PREFACE
Mostoftheadventuresrecordedinthisbookreally
inträffade
occurred;oneortwowereexperiencesofmyown,therestthoseofboyswhowereschoolmatesofmine.
Huck
Finn
Finnisdrawnfromlife;TomSawyeralso,butnotfromanindividual—heisa
kombination
combinationofthecharacteristicsofthreeboyswhomIknew,andthereforebelongstothecompositeorderofarkitektur
architecture.TheoddsuperstitionstoucheduponwereallprevalentamongchildrenandslavesintheWestattheperiodofthisstory—thatistosay,thirtyorfortyyearsago.
Althoughmybookis
tänkte
intendedmainlyfortheentertainmentofboysandgirls,Ihopeitwillnotbeshunnedbymenandwomenonthataccount,forpartofmyplanhasbeentotrytopleasantlyremindadultsofwhattheyoncewerethemselves,andofhowtheyfeltandthoughtandtalked,andwhatqueerenterprisestheysometimesengagerade
engagedin.THEAUTHOR.
CHAPTERI
“Tom!”
Noanswer.
“TOM!”
Noanswer.
“What’sgonewiththatboy,Iwonder?
YouTOM!”
Noanswer.
Theoldladypulledherspectaclesdownandlookedoverthemabouttheroom;
thensheputthemupandlookedoutunderthem.
She
sällan
seldomorneverlookedthroughthemforsosmallathingasaboy;theywereherstatepair,theprideofherheart,andwerebuiltfor“style,”notservice—shecouldhaveseenthroughapairofstove-lidsjustaswell.
Shelookedperplexedforamoment,andthensaid,not
våldsamt
fiercely,butstillloudenoughforthefurnituretohear:.“Well,IlayifIgetholdofyouI’ll—”.
Shedidnotfinish,forbythistimeshewas
böjde
bendingdownandpunchingunderthebedwiththebroom,andsosheneededbreathtopunctuatethepuncheswith.Sheresurrectednothingbutthecat.
“Ineverdidseethebeatofthatboy!”
Shewenttotheopendoorandstoodinitandlookedoutamongthe
tomat
tomatovinesand“jimpson”weedsthatconstitutedthegarden.NoTom.
Soshelifteduphervoiceatan
vinkel
anglecalculatedfordistanceandshouted:.“Y-o-u-uTOM!”
Therewasaslightnoisebehindherandsheturnedjustintimeto
gripa
seizeasmallboybytheslack
slackofhisroundaboutandarresthisflight.“There!
Imight’a’thoughtofthatcloset.
Whatyoubeendoinginthere?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!
Lookatyourhands.
Andlookatyourmouth.
Whatisthattruck?”
“Idon’tknow,aunt.”
“Well,Iknow.
It’sjam—that’swhatitis.
FortytimesI’vesaidifyoudidn’tletthatjamaloneI’dskinyou.
Handmethatswitch.”
Theswitch
svävade
hoveredintheair—theperilwasdesperate—.“My!
Lookbehindyou,aunt!”
Theoldladywhirledround,andsnatchedherskirtsoutofdanger.
Thelad
flydde
fledontheinstant,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.
Sparethe
staven
rodandspilethechild,astheGoodBooksays.I’malayingupsinandsufferingforusboth,Iknow.
He’sfulloftheOldScratch,butlaws-a-me!
he’smyowndeadsister’sboy,poorthing,andIain’tgotthehearttolashhim,somehow.
EverytimeIlethimoff,my
samvete
consciencedoeshurtmeso,andeverytimeIhithimmyoldheartmostbreaks.Well-a-well,manthatisbornofwomanisoffewdaysandfulloftrouble,asthe
Skriften
Scripturesays,andIreckonit’sso.He’llplayhookeythisevening,[*]andI’lljustbeobleegedtomakehimwork,tomorrow,to
straffa
punishhim.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.
