Mark Twain ..............................................................................................................................................1

MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one or two were experiences of my own, the

rest those of boys who were schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, but not

from an individual he is a combination of the characteristics of three boys whom I knew, and therefore

The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children and slaves in the West at the period of

Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls, 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 what they

once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they

The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room; then she put them up and

looked out under them. She seldom or never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were

her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not service she could have seen through a

pair of stovelids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud

She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching under the bed with the broom, and so

she needed breath to punctuate the punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat.

She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that

constituted the garden. No Tom. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted:

There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to seize a small boy by the slack of his

"Well, I know. It's jam that's what it is. Forty times I've said if you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you.

The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up

"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricks enough like that for me to be looking

out for him by this time? But old fools 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 how long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he can make

out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down again 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 spile the child, as the Good

Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for us both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but lawsame!

he's my own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash him, somehow. Every time I let him

off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Wellawell, man

that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the Scripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play

hookey this evening, * and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him work,

tomorrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday,

but he hates work more than he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him, or I'll be the

Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home barely in season to help Jim, the small

colored boy, saw nextday's wood and split the kindlings before supper at least he was there in time to tell

his adventures to Jim while Jim did threefourths of the work. Tom's younger brother (or rather halfbrother)

Sid was already through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a quiet boy, and had no

While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions

that were full of guile, and very deep for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like many

other simplehearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she was endowed with a talent for dark and

mysterious diplomacy, and she loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low cunning.

A bit of a scare shot through Tom a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Aunt Polly's face, but

"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect that she had discovered that the shirt was

dry without anybody knowing that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew where

Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick.

"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to pump on your head, did you? Unbutton

The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His shirt collar was securely sewed.

"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey and been aswimming. But I forgive ye,

Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a singed cat, as the saying is better'n you look. THIS time."

She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom had stumbled into obedient conduct

"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, but it's black."

In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into the lapels of his jacket, and had

thread bound about them one needle carried white thread and the other black. He said:

"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimes she sews it with white, and sometimes

she sews it with black. I wish to geeminy she'd stick to one or t'other I can't keep the run of 'em. But I bet

He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very well 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 him than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore them

down and drove them out of his mind for the time just as men's misfortunes are forgotten in the

excitement of new enterprises. This new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just

acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. It consisted in a peculiar birdlike

turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short intervals in the

midst of the music the reader probably remembers how to do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and

attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his

soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet no doubt, as

far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer.

The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom checked his whistle. A stranger was

before him a boy a shade larger than himself. A newcomer of any age or either sex was an impressive

curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy was well dressed, too well dressed on

a weekday. This was simply astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his closebuttoned blue cloth

roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes on and it was only Friday. He

even wore a necktie, a bright bit of ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The more

Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his nose at his finery and the shabbier and

shabbier his own outfit seemed to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved but

only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all the time. Finally Tom said:

"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I wanted

"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it off and anybody that'll take a dare will

"Say if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a rock off'n your head."

"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for? Why don't you DO it? It's

Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom

So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and both shoving with might and main, and

glowering at each other with hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both were hot and

"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he can thrash you with his little finger, and

"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger than he is and what's more, he can

"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal

The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out with derision. Tom struck them to

the ground. In an instant both boys were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; and for

the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and clothes, punched and scratched each other's

nose, and covered themselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and through the fog of

battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and pounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he.

The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, snuffling, and occasionally looking back

and shaking his head and threatening 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, and as soon as his back was turned the new boy

snatched up a stone, threw it and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like an antelope.

Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he lived. He then held a position at the gate for some

time, daring the enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the window and

declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him

He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in at 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 turn his

Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its firmness.

SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life.

There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in

every face and a spring in every step. The locusttrees were in bloom and the fragrance of the blossoms filled

the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far enough

Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a longhandled brush. He surveyed the fence,

and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board fence nine

feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it

along the topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak

with the farreaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a treebox discouraged. Jim came

skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from the town pump had

always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there

was company at the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there waiting their turns,

resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was

only a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under an hour and even then

"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody.

She say she spec' Mars Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend to my own

"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always talks. Gimme the bucket I won't be

"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n me. 'Deed she would."

"SHE! She never licks anybody whacks 'em over the head with her thimble and who cares for that, I'd

like to know. She talks awful, but talk don't hurt anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you a

"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful 'fraid ole missis "

Jim was only human this attraction was too much for him. He put down his pail, took the white alley, and

bent over the toe with absorbing interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was

flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly

But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had planned for this day, and his sorrows

multiplied. Soon the free boys would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and they

would make a world of fun of him for having to work the very thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out

his worldly wealth and examined it bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an exchange of

WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an hour of pure freedom. So he returned his

straitened means to his pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark and hopeless

moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a great, magnificent inspiration.

He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in sight presently the very boy, of all

boys, whose ridicule he had been dreading. Ben's gait was the hopskipandjump proof enough that his

heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and giving a long, melodious whoop, at

intervals, followed by a deeptoned dingdong dong, dingdongdong, for he was personating a steamboat.

As he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned far over to starboard and rounded

to ponderously and with laborious pomp and circumstance for he was personating the Big Missouri, and

considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and captain and enginebells combined, so

he had to imagine himself standing on his own hurricanedeck giving the orders and executing them:

"Stop her, sir! Tingalingling!" The headway ran almost out, and he drew up slowly toward the sidewalk.

"Ship up to back! Tingalingling!" His arms straightened and stiffened down his sides.

"Set her back on the stabboard! Tingalingling! Chow! chchowwow! Chow!" His right hand,

"Let her go back on the labboard! Tingalingling ! Chowchchowchow!" The left hand began to

"Stop the stabboard! Tingalingling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your

outside turn over slow! Tingalingling! Chowowow! Get out that headline! LIVELY now! Come

out with your springline what're you about there! Take a turn round that stump with the bight of it! Stand

by that stage, now let her go! Done with the engines, sir! Tingalingling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!" (trying

Tom went on whitewashing paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben stared a moment and then said:

No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then he gave his brush another gentle sweep

and surveyed the result, as before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the apple, but

"Say I'm going in aswimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of course you'd druther WORK

"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?"

That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth

stepped back to note the effect added a touch here and there criticised the effect again Ben

watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:

"No no I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's awful 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 very careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a

"No is that so? Oh come, now lemme just try. Only just a little I'd let YOU, if you was me, Tom."

"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly well, Jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid

wanted to do it, and she wouldn't let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this fence

"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say I'll give you the core of my apple."

Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his heart. And while the late steamer Big

Missouri worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his

legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents. There was no lack of material; boys

happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time Ben was fagged

out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny

Miller bought in for 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 being a poor povertystricken boy in the morning, Tom was

literally rolling in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jewsharp, a

piece of blue bottleglass to look through, a spool 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, six firecrackers, a kitten with only

one eye, a brass doorknob, a dogcollar but no dog the handle of a knife, four pieces of orangepeel,

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 out of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village.

Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He had 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 only necessary

to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book,

he would now have comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, and that Play

consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And this would help him to understand why constructing

artificial flowers or performing on a treadmill is work, while rolling tenpins or climbing Mont Blanc is

only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in England who drive fourhorse passengercoaches twenty or

thirty miles on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them considerable 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 place in his worldly circumstances, and

TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an open window in a pleasant rearward

apartment, which was bedroom, breakfastroom, diningroom, and library, combined. The balmy summer

air, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmur of 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. Her

spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thought that of course Tom had deserted

long ago, and she wondered at seeing him place himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He said:

Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see for 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 even a streak added to the ground, her

"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you're a mind to, Tom." And then she diluted

the compliment by adding, "But it's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long and

She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took him into the closet and selected a

choice apple and delivered it to him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a treat

took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. And while she closed with a happy Scriptural

Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway that led to the back rooms on the

second floor. Clods were handy and the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a

hailstorm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties and 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 general

thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at peace, now that he had settled with Sid

Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by the back of his aunt's cowstable. He

presently got safely beyond the reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square of

the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for conflict, according to previous appointment.

Tom was General of one of these armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These two great

commanders did not condescend to fight in person that being better suited to the still smaller fry but

sat together on an eminence and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through aidesdecamp.

Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and hardfought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners

exchanged, the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the necessary battle appointed;

after which the armies fell into line and marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone.

As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new girl in the garden a lovely little

blueeyed creature with yellow hair plaited into two longtails, white summer frock and embroidered

pantalettes. The freshcrowned hero fell without firing a shot. A certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his

heart and left not even a memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction; he had

regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor little evanescent partiality. He had been

months winning her; she had confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest boy in

the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time she had gone out of his heart like a casual

He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she had 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 to win her

admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some time; but byandby, while he was in the midst of

some dangerous gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl was wending her way

toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile

longer. She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom heaved a great sigh as she

put her foot on the threshold. But his face lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment

The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and then shaded his eyes with his hand

and began to look down street as if he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction.

Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his nose, 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; finally his bare foot

rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the

corner. But only for a minute only while he could button the flower inside his jacket, next his heart or

next his stomach, possibly, for he was not much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway.

He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing off," as before; but the girl never

exhibited herself again, though Tom comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some

window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode home reluctantly, with his poor head

All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered "what had got into the child." He took a

good scolding about clodding Sid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar under his

"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into that sugar if I warn't watching you."

Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his immunity, reached for the sugarbowl a sort

of glorying over Tom which was wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped and

broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even controlled his tongue and was silent. He said to

himself that he would not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly still till she

asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and there 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 hold himself when the old lady

came back and stood above the wreck discharging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said to

himself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling on the floor! The potent palm was uplifted

Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But when she got her tongue again, she only

"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some other audacious mischief when I

Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something kind and loving; but she judged that

this would be construed into a confession 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 heart his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the

consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice of 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 pictured

himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching one little forgiving word, but he

would turn his face to the wall, and die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured

himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and his sore heart at rest. How she would

throw herself upon him, and how her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back her boy

and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would lie there cold and white and make no sign

a poor little sufferer, whose griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos of these

dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which

overflowed when he winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a luxury to him

was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight

intrude upon it; it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin Mary danced in, all

alive with the joy of seeing home again after an agelong visit of one week to the country, he got up and

moved in clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in at the other.

He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought desolate places that were in harmony with

his spirit. A log raft in the river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and contemplated the

dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, that he could only be drowned, all at once and

unconsciously, without undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought of his

flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she

would pity him if she knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms around his neck and

comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of

pleasurable suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it up in new and varied lights,

till he wore it threadbare. At last he rose up sighing and departed in the darkness.

About halfpast nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted street to where the Adored Unknown lived; he

paused a moment; no sound fell upon his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon the curtain of a

secondstory window. Was the sacred presence there? He climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way

through the plants, till he 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 upon his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast

and holding his poor wilted flower. And thus he would die out in the cold world, with no shelter over his

homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the deathdamps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly

over him when the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she looked out upon the glad

morning, and oh! would she drop one little tear upon his poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh

The window went up, a maidservant's discordant voice profaned the holy calm, and a deluge of water

The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz as of a missile in the air, mingled with

the murmur of a curse, a sound as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the fence

Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying his drenched garments by the light of a tallow

dip, Sid woke up; but if he had any dim idea of making any "references to allusions," he thought better of it

Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made mental note of the omission.

THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful village like a benediction.

Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid

courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of originality; and from the summit of

Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get his verses." Sid had learned his lesson

days before. Tom bent all his energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the Sermon on

the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter. At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague

general idea of his lesson, but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human thought, and his

hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his

"For THEIRS. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn,

"Oh, SHALL! for they shall for they shall a a shall mourn a a blessed are they that

shall they that a they that shall mourn, for they shall a shall WHAT? Why don't you tell me,

"Oh, Tom, you poor thickheaded thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't do that. You must go and learn it

again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom, you'll manage it and if you do, I'll give you something ever so

And he did "tackle it again" and under the double pressure of curiosity and prospective gain he did it with

such spirit that he accomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brandnew "Barlow" knife worth twelve

and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that swept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the

knife would not cut anything, but it was a "sureenough" Barlow, and there was inconceivable grandeur in

that though where the Western boys ever got the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited

to its injury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom contrived to scarify the

cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for

Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went outside the door and set the basin on a

little bench there; then he dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves; poured out the

water on the ground, gently, and then entered the kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel

Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time he stood over it a little while, gathering

resolution; took in a big breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes shut and

groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony of suds and water was dripping from his face.

But when he emerged from the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped short at his

chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that

spread downward in front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she was done

with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed,

and its short curls wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately smoothed out the curls,

with labor and difficulty, and plastered his hair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, and

his own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of his clothing that had been used only on

Sundays during two years they were simply called his "other clothes" and so by that we know the size

of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed himself; she buttoned his neat roundabout

up to his chin, turned his vast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned him with his

speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable

as he looked; for there was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He hoped that

Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the

custom, and brought them out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do everything he

So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three children set out for Sundayschool

Sabbathschool hours were from nine to halfpast ten; and then church service. Two of the children always

remained for the sermon voluntarily, and the other always remained too for stronger reasons. The church's

highbacked, uncushioned pews would seat about three hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain

affair, with a sort of pine board treebox on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom dropped back a step and

Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. Then Tom traded a couple of white

alleys for three red tickets, and some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other boys as

they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church,

now, with a swarm of clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a quarrel with the first

boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave, elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom

pulled a boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy turned around; stuck a pin

in another boy, presently, in order to hear him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's

whole class were of a pattern restless, noisy, and troublesome. When they came to recite their lessons, not

one of them knew his verses perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried through, and

each got his reward in small blue tickets, each with a passage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay

for two verses of the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be exchanged for it; ten red

tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible

(worth forty cents in those easy times) to the pupil. How many of my readers would have the industry and

application to memorize two thousand verses, even for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles

in this way it was the patient work of two years and a boy of German parentage had won four or five.

He once recited three thousand verses without stopping; but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great,

and he was little better than an idiot from that day forth a grievous misfortune for the school, for on great

occasions, before company, the superintendent (as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy come out and

"spread himself." Only the older pupils managed to keep their tickets and stick to their tedious work long

enough to get a Bible, and so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthy circumstance; the

successful pupil was so great and conspicuous for that day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired

with a fresh ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom's mental stomach had never

really hungered for one of those prizes, but unquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the

In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with a closed hymnbook in his hand and his

forefinger inserted between its leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sundayschool superintendent

makes his customary little speech, a hymnbook in the hand is as necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music

in the hand of a singer who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert though why, is a

mystery: for neither the hymnbook nor the sheet of music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This

superintendent was a slim creature of thirtyfive, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair; he wore a stiff

standingcollar whose upper edge almost reached his ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the

corners of his mouth a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning of the whole body

when a side view was required; his chin was propped on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long

as a banknote, and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the fashion of the day, like

sleighrunners an effect patiently and laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes

pressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest of mien, and very sincere and honest

at heart; and he held sacred things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly matters,

that unconsciously to himself his Sundayschool voice had acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly

"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty as you can and give me all your attention

for a minute or two. There that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see one little

girl who is looking out of the window I am afraid she thinks I am out there somewhere perhaps up in

one of the trees making a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you how good it makes

me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be

good." And so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the oration. It was of a pattern which

The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights and other recreations among certain of

the bad boys, and by fidgetings and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases of

isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every sound ceased suddenly, with the

subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and the conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent

A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which was more or less rare the entrance

of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, accompanied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middleaged

gentleman with irongray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless the latter's wife. The lady was leading

a child. Tom had been restless and full of chafings and repinings; consciencesmitten, too he could not

meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But when he saw this small newcomer his

soul was all ablaze with bliss in a moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might

cuffing boys, pulling hair, making faces in a word, using every art that seemed likely to fascinate a girl

and win her applause. His exaltation had but one alloy the memory of his humiliation in this angel's

garden and that record in sand was fast washing out, under the waves of happiness that were sweeping

The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. Walters' speech was finished, he

introduced them to the school. The middleaged man turned out to be a prodigious personage no less a

one than the county judge altogether the most august creation these children had ever looked upon and

they wondered what kind of material he was made of and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half

afraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away so he had travelled, and seen the

world these very eyes had looked upon the county courthouse which was said to have a tin roof. The

awe which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence and the ranks of staring eyes. This

was the great Judge Thatcher, brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to be

familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would have been music to his soul to hear the

"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say look! he's a going to shake hands with him he IS

Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official bustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering

judgments, discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a target. The librarian "showed

off" running hither and thither with his arms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that

insect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off" bending sweetly over pupils that were

lately being boxed, lifting pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good ones lovingly. The young

gentlemen teachers "showed off" with small scoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention

to discipline and most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business up at the library, by the pulpit; and it

was business that frequently had to be done over again two or three times (with much seeming vexation). The

little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys "showed off" with such diligence that the air was

thick with paper wads and the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat and beamed a majestic

judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himself in the sun of his own grandeur for he was "showing

There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy complete, and that was a chance to deliver a

Bibleprize and exhibit a prodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough he had

been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given worlds, now, to have that German lad

And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward with nine yellow tickets, nine red

tickets, and ten blue ones, and demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters was not

expecting an application from this source for the next ten years. But there was no getting around it here

were the certified checks, and they were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevated to a place with the

Judge and the other elect, and the great news was announced from headquarters. It was the most stunning

surprise of the decade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero up to the judicial one's

altitude, and the school had two marvels to gaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy

but those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too late that they themselves had

contributed to this hated splendor by trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling

whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in

The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the superintendent could pump up under the

circumstances; but it lacked somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him that there

was a mystery here that could not well bear the light, perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had

warehoused two thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises a dozen would strain his

Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in her face but he wouldn't look.

