這本小說裏的冒險故事確曾發生過。其中，有一兩件是我自己的親身經歷，另外一些都 是我少年時的同學們的。湯姆和哈剋·費恩這兩個人物形象都取材於生活，所不同的是：
湯姆是我認識的三個孩子的化身，是多個人物的混合體。
書中述及的一些迷信，稀奇古怪。三四十年前，在西部的孩子們和奴隸們當中，它們甚 為流行。
我寫這本小說主要是為了娛樂孩子們，但我也希望大人們不要因為這是本兒童讀的書就 將它束之高閣。
此外，我還試圖想讓那些成年人從書中想起當年的他們，那時的情感、思想、言談以及 一些令人不可思議的作法。
是為序。
１８７６年作者於哈特福德
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.
湯姆是我認識的三個孩子的化身，是多個人物的混合體。
書中述及的一些迷信，稀奇古怪。三四十年前，在西部的孩子們和奴隸們當中，它們甚 為流行。
我寫這本小說主要是為了娛樂孩子們，但我也希望大人們不要因為這是本兒童讀的書就 將它束之高閣。
此外，我還試圖想讓那些成年人從書中想起當年的他們，那時的情感、思想、言談以及 一些令人不可思議的作法。
是為序。
１８７６年作者於哈特福德
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.
“湯姆！”
沒人答應。
“湯姆！”
又沒人答應。
“這孩子到底怎麽啦，我真搞不懂？你這個湯姆！”
還是沒有人答應。
這老太太拉低眼鏡從鏡片上方朝房間看了看，然後她又擡高眼鏡從鏡片下面看。她很少 或者幹脆說她從來沒戴正眼鏡來找像一個小男孩這樣小的東西。這副眼鏡是很考究的，也是 她的驕傲，她配這副眼鏡不是為了實用，而是為了“裝飾”，為了“漂亮”。她看東西時， 即使戴上兩片爐子蓋也照樣看得一清二楚。她茫然不知所措地愣了一會兒。然後雖然不是兇 神惡煞般，但嗓門高得讓每個角落都能聽到，她說：
“好，我發誓如果我抓住你，我就——”
她話沒有說完，因為這時她正彎腰用掃把往床下猛搗，每搗一下，她需要停下來換口 氣。結果，衹搗出來一隻貓。
“我還從沒有見過這麽令人吃驚的孩子！”
她走到敞開的門口，站在那裏朝滿園子的西紅柿藤和吉普遜草叢中看，想找到湯姆，可 還是沒有。於是她亮開嗓子朝遠處，高聲喊到：
“湯姆呀，湯姆！”
這時在她身後傳來一聲輕微的響聲，她轉身一把抓住了一個小男孩的短外套的衣角，他 想跑都跑不掉了。
“嘿！我早該想到那個壁櫥，你躲在那裏幹什麽？”
“沒幹什麽。”
“沒幹什麽？！瞧你那雙手，再看你那張嘴，還有那渾身是什麽？”
“我不知道，姨媽。”
“哎，我知道，那是蜜餞——對，就是。我已跟你講過有四十遍了，不要動我的蜜餞， 否則我就扒你的皮。把鞭子遞給我。”
鞭子在空中晃悠——情況萬分緊急。
“不得了！瞧你身後是什麽，姨媽！”
老太太以為有危險，急忙撩起裙子，轉過身去。湯姆撥腿就逃，頃刻他爬過高高的木柵 欄，一轉眼就消失得無影無蹤。
他的波莉姨媽站在那兒先是一愣，隨後突然輕聲笑了起來。
“這個該死的，我怎麽老是不吸取教訓？和我開這樣的玩笑，也不知開過多少次了。難 道我不該有所提防嗎？人老了，糊塗纔是最大的糊塗蛋。俗話說得好，老狗學不會新把戲。 可是天啦！他耍的鬼把戲裏從來沒有兩天一樣的，誰能猜出下個鬼主意是什麽？他似乎知 道，他能折磨我多長時間，我纔會動肝火，而且他也知道他衹要想個法哄哄我，惹我大笑一 場，就會萬事皆休，我也不會揍他一頓。我對他是敢怒不能揍。我對那孩子沒盡到責任，上 帝知道那是真的。《聖經》裏說：‘孩子不打不成器。’我太溺愛那孩子，我也知道這對我 倆都不好。他一肚鬼點子。哎呀，但他是我那死去的親姐姐的兒子，可憐的孩子，我怎麽也 不忍心揍他。每一次饒了他，我良心都受譴責；可是每一回打他，我都有點心痛不忍。哎， 哎，就像《聖經》所說的，人為母生，光陰荏苒，充滿苦難。我看這話說得一點都不錯。今 天下午他要是逃學，明天我就想法讓他幹點活，懲罰懲罰他。星期六讓他幹活，恐怕苛刻了 點，因為所有的孩子都放了假，他又恨透了幹活，比恨什麽都厲害。可是我不得不對他盡到 我的責任，否則我會把這個孩子給毀了。”
湯姆真的沒去上課，而且痛痛快快地玩了一場。他回傢時正好趕上幫那小黑孩吉姆的 忙，幫他在晚飯前鋸第二天用的木頭，劈引火用的柴——至少他及時趕到那兒，把他所幹的 事講給吉姆聽，而活卻是吉姆幹了四分之三。湯姆的弟弟（確切地說是同母異父的弟弟）希 德已幹完了他那份活（撿碎木塊），因為他是個不聲不響的孩子，從不幹什麽冒險的事，也 不惹什麽麻煩。
