ll—”.
Shedidnotfinish,forbythistimeshewasbendingdownandpunchingunderthebedwiththe
scopa
broom,andsosheneededbreathtopunctuatethepuncheswith.Sheresurrectednothingbutthecat.
“Ineverdidseethebeatofthatboy!”
Shewenttotheopendoorandstoodinitandlookedoutamongthe
pomodoro
tomatovinesand“jimpson”weedsthatconstitutedthegarden.NoTom.
Soshelifteduphervoiceatan
angolo
anglecalculatedfordistanceandshouted:.“Y-o-u-uTOM!”
Therewasa
leggero
slightnoisebehindherandsheturnedjustintimetoafferrare
seizeasmallboybytheslackofhisrotatoria
roundaboutandarresthisflight.“There!
Imight’a’thoughtofthatcloset.
Whatyoubeendoinginthere?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!
Lookatyourhands.
Andlookatyourmouth.
Whatisthattruck?”
“Idon’tknow,aunt.”
“Well,Iknow.
It’sjam—that’swhatitis.
FortytimesI’vesaidifyoudidn’tletthat
marmellata
jamaloneI’dskinyou.Handmethatswitch.”
Theswitchhoveredintheair—the
pericolo
perilwasdesperate—.“My!
Lookbehindyou,aunt!”
Theoldladywhirledround,and
strappato
snatchedherskirtsoutofdanger.The
ragazzo
ladfledontheinstant,arrampicò
scrambledupthehighboard-fence,anddisappearedoverit.HisauntPollystoodsurprisedamoment,andthenbrokeintoagentlelaugh.
“Hangtheboy,can’tIneverlearnanything?
Ain’theplayedmetricksenoughlikethatformetobelookingoutforhimbythistime?
Butoldfoolsisthebiggestfoolsthereis.
Can’tlearnanolddognewtricks,asthesayingis.
Butmygoodness,heneverplaysthemalike,twodays,andhowisabodytoknowwhat’scoming?
He’pearstoknowjusthowlonghecantormentmebeforeIgetmydanderup,andheknowsifhecanmakeouttoputmeoffforaminuteormakemelaugh,it’salldownagainandIcan’thithimalick.
Iain’tdoingmydutybythatboy,andthat’stheLord’struth,goodnessknows.
Sparetherodandspilethechild,astheGoodBooksays.
I’malayingupsinandsufferingforusboth,Iknow.
He’sfulloftheOldScratch,butlaws-a-me!
he’smyowndeadsister’sboy,poorthing,andIain’tgotthehearttolashhim,somehow.
EverytimeIlethimoff,my
coscienza
consciencedoeshurtmeso,andeverytimeIhithimmyoldheartmostbreaks.Well-a-well,manthatisbornofwomanisoffewdaysandfulloftrouble,astheScripturesays,andIreckonit’sso.
He’llplayhookeythisevening,[*]andI’lljustbeobleegedtomakehimwork,tomorrow,topunishhim.
It’smightyhardtomakehimworkSaturdays,whenalltheboysishavingholiday,buthehatesworkmorethanhehatesanythingelse,andI’vegottodosomeofmydutybyhim,orI’llbetheruinationofthechild.”
[*]Southwesternfor“afternoon”.
Tomdidplayhookey,andhehadaverygoodtime.
HegotbackhomebarelyinseasontohelpJim,thesmallcoloredboy,sawnext-day’swoodandsplitthekindlingsbeforesupper—atleasthewasthereintimetotellhisadventurestoJimwhileJimdidthree-fourthsofthework.
Tom’syoungerbrother(orratherhalf-brother)Sidwasalreadythroughwithhispartofthework(pickingupchips),forhewasaquietboy,andhadnoadventurous,trouble-someways.
WhileTomwaseatinghis
cena
supper,andstealingsugarasopportunityoffered,AuntPollyaskedhimquestionsthatwerefullofguile,andverydeep—forshewantedtotraphimintodamagingrevealments.Likemanyothersimple-heartedsouls,itwasher
animale domestico
petvanitytobelieveshewasendowedwithatalentfordarkandmysteriousdiplomazia
diplomacy,andshelovedtocontemplare
contemplatehermosttransparentdevicesasmarvelsoflowastuzia
cunning.Saidshe:.
“Tom,itwasmiddlingwarminschool,warn’tit?”
“Yes’m.”
“Powerfulwarm,warn’tit?”
“Yes’m.”
“Didn’tyouwanttogoina-swimming,Tom?”
AbitofascareshotthroughTom—atouchof
scomodo
uncomfortablesuspicion.HesearchedAuntPolly’sface,butittoldhimnothing.
Sohesaid:.
“No’m—well,notverymuch.”
TheoldladyreachedoutherhandandfeltTom’sshirt,andsaid:.
“Butyouain’ttoowarmnow,though.”
Anditflatteredherto
riflettere
reflectthatshehaddiscoveredthattheshirtwasdrywithoutanybodyknowingthatthatwaswhatshehadinhermind.Butinspiteofher,Tomknewwherethewindlay,now.
Soheforestalledwhatmightbethenextmove:.
“Someofuspumpedonourheads—mine’sdampyet.
See?”
AuntPollywasvexedtothinkshehad
trascurato
overlookedthatbitofcircumstantialevidence,andmissedatrick.Thenshehadanew
ispirazione
inspiration:.“Tom,youdidn’thavetoundoyourshirt
collare
collarwhereIsewedit,topumponyourhead,didyou?Unbuttonyourjacket!”
ThetroublevanishedoutofTom’sface.
