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.

    T O M
      S A W
         Y E R
 
  CHAPTER I

    "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."