She wondered; then she was just a grain troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went came again; she

watched; a furtive glance told her worlds and then her heart broke, and she was jealous, and angry, and

Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath would hardly come, his heart quaked

partly because of the awful greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would have liked

to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a

fine little man, and asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out:

"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very well. But you've another one I daresay, and

"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say sir. You mustn't forget your manners."

"That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. Two thousand verses is a great many

very, very great many. And you never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; for knowledge is

worth more than anything there is in the world; it's what makes great men and good men; you'll be a great

man and a good man yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all owing to the

precious Sundayschool privileges of my boyhood it's all owing to my dear teachers that taught me to

learn it's all owing to the good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and gave me a

beautiful Bible a splendid elegant Bible to keep and have it all for my own, always it's all owing to

right bringing up! That is what you will say, Thomas and you wouldn't take any money for those two

thousand verses no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind telling me and this lady some of the

things you've learned no, I know you wouldn't for we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no doubt

you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us the names of the first two that were

Tom was tugging at a buttonhole and looking sheepish. He blushed, now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters'

heart sank within him. He said to himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest question

"Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first two disciples were "

ABOUT halfpast ten the cracked bell of the small church began to ring, and presently the people began to

gather for the morning sermon. The Sundayschool children distributed themselves about the house and

occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary

sat with her Tom being placed next the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open window

and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd filed up the aisles: the aged and needy

postmaster, who had seen better days; the mayor and his wife for they had a mayor there, among other

unnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglass, fair, smart, and forty, a generous, goodhearted

soul and welltodo, her hill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and much the

most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg could boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs.

Ward; lawyer Riverson, the new notable from a distance; next the belle of the village, followed by a troop of

lawnclad and ribbondecked young heartbreakers; then all the young clerks in town in a body for they

had stood in the vestibule sucking their caneheads, a circling wall of oiled and simpering admirers, till the

last girl had run their gantlet; and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful care of

his mother as if she were cut glass. He always brought his mother to church, and was the pride of all the

matrons. The boys all hated him, he was so good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them" so much.

His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as usual on Sundays accidentally. Tom had

The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more, to warn laggards and stragglers, and

then a solemn hush fell upon the church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the choir in

the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered all through service. There was once a church choir that

was not illbred, but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago, and I can scarcely

The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in a peculiar style which was much

admired in that part of the country. His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached a

certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost word and then plunged down as if from a

He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he was always called upon to read poetry; and

when he was through, the ladies would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps, and "wall"

their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Words cannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO

After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into a bulletinboard, and read off

"notices" of meetings and societies and things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of

doom a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities, away here in this age of abundant

newspapers. Often, the less there is to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it.

And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went into details: it pleaded for the church,

and the little children of the church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself; for the county;

for the State; for the State officers; for the United States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress;

for the President; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed by stormy seas; for the

oppressed millions groaning under the heel of European monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as

have the light and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear withal; for the heathen in the

far islands of the sea; and closed with a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace

and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a grateful harvest of good. Amen.

There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat down. The boy whose history this book

relates did not enjoy the prayer, he only endured it if he even did that much. He was restive all through it;

he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of

old, and the clergyman's regular route over it and when a little trifle of new matter was interlarded, his ear

detected it and his whole nature resented it; he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the midst of

the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of him and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its

hands together, embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that it seemed to almost part

company with the body, and the slender thread of a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings with its

hind legs and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coattails; going through its whole toilet as

tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectly safe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom's hands itched to grab for

it they did not dare he believed his soul would be instantly destroyed if he did such a thing while the

prayer was going on. But with the closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward; and the instant

the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt detected the act and made him let it go.

The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through an argument that was so prosy that

many a head by and by began to nod and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone

and thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be hardly worth the saving. Tom counted

the pages of the sermon; after church he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew

anything else about the discourse. However, this time he was really interested for a little while. The minister

made a grand and moving picture of the assembling together of the world's hosts at the millennium when the

lion and the lamb should lie down together and a little child should lead them. But the pathos, the lesson, the

moral of the great spectacle were lost upon the boy; he only thought of the conspicuousness of the principal

character before the onlooking nations; his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that he wished he

Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed. Presently he bethought him of a

treasure he had and got it out. It was a large black beetle with formidable jaws a "pinchbug," he called it.

It was in a percussioncap box. The first thing the beetle did was to take him by the finger. A natural fillip

followed, the beetle went floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt finger went into the boy's

mouth. The beetle lay there working its helpless legs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but

it was safe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon found relief in the beetle, and they eyed

it too. Presently a vagrant poodle dog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and the

quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle; the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He

surveyed the prize; walked around it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again; grew bolder,

and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made a gingerly snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and

another; began to enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetle between his paws, and

continued his experiments; grew weary at last, and then indifferent and absentminded. His head nodded, and

little by little his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. There was a sharp yelp, a flirt of the

poodle's head, and the beetle fell a couple of yards away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboring

spectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind fans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was

entirely happy. The dog looked foolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart, too, and a

craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a wary attack on it again; jumping at it from every

point of a circle, lighting with his forepaws within an inch of the creature, making even closer snatches at it

with his teeth, and jerking his head till his ears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, after a while;

tried to amuse himself with a fly but found no relief; followed an ant around, with his nose close to the floor,

and quickly wearied of that; yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then there was a

wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up the aisle; the yelps continued, and so did the dog; he

crossed the house in front of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; he crossed before the doors; he clamored

up the homestretch; his anguish grew with his progress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in

its orbit with the gleam and the speed of light. At last the frantic sufferer sheered from its course, and sprang

into its master's lap; he flung it out of the window, and the voice of distress quickly thinned away and died in

By this time the whole church was redfaced and suffocating with suppressed laughter, and the sermon had

come to a dead standstill. The discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all possibility

of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravest sentiments were constantly being received with a

smothered burst of unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pewback, as if the poor parson had said a

rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief to the whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the

Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there was some satisfaction about divine

service when there was a bit of variety in it. He had but one marring thought; he was willing that the dog

should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright in him to carry it off.

MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found him so because it

began another week's slow suffering in school. He generally began that day with wishing he had had no

intervening holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much more odious.

Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was sick; then he could stay home from

school. Here was a vague possibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he investigated

again. This time he thought he could detect colicky symptoms, and he began to encourage them with

considerable hope. But they soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected further.

Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth was loose. This was lucky; he was about to

begin to groan, as a "starter," as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came into court with that

argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for

the present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and then he remembered hearing the doctor

tell about a certain thing that laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him lose a

finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he

did not know the necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it, so he fell to

Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and then swelled himself up and fetched a

Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This course worked well, and Tom began to groan

again. Sid yawned, stretched, then brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at Tom.

"Tom! Say, Tom!" [No response.] "Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter, Tom?" And he shook him and

"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner ? Oh, Tom, DON'T! It makes my flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what

"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done to me. When I'm gone "

"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you give my windowsash and my cat with one

But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in reality, now, so handsomely was his

But she fled upstairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels. And her face grew white, too, and her lip

The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a little, then did both together. This

"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense and climb out of this."

The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt a little foolish, and he said:

"Aunt Polly, it SEEMED mortified, and it hurt so I never minded my tooth at all."

"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth. Well your tooth IS loose, but

you're not going to die about that. Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen."

"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wish I may never stir if it does. Please don't,

"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought you'd get to stay home from school and

go afishing? Tom, Tom, I love you so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart with

your outrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were ready. The old lady made one end of the silk

thread fast to Tom's tooth with a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the chunk of fire and

suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The tooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now.

But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school after breakfast, he was the envy of every

boy he met because the gap in his upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and admirable way.

He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the exhibition; and one that had cut his finger and had been

a centre of fascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly without an adherent, and

shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, and he said with a disdain which he did not feel that it wasn't

anything to spit like Tom Sawyer; but another boy said, "Sour grapes!" and he wandered away a dismantled

Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry Finn, son of the town drunkard.

Huckleberry was cordially hated and dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless

and vulgar and bad and because all their children admired him so, and delighted in his forbidden society,

and wished they dared to be like him. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied

Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders not to play with him. So he played with

him every time he got a chance. Huckleberry was always dressed in the castoff clothes of fullgrown men,

and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hat was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped

out of its brim; his coat, when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons far down

the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat of the trousers bagged low and contained nothing,

Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps in fine weather and in empty

hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he

could go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it suited him; nobody forbade

him to fight; he could sit up as late as he pleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring

and the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, nor put on clean clothes; he could swear

wonderfully. In a word, everything that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every harassed,

"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnny told Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben

"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. I don't know HIM. But I never see a nigger that

"Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunkwater such a blame fool way as that! Why, that ain't agoing

to do any good. You got to go all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's a

spunkwater stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the stump and jam your hand in and say:

'Barleycorn, barleycorn, injunmeal shorts, Spunkwater, spunkwater, swaller these warts,'

and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and then turn around three times and walk home

"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in this town; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if

he'd knowed how to work spunkwater. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way, Huck. I

play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable many warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean."

"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get some blood, and then you put the blood on one

piece of the bean and take and dig a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of the moon,

and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piece that's got the blood on it will keep drawing and

drawing, trying to fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw the wart, and pretty soon off

"Yes, that's it, Huck that's it; though when you're burying it if you say 'Down bean; off wart; come no

more to bother me!' it's better. That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville and most

"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long about midnight when somebody that was

wicked has been buried; and when it's midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see

'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk; and when they're taking that feller

away, you heave your cat after 'em and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm done

"Say! Why, Tom, I KNOW she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own self. He come along one day, and he

see she was awitching him, so he took up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, that very

"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you right stiddy, they're awitching you.

Specially if they mumble. Becuz when they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards."

"Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight? and THEN it's Sunday. Devils don't

"Yes and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' me ameowing around till old Hays

went to throwing rocks at me and says 'Dern that cat!' and so I hove a brick through his window but don't

"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me, but I'll meow this time. Say what's

"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'm satisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for

"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is a pretty early tick, I reckon. It's the

Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry viewed it wistfully. The temptation was

Tom enclosed the tick in the percussioncap box that had lately been the pinchbug's prison, and the boys

When Tom reached the little isolated frame schoolhouse, he strode in briskly, with the manner of one who

had come with all honest speed. He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with business like

alacrity. The master, throned on high in his great splintbottom armchair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy

Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails of yellow hair hanging down a back that he

recognized by the electric sympathy of love; and by that form was THE ONLY VACANT PLACE on the

The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz of study ceased. The pupils wondered if this

"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have ever listened to. No mere ferule will answer

The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of switches notably diminished. Then the order

The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but in reality that result was caused rather

more by his worshipful awe of his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good fortune. He

sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl hitched herself away from him with a toss of her head.

Nudges and winks and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon the long, low desk

By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur rose upon the dull air once more.

Presently the boy began to steal furtive glances at the girl. She observed it, "made a mouth" at him and gave

him the back of her head for the space of a minute. When she cautiously faced around again, a peach lay

before her. She thrust it away. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with less animosity. Tom

patiently returned it to its place. Then she let it remain. Tom scrawled on his slate, "Please take it I got

more." The girl glanced at the words, but made no sign. Now the boy began to draw something on the slate,

hiding his work with his left hand. For a time the girl refused to notice; but her human curiosity presently

began to manifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on, apparently unconscious. The girl

made a sort of noncommittal attempt to see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she

Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke

issuing from the chimney. Then the girl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot

The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. He could have stepped over the house; but

the girl was not hypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered:

Tom drew an hourglass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and armed the spreading fingers with a

"That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me Tom, will you?"

Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from the girl. But she was not backward

"Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom

pretending to resist in earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were revealed: "I LOVE

"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened and looked pleased, nevertheless.

Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that

vise he was borne across the house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles from the

whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few awful moments, and finally moved away to his

throne without saying a word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant.

As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the turmoil within him was too great. In

turn he took his place in the reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and turned lakes

into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into continents, till chaos was come again; then in the

spelling class, and got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought up at the foot and

THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and

a yawn, he gave it up. It seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was utterly dead.

There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and

twenty studying scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. Away off in the flaming

sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of

distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other living thing was visible but some cows,

and they were asleep. Tom's heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to pass the

dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer,

though he did not know it. Then furtively the percussioncap box came out. He released the tick and put him

on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this

moment, but it was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned him aside with a pin

Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and now he was deeply and gratefully

interested in this entertainment in an instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn

friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a pin out of his lapel and began to assist

in exercising the prisoner. The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were interfering

with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a

"Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and I'll let him alone; but if you let him get

away and get on my side, you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over."

The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe harassed him awhile, and then he got

away and crossed back again. This change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with

absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, the two heads bowed together over the

slate, and the two souls dead to all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The tick tried

this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again

just as he would have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be twitching to begin,

Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The

temptation was too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was angry in a moment. Said

"I don't care whose tick he is he's on my side of the line, and you sha'n't touch him."

"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I blame please with him, or die!"

A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on Joe's; and for the space of two

minutes the dust continued to fly from the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been

too absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile before when the master came tiptoeing

down the room and stood over them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he

When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and whispered in her ear:

"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to the corner, give the rest of 'em the

slip, and turn down through the lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same

So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with another. In a little while the two met at the

bottom of the lane, and when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they sat together,

with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created

another surprising house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. Tom was swimming

"Well, I do, too LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your head with a string."

"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give it back to me."

That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their legs against the bench in excess of

"I been to the circus three or four times lots of times. Church ain't shucks to a circus. There's things going

on at a circus all the time. I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up."

"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of money most a dollar a day, Ben Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you

"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won't ever have anybody but him, ever ever

"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you remember what I wrote on the slate?"

Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm about her waist and whispered the tale

"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But you mustn't ever tell anybody WILL you,

He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breath stirred his curls and whispered, "I love

Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches, with Tom after her, and took refuge

in a corner at last, with her little white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and pleaded:

"Now, Becky, it's all done all over but the kiss. Don't you be afraid of that it ain't anything at all.

By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowing with the struggle, came up and

"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain't ever to love anybody but me, and you

"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marry anybody but you and you ain't to ever

"Certainly. Of course. That's PART of it. And always coming to school or when we're going home, you're to

walk with me, when there ain't anybody looking and you choose me and I choose you at parties, because

Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and turned her face to the wall, and went

on crying. Tom tried again, with soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride was up,

and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door,

every now and then, hoping she would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he began to feel

badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle with him to make new advances, now, but he

nerved himself to it and entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with her face to the

wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood a moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then

Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an andiron, and passed it around her so that she

She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over the hills and far away, to return to

school no more that day. Presently Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; she flew

She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companions but silence and loneliness. So she sat

down to cry again and upbraid herself; and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and she had to

hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the cross of a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none

TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of the track of returning scholars, and

then fell into a moody jog. He crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing juvenile

superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour later he was disappearing behind the Douglas

mansion on the summit of Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away off in the

valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless way to the centre of it, and sat down on a

mossy spot under a spreading oak. There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat had even

stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was broken by no sound but the occasional faroff

hammering of a woodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense of loneliness the

more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his

surroundings. He sat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, meditating. It seemed to

him that life was but a trouble, at best, and he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it

must be very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and ever, with the wind whispering

through the trees and caressing the grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve

about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sundayschool record he could be willing to go, and be done

with it all. Now as to this girl. What had he done? Nothing. He had meant the best in the world, and been

treated like a dog like a very dog. She would be sorry some day maybe when it was too late. Ah, if he

But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently

began to drift insensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turned his back, now, and

disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away ever so far away, into unknown countries beyond the

seas and never came back any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clown recurred to him

now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they

intruded themselves upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the romantic. No, he would

be a soldier, and return after long years, all warworn and illustrious. No better still, he would join the

Indians, and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the trackless great plains of the

Far West, and away in the future come back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and

prance into Sundayschool, some drowsy summer morning, with a bloodcurdling warwhoop, and sear the

eyeballs of all his companions with unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even than this.

He would be a pirate! That was it! NOW his future lay plain before him, and glowing with unimaginable

splendor. How his name would fill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would go

plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, blackhulled racer, the Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag

flying at the fore! And at the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village and stalk

into church, brown and weatherbeaten, in his black velvet doublet and trunks, his great jackboots, his

crimson sash, his belt bristling with horsepistols, his crimerusted cutlass at his side, his slouch hat with

waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy

the whisperings, "It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate! the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!"

Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from home and enter upon it. He would

start the very next morning. Therefore he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources

together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under one end of it with his Barlow knife. He

soon struck wood that sounded hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively:

Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it up and disclosed a shapely little

treasurehouse whose bottom and sides were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was

Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The truth was, that a superstition of his had

failed, here, which he and all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a marble with

certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he

had just used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had gathered themselves together there,

meantime, no matter how widely they had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and

unquestionably failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. He had many a time

heard of this thing succeeding but never of its failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several

times before, himself, but could never find the hidingplaces afterward. He puzzled over the matter some

time, and finally decided that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he would satisfy

himself on that point; so he searched around till he found a small sandy spot with a little funnelshaped

depression in it. He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and called

"Doodlebug, doodlebug, tell me what I want to know! Doodlebug, doodlebug, tell me what I want to

The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a second and then darted under again

He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he gave up discouraged. But it occurred to

him that he might as well have the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a patient

search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to his treasurehouse and carefully placed himself

just as he had been standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble from his pocket

He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must have fallen short or gone too far; so he

tried twice more. The last repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each other.

Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his

jacket and trousers, turned a suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, disclosing a

rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in a moment had seized these things and bounded

away, barelegged, with fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an answering blast, and

then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way and that. He said cautiously to an imaginary company:

Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. Tom called:

"Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting for they talked "by the book," from memory.