Heopenedhisjacket.
Hisshirt
collare
collarwassecurelysewed.“Bother!
Well,go’longwithyou.
I’dmadesureyou’dplayedhookeyandbeena-swimming.
ButIforgiveye,Tom.
Ireckonyou’reakindofasingedcat,asthesayingis—better’nyoulook.
Thistime.”
Shewashalfsorryhersagacityhadmiscarried,andhalfgladthatTomhad
inciampato
stumbledintoobedientconductforonce.ButSidneysaid:.
“Well,now,ifIdidn’tthinkyou
cucito
sewedhiscollarwithwhitefilo
thread,butit’sblack.”“Why,Idid
cucito
sewitwithwhite!Tom!”
ButTomdidnotwaitfortherest.
Ashewentoutatthedoorhesaid:.
“Siddy,I’ll
leccherò
lickyouforthat.”InasafeplaceTom
esaminò
examinedtwolargeneedleswhichwerethrustintothelapelsofhisjacket,andhadfilo
threadboundaboutthem—oneneedlecarriedwhitefilo
threadandtheotherblack.Hesaid:.
“She’dnevernoticedifithadn’tbeenforSid.
Confoundit!
sometimesshe
cuce
sewsitwithwhite,andsometimesshecuce
sewsitwithblack.Iwishtogee-minyshe’dsticktooneort’other—Ican’tkeeptherunof’em.
ButIbetyouI’lllamSidforthat.
I’lllearnhim!”
HewasnottheModelBoyofthevillage.
Heknewthemodelboyverywellthough—and
detestava
loathedhim.Withintwominutes,orevenless,hehadforgottenallhistroubles.
Notbecausehistroubleswereonewhitlessheavyandbittertohimthanaman’saretoaman,butbecauseanewandpowerfulinterestborethemdownanddrovethemoutofhismindforthetime—justasmen’smisfortunesareforgottenintheexcitementofnewenterprises.
Thisnewinterestwasavalued
novità
noveltyinwhistling,whichhehadjustacquisito
acquiredfromanegro,andhewassufferingtopractiseitundisturbed.Itconsistedina
peculiare
peculiarbird-liketurn,asortofliquido
liquidwarble,producedbytouchingthetonguetotheroofofthemouthatshortintervalsinthemidstofthemusic—thelettore
readerprobablyremembershowtodoit,ifhehaseverbeenaboy.Diligenceandattentionsoongavehimtheknackofit,andhestrodedownthestreetwithhismouthfullof
armonia
harmonyandhissoulfullofgratitudine
gratitude.Hefeltmuchasanastronomerfeelswhohas
scoperto
discoveredanewplanet—nodoubt,asfarasstrong,deep,unalloyedpleasureisconcerned,theadvantagewaswiththeboy,nottheastronomer.Thesummereveningswerelong.
Itwasnotdark,yet.
Attualmente
PresentlyTomcheckedhiswhistle.Astrangerwasbeforehim—aboyashadelargerthanhimself.
Anew-comerofanyageoreithersexwasanimpressive
curiosità
curiosityinthepoorlittlesquallido
shabbyvillageofSt.Petersburg.Thisboywaswelldressed,too—welldressedonaweek-day.
Thiswassimplyastounding.
Hiscapwasadaintything,hisclose-buttonedblue
stoffa
clothroundaboutwasnewandnatty,andsowerehispantaloons.Hehadshoeson—anditwasonlyFriday.
Heevenworeanecktie,abrightbitof
nastro
ribbon.HehadacitifiedairabouthimthatateintoTom’svitals.
ThemoreTom
fissava
staredatthesplendidmarvel,thehigherheturneduphisnoseathisfineryandtheshabbierandshabbierhisownoutfitseemedtohimtogrow.Neitherboyspoke.
Ifonemoved,theothermoved—butonlysidewise,inacircle;
theykeptfacetofaceandeyetoeyeallthetime.
FinallyTomsaid:.
“Icanlickyou!”
“I’dliketoseeyoutryit.”
“Well,Icandoit.”
“Noyoucan’t,either.”
“YesIcan.”
“Noyoucan’t.”
“Ican.”
“Youcan’t.”
“Can!”
“Can’t!”
Anuncomfortable
pausa
pause.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’lltakeand
rimbalzare
bouncearockoff’nyourhead.”“Oh,ofcourseyouwill.”
“WellIwill.”
“Wellwhydon’tyoudoitthen?
Whatdoyoukeepsayingyouwillfor?
Whydon’tyoudoit?
It’sbecauseyou’reafraid.”
“Iain’tafraid.”
“Youare.”
“Iain’t.”
“Youare.”
Another
pausa
pause,andmoreeyingandsidlingaroundeachother.Attualmente
Presentlytheywereshouldertoshoulder.Tomsaid:.
“Getawayfromhere!”
“Goawayyourself!”
“Iwon’t.”
“Iwon’teither.”
Sotheystood,eachwithafootplacedatan
angolo
angleasabrace,andbothspingendo
shovingwithmightandmain,andgloweringateachotherwithhate.Butneithercouldgetanadvantage.
Afterstrugglingtillbothwerehotandflushed,eachrelaxedhis
tensione
strainwithwatchfulcaution,andTomsaid:.“You’reacowardandapup.
I’lltellmybigbrotheronyou,andhecanthrashyouwithhislittlefinger,andI’llmakehimdoit,too.”
“WhatdoIcareforyourbigbrother?
I’vegotabrotherthat’sbiggerthanheis—andwhat’smore,hecanthrowhimoverthatfence,too.
“That’salie.”