湯姆吃晚飯的時候，總是瞅機會偷糖吃，波莉姨媽這時開始問他，話裏充滿了詭計，而 且非常巧妙——因為她要設點圈套，套他說出實話來。跟其他許多頭腦簡單的人一樣，她很 自負，並且相信自己很有點子，會耍弄詭秘狡猾的手腕，把自己極易被人識破的詭計當作最 高明的計策，她說：
“湯姆，學校裏挺熱的，對吧？”
“是的，姨媽。”
“熱的厲害，對不對？”
“對，姨媽。”
“你是不是想去遊泳來着，湯姆。”
湯姆忽然感到有點慌張——一絲不安和疑惑掠過心頭。他偷眼察看波莉姨媽的臉色，可 什麽也沒有看出來。於是他說：
“沒有啊，姨媽——呃，沒怎麽想去。”
老太太伸出手摸摸湯姆的襯衣，說道：
“可是你現在卻並不怎麽熱，是吧！”她已發現襯衣是幹的，卻沒有人知道她內心的真 正用意，為此她感到很得意。而湯姆猜透了她的心思，所以他為防老太太的下一招來了個先 發製人。
“有的人往大傢頭上打水——你瞧，我的頭髮還是濕的呢！”
波莉姨媽很懊惱，她居然沒註意到這個明擺着的事實，以致錯過了一次機會。可接着她 靈機一動，計上心來：
“湯姆，你往頭上澆水的時候，不必拆掉我給你襯衫上縫的領子吧？把上衣的紐扣解 開！”
湯姆臉上的不安馬上就消失了。他解開上衣，襯衣的領子還是縫的好好的。
“真是怪事。得，算了吧！我看你曠課去遊泳了！我認為你就像俗話裏說的燒焦毛的貓 一樣——並不像表面看起來的那樣壞。就這一次，下不為例。”
她一面為自己的計謀落空而難過，一面又為湯姆這一次竟能如此溫順聽話而高興。
可是希德卻說：
“哼，我記得你好像給他縫領子用的是白綫，可現在卻是黑綫。”
“嘿，我的確用白綫縫的！湯姆！”
可湯姆沒等聽完話就走了。他走出門口的時候說：
“希德，為這我可要狠狠揍你一頓。”
在一個安全的地方，湯姆仔細檢查了別在上衣翻領上的兩根大針，針上還穿着綫，一根 繞着白綫，另一根繞着黑綫。
他說：
“如果不是希德，她是永遠不會註意到的。真討厭！有時她用白綫縫，有時又用黑綫。 我真希望她總是用一種綫——換來換去我實在記不住。不過，我發誓非揍希德一頓不可，我 要好好教訓教訓他。”
湯姆不是村裏的模範男孩，但他對那位模範男孩非常熟悉，並且很討厭他。
不到兩分鐘，甚至更短，他已將全部煩惱給忘記了。就像大人們的煩惱也是煩惱一樣， 他忘記煩惱並不是因為他的煩惱對他不怎麽沉重和難受，而是因為一種新的、更強烈的興趣 暫時壓倒並驅散了他心中的煩悶——就像大人們在新奇感受的興奮之時，也會暫時忘卻自己 的不幸一樣。這種新産生的興趣就是一種新的吹口哨方法，它很有價值，是剛從一個黑人那 學到的，現在他正要一心練習練習又不想被別人打擾。這聲音很特別，像小鳥的叫聲，一種 流暢而委婉的音調。在吹這個調子的時候，舌頭斷斷續續地抵住口腔的上齶——讀者若曾經 也是孩子的話，也許還記得該怎樣吹這種口哨。湯姆學得很勤奮，練得很專心，很快就掌握 了其中要領。於是他沿街大步流星地走着，口中吹着口哨，心裏樂滋滋的，那股樂勁如同天 文學家發現了新行星時一般，僅就樂的程度之深之強烈而言，此時的湯姆絶對比天文學家還 要興奮。
夏天的下午很長，這時天還沒有黑。湯姆的口哨聲忽然停住了，因為在他面前出現了一 個陌生人——一個比他大一點的男孩。
在聖彼德堡這個貧窮、破落的小村子裏，不管是男的還是女的，老的還是少的，衹要是 新來的，就能引起人們的好奇心。而且這個男孩穿得非常講究——在平常工作日竟穿戴如此 整齊，僅這就讓湯姆對他颳目相看。他的帽子很精緻，藍色的上衣扣得緊緊的，又新又整 潔，他的褲子也是一樣。他竟然還穿着鞋——要知道，今天可是星期五！他甚至還打了條領 帶，那是條顔色鮮亮的絲質領帶。他擺出一副城裏人的架勢，湯姆對此感到很不自在。湯姆 眼盯着他那套漂亮的衣服，鼻子翹得高高的。可是他越看越是覺得自己身上的衣服很寒酸破 舊。兩個人都一聲不吭。一個挪動一步，另一個也挪一步——可都是斜着步子兜圈子。他倆 面對面，眼對眼這樣相持了很長時間，最後還是湯姆先開了腔：
“我能打得過你！”
“我倒想見識見識。”
“那好，我就打給你看。”
“得了，你不行。”
“我行。”
“你就是不行。”
“我就是行。”
“不行！”
“行！”
“不行！”
兩個人都不自在地停了下來。接着湯姆問道：
“你叫什麽名字？”
“這也許你管不着！”