"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute with thee the passes of the merry wood.

They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot,

So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and by Tom shouted:

"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in the book. The book says, 'Then with one

backhanded stroke he slew poor Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the back."

There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received the whack and fell.

"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and lam me with a quarterstaff; or I'll be the

This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then Tom became Robin Hood again, and

was allowed by the treacherous nun to bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe,

representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, gave his bow into his feeble hands,

and Tom said, "Where this arrow falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he shot

the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse.

The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off grieving that there were no outlaws any

more, and wondering what modern civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. They

said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than President of the United States forever.

AT halfpast nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. They said their prayers, and Sid was

soon asleep. Tom lay awake and waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be nearly

daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves

demanded, but he was afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. Everything was

dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, scarcely preceptible noises began to emphasize

themselves. The ticking of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to crack mysteriously.

The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's

chamber. And now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could locate, began. Next the

ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at the bed's head made Tom shudder it meant that somebody's

days were numbered. Then the howl of a faroff dog rose on the night air, and was answered by a fainter

howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity

begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, but he did not hear it. And then there

came, mingling with his halfformed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a neighboring

window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the crash of an empty bottle against the back of his

aunt's woodshed brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and out of the window

and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went;

then jumped to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn was there, with his dead

cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through

It was a graveyard of the oldfashioned Western kind. It was on a hill, about a mile and a half from the

village. It had a crazy board fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of the time,

but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the whole cemetery. All the old graves were

sunken in, there was not a tombstone on the place; roundtopped, wormeaten boards staggered over the

graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory of" SoandSo had been painted on

them once, but it could no longer have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light.

A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the spirits of the dead, complaining at

being disturbed. The boys talked little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the

pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the sharp new heap they were seeking,

and ensconced themselves within the protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet of

Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting of a distant owl was all the sound that

troubled the dead stillness. Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said in a

There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter inwardly. Then Tom whispered:

"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm. Everybody calls him Hoss."

"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still,

The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled sound of voices floated up from the far

Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an oldfashioned tin lantern that freckled the

ground with innumerable little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a shudder:

"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners! Can you pray?"

"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now I lay me down to sleep, I '"

"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely

"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here they come again. Now they're hot. Cold again.

Hot again. Red hot! They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them voices; it's Injun Joe."

"That's so that murderin' halfbreed! I'd druther they was devils a dern sight. What kin they be up to?"

The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the grave and stood within a few feet of the

"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor

Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a couple of shovels on it. They cast down

their load and began to open the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came and sat

down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so close the boys could have touched him.

They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was no noise but the grating sound of the

spades discharging their freight of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck upon the

coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or two the men had hoisted it out on the ground.

They pried off the lid with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the ground. The moon

drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed

on it, covered with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a large springknife and

"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with another five, or here she stays."

"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your pay in advance, and I've paid you."

"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the doctor, who was now standing. "Five

years ago you drove me away from your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to eat,

and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get even with you if it took a hundred years,

your father had me jailed for a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for nothing. And

He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this time. The doctor struck out suddenly and

"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had grappled with the doctor and the two were

struggling with might and main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels. Injun Joe sprang

to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping,

round and round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the doctor flung himself free,

seized the heavy headboard of Williams' grave and felled Potter to the earth with it and in the same instant

the halfbreed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the young man's breast. He reeled and fell

partly upon Potter, flooding him with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the dreadful

Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over the two forms, contemplating them.

The doctor murmured inarticulately, gave a long gasp or two and was still. The halfbreed muttered:

Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the

dismantled coffin. Three four five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His hand

closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the

body from him, and gazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's.

"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink tonight. But it's in my head yet worse'n when we started

here. I'm all in a muddle; can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe HONEST, now, old feller

did I do it? Joe, I never meant to 'pon my soul and honor, I never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe.

"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard and you fell flat; and then up you

come, all reeling and staggering like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched you

"Oh, I didn't know what I was adoing. I wish I may die this minute if I did. It was all on account of the

whiskey and the excitement, I reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but never

with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you won't tell, Joe that's a good feller. I always liked

you, Joe, and stood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You WON'T tell, WILL you, Joe?" And the poor

creature dropped on his knees before the stolid murderer, and clasped his appealing hands.

"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I won't go back on you. There, now, that's

"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I live." And Potter began to cry.

"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering. You be off yonder way and I'll go this.

Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The halfbreed stood looking after him. He muttered:

"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he had the look of being, he won't think of

the knife till he's gone so far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself

Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the lidless coffin, and the open grave

THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with horror. They glanced backward over their

shoulders from time to time, apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump that

started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them catch their breath; and as they sped by

some outlying cottages that lay near the village, the barking of the aroused watchdogs seemed to give wings

"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down!" whispered Tom, in short catches between

Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed their eyes on the goal of their hopes and

bent to their work to win it. They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burst through the

open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering shadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed

"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun Joe DIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us

"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He's generally drunk enough."

"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckon he could see anything? D'you reckon

"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; and besides, he always has. Well, when pap's

full, you might take and belt him over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so, his

own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a man was dead sober, I reckon maybe that

"Tom, we GOT to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn't make any more of drownding us

than a couple of cats, if we was to squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, lookahere, Tom, less

"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little rubbishy common things specially with

gals, cuz THEY go back on you anyway, and blab if they get in a huff but there orter be writing 'bout a

Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, and awful; the hour, the circumstances, the

surroundings, were in keeping with it. He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moonlight, took a

little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon on his work, and painfully scrawled these lines,

emphasizing each slow downstroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up the pressure on

Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing, and the sublimity of his language. He at

So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boy pricked the ball of his thumb and

squeezed out a drop of blood. In time, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the ball

of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to make an H and an F, and the oath was

complete. They buried the shingle close to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and the

fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and the key thrown away.

A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the ruined building, now, but they did not notice

"Of course it does. It don't make any difference WHAT happens, we got to keep mum. We'd drop down dead

They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up a long, lugubrious howl just outside

within ten feet of them. The boys clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright.

"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful!" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's Bull Harbison." *

[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son

"Oh, that's good I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd a bet anything it was a STRAY dog."

Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. His whisper was hardly audible when he said:

"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'bout where I'LL go to. I been so wicked."

"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a feller's told NOT to do. I might a been

good, like Sid, if I'd a tried but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, I lay I'll just

"YOU bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom Sawyer, you're just old pie, 'longside

"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully, you know. NOW who can he mean?"

"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used to sleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs,

but laws bless you, he just lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever coming back to this

Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and the boys agreed to try, with the

understanding that they would take to their heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily

down, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps of the snorer, Tom stepped on a stick,

and it broke with a sharp snap. The man moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight. It was

Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopes too, when the man moved, but their fears passed

away now. They tiptoed out, through the broken weatherboarding, and stopped at a little distance to

exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on the night air again! They turned and saw the

strange dog standing within a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, with his nose pointing

"Say, Tom they say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller's house, 'bout midnight, as much as

two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill come in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; and

"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall in the kitchen fire and burn herself

"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as Muff Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers

Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom window the night was almost spent. He

undressed with excessive caution, and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his escapade.

He was not aware that the gentlysnoring Sid was awake, and had been so for an hour.

When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the light, a late sense in the

atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not been called persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought

filled him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and downstairs, feeling sore and drowsy. The

family were still at table, but they had finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there were

averted eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a chill to the culprit's heart. He sat down

and tried to seem gay, but it was uphill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into silence and

After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in the hope that he was going to be

flogged; but it was not so. His aunt wept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so;

and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her gray hairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no

use for her to try any more. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was sorer now than

his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised to reform over and over again, and then received his

dismissal, feeling that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a feeble confidence.

He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid; and so the latter's prompt retreat

through the back gate was unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging, along

with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the air of one whose heart was busy with heavier

woes and wholly dead to trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his desk and his

jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no

further go. His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time he slowly and sadly

changed his position, and took up this object with a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering,

CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified with the ghastly news. No need of

the as yet undreamed of telegraph; the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to

house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the

A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been recognized by somebody as

belonging to Muff Potter so the story ran. And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter

washing himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and that Potter had at once sneaked

off suspicious circumstances, especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was also said

that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence

and arriving at a verdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down all the roads in every

direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that he would be captured before night.

All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak vanished and he joined the procession, not

because he would not a thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, unaccountable

fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place, he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw

the dismal spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody pinched his arm. He

turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry' s. Then both looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had

noticed anything in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the grisly spectacle

"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to grave robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for

this if they catch him!" This was the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His hand is

Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid face of Injun Joe. At this moment the

crowd began to sway and struggle, and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!"

People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't trying to get away he only looked

"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a quiet look at his work, I reckon didn't

The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. The poor

fellow's face was haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood before the

murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face in his hands and burst into tears.

This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked around him with a pathetic hopelessness in

Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to the ground. Then he said:

"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get " He shuddered; then waved his nerveless hand with a

vanquished gesture and said, "Tell 'em, Joe, tell 'em it ain't any use any more."

Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the stonyhearted liar reel off his serene

statement, they expecting every moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head, and

wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had finished and still stood alive and whole,

their wavering impulse to break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and vanished away,

for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such

"I couldn't help it I couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to run away, but I couldn't seem to come

Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the

boys, seeing that the lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe had sold himself to

the devil. He was now become, to them, the most balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and

They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse

Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in a wagon for removal; and it was

whispered through the shuddering crowd that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy

circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were disappointed, for more than one

Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as much as a week after this; and at

"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me awake half the time."

"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he spilled his coffee.

"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said

that over and over. And you said, 'Don't torment me so I'll tell!' Tell WHAT? What is it you'll tell?"

Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might have happened, now, but luckily the

concern passed out of Aunt Polly's face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said:

"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that

Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed satisfied. Tom got out of the presence as

quick as he plausibly could, and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his jaws every

night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned

on his elbow listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage back to its place again.

Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really

managed to make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself.

It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping

his trouble present to his mind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries, though it

had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises; he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness

and that was strange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a marked aversion to these

inquests, and always avoided them when he could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests

Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his opportunity and went to the little grated

jailwindow and smuggled such small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The jail

was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge of the village, and no guards were afforded for

it; indeed, it was seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's conscience.

The villagers had a strong desire to tarandfeather Injun Joe and ride him on a rail, for bodysnatching, but

so formidable was his character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead in the matter, so

it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of his inqueststatements with the fight, without

confessing the graverobbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not to try the case in the courts

ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret troubles was, that it had found a new

and weighty matter to interest itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had struggled

with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down the wind," but failed. He began to find himself

hanging around her father's house, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she should die!

There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took an interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of

life was gone; there was nothing but dreariness left. He put his hoop away, and his bat; there was no joy in

them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began to try all manner of remedies on him. She was one of

those people who are infatuated with patent medicines and all newfangled methods of producing health or

mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in these things. When something fresh in this line came out

she was in a fever, right away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never ailing, but on anybody else that

came handy. She was a subscriber for all the "Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds; and the solemn

ignorance they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they contained about ventilation,

and how to go to bed, and how to get up, and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take,

and what frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing to wear, was all gospel to her, and she

never observed that her healthjournals of the current month customarily upset everything they had

recommended the month before. She was as simplehearted and honest as the day was long, and so she was

an easy victim. She gathered together her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed with

death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with "hell following after." But she never

suspected that she was not an angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the suffering neighbors.

The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a windfall to her. She had him out at

daylight every morning, stood him up in the woodshed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; then

she scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to; then she rolled him up in a wet sheet

and put him away under blankets till she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came through his

Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy and pale and dejected. She added hot

baths, sitz baths, shower baths, and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to assist the

water with a slim oatmeal diet and blisterplasters. She calculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled

Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase filled the old lady's heart with

consternation. This indifference must be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Painkiller for the first

time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form.

She dropped the water treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Painkiller. She gave Tom a

teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for the result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at

peace again; for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown a wilder, heartier interest, if

Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but

it was getting to have too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he thought over

various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that of professing to be fond of Painkiller. He asked for it so

often that he became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself and quit bothering her. If it

had been Sid, she would have had no misgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the

bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, but it did not occur to her that the boy

One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow cat came along, purring, eying the

"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain't anything mean about me; but if you find

Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the Painkiller. Peter sprang a couple of

yards in the air, and then delivered a warwhoop and set off round and round the room, banging against

furniture, upsetting flowerpots, and making general havoc. Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced

around, in a frenzy of enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming his unappeasable

happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt

Polly entered in time to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty hurrah, and sail

through the open window, carrying the rest of the flowerpots with him. The old lady stood petrified with

astonishment, peering over her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter.

"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're having a good time."

The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized by anxiety. Too late he divined her

"drift." The handle of the telltale teaspoon was visible under the bedvalance. Aunt Polly took it, held it up.

Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the usual handle his ear and cracked his

"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd a roasted his bowels out of him 'thout

Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing in a new light; what was cruelty to a cat

MIGHT be cruelty to a boy, too. She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, and she put her

Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peeping through his gravity.

"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. It done HIM good, too. I never see him

"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And you try and see if you can't be a good boy,

Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strange thing had been occurring every day

latterly. And now, as usual of late, he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with his

comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem to be looking everywhere but whither he

really was looking down the road. Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted; he gazed

a moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom accosted him; and "led up" warily to

opportunities for remark about Becky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched and watched,

hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the

right one. At last frocks ceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps; he entered the empty

schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frock passed in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great

bound. The next instant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing, chasing boys, jumping

over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing handsprings, standing on his head doing all the heroic

things he could conceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if Becky Thatcher was

noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of it all; she never looked. Could it be possible that she was not

aware that he was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity; came warwhooping around,

snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of the schoolhouse, broke through a group of boys, tumbling them

in every direction, and fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almost upsetting her and she turned,

with her nose in the air, and he heard her say: "Mf! some people think they're mighty smart always

Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushed and crestfallen.

TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a forsaken, friendless boy, he said;

nobody loved him; when they found out what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had

tried to do right and get along, but they would not let him; since nothing would do them but to be rid of him,

let it be so; and let them blame HIM for the consequences why shouldn't they? What right had the

friendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he would lead a life of crime. There was no

By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to "take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear.

He sobbed, now, to think he should never, never hear that old familiar sound any more it was very hard,

but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the cold world, he must submit but he forgave them.

Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe Harper hardeyed, and with evidently a great and

dismal purpose in his heart. Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom, wiping his eyes

with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about a resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of

sympathy at home by roaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by hoping that Joe

But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been going to make of Tom, and had come to hunt

him up for that purpose. His mother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never tasted and

knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him and wished him to go; if she felt that way, there

was nothing for him to do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having driven her

As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to stand by each other and be brothers

and never separate till death relieved them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. Joe was for

being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and dying, some time, of cold and want and grief; but

after listening to Tom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a life of crime, and

Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi River was a trifle over a mile wide, there

was a long, narrow, wooded island, with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as a rendezvous.

It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the further shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled

forest. So Jackson's Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a matter that did not

occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry Finn, and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one

to him; he was indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on the riverbank two miles

above the village at the favorite hour which was midnight. There was a small log raft there which they

meant to capture. Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he could steal in the most dark

and mysterious way as became outlaws. And before the afternoon was done, they had all managed to

enjoy the sweet glory of spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear something." All who got

About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles, and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a

small bluff overlooking the meetingplace. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay like an ocean

at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the quiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was

answered from under the bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in the same way. Then

"Huck Finn the RedHanded, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tom had furnished these titles, from his

Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to the brooding night:

Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it, tearing both skin and clothes to some

extent in the effort. There was an easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it lacked the

The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about worn himself out with getting it there. Finn

the RedHanded had stolen a skillet and a quantity of halfcured leaf tobacco, and had also brought a few

corncobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or "chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger

of the Spanish Main said it would never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought; matches were

hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire smouldering upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and

they went stealthily thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an imposing adventure of it, saying,

"Hist!" every now and then, and suddenly halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginary

daggerhilts; and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe" stirred, to "let him have it to the hilt,"

because "dead men tell no tales." They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all down at the village

laying in stores or having a spree, but still that was no excuse for their conducting this thing in an unpiratical

They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar and Joe at the forward. Tom stood

amidships, gloomybrowed, and with folded arms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper:

As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward midstream it was no doubt understood that

these orders were given only for "style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular.

"Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of ye foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!"

"Hellumalee hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port, port! NOW, men! With a will!

The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed her head right, and then lay on their oars. The

river was not high, so there was not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was said during the

next threequarters of an hour. Now the raft was passing before the distant town. Two or three glimmering

lights showed where it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of stargemmed water,

unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening. The Black Avenger stood still with folded arms,

"looking his last" upon the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing "she" could see him

now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death with dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile

on his lips. It was but a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island beyond eyeshot of the

village, and so he "looked his last" with a broken and satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last,

too; and they all looked so long that they came near letting the current drift them out of the range of the

island. But they discovered the danger in time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in the morning

the raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the head of the island, and they waded back and forth

until they had landed their freight. Part of the little raft's belongings consisted of an old sail, and this they

spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to shelter their provisions; but they themselves would sleep in the

They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty steps within the sombre depths of the forest,

and then cooked some bacon in the fryingpan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone" stock they had

brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that wild, free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored

and uninhabited island, far from the haunts of men, and they said they never would return to civilization. The

climbing fire lit up their faces and threw its ruddy glare upon the pillared treetrunks of their forest temple,

When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance of corn pone devoured, the boys stretched

themselves out on the grass, filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but they would

"I reckon so," said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't want nothing better'n this. I don't ever get

enough to eat, gen'ally and here they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so."

