Can‛t I ever learn anything? I‛ll
make him work tomorrow, to punish him. It ‛s harsh to
make him work on Saturdays, when all the boys are on holiday…
What ? Where?
My! Look behind you,
Aunt!
Well, I know. It ‛s jam, that ‛s what it is. Forty times I‛ve said, if you don‛t leave
that jam alone, I‛ll skin you.
I don‛t know, Aunt.
What is that thing in your mouth?
There you are! I should have
thought of that closet. What have you been
hiding in there?
Nothing!
Tom! Tom! Where are you? If I get hold
of you, I‛ll--
The old lady whirled round, snatched her skirt out of danger,
and the lad fled instantly.…and he hates
work more than he hates anything else.
But I‛ve got to do my duty by him, or he‛ll be ruined.
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Say, Tom, let me whitewash
a little.
Hmmmmm…
Like it ? Well, I don‛t see why I shouldn‛t like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a
fence every day?
Oh, come now, you don‛t
mean to say that you like it ?
Well, maybe it is and maybe it isn‛t. All I know is that it suits Tom
Sawyer.
What do you call
work?Why, isn‛t that work?
But of course, you‛d rather work,
wouldn‛t you? Of course you would!
Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth, stepped back to assess the result and added a touch
here and there. Ben watched every move, getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed.
That put the thing in a new light, and Ben stopped nibbling his apple.
Saturday morning came, and all the world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song
in every heart, and music on every pair of lips.
Tom appeared with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. As he looked at the fence, the joy went out of nature and a deep sadness settled upon his spirits.
Tom‛s brush continued to move.
Thirty yards of broad fence, nine feet high. It seemed to Tom that life was empty and existence
was a burden. And then, Ben Rogers came into sight – the very boy whose ridicule Tom had been dreading.
Tom, I‛m going swimming. Don‛t you wish
you could come?
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It ‛s not such an empty
world, after all.
I‛ll give you all of
it!
No, Ben. I‛m afraid--
I‛ve got it, Tom. I‛ll be just as
careful as you. And, if you let me try, I‛ll give you the
core of my apple.
Ben, I‛d like to, but Aunt Polly--
Well, I don‛t know. You see, Aunt Polly is very particular about this fence, and only one in
a thousand boys could do it just the way it ‛s got
to be done.
Oh, come now. Let me just
try; only just a little. I‛d let you, if you
were me, Tom.
Tom had discovered a great law of human nature, without knowing it – in order to make a person want something, you only
need to make it difficult to attain.
Tom gave up the brush with reluctance on his face, but eagerness in his heart. And, while Ben
worked and sweated in the sun, Tom munched the apple and planned how to trick more innocents.
There was no lack of material. Boys came along every now and then. They
came to jeer, but stayed to whitewash.
Tom traded the next go to Billy Fisher for a kite. And when he finished, Johnny Miller
bought in for a dead rat and a string to swing it with. And when the middle of the afternoon
came, Tom was literally rolling in wealth.
He had a nice, lazy time. If he hadn‛t run out of whitewash, he would have bankrupted every boy in the village.
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There‛s no getting around it,
you can work when you put your mind to it. Well, go
along and play.
I‛m not lying, Aunt. It ‛s
all done.
Tom, don‛t lie to me. I can‛t
bear it.May I go out and play
now, Aunt ?
What, already? How
much work have you done?
It ‛s all done.
Aunt Polly placed little trust in his words, and decided to go out and see for herself. She would have been happy to find twenty
percent of Tom‛s statement true.
And so, Tom hurried towards the village square, where two ‘military‛ companies of boys were meeting for conflict. Tom was general of one of these armies; Joe Harper
general of the other.
When she found the entire fence whitewashed, and not only whitewashed
but elaborately coated and recoated, her astonishment was almost unspeakable.
Tom‛s army won, after a long and hard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, the terms of the next disagreement
agreed upon, and the day for the necessary battle decided.
As Tom walked home, he was passing by the house where Judge Thatcher lived, when he saw a girl in the garden.
And the newly-crowned hero fell without firing a shot.
He worshipped this angel with an adoring eye, till he saw that she had discovered him. Then...
Later…
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…he began to show off in all sorts of absurd boyish ways,
in order to win her admiration.
Tom checked to see if anyone was watching, then picked up the flower between his toes.
She stopped on the steps for a moment, and then moved towards the door. Tom heaved a great sigh as she stepped into the entrance. But then his face lit up...
...because she tossed a pansy over the fence, before disappearing.
He kept this foolishness up for some time. But, by and by, when he was in the middle of some particularly dangerous performances…
…he glanced to one side, and saw that the little girl was heading towards the house.
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Tom Sawyer is a mischievous young boy with an undying hunger for adventure, and a knack for getting into trouble. He lives with his Aunt Polly in the Mississippi River town of St Petersburg, Missouri. He plays hooky from school; hangs around with Huck Finn, the unsophisticated son of the village drunkard; and deceives his friends into trading their treasures with him.
Tom falls in love with Becky Thatcher, a new arrival in town, who returns his affection initially, and even agrees to an ‘engagement’. However, after a slip of the tongue from Tom, she walks off in a huff.
From innocent and imaginary adventures, Tom’s life suddenly takes a new turn. One night, while Tom and Huck Finn are in a graveyard, they witness an incident they should not have. Terrifi ed, they fl ee from the spot, and swear a blood oath that they will never reveal their secret to anyone.
Tom and Huck then fi nd themselves entangled in a series of real and exciting adventures, with dangerous men constantly at their heels.
Can the boys stand up to the occasion, and become real-life heroes? Will they ever be able to reclaim their normal, carefree lives again?
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