“哼，我就管得着！”
“好，那你就管管看。”
“要是你再囉嗦，我就管給你看。”
“囉嗦——囉嗦——偏要囉嗦，看你能怎麽樣？”
“哎，你認為你自己很了不起，是不是？如果我想你的話，一隻手背在後面都能打 過你。”
“好啊，你說你能打過我，那你為什麽不動手啊？”
“如果你老是嘴硬的話，我就打給你看。”
“嘿——你這種人我見得多了，盡吹大話下不了臺！”
“哈！你自以為是個人物呢！瞧，你那帽子！”
“你要是看不順眼你就把它摘下來呀，如果你敢碰，我就揍扁你！”
“你吹牛。”
“你也是吹牛。”
“你光是講大話，不敢動手。”
“噢，滾你的蛋吧！”
“告訴你——要是你再駡我的話，我就用石頭砸碎你的腦袋。”
“那好，你就來砸啊！”
“我肯定會的。”
“那你為什麽不來試試？你老是吹牛不敢動手，哦，我知道你害怕了。”
“我纔不怕呢！”
“你怕！”
“我不怕！”
“你就是怕！”
兩個人暫停了一會兒，接着又眼對眼，身子側身子兜着圈子走了幾步。忽然兩個人肩抵 着肩。湯姆說：
“你從這滾吧！”
“你自己滾吧！”
“我不滾。”
“我也不滾。”
於是他倆站在那兒，雙方都斜着一隻腳撐着勁，用盡力氣想把對手往後推，兩個人都憤 恨地瞪着對方。可是誰都沒占優勢。他們直鬥得渾身燥熱，滿臉通紅，然後兩人稍稍放鬆， 卻都小心謹慎地提防着對方。這時，湯姆又說：“你是個膽小鬼，是個狗崽子。我要嚮我大 哥哥告你的狀，他衹要動動小指頭就能把你捏碎，我會讓他揍你的。”
“我可不怕你什麽大哥哥，我有一個比你大哥還大的大哥哥——而且我大哥哥能把你的 大哥哥從那堵籬笆圍墻扔過去。”
（兩個人的所謂的大哥哥都是虛構的。）
“你撒謊。”
“你講的也不是真的。”
湯姆用大腳趾頭在地上的灰土上劃了一道綫，說：
“你若敢跨過這道綫，我就把你打趴在地上，讓你站不起來。誰敢，誰就得吃不了兜着 走。”
這個新來的男孩毫不猶豫地跨過那道綫，說：
“你說你敢打我，現在來看看你怎麽打法。”
“你不要逼我！你最好還是當心點。”
“哎，你不是說要打我嗎？——你為什麽不動手啊？”
“得了，你要是肯給我兩個分幣，我就動手。”
新來的男孩果真從衣服口袋裏掏出兩個分幣，嘲弄地攤開手掌。湯姆一把將錢打翻在 地。立刻兩個人像兩衹爭食的貓一樣，在地上的塵土裏滾打，撕扯起來，緊接着又是扯頭 發，又是揪衣領，拼命地捶打對方的鼻子，抓對方的臉。兩個人都弄得渾身是土，卻又都威 風凜凜。最後誰勝誰敗逐漸見了分曉，湯姆從塵土中爬起來，騎在那個男孩的身上，攥緊拳 頭使勁地打那個男孩。
“挨夠了嗎？求饒吧！”他說。
那個男孩衹想掙脫出來。他氣得嚎啕大哭。
湯姆還在不停地捶打，說：“求饒吧！”
那男孩衹好擠出幾個字：“饒了我！”
湯姆讓他站起來，對他說：
“現在你知道我的厲害了吧！以後最好給我小心點，看看在跟誰嘴硬。”
這位新來的男孩拍拍身上的塵土，哭哭啼啼地走開了。他不時地回過頭來，搖晃着腦 袋，嚇唬湯姆：
“下次要是抓住你，我就，我就……”
湯姆對此不屑一顧，趾高氣揚地走開了。他的背剛一轉過來，那男孩子就抓起一塊石頭 朝他砸過來，正打在湯姆的背上，接着就夾着尾巴，像羚羊似的飛快地跑掉了。湯姆窮追不 捨，直追到他傢。他就站在人傢大門口，嚷着叫那男孩出來較量，可是那個對手衹是在窗子 裏朝他擠鼻子弄眼，拒不迎戰。最後那對手的媽媽出來了，咒駡湯姆是個下流、沒有傢 教的壞孩子，喝斥他趕快滾開。於是湯姆就走了，不過，他臨走時說還要尋機再教訓教訓那 混小子一頓。
那天晚上，他回到傢時已經很遲了。當他小心翼翼地從窗戶往裏爬時，猛然間發現了有 人埋伏，仔細一看，原來是他的波莉姨媽。她看到他衣服被弄成那副樣子，原來就打算讓湯 姆在星期六休息日幹活的决心現在就更加堅定了。
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 (* Southwestern for "afternoon") I'll just be obleeged to make him work, to-morrow, 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, troublesome 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:
"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?"
Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new inspiration:
"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!"
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 a-swimming. 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 for once.
But Sidney said:
"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, but it's black."
"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!"
But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:
"Siddy, I'll lick you for that."
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 you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!"
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 bird-like 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 new-comer 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 week-day. This was simply astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned 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:
"I can lick you!"
"I'd like to see you try it."
"Well, I can do it."
"No you can't, either."
"Yes I can."
"No you can't."
"I can."
"You can't."
"Can!"
"Can't!"
An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:
"What's your name?"
"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe."
"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business."
"Well why don't you?"
"If you say much, I will."
"Much--much--MUCH. There now."
"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to."
"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it."
"Well I WILL, if you fool with me."
"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix."
"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!"
"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 suck eggs."
"You're a liar!"
"You're another."
"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up."
"Aw--take a walk!"
