The Adventures of Tom Sawyer Page 8

  CHAPTER VI

  MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always foundhim so--because it began another week's slow suffering in school. Hegenerally 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 wassick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague possibility.He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he investigatedagain. This time he thought he could detect colicky symptoms, and hebegan to encourage them with considerable hope. But they soon grewfeeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected further. Suddenlyhe discovered something. One of his upper front teeth was loose. Thiswas lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a "starter," as hecalled it, when it occurred to him that if he came into court with thatargument, his aunt would pull it out, and that would hurt. So he thoughthe would hold the tooth in reserve for the present, and seek further.Nothing offered for some little time, and then he remembered hearingthe doctor tell about a certain thing that laid up a patient for two orthree weeks and threatened to make him lose a finger. So the boy eagerlydrew his sore toe from under the sheet and held it up for inspection.But now he did not know the necessary symptoms. However, it seemedwell worth while to chance it, so he fell to groaning with considerablespirit.

  But Sid slept on unconscious.

  Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe.

  No result from Sid.

  Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and thenswelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans.

  Sid snored on.

  Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This courseworked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, thenbrought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at Tom.Tom went on groaning. Sid said:

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

  Tom moaned out:

  "Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me."

  "Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie."

  "No--never mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody."

  "But I must! _Don't_ groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been thisway?"

  "Hours. Ouch! Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me."

  "Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, _don't!_ It makes my fleshcrawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?"

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

  "Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tom--oh, don't. Maybe--"

  "I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you givemy window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that's come totown, and tell her--"

  But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in reality,now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his groans hadgathered quite a genuine tone.

  Sid flew downstairs and said:

  "Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!"

  "Dying!"

  "Yes'm. Don't wait--come quick!"

  "Rubbage! I don't believe it!"

  But she fled upstairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels.And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached thebedside she gasped out:

  "You, Tom! Tom, what's the matter with you?"

  "Oh, auntie, I'm--"

  "What's the matter with you--what is the matter with you, child?"

  "Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!"

  The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried alittle, then did both together. This restored her and she said:

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

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

  "Aunt Polly, it _seemed_ mortified, and it hurt so I never minded mytooth at all."

  "Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with your tooth?"

  "One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful."

  "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."

  Tom said:

  "Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wishI may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stayhome from school."

  "Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought you'dget to stay home from school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I love you so,and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart with youroutrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were ready. The oldlady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's tooth with a loopand tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the chunk of fire andsuddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The tooth hung danglingby the bedpost, now.

  But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school afterbreakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in hisupper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and admirableway. 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 andhomage 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 disdainwhich 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 dismantledhero.

  Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, HuckleberryFinn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated anddreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawlessand vulgar and bad--and because all their children admired him so, anddelighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be likehim. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he enviedHuckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict ordersnot to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance.Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grownmen, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hatwas 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 buttonsfar down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat ofthe trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs draggedin the dirt when not rolled up.

  Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorstepsin fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go toschool or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he couldgo fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as itsuited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as hepleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the springand the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, norput on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everythingthat goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every harassed,hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg.

  Tom hailed the romantic outcast:

  "Hello, Huckleberry!"

  "Hello yourself, and see how you like it."

  "What's that you got?"

  "Dead cat."

  "Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?"

  "Bought him off'n a boy."

  "What did you give?"

  "I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughter-house."

  "Where'd you get the blue ticket?"

  "Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoop-stick."

  "Say--what is dead cats good for, Huck?"

  "Good for? Cure warts with."

  "No! Is that so? I know something that's better."

  "I bet you don't. What is it?"

  "Why, spunk-water."

  "Spunk-water! I wouldn't
give a dern for spunk-water."

  "You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?"

  "No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did."

  "Who told you so!"

  "Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnnytold Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, and thenigger told me. There now!"

  "Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. Idon't know _him_. But I never see a nigger that _wouldn't_ lie. Shucks!Now you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck."

  "Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where the rain-waterwas."

  "In the daytime?"

  "Certainly."

  "With his face to the stump?"

  "Yes. Least I reckon so."

  "Did he say anything?"

  "I don't reckon he did. I don't know."

  "Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blame foolway as that! Why, that ain't a-going to do any good. You got to go allby yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's aspunk-water stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the stumpand jam your hand in and say:

  'Barley-corn, barley-corn, injun-meal shorts, Spunk-water, spunk-water,swaller these warts,'

  and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and thenturn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody.Because if you speak the charm's busted."