"It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up, mornings, and you don't have to go to school,

and wash, and all that blame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do ANYTHING, Joe, when he's

ashore, but a hermit HE has to be praying considerable, and then he don't have any fun, anyway, all by

"Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it, you know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate,

"You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, like they used to in old times, but a

pirate's always respected. And a hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and put sackcloth and

"I dono. But they've GOT to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to do that if you was a hermit."

"Run away! Well, you WOULD be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd be a disgrace."

The RedHanded made no response, being better employed. He had finished gouging out a cob, and now he

fitted a weed stem to it, loaded it with tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a cloud of

fragrant smoke he was in the full bloom of luxurious contentment. The other pirates envied him this

majestic vice, and secretly resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said:

"Oh, they have just a bully time take ships and burn them, and get the money and bury it in awful places

in their island where there's ghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships make 'em walk a

"And they carry the women to the island," said Joe; "they don't kill the women."

"No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the women they're too noble. And the women's always beautiful, too.

"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silver and di'monds," said Joe, with

"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with a regretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none

But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough, after they should have begun their

adventures. They made him understand that his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary

Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon the eyelids of the little waifs. The pipe

dropped from the fingers of the RedHanded, and he slept the sleep of the consciencefree and the weary.

The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main had more difficulty in getting to sleep.

They said their prayers inwardly, and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority to make them

kneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not to say them at all, but they were afraid to proceed to such

lengths as that, lest they might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from heaven. Then at once they

reached and hovered upon the imminent verge of sleep but an intruder came, now, that would not "down."

It was conscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doing wrong to run away; and next they

thought of the stolen meat, and then the real torture came. They tried to argue it away by reminding

conscience that they had purloined sweetmeats and apples scores of times; but conscience was not to be

appeased by such thin plausibilities; it seemed to them, in the end, that there was no getting around the

stubborn fact that taking sweetmeats was only "hooking," while taking bacon and hams and such valuables

was plain simple stealing and there was a command against that in the Bible. So they inwardly resolved

that so long as they remained in the business, their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of

stealing. Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistent pirates fell peacefully to sleep.

WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and looked

around. Then he comprehended. It was the cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and

peace in the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred; not a sound obtruded upon

great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes

covered the fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe and Huck still slept.

Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently the hammering of a woodpecker was

heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life

manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to work unfolded itself to the musing

boy. A little green worm came crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting twothirds of his body into the air from time

to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding again for he was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm

approached him, of its own accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling, by turns, as the

creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful

moment with its curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and began a journey

over him, his whole heart was glad for that meant that he was going to have a new suit of clothes

without the shadow of a doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared, from nowhere

in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as

itself in its arms, and lugged it straight up a treetrunk. A brown spotted ladybug climbed the dizzy height

of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to it and said, "Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home, your house

is on fire, your children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it which did not surprise the

boy, for he knew of old that this insect was credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its

simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at its ball, and Tom touched the

creature, to see it shut its legs against its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this

time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head, and trilled out her imitations of her

neighbors in a rapture of enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and stopped on a

twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one side and eyed the strangers with a consuming

curiosity; a gray squirrel and a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at intervals to

inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had probably never seen a human being before and

scarcely knew whether to be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long lances of

sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the

Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a shout, and in a minute or two were stripped

and chasing after and tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white sandbar. They felt no

longing for the little village sleeping in the distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or

a slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only gratified them, since its going was something

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, gladhearted, and ravenous; and they soon had the

campfire blazing up again. Huck found a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of

broad oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a wildwood charm as that, would be a

good enough substitute for coffee. While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to

hold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the riverbank and threw in their lines; almost

immediately they had reward. Joe had not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some

handsome bass, a couple of sunperch and a small catfish provisions enough for quite a family. They fried

the fish with the bacon, and were astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did not

know that the quicker a freshwater fish is on the fire after he is caught the better he is; and they reflected

little upon what a sauce openair sleeping, openair exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient of hunger make,

They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke, and then went off through the woods

on an exploring expedition. They tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush,

among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the ground with a drooping regalia of

grapevines. Now and then they came upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers.

They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be astonished at. They discovered that the

island was about three miles long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to was only

separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards wide. They took a swim about every hour, so

it was close upon the middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too hungry to stop to

fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the

talk soon began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, and the sense

of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing

crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently it was budding homesickness. Even Finn the

RedHanded was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their

For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one

sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound

became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, glanced at each other, and then each

assumed a listening attitude. There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen boom

They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom troubled the solemn hush.

They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. They parted the bushes on the bank and

peered out over the water. The little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting with the

current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were a great many skiffs rowing about or

floating with the stream in the neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what the men

in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded

and rose in a lazy cloud, that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again.

"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner got drownded; they shoot a cannon

over the water, and that makes him come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put quicksilver

in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop."

"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread do that."

"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly what they SAY over it before they start it

"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and they don't."

"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves. Of COURSE they do. Anybody might

The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because an ignorant lump of bread,

uninstructed by an incantation, could not be expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of

The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought flashed through Tom's mind, and he

They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they were missed; they were mourned;

hearts were breaking on their account; tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor

lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being indulged; and best of all, the departed

were the talk of the whole town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety was concerned.

As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed business and the skiffs disappeared. The

pirates returned to camp. They were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious trouble

they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing at what the village

was thinking and saying about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their account were

gratifying to look upon from their point of view. But when the shadows of night closed them in, they

gradually ceased to talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently wandering elsewhere. The

excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who

were not enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; a

sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the

Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined in with Tom, and the waverer

quickly "explained," and was glad to get out of the scrape with as little taint of chickenhearted

homesickness clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to rest for the moment.

As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joe followed next. Tom lay upon his

elbow motionless, for some time, watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, and

went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung by the campfire. He picked up and

inspected several large semicylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose two which

seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully wrote something upon each of these with his "red

keel"; one he rolled up and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and removed it to a little

distance from the owner. And he also put into the hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value

among them a lump of chalk, an Indiarubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that kind of marbles

known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was

out of hearing, and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.

A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wading toward the Illinois shore. Before the

depth reached his middle he was halfway over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so he struck

out confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam quartering upstream, but still was swept

downward rather faster than he had expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along till he

found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his jacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe,

and then struck through the woods, following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before ten o'clock

he came out into an open place opposite the village, and saw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees

and the high bank. Everything was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, watching with all

his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four strokes and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at

Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "cast off." A minute or two later the skiff's

head was standing high up, against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in his success,

for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. At the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels

stopped, and Tom slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards downstream, out of

He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his aunt's back fence. He climbed over,

approached the "ell," and looked in at the sittingroom window, for a light was burning there. There sat Aunt

Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together, talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was

between them and the door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then he pressed gently

and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushing cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he

judged he might squeeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began, warily.

"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. "Why, that door's open, I believe. Why,

Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed" himself for a time, and then crept to where

"But as I was saying," said Aunt Polly, "he warn't BAD, so to say only mischEEvous. Only just giddy,

and harumscarum, you know. He warn't any more responsible than a colt. HE never meant any harm, and he

"It was just so with my Joe always full of his devilment, and up to every kind of mischief, but he was just

as unselfish and kind as he could be and laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for taking that

cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myself because it was sour, and I never to see him again

in this world, never, never, never, poor abused boy!" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heart would break.

"I hope Tom's better off where he is," said Sid, "but if he'd been better in some ways "

"SID!" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could not see it. "Not a word against my Tom, now

that he's gone! God'll take care of HIM never you trouble YOURself, sir! Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don't know

how to give him up! I don't know how to give him up! He was such a comfort to me, although he tormented

"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away Blessed be the name of the Lord! But it's so hard Oh,

it's so hard! Only last Saturday my Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him sprawling.

Little did I know then, how soon Oh, if it was to do over again I'd hug him and bless him for it."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know just exactly how you feel. No longer ago than

yesterday noon, my Tom took and filled the cat full of Painkiller, and I did think the cretur would tear the

house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's head with my thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's

out of all his troubles now. And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach "

But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirely down. Tom was snuffling, now,

himself and more in pity of himself than anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly

word for him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himself than ever before. Still, he was

sufficiently touched by his aunt's grief to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her with joy

and the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to his nature, too, but he resisted and lay still.

He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it was conjectured at first that the boys had got

drowned while taking a swim; then the small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said the missing lads

had promised that the village should "hear something" soon; the wiseheads had "put this and that together"

and decided that the lads had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next town below, presently; but

toward noon the raft had been found, lodged against the Missouri shore some five or six miles below the

village and then hope perished; they must be drowned, else hunger would have driven them home by

nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that the search for the bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because

the drowning must have occurred in midchannel, since the boys, being good swimmers, would otherwise

have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday night. If the bodies continued missing until Sunday, all hope

would be given over, and the funerals would be preached on that morning. Tom shuddered.

Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing goodnight and turned to go. Then with a mutual impulse the two bereaved

women flung themselves into each other's arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Polly

was tender far beyond her wont, in her goodnight to Sid and Mary. Sid snuffled a bit and Mary went off

Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, so appealingly, and with such measureless love in

her words and her old trembling voice, that he was weltering in tears again, long before she was through.

He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making brokenhearted ejaculations from time to

time, tossing unrestfully, and turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in her sleep. Now

the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the candlelight with his hand, and stood regarding

her. His heart was full of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the candle. But

something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His face lighted with a happy solution of his

thought; he put the bark hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and straightway

He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large there, and walked boldly on board the

boat, for he knew she was tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and slept like a

graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream.

When he had pulled a mile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himself stoutly to his

work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to

capture the skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore legitimate prey for a pirate, but he

knew a thorough search would be made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and

He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep awake, and then started warily down

the homestretch. The night was far spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast the

island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the great river with its splendor, and then he

plunged into the stream. A little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and heard Joe say:

"No, Tom's trueblue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He knows that would be a disgrace to a

pirate, and Tom's too proud for that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?"

Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain't back here to breakfast."

"Which he is!" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, stepping grandly into camp.

A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and as the boys set to work upon it, Tom

recounted (and adorned) his adventures. They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the tale was

done. Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep till noon, and the other pirates got ready to fish

AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the bar. They went about poking sticks into

the sand, and when they found a soft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands.

Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They were perfectly round white things a trifle

smaller than an English walnut. They had a famous friedegg feast that night, and another on Friday

After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and chased each other round and round,

shedding clothes as they went, until they were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal

water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their legs from under them from time to time

and greatly increased the fun. And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each other's

faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays,

and finally gripping and struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all went under in a

tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing, sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and

When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the dry, hot sand, and lie there and cover

themselves up with it, and by and by break for the water again and go through the original performance once

more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked skin represented fleshcolored "tights" very fairly; so they

drew a ring in the sand and had a circus with three clowns in it, for none would yield this proudest post to

Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ringtaw" and "keeps" till that amusement grew stale.

Then Joe and Huck had another swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off his

trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped

cramp so long without the protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he had found it,

and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the

"dumps," and fell to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay drowsing in the sun. Tom

found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself

for his weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He erased it once more and then

took himself out of temptation by driving the other boys together and joining them.

But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so homesick that he could hardly endure

the misery of it. The tears lay very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted, but

tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression

was not broken up soon, he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of cheerfulness:

"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore it again. They've hid treasures here

somewhere. How'd you feel to light on a rotten chest full of gold and silver hey?"

But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. Tom tried one or two other seductions;

but they failed, too. It was discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking very

"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of the fishing that's here."

"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I

"Yes, I DO want to see my mother and you would, too, if you had one. I ain't any more baby than you

"Well, we'll let the crybaby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? Poor thing does it want to see its

mother? And so it shall. You like it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?"

"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising. "There now!" And he moved moodily away

"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate.

Huck and me ain't crybabies. We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get

But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing. And then it

was discomforting to see Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an ominous silence.

Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink.

He glanced at Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:

"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom."

"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for you when we get to shore."

Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a strong desire tugging at his heart to

yield his pride and go along too. He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It suddenly

dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He made one final struggle with his pride, and then

They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they were, he began unfolding his secret,

and they listened moodily till at last they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a

warwhoop of applause and said it was "splendid !" and said if he had told them at first, they wouldn't have

started away. He made a plausible excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret would

keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had meant to hold it in reserve as a last

The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will, chattering all the time about Tom's

stupendous plan and admiring the genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to

learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled

them. These novices had never smoked anything before but cigars made of grapevine, and they "bit" the

Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, charily, and with slender confidence.

"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I wish I could do that; but I never

"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk just that way haven't you, Huck? I'll

"Well, I have too," said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the slaughterhouse. Don't you

remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you

"Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white alley. No, 'twas the day before."

"Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you Jeff Thatcher couldn't."

"Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him try it once. HE'D see!"

"I bet he would. And Johnny Miller I wish could see Johnny Miller tackle it once."

"Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any more do this than nothing. Just one little

"Say boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're around, I'll come up to you and say,

'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.' And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll say, 'Yes,

I got my OLD pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain't very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's

STRONG enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as ca'm, and then just see 'em

"So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating, won't they wish they'd been along?"

So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and grow disjointed. The silences widened; the

expectoration marvellously increased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spouting fountain; they

could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues fast enough to prevent an inundation; little

overflowings down their throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings followed every

time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable, now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers.

Tom's followed. Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might and main. Joe said

"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the spring. No, you needn't come, Huck we

So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome, and went to find his comrades.

They were wide apart in the woods, both very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they

They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look, and when Huck prepared his pipe after

the meal and was going to prepare theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well something they ate

About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding oppressiveness in the air that seemed

to bode something. The boys huddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship of the fire,

though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere was stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The

solemn hush continued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up in the blackness of

darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow that vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then

vanished. By and by another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came sighing through

the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy

that the Spirit of the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned night into day and

showed every little grassblade, separate and distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white,

startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling down the heavens and lost itself in

sullen rumblings in the distance. A sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing the flaky

ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the forest and an instant crash followed that seemed

to rend the treetops right over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick gloom that

They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no two plunging in the same direction.

A furious blast roared through the trees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash after another

came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now a drenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane

drove it in sheets along the ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring wind and the booming

thunderblasts drowned their voices utterly. However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter

under the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have company in misery seemed something to

be grateful for. They could not talk, the old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have

allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the sail tore loose from its fastenings and

went winging away on the blast. The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and

bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the riverbank. Now the battle was at its highest. Under

the ceaseless conflagration of lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in cleancut and

shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy river, white with foam, the driving spray of

spumeflakes, the dim outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the drifting cloudrack

and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the

younger growth; and the unflagging thunderpeals came now in earsplitting explosive bursts, keen and sharp,

and unspeakably appalling. The storm culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island

to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the treetops, blow it away, and deafen every creature in it, all at one and the

But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker and weaker threatenings and grumblings,

and peace resumed her sway. The boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was still

something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted

Everything in camp was drenched, the campfire as well; for they were but heedless lads, like their

generation, and had made no provision against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked

through and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently discovered that the fire had eaten

so far up under the great log it had been built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from the

ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so they patiently wrought until, with shreds and

bark gathered from the under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then they piled on

great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and were gladhearted once more. They dried their boiled

ham and had a feast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified their midnight adventure

As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them, and they went out on the sandbar and

lay down to sleep. They got scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After the meal

they felt rusty, and stiffjointed, and a little homesick once more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up

the pirates as well as he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, or anything. He

reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a

new device. This was to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a change. They were attracted

by this idea; so it was not long before they were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like

so many zebras all of them chiefs, of course and then they went tearing through the woods to attack an

By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon each other from ambush with dreadful

warwhoops, and killed and scalped each other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was an

They assembled in camp toward suppertime, hungry and happy; but now a difficulty arose hostile

Indians could not break the bread of hospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simple

impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no other process that ever they had heard of. Two

of the savages almost wished they had remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so with such

show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipe and took their whiff as it passed, in due

And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had gained something; they found that they

could now smoke a little without having to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not get sick enough to be

seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this high promise for lack of effort. No, they

practised cautiously, after supper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening. They were

prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they would have been in the scalping and skinning of the

Six Nations. We will leave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further use for them at

BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt

Polly's family, were being put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet possessed the

village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns

with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a burden to the

In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very

"Oh, if I only had a brass andironknob again! But I haven't got anything now to remember him by." And she

"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say that I wouldn't say it for the whole world.

This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Then quite a group

of boys and girls playmates of Tom's and Joe's came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and

talking in reverent tones of how Tom did soandso the last time they saw him, and how Joe said this and

that small trifle (pregnant with awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!) and each speaker pointed

out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and then added something like "and I was astanding

just so just as I am now, and as if you was him I was as close as that and he smiled, just this way

and then something seemed to go all over me, like awful, you know and I never thought what it

Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and many claimed that dismal distinction,

and offered evidences, more or less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided who

DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, the lucky parties took upon themselves a

sort of sacred importance, and were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no other

But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that, and so that cheapened the distinction too

much. The group loitered away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.

When the Sundayschool hour was finished, the next morning, the bell began to toll, instead of ringing in the

usual way. It was a very still Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush that

lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment in the vestibule to converse in whispers

about the sad event. But there was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses as the

women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None could remember when the little church had

been so full before. There was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly entered,

followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all in deep black, and the whole congregation, the

old minister as well, rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front pew. There was

another communing silence, broken at intervals by muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands

abroad and prayed. A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection and the Life."

As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and the rare

promise of the lost lads that every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in

remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always before, and had as persistently seen

only faults and flaws in the poor boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the

departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily see, now, how

noble and beautiful those episodes were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had

seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The congregation became more and more moved, as

the pathetic tale went on, till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping mourners in a

chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.

