Приключения Тома Сойера / The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
Шрифт:
Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed, now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters’ heart sank within him. He said to himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest question—why did the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak up and say:
“Answer the gentleman, Thomas—don’t be afraid.”
Tom was silent.
“Now I know you’ll tell me,” said the lady. “The names of the first two disciples were—”
“DAVID AND GOLIAH!” [16]
16
David and Goliah –
Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene.
Chapter V
About half-past ten the bell of the small church began to ring, and people began to gather for the morning sermon. The Sunday-school children distributed themselves around the room and occupied pews with their parents. Aunt Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her—Tom was sitting next to the aisle, as far away as from the open window and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd filed up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better days; the mayor and his wife; the widow Douglass, fair, smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, her hill mansion the only palace in the town; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyer Riverson, and so on. Last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful care of his mother as if she were made of glass. He always brought his mother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys all hated him, he was so good.
When the congregation was fully assembled, the bell rang once more, and then a solemn hush fell upon the church which was only broken by the whispering of the choir in the gallery. The choir always whispered all through service.
The minister read out the hymn, with a relish, in a peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country. His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached a certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost word and then plunged down as if from a spring-board:
Shall I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow’ry beds of ease,
Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro’ blood– y seas?
He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church “sociables” he was always called upon to read poetry; and when he was through, the ladies would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps, and shake their heads, as much as to say, “Words cannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortal earth.”
After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into a bulletin-board, and read off “notices” of meetings and societies and things.
And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went into details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself; for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the President; for the officers of the Government; and so on and so forth. Amen.
There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat down.
Tom did not enjoy the prayer, he only endured it—if he even did that much. In the midst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of him and tortured him by calmly rubbing its hands together, embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that it seemed to almost part company with the body; scraping its wings with its hind legs and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coat-tails. Tom’s hands itched to grab for it but he did not dare—he believed he would be instantly destroyed if he did such a thing while the prayer was going on. But with the closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward; and the instant the “Amen” was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt however saw it and made him let it go.
Tom was bored, so he took out a treasure he had on him at the moment. It was a large black beetle—a “pinchbug,” he called it. It was in a small box. The first thing the beetle did was to take him by the finger. A natural reaction followed, and the beetle went floundering into the aisle. A poodle dog came along. He spied the beetle; hesurveyed the prize; walked around it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again; then lifted his lip and tried to bite it. Eventually, the dogs’ chin descended and touched the enemy, who bit into it it. There was a sharp cry, a shake of the poodle’s head, and the beetle fell a couple of yards away.
The spectators shook with a gentle joy, several faces went behind fans and hand-kerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy.
He went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there was some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of variety in it.
Chapter VI
On Monday morning Tom Sawyer felt miserable. Monday mornings were always like that because they began another week’s suffering in school.
Tom lay thinking. He wished he was sick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague possibility. He thought about it, but didn’t find anything wrong. He investigated again. This time he thought he could detect colicky symptoms, but they soon grew feeble. He reflected further. Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth was loose. This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a “starter,” as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came into court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the present, and seek further.
Nothing felt off. Then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the sheet and looked at it. He did not know the necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth a try, so he started groaning.
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