The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Complete

Chapter Xxxv. a New Order of Things—Poor Huck—New Adventures Planned

ILLUSTRATIONS

Tom Sawyer

Tom at Home

Aunt Polly Beguiled

A Good Opportunity

Who’s Afraid

Late Home

Jim

’Tendin’ to Business

Ain’t that Work?

Cat and Toys

Amusement

Becky Thatcher

Paying Off

After the Battle

“Showing Off”

Not Amiss

Mary

Tom Contemplating

Dampened Ardor

Youth

Boyhood

Using the “Barlow”

The Church

Necessities

Tom as a Sunday-School Hero

The Prize

At Church

The Model Boy

The Church Choir

A Side Show

Result of Playing in Church

The Pinch-Bug

Sid

Dentistry

Huckleberry Finn

Mother Hopkins

Result of Tom’s Truthfulness

Tom as an Artist

Interrupted Courtship

The Master

Vain Pleading

Tail Piece

The Grave in the Woods

Tom Meditates

Robin Hood and his Foe

Death of Robin Hood

Midnight

Tom’s Mode of Egress

Tom’s Effort at Prayer

Muff Potter Outwitted

The Graveyard

Forewarnings

Disturbing Muff’s Sleep

Tom’s Talk with his Aunt

Muff Potter

A Suspicious Incident

Injun Joe’s two Victims

In the Coils

Peter

Aunt Polly seeks Information

A General Good Time

Demoralized

Joe Harper

On Board Their First Prize

The Pirates Ashore

Wild Life

The Pirate’s Bath

The Pleasant Stroll

The Search for the Drowned

The Mysterious Writing

River View

What Tom Saw

Tom Swims the River

Taking Lessons

The Pirates’ Egg Market

Tom Looking for Joe’s Knife

The Thunder Storm

Terrible Slaughter

The Mourner

Tom’s Proudest Moment

Amy Lawrence

Tom tries to Remember

The Hero

A Flirtation

Becky Retaliates

A Sudden Frost

Counter-irritation

Aunt Polly

Tom justified

The Discovery

Caught in the Act

Tom Astonishes the School

Literature

Tom Declaims

Examination Evening

On Exhibition

Prize Authors

The Master’s Dilemma

The School House

The Cadet

Happy for Two Days

Enjoying the Vacation

The Stolen Melons

The Judge

Visiting the Prisoner

Tom Swears

The Court Room

The Detective

Tom Dreams

The Treasure

The Private Conference

A King; Poor Fellow!

Business

The Ha’nted House

Injun Joe

The Greatest and Best

Hidden Treasures Unearthed

The Boy’s Salvation

Room No. 2

The Next Day’s Conference

Treasures

Uncle Jake

Buck at Home

The Haunted Room

“Run for Your Life”

McDougal’s Cave

Inside the Cave

Huck on Duty

A Rousing Act

Tail Piece

The Welshman

Result of a Sneeze

Cornered

Alarming Discoveries

Tom and Becky stir up the Town

Tom’s Marks

Huck Questions the Widow

Vampires

Wonders of the Cave

Attacked by Natives

Despair

The Wedding Cake

A New Terror

Daylight

“Turn Out” to Receive Tom and Becky

The Escape from the Cave

Fate of the Ragged Man

The Treasures Found

Caught at Last

Drop after Drop

Having a Good Time

A Business Trip

“Got it at Last!”

Tail Piece

Widow Douglas

Tom Backs his Statement

Tail Piece

Huck Transformed

Comfortable Once More

High up in Society

Contentment

PREFACE

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 belongs to the composite order of architecture.

The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children and slaves in the West at the period of this story—that is to say, thirty or forty years ago.

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 sometimes engaged in.

THE AUTHOR.

HARTFORD, 1876.

CHAPTER I. “tom!”

“Tom!”

No answer.

“TOM!”

No answer.

“What’s gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!”

No answer.

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 stove-lids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear:

“Well, I lay if I get hold of you I’ll—”

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.

“I never did see the beat of that boy!”

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:

“Y-o-u-u TOM!”

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

“There! I might ’a’ thought of that closet. What you been doing in there?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What is that truck?”

“I don’t know, aunt.”

“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. Hand me that switch.”

The switch hovered in the air—the peril was desperate—

“My! Look behind you, aunt!”

The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and disappeared over it.

His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle laugh.

“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 laws-a-me! 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. Well-a-well, 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 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 ruination of the child.”

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 next-day’s wood and split the kindlings before supper—at least he was there in time to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the work. Tom’s younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a quiet boy, and had no adventurous, trouble-some ways.

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 simple-hearted 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. Said she:

“Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn’t it?”

“Yes’m.”

“Powerful warm, warn’t it?”

“Yes’m.”

“Didn’t you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?”

A bit of a scare shot through Tom—a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Aunt Polly’s face, but it told him nothing. So he said:

“No’m—well, not very much.”

The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom’s shirt, and said:

“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 the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:

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