There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment later the church door creaked; the minister

raised his streaming eyes above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then another pair of

eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one impulse the congregation rose and stared while the

three dead boys came marching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of drooping rags,

sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in the unused gallery listening to their own funeral

Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored ones, smothered them with kisses

and poured out thanksgivings, while poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what

to do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and started to slink away, but Tom

"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" And the loving attentions Aunt Polly

lavished upon him were the one thing capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before.

Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise God from whom all blessings flow SING!

And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer

the Pirate looked around upon the envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was the

As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be willing to be made ridiculous again to

Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day according to Aunt Polly's varying moods than he had earned

before in a year; and he hardly knew which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself.

THAT was Tom's great secret the scheme to return home with his brother pirates and attend their own

funerals. They had paddled over to the Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or six miles

below the village; they had slept in the woods at the edge of the town till nearly daylight, and had then crept

through back lanes and alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among a chaos of invalided

At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to Tom, and very attentive to his

wants. There was an unusual amount of talk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said:

"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybody suffering 'most a week so you boys had a

good time, but it is a pity you could be so hardhearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come over on a log

to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give me a hint some way that you warn't dead, but only

"Yes, you could have done that, Tom," said Mary; "and I believe you would if you had thought of it."

"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say, now, would you, if you'd thought of

"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much," said Aunt Polly, with a grieved tone that discomforted the boy. "It

would have been something if you'd cared enough to THINK of it, even if you didn't DO it."

"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm," pleaded Mary; "it's only Tom's giddy way he is always in such a rush

"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come and DONE it, too. Tom, you'll look

back, some day, when it's too late, and wish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you so

"I wish now I'd thought," said Tom, with a repentant tone; "but I dreamt about you, anyway. That's

"It ain't much a cat does that much but it's better than nothing. What did you dream?"

"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the bed, and Sid was sitting by the

"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take even that much trouble about us."

"Just let me study a moment just a moment. Oh, yes you said you believed the door was open."

"And then and then well I won't be certain, but it seems like as if you made Sid go and and "

"Well, for the land's sake! I never heard the beat of that in all my days! Don't tell ME there ain't anything in

dreams, any more. Sereny Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her get around

"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said I warn't BAD, only mischeevous and

harumscarum, and not any more responsible than than I think it was a colt, or something."

"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same, and she wished she hadn't whipped him

"Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was a prophesying that's what you was doing! Land alive, go on,

"He said I THINK he said he hoped I was better off where I was gone to, but if I'd been better sometimes

"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There WAS an angel there, somewheres!"

"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and you told about Peter and the Painkiller

"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for us, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday,

"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm asitting in these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told

"Then I thought you prayed for me and I could see you and hear every word you said. And you went to

bed, and I was so sorry that I took and wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead we are only off

being pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle; and then you looked so good, laying there asleep, that I

"Did you, Tom, DID you! I just forgive you everything for that!" And she seized the boy in a crushing

"It was very kind, even though it was only a dream," Sid soliloquized just audibly.

"Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he was awake. Here's a big Milum apple

I've been saving for you, Tom, if you was ever found again now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the

good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's longsuffering and merciful to them that believe on

Him and keep His word, though goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His

blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's few enough would smile here or ever

enter into His rest when the long night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom take yourselves off you've

The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper and vanquish her realism with Tom's

marvellous dream. Sid had better judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the house.

What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing, but moved with a dignified

swagger as became a pirate who felt that the public eye was on him. And indeed it was; he tried not to seem

to see the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food and drink to him. Smaller boys

than himself flocked at his heels, as proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been the

drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie into town. Boys of his own size

pretended not to know he had been away at all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They

would have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his glittering notoriety; and Tom

At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered such eloquent admiration from their

eyes, that the two heroes were not long in becoming insufferably "stuckup." They began to tell their

adventures to hungry listeners but they only began; it was not a thing likely to have an end, with

imaginations like theirs to furnish material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely

Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glory was sufficient. He would live for

glory. Now that he was distinguished, maybe she would be wanting to "make up." Well, let her she should

see that he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she arrived. Tom pretended not to see her.

He moved away and joined a group of boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she was

tripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes, pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates,

and screaming with laughter when she made a capture; but he noticed that she always made her captures in

his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eye in his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the

vicious vanity that was in him; and so, instead of winning him, it only "set him up" the more and made him

the more diligent to avoid betraying that he knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and

moved irresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively and wistfully toward Tom. Then she

observed that now Tom was talking more particularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp

pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, but her feet were treacherous, and carried

her to the group instead. She said to a girl almost at Tom's elbow with sham vivacity:

"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you about the picnic."

"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that I want, and I want you."

"Yes, every one that's friends to me or wants to be"; and she glanced ever so furtively at Tom, but he

talked right along to Amy Lawrence about the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore the

great sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing within three feet of it."

And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had begged for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then

Tom turned coolly away, still talking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tears came to

her eyes; she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went on chattering, but the life had gone out of the

picnic, now, and out of everything else; she got away as soon as she could and hid herself and had what her

sex call "a good cry." Then she sat moody, with wounded pride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a

vindictive cast in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what SHE'D do.

At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant selfsatisfaction. And he kept drifting about to

find Becky and lacerate her with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a sudden falling of his

mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind the schoolhouse looking at a picturebook with

Alfred Temple and so absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book, that they did

not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides. Jealousy ran redhot through Tom's veins. He

began to hate himself for throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. He called himself

a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. He wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along,

as they walked, for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. He did not hear what Amy

was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly he could only stammer an awkward assent, which was as

often misplaced as otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again and again, to sear his

eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He could not help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he

saw, that Becky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of the living. But she did see,

nevertheless; and she knew she was winning her fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had

Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had to attend to; things that must be done;

and time was fleeting. But in vain the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever going to

get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those things and she said artlessly that she would be

"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole town but that Saint Louis smarty that

thinks he dresses so fine and is aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw this town,

mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catch you out! I'll just take and "

And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy pummelling the air, and kicking and

gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You holler 'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so the

Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more of Amy's grateful happiness, and his

jealousy could bear no more of the other distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, but as

the minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph began to cloud and she lost interest;

gravity and absentmindedness followed, and then melancholy; two or three times she pricked up her ear at a

footstep, but it was a false hope; no Tom came. At last she grew entirely miserable and wished she hadn't

carried it so far. When poor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, kept exclaiming:

"Oh, here's a jolly one! look at this!" she lost patience at last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me! I don't care for

So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done for she had said she would look at pictures all

through the nooning and she walked on, crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse.

He was humiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truth the girl had simply made a

convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer. He was far from hating Tom the less when this

thought occurred to him. He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without much risk to

himself. Tom's spellingbook fell under his eye. Here was his opportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson

Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act, and moved on, without discovering

herself. She started homeward, now, intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be thankful and their

troubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, she had changed her mind. The thought

of Tom's treatment of her when she was talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her with

shame. She resolved to let him get whipped on the damaged spellingbook's account, and to hate him forever,

TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt said to him showed him that he had

"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like an old softy, expecting I'm going to make

her believe all that rubbage about that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe that you was

over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, I don't know what is to become of a boy that will act

like that. It makes me feel so bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and make such a fool of

This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning had seemed to Tom a good joke before, and

very ingenious. It merely looked mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anything to

"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your own selfishness. You could think to come

all the way over here from Jackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you could think to fool

me with a lie about a dream; but you couldn't ever think to pity us and save us from sorrow."

"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. I didn't, honest. And besides, I didn't come

"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I could believe you ever had as good a thought as

"It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from grieving that was all that made me come."

"I'd give the whole world to believe that it would cover up a power of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd

run off and acted so bad. But it ain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?"

"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got all full of the idea of our coming and

hiding in the church, and I couldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my pocket and

"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now, you'd waked up when I kissed you I

The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness dawned in her eyes.

The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor in her voice when she said:

"Kiss me again, Tom! and be off with you to school, now, and don't bother me any more."

The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of a jacket which Tom had gone pirating in.

"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about it but it's a blessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort

come from it. I hope the Lord I KNOW the Lord will forgive him, because it was such goodheartedness in

She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she put out her hand to take the garment again,

and twice she refrained. Once more she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with the thought: "It's a

good lie it's a good lie I won't let it grieve me." So she sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she

was reading Tom's piece of bark through flowing tears and saying: "I could forgive the boy, now, if he'd

THERE was something about Aunt Polly's manner, when she kissed Tom, that swept away his low spirits and

made him lighthearted and happy again. He started to school and had the luck of coming upon Becky

Thatcher at the head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined his manner. Without a moment's

"I acted mighty mean today, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, ever do that way again, as long as ever I

"I'll thank you to keep yourself TO yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'll never speak to you again."

She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had not even presence of mind enough to say

"Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until the right time to say it had gone by. So he said nothing. But he was in a fine

rage, nevertheless. He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were a boy, and imagining how he would

trounce her if she were. He presently encountered her and delivered a stinging remark as he passed. She

hurled one in return, and the angry breach was complete. It seemed to Becky, in her hot resentment, that she

could hardly wait for school to "take in," she was so impatient to see Tom flogged for the injured

spellingbook. If she had had any lingering notion of exposing Alfred Temple, Tom's offensive fling had

Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself. The master, Mr. Dobbins, had reached

middle age with an unsatisfied ambition. The darling of his desires was, to be a doctor, but poverty had

decreed that he should be nothing higher than a village schoolmaster. Every day he took a mysterious book

out of his desk and absorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. He kept that book under

lock and key. There was not an urchin in school but was perishing to have a glimpse of it, but the chance

never came. Every boy and girl had a theory about the nature of that book; but no two theories were alike,

and there was no way of getting at the facts in the case. Now, as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood

near the door, she noticed that the key was in the lock! It was a precious moment. She glanced around; found

herself alone, and the next instant she had the book in her hands. The titlepage Professor Somebody' s

ANATOMY carried no information to her mind; so she began to turn the leaves. She came at once upon a

handsomely engraved and colored frontispiece a human figure, stark naked. At that moment a shadow fell

on the page and Tom Sawyer stepped in at the door and caught a glimpse of the picture. Becky snatched at

the book to close it, and had the hard luck to tear the pictured page half down the middle. She thrust the

volume into the desk, turned the key, and burst out crying with shame and vexation.

"Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be, to sneak up on a person and look at what they're looking

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer; you know you're going to tell on me, and oh, what shall

"BE so mean if you want to! I know something that's going to happen. You just wait and you'll see! Hateful,

hateful, hateful!" and she flung out of the house with a new explosion of crying.

Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. Presently he said to himself:

"What a curious kind of a fool a girl is! Never been licked in school! Shucks! What's a licking! That's just

like a girl they're so thinskinned and chickenhearted. Well, of course I ain't going to tell old Dobbins on

this little fool, because there's other ways of getting even on her, that ain't so mean; but what of it? Old

Dobbins will ask who it was tore his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll do just the way he always does

ask first one and then t'other, and when he comes to the right girl he'll know it, without any telling. Girls'

faces always tell on them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well, it's a kind of a tight place for

Becky Thatcher, because there ain't any way out of it." Tom conned the thing a moment longer, and then

added: "All right, though; she'd like to see me in just such a fix let her sweat it out!"

Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars outside. In a few moments the master arrived and school "took

in." Tom did not feel a strong interest in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at the girls' side of the room

Becky's face troubled him. Considering all things, he did not want to pity her, and yet it was all he could do

to help it. He could get up no exultation that was really worthy the name. Presently the spelling book

discovery was made, and Tom's mind was entirely full of his own matters for a while after that. Becky roused

up from her lethargy of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. She did not expect that Tom

could get out of his trouble by denying that he spilt the ink on the book himself; and she was right. The denial

only seemed to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she would be glad of that, and she tried to

believe she was glad of it, but she found she was not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she had an

impulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she made an effort and forced herself to keep still

because, said she to herself, "he'll tell about me tearing the picture sure. I wouldn't say a word, not to save his

Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all brokenhearted, for he thought it was possible that

he had unknowingly upset the ink on the spellingbook himself, in some skylarking bout he had denied it

for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuck to the denial from principle.

A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air was drowsy with the hum of study. By

and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened himself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, but

seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the pupils glanced up languidly, but there were

two among them that watched his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently for a

while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read! Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a

hunted and helpless rabbit look as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot his quarrel with

her. Quick something must be done! done in a flash, too! But the very imminence of the emergency

paralyzed his invention. Good! he had an inspiration ! He would run and snatch the book, spring through

the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little instant, and the chance was lost the master opened

the volume. If Tom only had the wasted opportunity back again! Too late. There was no help for Becky now,

he said. The next moment the master faced the school. Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it

which smote even the innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten the master was

There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness continued; the master searched face

Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under the slow torture of these proceedings.

The master scanned the ranks of boys considered a while, then turned to the girls:

Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling from head to foot with excitement

"Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her face it was white with terror] "did you tear no, look me in

A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his feet and shouted "I done it!"

The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a moment, to gather his dismembered

faculties; and when he stepped forward to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration that

shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the

splendor of his own act, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever

administered; and also received with indifference the added cruelty of a command to remain two hours after

school should be dismissed for he knew who would wait for him outside till his captivity was done, and

Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple; for with shame and repentance Becky

had told him all, not forgetting her own treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, soon,

to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky's latest words lingering dreamily in his ear

VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grew severer and more exacting than ever,

for he wanted the school to make a good showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldom

idle now at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and young ladies of eighteen and

twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins' lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, under

his wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middle age, and there was no sign of feebleness

in his muscle. As the great day approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; he seemed to

take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the least shortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys

spent their days in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. They threw away no opportunity

to do the master a mischief. But he kept ahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengeful

success was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired from the field badly worsted. At last they

conspired together and hit upon a plan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the signpainter's boy,

told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasons for being delighted, for the master boarded

in his father's family and had given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would go on a visit to

the country in a few days, and there would be nothing to interfere with the plan; the master always prepared

himself for great occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the signpainter's boy said that when the

dominie had reached the proper condition on Examination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he

napped in his chair; then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurried away to school.

In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight in the evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly

lighted, and adorned with wreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned in his great

chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him. He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows

of benches on each side and six rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the town and by the

parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of citizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which

were seated the scholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows of small boys, washed

and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort; rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young

ladies clad in lawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, their grandmothers' ancient

trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon and the flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled

The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishly recited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to

speak in public on the stage," etc. accompanying himself with the painfully exact and spasmodic gestures

which a machine might have used supposing the machine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through

safely, though cruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made his manufactured bow and

A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc., performed a compassioninspiring curtsy, got

Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into the unquenchable and indestructible

"Give me liberty or give me death" speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the

middle of it. A ghastly stagefright seized him, his legs quaked under him and he was like to choke. True, he

had the manifest sympathy of the house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than its

sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom struggled awhile and then retired,

"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian Came Down," and other declamatory

gems. Then there were reading exercises, and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The

prime feature of the evening was in order, now original "compositions" by the young ladies. Each in her

turn stepped forward to the edge of the platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with dainty

ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to "expression" and punctuation. The themes were the

same that had been illuminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, their grandmothers, and

doubtless all their ancestors in the female line clear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories

of Other Days"; "Religion in History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages of Culture"; "Forms of Political

Government Compared and Contrasted"; "Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart Longings," etc., etc.

A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and petted melancholy; another was a wasteful and

opulent gush of "fine language"; another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized words and

phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity that conspicuously marked and marred them was

the inveterate and intolerable sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one of them.

No matter what the subject might be, a brainracking effort was made to squirm it into some aspect or other

that the moral and religious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaring insincerity of these

sermons was not sufficient to compass the banishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficient

today; it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps. There is no school in all our land where

the young ladies do not feel obliged to close their compositions with a sermon; and you will find that the

sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl in the school is always the longest and the most

Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that was read was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?"

"In the common walks of life, with what delightful emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some

anticipated scene of festivity! Imagination is busy sketching rosetinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the

voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the festive throng, 'the observed of all observers.' Her graceful

form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is brightest, her step

"In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into the

Elysian world, of which she has had such bright dreams. How fairylike does everything appear to her

enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming than the last. But after a while she finds that beneath this

goodly exterior, all is vanity, the flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates harshly upon her ear; the

ballroom has lost its charms; and with wasted health and imbittered heart, she turns away with the

And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time to time during the reading, accompanied

by whispered ejaculations of "How sweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc., and after the thing had closed

Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting" paleness that comes of pills and

But yet for a while do I leave thee now! Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, And burning

recollections throng my brow! For I have wandered through thy flowery woods; Have roamed and read near

Tallapoosa's stream; Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods, And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam.

Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes; 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, 'Tis to no strangers left I

yield these sighs. Welcome and home were mine within this State, Whose vales I leave whose spires fade

fast from me And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete, When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee!"

There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem was very satisfactory, nevertheless.

Next appeared a darkcomplexioned, blackeyed, blackhaired young lady, who paused an impressive

moment, assumed a tragic expression, and began to read in a measured, solemn tone:

"Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the throne on high not a single star quivered; but the deep

intonations of the heavy thunder constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the terrific lightning revelled in

angry mood through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming to scorn the power exerted over its terror by the

illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous winds unanimously came forth from their mystic homes, and

"At such a time,so dark,so dreary, for human sympathy my very spirit sighed; but instead thereof,

"'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter and guide My joy in grief, my second bliss in joy,' came

to my side. She moved like one of those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks of fancy's Eden by the

romantic and young, a queen of beauty unadorned save by her own transcendent loveliness. So soft was her

step, it failed to make even a sound, and but for the magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as other

unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided away unperceived unsought. A strange sadness rested upon

her features, like icy tears upon the robe of December, as she pointed to the contending elements without, and

This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up with a sermon so destructive of all

hope to nonPresbyterians that it took the first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finest

effort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering the prize to the author of it, made a warm speech

in which he said that it was by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that Daniel Webster

It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in which the word "beauteous" was

overfondled, and human experience referred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average.

Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair aside, turned his back to the audience,

and began to draw a map of America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But he made a

sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered titter rippled over the house. He knew what the

matter was, and set himself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he only distorted them

more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced. He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as

if determined not to be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened upon him; he imagined he

was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it even manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a

garret above, pierced with a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttle came a cat, suspended

around the haunches by a string; she had a rag tied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she

slowly descended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swung downward and clawed at the

intangible air. The tittering rose higher and higher the cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher's

head down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with her desperate claws, clung to it, and was

snatched up into the garret in an instant with her trophy still in her possession! And how the light did blaze

TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted by the showy character of their

"regalia." He promised to abstain from smoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member.

Now he found out a new thing namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the surest way in the world to

make a body want to go and do that very thing. Tom soon found himself tormented with a desire to drink and

swear; the desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of a chance to display himself in his red sash

kept him from withdrawing from the order. Fourth of July was coming; but he soon gave that up gave it

up before he had worn his shackles over fortyeight hours and fixed his hopes upon old Judge Frazer,

justice of the peace, who was apparently on his deathbed and would have a big public funeral, since he was

so high an official. During three days Tom was deeply concerned about the Judge's condition and hungry for

news of it. Sometimes his hopes ran high so high that he would venture to get out his regalia and practise

before the lookingglass. But the Judge had a most discouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was pronounced

upon the mend and then convalescent. Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense of injury, too. He handed in

his resignation at once and that night the Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom resolved that he would

The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculated to kill the late member with envy. Tom

was a free boy again, however there was something in that. He could drink and swear, now but found

to his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he could, took the desire away, and the charm of it.

Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginning to hang a little heavily on his hands.

He attempted a diary but nothing happened during three days, and so he abandoned it.

The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made a sensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a

Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rained hard, there was no procession in

consequence, and the greatest man in the world (as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United States

Senator, proved an overwhelming disappointment for he was not twentyfive feet high, nor even

A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward in tents made of rag carpeting admission,

A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came and went again and left the village duller and drearier than ever.

There were some boysandgirls' parties, but they were so few and so delightful that they only made the

Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with her parents during vacation so there

The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a very cancer for permanency and pain.

During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its happenings. He was very ill, he was

interested in nothing. When he got upon his feet at last and moved feebly downtown, a melancholy change

had come over everything and every creature. There had been a "revival," and everybody had "got religion,"

not only the adults, but even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the sight of one

blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament,

and turned sadly away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him visiting the poor

with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who called his attention to the precious blessing of his late

measles as a warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression; and when, in

desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of Huckleberry Finn and was received with a Scriptural

quotation, his heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all the town was lost,

And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of

lightning. He covered his head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his doom; for he

had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was about him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance

of the powers above to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might have seemed to him a

waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous

about the getting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turf from under an insect like

By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its object. The boy's first impulse was to

be grateful, and reform. His second was to wait for there might not be any more storms.

The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks he spent on his back this time

seemed an entire age. When he got abroad at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared,

remembering how lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted listlessly down

the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the

presence of her victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a stolen melon. Poor

AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred and vigorously: the murder trial came on in the court. It became

the absorbing topic of village talk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference to the

murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience and fears almost persuaded him that these

remarks were put forth in his hearing as "feelers"; he did not see how he could be suspected of knowing

anything about the murder, but still he could not be comfortable in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a

cold shiver all the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him. It would be some relief to

unseal his tongue for a little while; to divide his burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, he

"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out. YOU know that."

"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that halfbreed devil to drownd me they could get me to tell. They ain't no

"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keep mum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's

"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all the time. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I

"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner. Don't you feel sorry for him,

"Most always most always. He ain't no account; but then he hain't ever done anything to hurt anybody.

Just fishes a little, to get money to get drunk on and loafs around considerable; but lord, we all do that

leastways most of us preachers and such like. But he's kind of good he give me half a fish, once, when

there warn't enough for two; and lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck."

"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to my line. I wish we could get him out of

"My! we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do any good; they'd ketch him again."

"Yes so they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like the dickens when he never done that."

"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest looking villain in this country, and they wonder he

"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if he was to get free they'd lynch him."

The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As the twilight drew on, they found themselves

hanging about the neighborhood of the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope that something

would happen that might clear away their difficulties. But nothing happened; there seemed to be no angels or

The boys did as they had often done before went to the cell grating and gave Potter some tobacco and

His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciences before it cut deeper than ever, this time.

"You've been mighty good to me, boys better'n anybody else in this town. And I don't forget it, I don't.

Often I says to myself, says I, 'I used to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where the good

fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they've all forgot old Muff when he's in trouble;

but Tom don't, and Huck don't THEY don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them.' Well, boys, I done

an awful thing drunk and crazy at the time that's the only way I account for it and now I got to

swing for it, and it's right. Right, and BEST, too, I reckon hope so, anyway. Well, we won't talk about

that. I don't want to make YOU feel bad; you've befriended me. But what I want to say, is, don't YOU ever

get drunk then you won't ever get here. Stand a litter furder west so that's it; it's a prime comfort to

see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck of trouble, and there don't none come here but yourn.

Good friendly faces good friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let me touch 'em. That's it.

Shake hands yourn'll come through the bars, but mine's too big. Little hands, and weak but they've

Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of horrors. The next day and the day after, he

hung about the courtroom, drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself to stay out.

Huck was having the same experience. They studiously avoided each other. Each wandered away, from time

to time, but the same dismal fascination always brought them back presently. Tom kept his ears open when

idlers sauntered out of the courtroom, but invariably heard distressing news the toils were closing more

and more relentlessly around poor Potter. At the end of the second day the village talk was to the effect that

Injun Joe's evidence stood firm and unshaken, and that there was not the slightest question as to what the

Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He was in a tremendous state of

excitement. It was hours before he got to sleep. All the village flocked to the courthouse the next morning,

for this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented in the packed audience. After a

long wait the jury filed in and took their places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and

hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all the curious eyes could stare at him; no

less conspicuous was Injun Joe, stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and the

sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings among the lawyers and gathering together

of papers followed. These details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation that was

Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potter washing in the brook, at an early hour of

the morning that the murder was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After some further

The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again when his own counsel said:

The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse. Counsel for the prosecution said:

Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audience began to betray annoyance. Did this

Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior when brought to the scene of the murder. They

Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the graveyard upon that morning which all

present remembered so well was brought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were crossexamined by

Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house expressed itself in murmurs and provoked a

"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, we have fastened this awful crime, beyond

all possibility of question, upon the unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here."

A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands and rocked his body softly to and fro,

while a painful silence reigned in the courtroom. Many men were moved, and many women's compassion

"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we foreshadowed our purpose to prove that our client

did this fearful deed while under the influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium produced by drink. We

have changed our mind. We shall not offer that plea." [Then to the clerk:] "Call Thomas Sawyer!"

A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself

with wondering interest upon Tom as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked wild enough,

"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the hour of midnight?"

Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The audience listened breathless, but the

words refused to come. After a few moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and managed

"Wait wait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. We will produce him at the proper

"Speak out, my boy don't be diffident. The truth is always respectable. What did you take there?"

"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell us everything that occurred tell it in your

Tom began hesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject his words flowed more and more easily;

in a little while every sound ceased but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips and

bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of time, rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the

" and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell, Injun Joe jumped with the knife and "

Crash! Quick as lightning the halfbreed sprang for a window, tore his way through all opposers, and was

TOM was a glittering hero once more the pet of the old, the envy of the young. His name even went into

immortal print, for the village paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be President,

As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom and fondled him as lavishly as it had

abused him before. But that sort of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to find fault with it.

Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights were seasons of horror. Injun Joe

infested all his dreams, and always with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy to

stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the

whole story to the lawyer the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid that his share in

the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in

court. The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of that? Since Tom's harassed

conscience had managed to drive him to the lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had

been sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's confidence in the human race was

Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly he wished he had sealed up his

Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the other half he was afraid he would be.

He felt sure he never could draw a safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse.

Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun Joe was found. One of those

omniscient and aweinspiring marvels, a detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head,

looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of that craft usually achieve. That is to

say, he "found a clew." But you can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got through

The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened weight of apprehension.

THERE comes a time in every rightlyconstructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and

dig for hidden treasure. This desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe Harper, but

failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn

the RedHanded. Huck would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him

confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand in any enterprise that offered

entertainment and required no capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which is

"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten

chests under the end of a limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but mostly under

"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and have a good time."

"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and leave it there."

"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long

time and gets rusty; and by and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks a

paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's mostly signs and hy'roglyphics."

"Hy'roglyphics pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean anything."

"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or on an island, or under a dead tree that's

got one limb sticking out. Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again some time; and

there's the old ha'nted house up the StillHouse branch, and there's lots of deadlimb trees dead loads of

"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten

"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred dollars and I don't want no di'monds."

"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece

"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft of 'em hopping around."

"Shucks, I only meant you'd SEE 'em not hopping, of course what do they want to hop for? but I

mean you'd just see 'em scattered around, you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked

"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a king and have only just a given name, like a

"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old deadlimb tree on the hill t'other side of StillHouse branch?"

So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their threemile tramp. They arrived hot and panting,

and threw themselves down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke.

"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to every circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a

"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thishyer town some day and get his claws on it if I didn't

hurry up, and I tell you he'd clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?"

"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure'nough sword, and a red necktie and a bull pup, and get married."

"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all

"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you

"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl both's right, like enough. Anyway, what's her

"All right that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer than ever."

"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and we'll go to digging."

They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled another halfhour. Still no result. Huck

So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, but still they made progress. They

pegged away in silence for some time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from his

"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on Cardiff Hill back of the widow's."

"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from us, Tom? It's on her land."

"SHE take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one of these hid treasures, it belongs to

"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's

"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter is! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You

got to find out where the shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!"

"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now hang it all, we got to come back in the

"I bet I will. We've got to do it tonight, too, because if somebody sees these holes they'll know in a minute

The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in the shadow waiting. It was a lonely

place, and an hour made solemn by old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked in

the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the distance, an owl answered with his

sepulchral note. The boys were subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged that

twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to dig. Their hopes commenced to rise.

Their interest grew stronger, and their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, but

every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon something, they only suffered a new

"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and

besides this kind of thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts afluttering around so. I

feel as if something's behind me all the time; and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in

"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a dead man when they bury a treasure

"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A body's bound to get into trouble with

"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to stick his skull out and say something!"

"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight worse'n dead people. Dead people

might talk, maybe, but they don't come sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over

your shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I couldn't stand such a thing as that,

"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't hender us from digging there in the

"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that ha'nted house in the day nor the night."

"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been murdered, anyway but nothing's

ever been seen around that house except in the night just some blue lights slipping by the windows no

"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, you can bet there's a ghost mighty

close behind it. It stands to reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em."

"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so what's the use of our being afeard?"

"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so but I reckon it's taking chances."

They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of the moonlit valley below them stood the

"ha'nted" house, utterly isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very doorsteps, the

chimney crumbled to ruin, the windowsashes vacant, a corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile,

half expecting to see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as befitted the time and the

circumstances, they struck far off to the right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way

ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree; they had come for their tools. Tom was

impatient to go to the haunted house; Huck was measurably so, also but suddenly said:

Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly lifted his eyes with a startled look in them

"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into an awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a

"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon YOU was the first that found it out, Huck."

"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I had a rotten bad dream last night dreampt

"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that there's trouble around, you know. All we

got to do is to look mighty sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for today, and play. Do you know

"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England and the best. He was a robber."

"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like. But he never bothered the poor. He loved

"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was. They ain't any such men now, I can tell

you. He could lick any man in England, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew bow and

"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit that dime only on the edge he would set down

So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting a yearning eye down upon the haunted

house and passing a remark about the morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sink

into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows of the trees and soon were buried from

On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again. They had a smoke and a chat in the

shade, and then dug a little in their last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said there were so

many cases where people had given up a treasure after getting down within six inches of it, and then

somebody else had come along and turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed this time,

however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feeling that they had not trifled with fortune, but

had fulfilled all the requirements that belong to the business of treasurehunting.

When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and grisly about the dead silence that

reigned there under the baking sun, and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the

place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they crept to the door and took a trembling

peep. They saw a weedgrown, floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, a ruinous

staircase; and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered,

softly, with quickened pulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound, and muscles tense

In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the place a critical and interested examination,

rather admiring their own boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look upstairs. This was

something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring each other, and of course there could be but one

result they threw their tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the same signs of decay. In

one corner they found a closet that promised mystery, but the promise was a fraud there was nothing in it.

Their courage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down and begin work when

The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to knotholes in the planking, and lay waiting,

"They've stopped.... No coming.... Here they are. Don't whisper another word, Huck. My goodness, I wish

Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: "There's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's been about town

"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped

in a serape; he had bushy white whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he wore green

goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice; they sat down on the ground, facing the

door, with their backs to the wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became less guarded

"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard to the vast surprise of the boys. "Milksop!"

This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There was silence for some time. Then Joe said:

"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about. 'Twon't ever be known that we tried,

"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytime! anybody would suspicion us that saw us."

"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that fool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I

wanted to yesterday, only it warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys playing over

"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of this remark, and thought how lucky it was that

they had remembered it was Friday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they had waited

The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long and thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said:

"Look here, lad you go back up the river where you belong. Wait there till you hear from me. I'll take the

chances on dropping into this town just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I've spied

around a little and think things look well for it. Then for Texas! We'll leg it together!"

He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade stirred him once or twice and he became

quiet. Presently the watcher began to nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snore now.

Tom urged Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and started alone. But the first step he

made wrung such a hideous creak from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He never

made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the dragging moments till it seemed to them that time

must be done and eternity growing gray; and then they were grateful to note that at last the sun was setting.

Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around smiled grimly upon his comrade, whose head was

"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll we do with what little swag we've got

"I don't know leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use to take it away till we start south. Six

"Yes: but look here; it may be a good while before I get the right chance at that job; accidents might happen;

'tain't in such a very good place; we'll just regularly bury it and bury it deep."

"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down, raised one of the rearward

hearthstones and took out a bag that jingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars for

himself and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter, who was on his knees in the corner, now,

The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant. With gloating eyes they watched every

movement. Luck! the splendor of it was beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough

to make half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasurehunting under the happiest auspices there would not be

any bothersome uncertainty as to where to dig. They nudged each other every moment eloquent nudges

and easily understood, for they simply meant "Oh, but ain't you glad NOW we're here!"

"Halfrotten plank no, it's a box, I believe. Here bear a hand and we'll see what it's here for. Never

The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boys above were as excited as themselves,

"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongst the weeds in the corner the other side

He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the pick, looked it over critically, shook his

head, muttered something to himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It was not very

large; it was iron bound and had been very strong before the slow years had injured it. The men contemplated

"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one summer," the stranger observed.

"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't robbery altogether it's

REVENGE!" and a wicked light flamed in his eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished then

Texas. Go home to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me."

"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] NO! by the great Sachem, no! [Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly

forgot. That pick had fresh earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What business has a

pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth on them? Who brought them here and where are

they gone? Have you heard anybody? seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come and see

Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously peeping out. Presently he said:

The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife, halted a moment, undecided, and then

turned toward the stairway. The boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps came

creaking up the stairs the intolerable distress of the situation woke the stricken resolution of the lads

they were about to spring for the closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landed on the

ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gathered himself up cursing, and his comrade said:

"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up there, let them STAY there who cares? If

they want to jump down, now, and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes and

then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my opinion, whoever hove those things in here caught

a sight of us and took us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're running yet."

Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his friend that what daylight was left ought to be economized in

getting things ready for leaving. Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening twilight,

Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them through the chinks between the logs

of the house. Follow? Not they. They were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and take the

townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were too much absorbed in hating themselves

hating the ill luck that made them take the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never would have

suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to wait there till his "revenge" was satisfied, and

then he would have had the misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that the tools

They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come to town spying out for chances to do

his revengeful job, and follow him to "Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought

They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to believe that he might possibly mean

somebody else at least that he might at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified.

Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Company would be a palpable improvement,

THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night. Four times he had his hands on that

rich treasure and four times it wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and wakefulness

brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay in the early morning recalling the incidents of his

great adventure, he noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away somewhat as if they had

happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it occurred to him that the great adventure itself

must be a dream! There was one very strong argument in favor of this idea namely, that the quantity of

coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and

he was like all boys of his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all references to "hundreds" and

"thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, and that no such sums really existed in the world. He never

had supposed for a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found in actual money in any

one's possession. If his notions of hidden treasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist

of a handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable dollars.

But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer under the attrition of thinking them over,

and so he presently found himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a dream, after

all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch a hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck

was sitting on the gunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water and looking very melancholy.

Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the subject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to

"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got the money. Oh, ain't it awful!"

"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was. Dog'd if I don't, Huck."

"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream it was! I've had dreams enough all

"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for such a pile and that one's lost. I'd feel

"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway and track him out to his Number Two."

"Number Two yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't make nothing out of it. What do you

"Goody! ... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this onehorse town. They ain't no numbers here."

"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here it's the number of a room in a tavern, you know!"

Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in public places. He was gone half an hour. He

found that in the best tavern, No. 2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied. In

the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. The tavernkeeper's young son said it was kept locked all

the time, and he never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night; he did not know any

particular reason for this state of things; had had some little curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the

most of the mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was "ha'nted"; had noticed that there

"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes out into that little close alley between the

tavern and the old rattle trap of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the doorkeys you can find, and I'll nip

all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there and try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe,

because he said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a chance to get his revenge. If

you see him, you just follow him; and if he don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place."