WhileTomwaseatinghissupper,andstealingsugarasopportunityoffered,AuntPollyaskedhimquestionsthatwerefullofguile,andverydeep—forshewantedtotraphimintodamagingrevealments.
Likemanyothersimple-heartedsouls,itwasher
älsklings
petvanitytobelieveshewasendowedwithatalentfordarkandmystisk
mysteriousdiplomacy,andshelovedtoöverväga
contemplatehermosttransparentdevicesasmarvelsoflowcunning.Saidshe:.
“Tom,itwasmiddlingwarminschool,warn’tit?”
“Yes’m.”
“Powerfulwarm,warn’tit?”
“Yes’m.”
“Didn’tyouwanttogoina-swimming,Tom?”
AbitofascareshotthroughTom—atouchof
obekväm
uncomfortablesuspicion.HesearchedAuntPolly’sface,butittoldhimnothing.
Sohesaid:.
“No’m—well,notverymuch.”
TheoldladyreachedoutherhandandfeltTom’sshirt,andsaid:.
“Butyouain’ttoowarmnow,though.”
Andit
smickrade
flatteredhertoreflectthatshehadupptäckt
discoveredthattheshirtwasdrywithoutanybodyknowingthatthatwaswhatshehadinhermind.Butin
trots
spiteofher,Tomknewwherethewindlay,now.Soheforestalledwhatmightbethenextmove:.
“Someofus
pumpade
pumpedonourheads—mine’sdampyet.See?”
AuntPollywasvexedtothinkshehad
förbisett
overlookedthatbitofcircumstantialevidence,andmissedatrick.Thenshehadanew
inspiration
inspiration:.“Tom,youdidn’thavetoundoyourshirtcollarwhereI
sydde
sewedit,topumponyourhead,didyou?Unbuttonyourjacket!”
Thetrouble
försvann
vanishedoutofTom’sface.Heopenedhisjacket.
Hisshirtcollarwassecurely
sytt
sewed.“Bother!
Well,go’longwithyou.
I’dmadesureyou’dplayedhookeyandbeena-swimming.
ButIforgiveye,Tom.
Ireckonyou’reakindofasingedcat,asthesayingis—better’nyoulook.
Thistime.”
Shewashalfsorryhersagacityhadmiscarried,andhalfgladthatTomhad
snubblat
stumbledintoobedientconductforonce.ButSidneysaid:.
“Well,now,ifIdidn’tthinkyou
sydde
sewedhiscollarwithwhitetråd
thread,butit’sblack.”“Why,Idid
sydde
sewitwithwhite!Tom!”
ButTomdidnotwaitfortherest.
Ashewentoutatthedoorhesaid:.
“Siddy,I’ll
slickar
lickyouforthat.”InasafeplaceTom
undersökte
examinedtwolargeneedleswhichwerethrustintothelapelsofhisjacket,andhadtråd
threadboundaboutthem—oneneedlecarriedwhitetråd
threadandtheotherblack.Hesaid:.
“She’dnevernoticedifithadn’tbeenforSid.
Confoundit!
sometimesshesewsitwithwhite,andsometimesshesewsitwithblack.
Iwishtogee-minyshe’dsticktooneort’other—Ican’tkeeptherunof’em.
ButIbetyouI’lllamSidforthat.
I’lllearnhim!”
HewasnottheModelBoyofthevillage.
Heknewthemodelboyverywellthough—and
avskydde
loathedhim.Withintwominutes,orevenless,hehadforgottenallhistroubles.
Notbecausehistroubleswereonewhitlessheavyandbittertohimthanaman’saretoaman,butbecauseanewandpowerfulinterestborethemdownanddrovethemoutofhismindforthetime—justasmen’smisfortunesareforgottenintheexcitementofnewenterprises.