"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a rock off'n your head."
"Oh, of COURSE you will."
"Well I WILL."
"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for? Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid."
"I AIN'T afraid."
"You are."
"I ain't."
"You are."
Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:
"Get away from here!"
"Go away yourself!"
"I won't."
"I won't either."
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 flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:
"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 I'll make him do it, too."
"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 throw him over that fence, too." (Both brothers were imaginary.)
"That's a lie."
"YOUR saying so don't make it so."
Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
"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 sheep."
The new boy stepped over promptly, and said:
"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it."
"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out."
"Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?"
"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it."
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 boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage.
"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on.
At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up and said:
"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next time."
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 away. So he went away; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy.
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.
沒人答應。
“湯姆！”
又沒人答應。
“這孩子到底怎麽啦，我真搞不懂？你這個湯姆！”
還是沒有人答應。
這老太太拉低眼鏡從鏡片上方朝房間看了看，然後她又擡高眼鏡從鏡片下面看。她很少 或者幹脆說她從來沒戴正眼鏡來找像一個小男孩這樣小的東西。這副眼鏡是很考究的，也是 她的驕傲，她配這副眼鏡不是為了實用，而是為了“裝飾”，為了“漂亮”。她看東西時， 即使戴上兩片爐子蓋也照樣看得一清二楚。她茫然不知所措地愣了一會兒。然後雖然不是兇 神惡煞般，但嗓門高得讓每個角落都能聽到，她說：
“好，我發誓如果我抓住你，我就——”
她話沒有說完，因為這時她正彎腰用掃把往床下猛搗，每搗一下，她需要停下來換口 氣。結果，衹搗出來一隻貓。
“我還從沒有見過這麽令人吃驚的孩子！”
她走到敞開的門口，站在那裏朝滿園子的西紅柿藤和吉普遜草叢中看，想找到湯姆，可 還是沒有。於是她亮開嗓子朝遠處，高聲喊到：
“湯姆呀，湯姆！”
這時在她身後傳來一聲輕微的響聲，她轉身一把抓住了一個小男孩的短外套的衣角，他 想跑都跑不掉了。
“嘿！我早該想到那個壁櫥，你躲在那裏幹什麽？”
“沒幹什麽。”
“沒幹什麽？！瞧你那雙手，再看你那張嘴，還有那渾身是什麽？”
“我不知道，姨媽。”
“哎，我知道，那是蜜餞——對，就是。我已跟你講過有四十遍了，不要動我的蜜餞， 否則我就扒你的皮。把鞭子遞給我。”
鞭子在空中晃悠——情況萬分緊急。
“不得了！瞧你身後是什麽，姨媽！”
老太太以為有危險，急忙撩起裙子，轉過身去。湯姆撥腿就逃，頃刻他爬過高高的木柵 欄，一轉眼就消失得無影無蹤。
他的波莉姨媽站在那兒先是一愣，隨後突然輕聲笑了起來。
