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 locust trees were in bloom, and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air.
Tom a ppea red on the si de-wa lk wi th a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and the gladness went out of nature, and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of broad fence nine feet high! It seemed to him that life was 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 far- reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box 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 therewaiting 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 somebody generally had to go after him. Tom said :-"Say, Jim, I"ll fetch the water if you"ll whitewash some. " "Can"t, Ma"rs Tom. Ole missis she tole me I got to go an"
git dis water an" not stop foolin" roun" wid anybody. ""Jim. I"ll give you a marble. I"ll give you a white alley! "Jim was only human-this attraction was too much for him. He put down his pail, took the white alley. In another minute he was flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear. Tom was whitewashing with vigour, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye.
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 may be, but not 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 hop, skip, and jump-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 deep-toned ding dong dong, dong dong dong, 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, captain, and engine bells combined, so he had to imagine himself standing on his own hurricane- deck giving the orders and executing them.
"Stop her, sir! Ling-a-ling-ling. " The headway ran almost out, and he drew up slowly towards the side-walk. "ship up to back! Ling-a-ling-ling! " His arms straightened and stiffened down his sides. "Set her back on the stabboard ! Ling-a-ling- ling ! Chow ! Ch-chow- wow-chow! " his right hand meantime describing stately circles, for it was representing a forty-foot wheel. "Let her go back on the labboard! Ling-a-ling-ling! Ling-a- ling-ling! Chow-ch-chow-chow! " The left hand began to describe circles.
"Stop the stabboard ! Ling-a-ling-ling ! Stop the labboard! Come ahead on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outsideturn over slow! Ling-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow ! Get out that head-line ! Lively, now ! Come-out with your spring-line- 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! Ling-a-ling-ling ! Sht ! s"sht ! sht ! " (Trying the gauge-cocks.)Tom went on whitewashing-paid no attention to the steamer. Ben stared a moment, and then said:
" Hi-yi ! You"re up a stump, ain"t you ? "
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 he stuck to his work. Ben said:
" Hello, old chap! You got to work, hey ? " " Why, it"s you, Ben! I warn"t noticing. ""Say, I"m going in s-swimming, I am. Don"t you wish you could? But, of course, you"d druther work, wouldn"t you ? "course you would ! "Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: "What do you call work? ""Why, ain"t that work ? "Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: "Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain"t. All I know is, it suitsTom Sawyer. ""Oh, come, you don"t mean to let on that you like it? "The brush continued to move.
"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- criticized the effect again, Ben watching every move, and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:
"Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little. "
Tom considered, was about to consent, but he altered his mind. "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 thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it the way it"s got to be done. ""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. "" Oh, shucks; I"ll be just as careful. Now lemme try Say- I"ll give you the core of my apple. ""Well, here. No, Ben; now don"t; I"m afeard--" "I"ll give you all of it! "Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face but alacrity in his heart. And, while the lake 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 poverty- stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling in wealth. He had, besides the things I have mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jew"s-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass 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 fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass door-knob, a dog-collar-but no dog- the handle of a knife, four pieces of orange peel, and a dilapidated old window-sash. 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.
From The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, by Mark Twain.
Author.-Ma r k Tw a i n , pen-name of SAMUEL. LANGHORNE CLEMENS(1835-1910), the most popular of American humorists. He was born in the State of Missouri (see map), and had very little schooling. At 13 he became a type-setter in a printing office; later a steam-boat pilot on the Mississippi ( "Mark Twain " was a frequent call of the sounder to indicate that the water was two fathoms deep). Among his humerous works Tom Sawyer (from which this extract is taken) and Huckleberry Finn are splendid books for boys. He wrote also The Innocents Abroad, A Yankee at the Court of King Arthur, Pudd"nhead Wilson, The Prince and the Pauper, Recollections of Joan of Arc, etc.
General Notes.-The locust is an American tree which bears white blossoms, and bean-like pods. Mulatto is a negro half-caste. "Ben was personating a steam-boat. " What various things have you personated? How do you know that the Big Missouri was a paddle steamer ? Whatwas the secret of Tom"s success in making the other boys work for him ?