  "Well, that sounds like a good way; but that ain't the way Bob Tannerdone."

  "No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in thistown; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to workspunk-water. 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 manywarts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean."

  "Yes, bean's good. I've done that."

  "Have you? What's your way?"

  "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 diga hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of themoon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piecethat's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying tofetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw thewart, and pretty soon off she comes."

  "Yes, that's it, Huck--that's it; though when you're burying it if yousay '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 andmost everywheres. But say--how do you cure 'em with dead cats?"

  "Why, you take your cat and go and get in the grave-yard 'long aboutmidnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it'smidnight 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 'emand say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'mdone with ye!' That'll fetch _any_ wart."

  "Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?"

  "No, but old Mother Hopkins told me."

  "Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch."

  "Say! Why, Tom, I _know_ she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his ownself. He come along one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so hetook up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, thatvery night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and brokehis arm."

  "Why, that's awful. How did he know she was a-witching him?"

  "Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you rightstiddy, they're a-witching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz whenthey mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards."

  "Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?"

  "To-night. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams to-night."

  "But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?"

  "Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight?--and_then_ it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don'treckon."

  "I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?"

  "Of course--if you ain't afeard."

  "Afeard! 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?"

  "Yes--and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' mea-meowing 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 youtell."

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

  "Nothing but a tick."

  "Where'd you get him?"

  "Out in the woods."

  "What'll you take for him?"

  "I don't know. I don't want to sell him."

  "All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway."

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

  "Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if I wantedto."

  "Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is apretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year."

  "Say, Huck--I'll give you my tooth for him."

  "Less see it."

  Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry viewedit wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said:

  "Is it genuwyne?"

  Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy.

  "Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade."

  Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately been thepinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier thanbefore.

  When Tom reached the little isolated frame school-house, he strode inbriskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed. Hehung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with business-likealacrity. The master, throned on high in his great splint-bottomarm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. Theinterruption roused him.

  "Thomas Sawyer!"

  Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble.

  "Sir!"

  "Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?"

  Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails ofyellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electricsympathy of love; and by that form was _the only vacant place_ on thegirls' side of the school-house. He instantly said:

  "_I stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn!_"

  The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz ofstudy ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost hismind. The master said:

  "You--you did what?"

  "Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn."

  There was no mistaking the words.

  "Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have everlistened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off yourjacket."

  The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of switchesnotably diminished. Then the order followed:

  "Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let this be a warning to you."

  The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, butin reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful aweof his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high goodfortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl hitchedherself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks andwhispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon thelong, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book.

  By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmurrose upon the dull air once more. Presently the boy began to stealfurtive glances at the girl. She observed it, "made a mouth" at himand gave him the back of her head for the space of a minute. When shecautiously faced around again, a peach lay before her. She thrust itaway. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with lessanimosity. Tom patiently ret
urned it to its place. Then she let itremain. Tom scrawled on his slate, "Please take it--I got more." Thegirl glanced at the words, but made no sign. Now the boy began to drawsomething on the slate, hiding his work with his left hand. For a timethe girl refused to notice; but her human curiosity presently beganto manifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on,apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort of non-committal attemptto see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last shegave in and hesitatingly whispered:

  "Let me see it."

  Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable endsto it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the girl'sinterest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot everythingelse. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then whispered:

  "It's nice--make a man."

  The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. Hecould have stepped over the house; but the girl was not hypercritical;she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered:

  "It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along."

  Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and armedthe spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said:

  "It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw."

  "It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you."

  "Oh, will you? When?"

  "At noon. Do you go home to dinner?"

  "I'll stay if you will."

  "Good--that's a whack. What's your name?"

  "Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer."

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

  "Yes."

  Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words fromthe girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tomsaid:

  "Oh, it ain't anything."

  "Yes it is."

  "No it ain't. You don't want to see."

  "Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me."

  "You'll tell."

  "No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't."

  "You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?"

  "No, I won't ever tell _any_body. Now let me."

  "Oh, _you_ don't want to see!"

  "Now that you treat me so, I _will_ see." And she put her small handupon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist inearnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words wererevealed: "_I love you_."

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

  Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on hisear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across thehouse and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of gigglesfrom the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few awfulmoments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a word. Butalthough Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant.

  As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, butthe turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in thereading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class andturned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers intocontinents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, andgot "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he broughtup at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn withostentation for months.