“這個該死的，我怎麽老是不吸取教訓？和我開這樣的玩笑，也不知開過多少次了。難 道我不該有所提防嗎？人老了，糊塗纔是最大的糊塗蛋。俗話說得好，老狗學不會新把戲。 可是天啦！他耍的鬼把戲裏從來沒有兩天一樣的，誰能猜出下個鬼主意是什麽？他似乎知 道，他能折磨我多長時間，我纔會動肝火，而且他也知道他衹要想個法哄哄我，惹我大笑一 場，就會萬事皆休，我也不會揍他一頓。我對他是敢怒不能揍。我對那孩子沒盡到責任，上 帝知道那是真的。《聖經》裏說：‘孩子不打不成器。’我太溺愛那孩子，我也知道這對我 倆都不好。他一肚鬼點子。哎呀，但他是我那死去的親姐姐的兒子，可憐的孩子，我怎麽也 不忍心揍他。每一次饒了他，我良心都受譴責；可是每一回打他，我都有點心痛不忍。哎， 哎，就像《聖經》所說的，人為母生，光陰荏苒，充滿苦難。我看這話說得一點都不錯。今 天下午他要是逃學，明天我就想法讓他幹點活，懲罰懲罰他。星期六讓他幹活，恐怕苛刻了 點，因為所有的孩子都放了假，他又恨透了幹活，比恨什麽都厲害。可是我不得不對他盡到 我的責任，否則我會把這個孩子給毀了。”
湯姆真的沒去上課，而且痛痛快快地玩了一場。他回傢時正好趕上幫那小黑孩吉姆的 忙，幫他在晚飯前鋸第二天用的木頭，劈引火用的柴——至少他及時趕到那兒，把他所幹的 事講給吉姆聽，而活卻是吉姆幹了四分之三。湯姆的弟弟（確切地說是同母異父的弟弟）希 德已幹完了他那份活（撿碎木塊），因為他是個不聲不響的孩子，從不幹什麽冒險的事，也 不惹什麽麻煩。
湯姆吃晚飯的時候，總是瞅機會偷糖吃，波莉姨媽這時開始問他，話裏充滿了詭計，而 且非常巧妙——因為她要設點圈套，套他說出實話來。跟其他許多頭腦簡單的人一樣，她很 自負，並且相信自己很有點子，會耍弄詭秘狡猾的手腕，把自己極易被人識破的詭計當作最 高明的計策，她說：
“湯姆，學校裏挺熱的，對吧？”
“是的，姨媽。”
“熱的厲害，對不對？”
“對，姨媽。”
“你是不是想去遊泳來着，湯姆。”
湯姆忽然感到有點慌張——一絲不安和疑惑掠過心頭。他偷眼察看波莉姨媽的臉色，可 什麽也沒有看出來。於是他說：
“沒有啊，姨媽——呃，沒怎麽想去。”
老太太伸出手摸摸湯姆的襯衣，說道：
“可是你現在卻並不怎麽熱，是吧！”她已發現襯衣是幹的，卻沒有人知道她內心的真 正用意，為此她感到很得意。而湯姆猜透了她的心思，所以他為防老太太的下一招來了個先 發製人。
“有的人往大傢頭上打水——你瞧，我的頭髮還是濕的呢！”
波莉姨媽很懊惱，她居然沒註意到這個明擺着的事實，以致錯過了一次機會。可接着她 靈機一動，計上心來：
“湯姆，你往頭上澆水的時候，不必拆掉我給你襯衫上縫的領子吧？把上衣的紐扣解 開！”
湯姆臉上的不安馬上就消失了。他解開上衣，襯衣的領子還是縫的好好的。
“真是怪事。得，算了吧！我看你曠課去遊泳了！我認為你就像俗話裏說的燒焦毛的貓 一樣——並不像表面看起來的那樣壞。就這一次，下不為例。”
她一面為自己的計謀落空而難過，一面又為湯姆這一次竟能如此溫順聽話而高興。
可是希德卻說：
“哼，我記得你好像給他縫領子用的是白綫，可現在卻是黑綫。”
“嘿，我的確用白綫縫的！湯姆！”
可湯姆沒等聽完話就走了。他走出門口的時候說：
“希德，為這我可要狠狠揍你一頓。”
在一個安全的地方，湯姆仔細檢查了別在上衣翻領上的兩根大針，針上還穿着綫，一根 繞着白綫，另一根繞着黑綫。
他說：
“如果不是希德，她是永遠不會註意到的。真討厭！有時她用白綫縫，有時又用黑綫。 我真希望她總是用一種綫——換來換去我實在記不住。不過，我發誓非揍希德一頓不可，我 要好好教訓教訓他。”
湯姆不是村裏的模範男孩，但他對那位模範男孩非常熟悉，並且很討厭他。
不到兩分鐘，甚至更短，他已將全部煩惱給忘記了。就像大人們的煩惱也是煩惱一樣， 他忘記煩惱並不是因為他的煩惱對他不怎麽沉重和難受，而是因為一種新的、更強烈的興趣 暫時壓倒並驅散了他心中的煩悶——就像大人們在新奇感受的興奮之時，也會暫時忘卻自己 的不幸一樣。這種新産生的興趣就是一種新的吹口哨方法，它很有價值，是剛從一個黑人那 學到的，現在他正要一心練習練習又不想被別人打擾。這聲音很特別，像小鳥的叫聲，一種 流暢而委婉的音調。在吹這個調子的時候，舌頭斷斷續續地抵住口腔的上齶——讀者若曾經 也是孩子的話，也許還記得該怎樣吹這種口哨。湯姆學得很勤奮，練得很專心，很快就掌握 了其中要領。於是他沿街大步流星地走着，口中吹着口哨，心裏樂滋滋的，那股樂勁如同天 文學家發現了新行星時一般，僅就樂的程度之深之強烈而言，此時的湯姆絶對比天文學家還 要興奮。
夏天的下午很長，這時天還沒有黑。湯姆的口哨聲忽然停住了，因為在他面前出現了一 個陌生人——一個比他大一點的男孩。
在聖彼德堡這個貧窮、破落的小村子裏，不管是男的還是女的，老的還是少的，衹要是 新來的，就能引起人們的好奇心。而且這個男孩穿得非常講究——在平常工作日竟穿戴如此 整齊，僅這就讓湯姆對他颳目相看。他的帽子很精緻，藍色的上衣扣得緊緊的，又新又整 潔，他的褲子也是一樣。他竟然還穿着鞋——要知道，今天可是星期五！他甚至還打了條領 帶，那是條顔色鮮亮的絲質領帶。他擺出一副城裏人的架勢，湯姆對此感到很不自在。湯姆 眼盯着他那套漂亮的衣服，鼻子翹得高高的。可是他越看越是覺得自己身上的衣服很寒酸破 舊。兩個人都一聲不吭。一個挪動一步，另一個也挪一步——可都是斜着步子兜圈子。他倆 面對面，眼對眼這樣相持了很長時間，最後還是湯姆先開了腔：
“我能打得過你！”
“我倒想見識見識。”
“那好，我就打給你看。”
“得了，你不行。”
“我行。”
“你就是不行。”
“我就是行。”
“不行！”
“行！”
“不行！”
兩個人都不自在地停了下來。接着湯姆問道：
“你叫什麽名字？”
“這也許你管不着！”
“哼，我就管得着！”
“好，那你就管管看。”
“要是你再囉嗦，我就管給你看。”
“囉嗦——囉嗦——偏要囉嗦，看你能怎麽樣？”
“哎，你認為你自己很了不起，是不是？如果我想你的話，一隻手背在後面都能打 過你。”
“好啊，你說你能打過我，那你為什麽不動手啊？”
“如果你老是嘴硬的話，我就打給你看。”
“嘿——你這種人我見得多了，盡吹大話下不了臺！”
“哈！你自以為是個人物呢！瞧，你那帽子！”
“你要是看不順眼你就把它摘下來呀，如果你敢碰，我就揍扁你！”
“你吹牛。”
“你也是吹牛。”
“你光是講大話，不敢動手。”
“噢，滾你的蛋吧！”
“告訴你——要是你再駡我的話，我就用石頭砸碎你的腦袋。”