Thisnewinterestwasavalued
nyhet
noveltyinwhistling,whichhehadjustförvärvat
acquiredfromanegro,andhewassufferingtoutöva
practiseitundisturbed.Itconsistedina
egendomlig
peculiarbird-liketurn,asortofflytande
liquidwarble,producedbytouchingthetonguetotheroofofthemouthatshortintervalsinthemidstofthemusic—thereaderprobablyremembershowtodoit,ifhehaseverbeenaboy.Diligenceandattentionsoongavehimtheknackofit,andhestrodedownthestreetwithhismouthfullof
harmoni
harmonyandhissoulfulloftacksamhet
gratitude.Hefeltmuchasanastronomerfeelswhohas
upptäckt
discoveredanewplanet—nodoubt,asfarasstrong,deep,unalloyedpleasureisconcerned,theadvantagewaswiththeboy,nottheastronomer.Thesummereveningswerelong.
Itwasnotdark,yet.
Närvarande
PresentlyTomcheckedhiswhistle.Astrangerwasbeforehim—aboya
skugga
shadelargerthanhimself.A
nykomling
new-comerofanyageoreithersexwasanimpressivenyfikenhet
curiosityinthepoorlittleshabbyvillageofSt.Petersburg.Thisboywaswelldressed,too—welldressedonaweek-day.
Thiswassimplyastounding.
His
mössa
capwasadaintything,hisclose-buttonedbluetyg
clothroundaboutwasnewandnatty,andsowerehispantaloons.Hehadshoeson—anditwasonlyFriday.
Heevenworeanecktie,abrightbitof
band
ribbon.HehadacitifiedairabouthimthatateintoTom’svitals.
ThemoreTom
stirrade
staredatthesplendidmarvel,thehigherheturneduphisnoseathisfineryandtheshabbierandshabbierhisownklädsel
outfitseemedtohimtogrow.Neitherboyspoke.
Ifonemoved,theothermoved—butonlysidewise,inacircle;
theykeptfacetofaceandeyetoeyeallthetime.
FinallyTomsaid:.
“Ican
slicka
lickyou!”“I’dliketoseeyoutryit.”
“Well,Icandoit.”
“Noyoucan’t,either.”
“YesIcan.”
“Noyoucan’t.”
“Ican.”
“Youcan’t.”
“Can!”
“Can’t!”
An
obekväm
uncomfortablepause.ThenTomsaid:.
“What’syourname?”
“’Tisn’tanyofyourbusiness,maybe.”
“WellI’lowI’llmakeitmybusiness.”
“Wellwhydon’tyou?”
“Ifyousaymuch,Iwill.”
“Much—much—much.
Therenow.”
“Oh,youthinkyou’remightysmart,don’tyou?
Icould
slicka
lickyouwithonehandtiedbehindme,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
studsar
bouncearockoff’nyourhead.”“Oh,ofcourseyouwill.”
“WellIwill.”
“Wellwhydon’tyoudoitthen?
Whatdoyoukeepsayingyouwillfor?
Whydon’tyoudoit?
It’sbecauseyou’reafraid.”
“Iain’tafraid.”
“Youare.”
“Iain’t.”
“Youare.”
Another
paus
pause,andmoreeyingandsidlingaroundeachother.Närvarande
Presentlytheywereshouldertoshoulder.Tomsaid:.
“Getawayfromhere!”
“Goawayyourself!”
“Iwon’t.”
“Iwon’teither.”
Sotheystood,eachwithafootplacedatan
vinkel
angleasabrace,andbothshovingwithmightandmain,andgloweringateachotherwithhate.Butneithercouldgetanadvantage.
Afterstrugglingtillbothwerehotandflushed,eachrelaxedhisstrainwithwatchful
försiktighet
caution,andTomsaid:.“You’reacowardandapup.
I’lltellmybigbrotheronyou,andhecanthrashyouwithhislittlefinger,andI’llmakehimdoit,too.”
“WhatdoIcareforyourbigbrother?
I’vegotabrotherthat’sbiggerthanheis—andwhat’smore,hecanthrowhimoverthat
stängslet
fence,too.“That’salie.”