"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you and if he did, maybe he'd never think anything."

"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' found out he couldn't get his revenge, and be

THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung about the neighborhood of the tavern

until after nine, one watching the alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the alley

or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the tavern door. The night promised to be a fair one;

so Tom went home with the understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, Huck was to

come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck

Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday night promised better. Tom slipped

out in good season with his aunt's old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid the lantern in

Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour before midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the

only ones thereabouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had entered or left the alley.

Everything was auspicious. The blackness of darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by

Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the towel, and the two adventurers crept in

the gloom toward the tavern. Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was a season

of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash

from the lantern it would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive yet. It seemed

hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have fainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had

burst under terror and excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer and closer to the

alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would

take away his breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able to inhale it by thimblefuls,

and his heart would soon wear itself out, the way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom

He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirty or forty miles an hour before the

repetition was uttered. The boys never stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughterhouse at the

lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter the storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon

"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could; but they seemed to make such a power of

racket that I couldn't hardly get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either. Well,

without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, and open comes the door! It warn't locked! I

"Yes! He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old patch on his eye and his arms spread out."

"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn't see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle

and a tin cup on the floor by Injun Joe; yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in the room. Don't you

"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey! Maybe ALL the Temperance Taverns have got a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?"

"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? But say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to

"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain't enough. If there'd been three, he'd be

"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know Injun Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now,

if we watch every night, we'll be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'll snatch that

"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it every night, too, if you'll do the other part of

"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street a block and maow and if I'm asleep, you

"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be daylight in a couple of hours. You go back

"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night for a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand

"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man, Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake

whenever he wants me to, and any time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he can spare it.

That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don't ever act as if I was above him. Sometime I've

set right down and eat WITH him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when he's awful hungry

"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won't come bothering around. Any time you see

THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news Judge Thatcher's family had come

back to town the night before. Both Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment,

and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her and they had an exhausting good time

playing "hispy" and "gullykeeper" with a crowd of their schoolmates. The day was completed and crowned

in a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appoint the next day for the longpromised and

longdelayed picnic, and she consented. The child's delight was boundless; and Tom's not more moderate. The

invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway the young folks of the village were thrown into a

fever of preparation and pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keep awake until a pretty

late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's "maow," and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and

the picnickers with, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night.

Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy and rollicking company were gathered at

Judge Thatcher's, and everything was ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar the

picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe enough under the wings of a few young ladies

of eighteen and a few young gentlemen of twentythree or thereabouts. The old steam ferryboat was

chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up the main street laden with provisionbaskets. Sid

was sick and had to miss the fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs. Thatcher said

"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night with some of the girls that live near the

"Say I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's we'll climb right up the hill and stop at the

Widow Douglas'. She'll have icecream! She has it most every day dead loads of it. And she'll be awful

"But shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she wants is that you'll be safe; and I bet

The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and Tom's persuasions presently carried the

day. So it was decided to say nothing anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to Tom that

maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The thought took a deal of the spirit out of his

anticipations. Still he could not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he give it up, he

reasoned the signal did not come the night before, so why should it be any more likely to come tonight?

The sure fun of the evening outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boylike, he determined to yield to the

stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of the box of money another time that day.

Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody hollow and tied up. The crowd

swarmed ashore and soon the forest distances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and

laughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gone through with, and byandby the rovers

straggled back to camp fortified with responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good things began.

After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chat in the shade of spreading oaks. Byand by

Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there was a general scamper up the hill.

The mouth of the cave was up the hillside an opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door stood

unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an icehouse, and walled by Nature with solid limestone that

was dewy with a cold sweat. It was romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look out

upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of the situation quickly wore off, and the

romping began again. The moment a candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a

struggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon knocked down or blown out, and then there

was a glad clamor of laughter and a new chase. But all things have an end. Byandby the procession went

filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickering rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls

of rock almost to their point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not more than eight or ten

feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still narrower crevices branched from it on either hand for

McDougal's cave was but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and out again and led

nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and

chasms, and never find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and down, and still down, into the

earth, and it was just the same labyrinth under labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the

cave. That was an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion of it, and it was not customary to

venture much beyond this known portion. Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one.

The procession moved along the main avenue some threequarters of a mile, and then groups and couples

began to slip aside into branch avenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other by surprise at

points where the corridors joined again. Parties were able to elude each other for the space of half an hour

Byandby, one group after another came straggling back to the mouth of the cave, panting, hilarious,

smeared from head to foot with tallow drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of

the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking no note of time and that night was about

at hand. The clanging bell had been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's

adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat with her wild freight pushed into the

Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat' s lights went glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise

on board, for the young people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly tired to death.

He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop at the wharf and then he dropped her out of his

mind and put his attention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten o'clock came, and

the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began to wink out, all straggling footpassengers disappeared, the

village betook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the silence and the ghosts. Eleven

o'clock came, and the tavern lights were put out; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a

weary long time, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use? Was there really any

A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The alley door closed softly. He sprang to the

corner of the brick store. The next moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have something

under his arm. It must be that box! So they were going to remove the treasure. Why call Tom now? It would

be absurd the men would get away with the box and never be found again. No, he would stick to their

wake and follow them; he would trust to the darkness for security from discovery. So communing with

himself, Huck stepped out and glided along behind the men, catlike, with bare feet, allowing them to keep

They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left up a crossstreet. They went straight

ahead, then, until they came to the path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by the old

Welshman's house, halfway up the hill, without hesitating, and still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck,

they will bury it in the old quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the summit. They

plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach bushes, and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck

closed up and shortened his distance, now, for they would never be able to see him. He trotted along awhile;

then slackened his pace, fearing he was gaining too fast; moved on a piece, then stopped altogether; listened;

no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the beating of his own heart. The hooting of an owl came over

the hill ominous sound! But no footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring with

winged feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet from him! Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he

swallowed it again; and then he stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at once, and

so weak that he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He knew where he was. He knew he was within

five steps of the stile leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let them bury it there; it

This was that stranger's voice the stranger of the haunted house. A deadly chill went to Huck's heart

this, then, was the "revenge" job! His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had

been kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to murder her. He wished he dared

venture to warn her; but he knew he didn't dare they might come and catch him. He thought all this and

more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun Joe's next which was

"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up and maybe never have another chance. I tell

you again, as I've told you before, I don't care for her swag you may have it. But her husband was rough

on me many times he was rough on me and mainly he was the justice of the peace that jugged me for a

vagrant. And that ain't all. It ain't a millionth part of it! He had me HORSEWHIPPED! horsewhipped in

front of the jail, like a nigger! with all the town looking on! HORSEWHIPPED! do you understand?

"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he was here; but not her. When you want to get

revenge on a woman you don't kill her bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils you notch her

"Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tie her to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that

my fault? I'll not cry, if she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thing for MY sake that's why you're

here I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you,

I'll kill her and then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this business."

"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the better I'm all in a shiver."

"Do it NOW? And company there? Look here I'll get suspicious of you, first thing you know. No we'll

Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue a thing still more awful than any amount of murderous talk; so

he held his breath and stepped gingerly back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing,

onelegged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one side and then on the other. He took

another step back, with the same elaboration and the same risks; then another and another, and a twig

snapped under his foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There was no sound the stillness was perfect.

His gratitude was measureless. Now he turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes turned

himself as carefully as if he were a ship and then stepped quickly but cautiously along. When he emerged

at the quarry he felt secure, and so he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he

reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads of the old man and his two stalwart

"Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, I judge! But let him in, lads, and let's see

"Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he got in. "Please don't I'd be killed, sure

but the widow's been good friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell I WILL tell if you'll promise

"By George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!" exclaimed the old man; "out with it and

Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the hill, and just entering the sumach path

on tiptoe, their weapons in their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great bowlder

and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence, and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of

Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill as fast as his legs could carry him.

AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck came groping up the hill and rapped

gently at the old Welshman's door. The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a hairtrigger,

These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not

recollect that the closing word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly unlocked, and

he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his brace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves.

"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be ready as soon as the sun's up, and

we'll have a piping hot one, too make yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and

"I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three

mile. I've come now becuz I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz I didn't

"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it but there's a bed here for you when you've

had your breakfast. No, they ain't dead, lad we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right where to

put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept along on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them

dark as a cellar that sumach path was and just then I found I was going to sneeze. It was the meanest

kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use 'twas bound to come, and it did come! I was in the lead

with my pistol raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels arustling to get out of the path, I sung

out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place where the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a

jiffy, those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge we never touched them. They fired a

shot apiece as they started, but their bullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the

sound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the constables. They got a posse together,

and went off to guard the river bank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going to beat up the

woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we had some sort of description of those rascals

'twould help a good deal. But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?"

"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or twice, and t'other's a meanlooking,

"That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods back of the widow's one day, and

they slunk away. Off with you, boys, and tell the sheriff get your breakfast tomorrow morning!"

The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room Huck sprang up and exclaimed:

"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of what you did."

Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too much about one of those men and would

not have the man know that he knew anything against him for the whole world he would be killed for

"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot, least everybody says so, and I don't see nothing agin it and

sometimes I can't sleep much, on account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way of

doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I come along upstreet 'bout midnight,

aturning it all over, and when I got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed up

agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes these two chaps slipping along close by me,

with something under their arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was asmoking, and t'other one wanted a

light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf

and dumb Spaniard, by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a rusty,

"Follered 'em yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up they sneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the

widder's stile, and stood in the dark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard swear he'd

Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep the old man from getting the faintest

hint of who the Spaniard might be, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in spite of

all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his scrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he

"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head for all the world. No I'd protect you

I'd protect you. This Spaniard is not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; you can't cover

that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that you want to keep dark. Now trust me tell me

Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over and whispered in his ear:

"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and slitting noses I judged that that was

your own embellishment, because white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a different

During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man said that the last thing which he and his

sons had done, before going to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for marks of

If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more stunning suddenness from Huck's

blanched lips. His eyes were staring wide, now, and his breath suspended waiting for the answer. The

Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The Welshman eyed him gravely, curiously

"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But what did give you that turn? What were

Huck was in a close place the inquiring eye was upon him he would have given anything for material

for a plausible answer nothing suggested itself the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper a

senseless reply offered there was no time to weigh it, so at a venture he uttered it feebly:

Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud and joyously, shook up the details of his

anatomy from head to foot, and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in aman's pocket, because it

"Poor old chap, you're white and jaded you ain't well a bit no wonder you're a little flighty and off your

balance. But you'll come out of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope."

Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such a suspicious excitement, for he had

dropped the idea that the parcel brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the talk at

the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure, however he had not known that it wasn't

and so the suggestion of a captured bundle was too much for his selfpossession. But on the whole he felt

glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond all question that that bundle was not THE

bundle, and so his mind was at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be drifting

just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be still in No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that

day, and he and Tom could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of interruption.

Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck jumped for a hidingplace, for he had

no mind to be connected even remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and

gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of citizens were climbing up the hill

to stare at the stile. So the news had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the visitors.

"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more beholden to than you are to me and my

boys, maybe, but he don't allow me to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him."

Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled the main matter but the Welshman

allowed it to eat into the vitals of his visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he

refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the widow said:

"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?"

"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come again they hadn't any tools left to

work with, and what was the use of waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood

More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a couple of hours more.

There was no Sabbathschool during dayschool vacation, but everybody was early at church. The stirring

event was well canvassed. News came that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the

sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs. Harper as she moved down the aisle

"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be tired to death."

Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly, talking briskly with a friend, passed by.

"Goodmorning, Mrs. Thatcher. Goodmorning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a boy that's turned up missing. I

reckon my Tom stayed at your house last night one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've

"He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy. A marked anxiety came into Aunt

Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had stopped moving out of church.

Whispers passed along, and a boding uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were

anxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not noticed whether Tom and Becky were

on board the ferryboat on the homeward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one was missing.

One young man finally blurted out his fear that they were still in the cave! Mrs. Thatcher swooned away.

The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to street, and within five minutes the bells

were wildly clanging and the whole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant insignificance,

the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled, skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before

the horror was half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and river toward the cave.

All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women visited Aunt Polly and Mrs.

Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the

tedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned at last, all the word that came was,

"Send more candles and send food." Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt Polly, also. Judge

Thatcher sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they conveyed no real cheer.

The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with candlegrease, smeared with clay, and almost

worn out. He found Huck still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with fever. The

physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came and took charge of the patient. She said she

would do her best by him, because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's, and nothing

that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the

"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. He never does. Puts it somewhere on

Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the village, but the strongest of the citizens

continued searching. All the news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were being

ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner and crevice was going to be thoroughly

searched; that wherever one wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting hither and

thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistolshots sent their hollow reverberations to the ear down the

sombre aisles. In one place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names "BECKY & TOM"

had been found traced upon the rocky wall with candlesmoke, and near at hand a greasesoiled bit of

ribbon. Mrs. Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the last relic she should ever

have of her child; and that no other memorial of her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest

from the living body before the awful death came. Some said that now and then, in the cave, a faraway

speck of light would glimmer, and then a glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping

down the echoing aisle and then a sickening disappointment always followed; the children were not there;

Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and the village sank into a hopeless stupor.

No one had heart for anything. The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the Temperance

Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid

interval, Huck feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked dimly dreading the worst if

"Liquor! and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child what a turn you did give me!"

"Only tell me just one thing only just one please! Was it Tom Sawyer that found it?"

The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told you before, you must NOT talk. You are very,

Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great powwow if it had been the gold. So

the treasure was gone forever gone forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should

These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the weariness they gave him he fell

"There he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebody could find Tom Sawyer! Ah,

there ain't many left, now, that's got hope enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching."

NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They tripped along the murky aisles with the rest of

the company, visiting the familiar wonders of the cave wonders dubbed with rather overdescriptive

names, such as "The Drawing Room," "The Cathedral," "Aladdin's Palace," and so on. Presently the

hideandseek frolicking began, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal until the exertion began to grow

a trifle wearisome; then they wandered down a sinuous avenue holding their candles aloft and reading the

tangled webwork of names, dates, postoffice addresses, and mottoes with which the rocky walls had been

frescoed (in candlesmoke). Still drifting along and talking, they scarcely noticed that they were now in a

part of the cave whose walls were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under an overhanging shelf

and moved on. Presently they came to a place where a little stream of water, trickling over a ledge and

carrying a limestone sediment with it, had, in the slowdragging ages, formed a laced and ruffled Niagara in

gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed his small body behind it in order to illuminate it for Becky's

gratification. He found that it curtained a sort of steep natural stairway which was enclosed between narrow

walls, and at once the ambition to be a discoverer seized him. Becky responded to his call, and they made a

smokemark for future guidance, and started upon their quest. They wound this way and that, far down into

the secret depths of the cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties to tell the upper

world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern, from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining

stalactites of the length and circumference of a man's leg; they walked all about it, wondering and admiring,

and presently left it by one of the numerous passages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a

bewitching spring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glittering crystals; it was in the midst of a

cavern whose walls were supported by many fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of great

stalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaseless waterdrip of centuries. Under the roof vast

knots of bats had packed themselves together, thousands in a bunch; the lights disturbed the creatures and

they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking and darting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways

and the danger of this sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into the first corridor that

offered; and none too soon, for a bat struck Becky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of the

cavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the fugitives plunged into every new passage that

offered, and at last got rid of the perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, which stretched its

dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows. He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that

it would be best to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deep stillness of the place laid a

"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any of the others."

"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them and I don't know how far away north, or south, or

"I reckon I could find it but then the bats. If they put our candles out it will be an awful fix. Let's try some

"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and the girl shuddered at the thought of the

They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long way, glancing at each new opening, to see if

there was anything familiar about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every time Tom made an

examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging sign, and he would say cheerily:

But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently began to turn off into diverging avenues at

sheer random, in desperate hope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "all right," but there

was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words had lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All

is lost!" Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep back the tears, but they would

"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to get worse and worse off all the time."

Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were conspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The

call went echoing down the empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that resembled a ripple

"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know," and he shouted again.

The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it so confessed a perishing hope. The

children stood still and listened; but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and hurried

his steps. It was but a little while before a certain indecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to

"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might want to come back! No I can't find the

"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awful place! Oh, why DID we ever leave the

She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom was appalled with the idea that she

might die, or lose her reason. He sat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in his

bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing regrets, and the far echoes turned them all

to jeering laughter. Tom begged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell to blaming

and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable situation; this had a better effect. She said she would

try to hope again, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he would not talk like that any

So they moved on again aimlessly simply at random all they could do was to move, keep moving.

For a little while, hope made a show of reviving not with any reason to back it, but only because it is its

nature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age and familiarity with failure.

Byandby Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meant so much! Words were not

needed. Becky understood, and her hope died again. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four

Byandby, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried to pay attention, for it was dreadful to think

of sitting down when time was grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in any direction, was at

least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit down was to invite death and shorten its pursuit.

At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She sat down. Tom rested with her, and they talked of

home, and the friends there, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried, and Tom tried to

think of some way of comforting her, but all his encouragements were grown threadbare with use, and

sounded like sarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off to sleep. Tom was grateful.

He sat looking into her drawn face and saw it grow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant

dreams; and byandby a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflected somewhat of peace and

healing into his own spirit, and his thoughts wandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he

was deep in his musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laugh but it was stricken dead upon her lips,

"Oh, how COULD I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, I don't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say

"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll find the way out."

"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream. I reckon we are going there."