“那好，你就來砸啊！”
“我肯定會的。”
“那你為什麽不來試試？你老是吹牛不敢動手，哦，我知道你害怕了。”
“我纔不怕呢！”
“你怕！”
“我不怕！”
“你就是怕！”
兩個人暫停了一會兒，接着又眼對眼，身子側身子兜着圈子走了幾步。忽然兩個人肩抵 着肩。湯姆說：
“你從這滾吧！”
“你自己滾吧！”
“我不滾。”
“我也不滾。”
於是他倆站在那兒，雙方都斜着一隻腳撐着勁，用盡力氣想把對手往後推，兩個人都憤 恨地瞪着對方。可是誰都沒占優勢。他們直鬥得渾身燥熱，滿臉通紅，然後兩人稍稍放鬆， 卻都小心謹慎地提防着對方。這時，湯姆又說：“你是個膽小鬼，是個狗崽子。我要嚮我大 哥哥告你的狀，他衹要動動小指頭就能把你捏碎，我會讓他揍你的。”
“我可不怕你什麽大哥哥，我有一個比你大哥還大的大哥哥——而且我大哥哥能把你的 大哥哥從那堵籬笆圍墻扔過去。”
（兩個人的所謂的大哥哥都是虛構的。）
“你撒謊。”
“你講的也不是真的。”
湯姆用大腳趾頭在地上的灰土上劃了一道綫，說：
“你若敢跨過這道綫，我就把你打趴在地上，讓你站不起來。誰敢，誰就得吃不了兜着 走。”
這個新來的男孩毫不猶豫地跨過那道綫，說：
“你說你敢打我，現在來看看你怎麽打法。”
“你不要逼我！你最好還是當心點。”
“哎，你不是說要打我嗎？——你為什麽不動手啊？”
“得了，你要是肯給我兩個分幣，我就動手。”
新來的男孩果真從衣服口袋裏掏出兩個分幣，嘲弄地攤開手掌。湯姆一把將錢打翻在 地。立刻兩個人像兩衹爭食的貓一樣，在地上的塵土裏滾打，撕扯起來，緊接着又是扯頭 發，又是揪衣領，拼命地捶打對方的鼻子，抓對方的臉。兩個人都弄得渾身是土，卻又都威 風凜凜。最後誰勝誰敗逐漸見了分曉，湯姆從塵土中爬起來，騎在那個男孩的身上，攥緊拳 頭使勁地打那個男孩。
“挨夠了嗎？求饒吧！”他說。
那個男孩衹想掙脫出來。他氣得嚎啕大哭。
湯姆還在不停地捶打，說：“求饒吧！”
那男孩衹好擠出幾個字：“饒了我！”
湯姆讓他站起來，對他說：
“現在你知道我的厲害了吧！以後最好給我小心點，看看在跟誰嘴硬。”
這位新來的男孩拍拍身上的塵土，哭哭啼啼地走開了。他不時地回過頭來，搖晃着腦 袋，嚇唬湯姆：
“下次要是抓住你，我就，我就……”
湯姆對此不屑一顧，趾高氣揚地走開了。他的背剛一轉過來，那男孩子就抓起一塊石頭 朝他砸過來，正打在湯姆的背上，接着就夾着尾巴，像羚羊似的飛快地跑掉了。湯姆窮追不 捨，直追到他傢。他就站在人傢大門口，嚷着叫那男孩出來較量，可是那個對手衹是在窗子 裏朝他擠鼻子弄眼，拒不迎戰。最後那對手的媽媽出來了，咒駡湯姆是個下流、沒有傢 教的壞孩子，喝斥他趕快滾開。於是湯姆就走了，不過，他臨走時說還要尋機再教訓教訓那 混小子一頓。
那天晚上，他回到傢時已經很遲了。當他小心翼翼地從窗戶往裏爬時，猛然間發現了有 人埋伏，仔細一看，原來是他的波莉姨媽。她看到他衣服被弄成那副樣子，原來就打算讓湯 姆在星期六休息日幹活的决心現在就更加堅定了。
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 (* Southwestern for "afternoon") I'll just be obleeged to make him work, to-morrow, 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, troublesome 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:
"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?"
Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new inspiration:
"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!"
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 a-swimming. 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 for once.
But Sidney said:
"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, but it's black."
"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!"
But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:
"Siddy, I'll lick you for that."
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 you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!"
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 bird-like 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 new-comer 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 week-day. This was simply astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned 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:
"I can lick you!"
"I'd like to see you try it."
"Well, I can do it."
"No you can't, either."
"Yes I can."
"No you can't."
"I can."
"You can't."
"Can!"
"Can't!"
An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:
"What's your name?"
"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe."
"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business."
"Well why don't you?"
"If you say much, I will."
"Much--much--MUCH. There now."
"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to."
"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it."
"Well I WILL, if you fool with me."
"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix."
"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!"
"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 suck eggs."
"You're a liar!"
"You're another."
"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up."
"Aw--take a walk!"
"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a rock off'n your head."
"Oh, of COURSE you will."
"Well I WILL."
"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for? Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid."
"I AIN'T afraid."
"You are."
"I ain't."
"You are."
Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:
"Get away from here!"
"Go away yourself!"
"I won't."
"I won't either."
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 flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:
"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 I'll make him do it, too."
"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 throw him over that fence, too." (Both brothers were imaginary.)
"That's a lie."
"YOUR saying so don't make it so."
Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
"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 sheep."
The new boy stepped over promptly, and said:
"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it."
"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out."
"Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?"
"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it."
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 boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage.
"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on.
At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up and said:
"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next time."
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 away. So he went away; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy.
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.