They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They tried to estimate how long they had been

in the cave, but all they knew was that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could not be,

for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this they could not tell how long Tom said they

must go softly and listen for dripping water they must find a spring. They found one presently, and Tom

said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky said she thought she could go a little farther.

She was surprised to hear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tom fastened his

candle to the wall in front of them with some clay. Thought was soon busy; nothing was said for some time.

"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grownup people do with weddingcake but

She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky ate with good appetite, while Tom

nibbled at his moiety. There was abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. Byandby Becky

"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink. That little piece is our last candle!"

Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could to comfort her, but with little effect. At length

"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they got home."

A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw that he had made a blunder. Becky

was not to have gone home that night! The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of

grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers also that the Sabbath morning

might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's.

The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw

the half inch of wick stand alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin column of smoke,

How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that she was crying in Tom's arms,

neither could tell. All that they knew was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of

a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom said it might be Sunday, now maybe

Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom

said that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was going on. He would shout and

maybe some one would come. He tried it; but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he

The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again. A portion of Tom's half of the cake

was left; they divided and ate it. But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only whetted

Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like the faintest, faroff shout. Instantly Tom

answered it, and leading Becky by the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction. Presently he

The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed was slow, however, because pitfalls were

somewhat common, and had to be guarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might be

three feet deep, it might be a hundred there was no passing it at any rate. Tom got down on his breast and

reached as far down as he could. No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. They

listened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! a moment or two more and they had

gone altogether. The heartsinking misery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He

talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and no sounds came again.

The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary time dragged on; they slept again, and awoke

Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. It would be better to explore some of

these than bear the weight of the heavy time in idleness. He took a kiteline from his pocket, tied it to a

projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the line as he groped along. At the end of

twenty steps the corridor ended in a "jumpingoff place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, and then

as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little

farther to the right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding a candle, appeared

from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout, and instantly that hand was followed by the body it

belonged to Injun Joe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratified the next moment,

to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get himself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not

recognized his voice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But the echoes must have disguised

the voice. Without doubt, that was it, he reasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said

to himself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring he would stay there, and nothing should

tempt him to run the risk of meeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it was he had

But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run. Another tedious wait at the spring and

another long sleep brought changes. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believed that it

must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now, and that the search had been given over.

He proposed to explore another passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. But Becky was

very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be roused. She said she would wait, now, where

she was, and die it would not be long. She told Tom to go with the kiteline and explore if he chose; but

she implored him to come back every little while and speak to her; and she made him promise that when the

Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a show of being confident of finding the

searchers or an escape from the cave; then he took the kiteline in his hand and went groping down one of

the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick with bodings of coming doom.

TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St. Petersburg still mourned. The lost

children had not been found. Public prayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a private

prayer that had the petitioner's whole heart in it; but still no good news came from the cave. The majority of

the searchers had given up the quest and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plain the

children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and a great part of the time delirious. People said it

was heartbreaking to hear her call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minute at a time, then lay it

wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly had drooped into a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had

grown almost white. The village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn.

Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the village bells, and in a moment the streets were

swarming with frantic halfclad people, who shouted, "Turn out! turn out! they're found! they're found!" Tin

pans and horns were added to the din, the population massed itself and moved toward the river, met the

children coming in an open carriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined its homeward

The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed again; it was the greatest night the little town had ever seen.

During the first halfhour a procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seized the saved

ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher' s hand, tried to speak but couldn't and drifted out raining

Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. It would be complete, however, as soon

as the messenger dispatched with the great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom lay

upon a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history of the wonderful adventure, putting in

many striking additions to adorn it withal; and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went on an

exploring expedition; how he followed two avenues as far as his kiteline would reach; how he followed a

third to the fullest stretch of the kiteline, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a faroff speck that

looked like daylight; dropped the line and groped toward it, pushed his head and shoulders through a small

hole, and saw the broad Mississippi rolling by! And if it had only happened to be night he would not have

seen that speck of daylight and would not have explored that passage any more! He told how he went back

for Becky and broke the good news and she told him not to fret her with such stuff, for she was tired, and

knew she was going to die, and wanted to. He described how he labored with her and convinced her; and how

she almost died for joy when she had groped to where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight; how he

pushed his way out at the hole and then helped her out; how they sat there and cried for gladness; how some

men came along in a skiff and Tom hailed them and told them their situation and their famished condition;

how the men didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because," said they, "you are five miles down the river

below the valley the cave is in" then took them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made them

Before daydawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with him were tracked out, in the cave, by the

Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to be shaken off at once, as Tom and Becky

soon discovered. They were bedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more and more

tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, on Thursday, was downtown Friday, and nearly as

whole as ever Saturday; but Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked as if she had

Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, but could not be admitted to the bedroom;

neither could he on Saturday or Sunday. He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep still about

his adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglas stayed by to see that he obeyed. At home

Tom learned of the Cardiff Hill event; also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been found in the

river near the ferrylanding; he had been drowned while trying to escape, perhaps.

About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off to visit Huck, who had grown plenty strong

enough, now, to hear exciting talk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. Judge Thatcher's

house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and

some one asked him ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he thought he wouldn't

"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt. But we have taken care of that. Nobody

"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago, and triplelocked and I've got the

WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiffloads of men were on their way to

McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, well filled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff

When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in the dim twilight of the place. Injun

Joe lay stretched upon the ground, dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longing eyes had

been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheer of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for

he knew by his own experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but nevertheless he felt an

abounding sense of relief and security, now, which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully

appreciated before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the day he lifted his voice

Injun Joe's bowieknife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The great foundationbeam of the door had

been chipped and hacked through, with tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock formed a

sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife had wrought no effect; the only damage done was to

the knife itself. But if there had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been useless still, for if

the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could not have squeezed his body under the door, and he knew

it. So he had only hacked that place in order to be doing something in order to pass the weary time in

order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily one could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in

the crevices of this vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. The prisoner had searched them

out and eaten them. He had also contrived to catch a few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their

claws. The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near at hand, a stalagmite had been slowly

growing up from the ground for ages, builded by the waterdrip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had

broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow

to catch the precious drop that fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a clocktick a

dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop was falling when the Pyramids were new; when

Troy fell; when the foundations of Rome were laid when Christ was crucified; when the Conqueror created

the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when the massacre at Lexington was "news." It is falling now; it

will still be falling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon of history, and the twilight of

tradition, and been swallowed up in the thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Did

this drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for this flitting human insect's need? and has it

another important object to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No matter. It is many and many a year

since the hapless halfbreed scooped out the stone to catch the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist

stares longest at that pathetic stone and that slowdropping water when he comes to see the wonders of

McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list of the cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's Palace"

Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked there in boats and wagons from the

towns and from all the farms and hamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and all sorts of

provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had

This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing the petition to the governor for Injun Joe's pardon.

The petition had been largely signed; many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a committee of

sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail around the governor, and implore him to be a

merciful ass and trample his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five citizens of the village,

but what of that? If he had been Satan himself there would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble

their names to a pardonpetition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently impaired and leaky

The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have an important talk. Huck had learned

all about Tom's adventure from the Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he

reckoned there was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what he wanted to talk about now. Huck's

"I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but whiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but

I just knowed it must 'a' ben you, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business; and I knowed you hadn't got the

money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other and told me even if you was mum to everybody else.

"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavernkeeper. YOU know his tavern was all right the Saturday I went to

"Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I follered Injun Joe to the widder's."

"Yes but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, and I don't want 'em souring on me

and doing me mean tricks. If it hadn't ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right."

Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only heard of the Welshman's part of it

"Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, "whoever nipped the whiskey in No. 2,

"What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on the track of that money again?"

"Earnest, Huck just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go in there with me and help get it out?"

"I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not get lost."

"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll agree to give you my drum and every thing I've

"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tom

"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, Huck, but there's a mighty short cut that

they don't anybody but me know about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the skiff down there,

and I'll pull it back again all by myself. You needn't ever turn your hand over."

"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little bag or two, and two or three kitestrings,

and some of these newfangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many's the time I wished I had

A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who was absent, and got under way at once.

"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the cave hollow no houses, no

woodyards, bushes all alike. But do you see that white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well,

"Now, Huck, where we're astanding you could touch that hole I got out of with a fishingpole. See if you

Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly marched into a thick clump of sumach

"Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in this country. You just keep mum about it. All along

I've been wanting to be a robber, but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where to run across it was

the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it quiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in because

of course there's got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. Tom Sawyer's Gang it

"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; and after you've kept them a year, if it ain't

raised then you kill them. That's the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the women, but

you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, and awfully scared. You take their watches and things,

but you always take your hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers you'll see that in

any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and after they've been in the cave a week or two weeks they

stop crying and after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'd turn right around and

"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and circuses and all that."

By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom in the lead. They toiled their way to the

farther end of the tunnel, then made their spliced kitestrings fast and moved on. A few steps brought them to

the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through him. He showed Huck the fragment of candlewick

perched on a lump of clay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the flame struggle

The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and gloom of the place oppressed their

spirits. They went on, and presently entered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the

"jumpingoff place." The candles revealed the fact that it was not really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill

"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There on the big rock over yonder done

"NOW where's your Number Two? 'UNDER THE CROSS,' hey? Right yonder's where I saw Injun Joe poke

"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he died away out at the mouth of the cave

"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways of ghosts, and so do you."

Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his mind. But presently an idea occurred to

"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's ghost ain't a going to come around

"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and

Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. Huck followed. Four avenues opened out

of the small cavern which the great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result. They

found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also

an old suspender, some bacon rind, and the wellgnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there was no

"He said UNDER the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the cross. It can't be under the rock itself,

They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged. Huck could suggest nothing.

"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle grease on the clay about one side of this rock, but not

on the other sides. Now, what's that for? I bet you the money IS under the rock. I'm going to dig in the clay."

Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches before he struck wood.

Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and removed. They had concealed a

natural chasm which led under the rock. Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as he

could, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed to explore. He stooped and passed under;

the narrow way descended gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to the left, Huck

It was the treasurebox, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern, along with an empty powderkeg, a

couple of guns in leather cases, two or three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbish

"Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with his hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!"

"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe, but we HAVE got it, sure! Say let's not

It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward fashion, but could not carry it

"I thought so," he said; "THEY carried it like it was heavy, that day at the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I

"No, Huck leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we go to robbing. We'll keep them there

all the time, and we'll hold our orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies."

"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've

been in here a long time. It's getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we get to the

They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily out, found the coast clear, and were

soon lunching and smoking in the skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and got under

way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chatting cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly

"Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the widow's woodshed, and I'll come up in the

morning and we'll count it and divide, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for it where it will be

safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff till I run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be

He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two small sacks into it, threw some old rags

on top of them, and started off, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the Welshman' s

house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to move on, the Welshman stepped out and said:

"Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting. Here hurry up, trot ahead I'll

haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not as light as it might be. Got bricks in it? or old metal?"

"I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool away more time hunting up six bits' worth

of old iron to sell to the foundry than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But that's human

"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you and the widow good friends?"

This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he found himself pushed, along with

Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawingroom. Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed.

The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any consequence in the village was there. The

Thatchers were there, the Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor, and a great

many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow received the boys as heartily as any one could well

receive two such looking beings. They were covered with clay and candlegrease. Aunt Polly blushed

crimson with humiliation, and frowned and shook her head at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two

"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him and Huck right at my door, and so I just

"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes shirts, socks, everything complete.

They're Huck's no, no thanks, Huck Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both of you.

HUCK said: "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain't high from the ground."

"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain't going down there, Tom."

"Tom," said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon. Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and

everybody's been fretting about you. Say ain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?"

"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all this blowout about, anyway?"

"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This time it's for the Welshman and his sons, on

account of that scrape they helped her out of the other night. And say I can tell you something, if you want

"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the people here tonight, but I overheard him tell

auntie today about it, as a secret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows the

widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones was bound Huck should be here couldn't get

"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Jones was going to make a grand time over

"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and that's you. If you had been in Huck's

place you'd 'a' sneaked down the hill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean

things, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones. There no thanks, as the widow

says" and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and helped him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie if

Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the suppertable, and a dozen children were propped up at

little sidetables in the same room, after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr.

Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for the honor she was doing himself and his

And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in the adventure in the finest dramatic

manner he was master of, but the surprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous and

effusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However, the widow made a pretty fair show of

astonishment, and heaped so many compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot the

nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely intolerable discomfort of being set up as a

The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have him educated; and that when she

could spare the money she would start him in business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said:

Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company kept back the due and proper

complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it:

"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of it. Oh, you needn't smile I reckon I can

Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with a perplexed interest and inquiringly at

"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "He well, there ain't ever any making of that boy out. I never "

Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly did not finish her sentence. Tom poured

The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spoke for a moment. Then there was a

unanimous call for an explanation. Tom said he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful of

interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break the charm of its flow. When he had

"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but it don't amount to anything now. This one

The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelve thousand dollars. It was more than any

one present had ever seen at one time before, though several persons were there who were worth considerably

THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made a mighty stir in the poor little village of

St. Petersburg. So vast a sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talked about, gloated over,

glorified, until the reason of many of the citizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every

"haunted" house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was dissected, plank by plank, and its

foundations dug up and ransacked for hidden treasure and not by boys, but men pretty grave,

unromantic men, too, some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they were courted, admired, stared

at. The boys were not able to remember that their remarks had possessed weight before; but now their sayings

were treasured and repeated; everything they did seemed somehow to be regarded as remarkable; they had

evidently lost the power of doing and saying commonplace things; moreover, their past history was raked up

and discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The village paper published biographical sketches of

The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent., and Judge Thatcher did the same with Tom's at

Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had an income, now, that was simply prodigious a dollar for every

weekday in the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got no, it was what he was

promised he generally couldn't collect it. A dollar and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a

Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no commonplace boy would ever have

got his daughter out of the cave. When Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her

whipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved; and when she pleaded grace for the mighty lie which Tom

had told in order to shift that whipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fine outburst that

it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous lie a lie that was worthy to hold up its head and march down

through history breast to breast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet! Becky thought her

father had never looked so tall and so superb as when he walked the floor and stamped his foot and said that.

Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some day. He said he meant to look to it

that Tom should be admitted to the National Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law school

Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the Widow Douglas' protection introduced him into

society no, dragged him into it, hurled him into it and his sufferings were almost more than he could

bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed and brushed, and they bedded him nightly in

unsympathetic sheets that had not one little spot or stain which he could press to his heart and know for a

friend. He had to eat with a knife and fork; he had to use napkin, cup, and plate; he had to learn his book, he

had to go to church; he had to talk so properly that speech was become insipid in his mouth; whithersoever he

turned, the bars and shackles of civilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot.

He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up missing. For fortyeight hours the

widow hunted for him everywhere in great distress. The public were profoundly concerned; they searched

high and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the third morning Tom Sawyer wisely went poking

among some old empty hogsheads down behind the abandoned slaughterhouse, and in one of them he found

the refugee. Huck had slept there; he had just breakfasted upon some stolen odds and ends of food, and was

lying off, now, in comfort, with his pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin of rags

that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free and happy. Tom routed him out, told him the

trouble he had been causing, and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content, and took a

"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don't work, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it.

The widder's good to me, and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just at the same

time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all to thunder; she won't let me sleep in the

woodshed; I got to wear them blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; they don't seem to any air git

through 'em, somehow; and they're so rotten nice that I can't set down, nor lay down, nor roll around

anywher's; I hain't slid on a cellardoor for well, it 'pears to be years; I got to go to church and sweat and

sweat I hate them ornery sermons! I can't ketch a fly in there, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday.

The widder eats by a bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell everything's so awful reg'lar a

"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't STAND it. It's awful to be tied up so. And

grub comes too easy I don't take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go afishing; I got to ask to

go in aswimming dern'd if I hain't got to ask to do everything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no

comfort I'd got to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste in my mouth, or I'd a died,

Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke; she wouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, nor

scratch, before folks " [Then with a spasm of special irritation and injury] "And dad fetch it, she prayed

all the time! I never see such a woman! I HAD to shove, Tom I just had to. And besides, that school's

going to open, and I'd a had to go to it well, I wouldn't stand THAT, Tom. Lookyhere, Tom, being rich

ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and awishing you was dead

all the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, and I ain't ever going to shake 'em any more.

Tom, I wouldn't ever got into all this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money; now you just take my sheer of

it along with your'n, and gimme a tencenter sometimes not many times, becuz I don't give a dern for a

thing 'thout it's tollable hard to git and you go and beg off for me with the widder."

"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair; and besides if you'll try this thing just a while longer you'll

"Like it! Yes the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I

won't live in them cussed smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and I'll stick to

'em, too. Blame it all! just as we'd got guns, and a cave, and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has

"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let you into the gang if you ain't respectable, you

"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more hightoned than what a pirate is as a general thing. In most

"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet me out, would you, Tom? You

"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I DON'T want to but what would people say? Why, they'd say, 'Mph! Tom

Sawyer's Gang! pretty low characters in it!' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't."

"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see if I can come to stand it, if you'll let me

"All right, Huck, it's a whiz! Come along, old chap, and I'll ask the widow to let up on you a little, Huck."

"Will you, Tom now will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some of the roughest things, I'll smoke

private and cuss private, and crowd through or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?"

"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiation tonight, maybe."

"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang's secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders,

"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done at midnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can

"Now, that's something LIKE! Why, it's a million times bullier than pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot,

Tom; and if I git to be a reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckon she'll be proud she

SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a BOY, it must stop here; the story could not go much

further without becoming the history of a MAN. When one writes a novel about grown people, he knows

exactly where to stop that is, with a marriage; but when he writes of juveniles, he must stop where he best

Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are prosperous and happy. Some day it may

seem worth while to take up the story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they

turned out to be; therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of that part of their lives at present.