51(y)(7)
用你喜欢的方式阅读你喜欢的小说
汤姆·索亚历险记 - Chapter 4
繁体
恢复默认
返回目录【键盘操作】左右光标键:上下章节;回车键:目录;双击鼠标:停止/启动自动滚动;滚动时上下光标键调节滚动速度。
  THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt polly had family worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of originality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter of the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai.Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get his verses." Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all his energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter. At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through the fog:"Blessed are the -- a -- a --""poor" --"Yes -- poor; blessed are the poor -- a -- a --""In spirit --""In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for they -- they --""Theirs --""For theirs. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they -- they --""Sh --""For they -- a --""S, H, A --""For they S, H -- Oh, I don't know what it is!""Shall!""Oh, shall! for they shall -- for they shall -- a -- a -- shall mourn -- a-- a -- blessed are they that shall -- they that -- a -- they that shall mourn, for they shall -- a -- shall what? Why don't you tell me, Mary? -- what do you want to be so mean for?""Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't do that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom, you'll manage it -- and if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice. There, now, that's a good boy.""All right! What is it, Mary, tell me what it is.""Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice.""You bet that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again."And he did "tackle it again" -- and under the double pressure of curiosity and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that he accomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new "Barlow" knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that swept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the knife would not cut anything, but it was a "sure-enough" Barlow, and there was inconceivable grandeur in that -- though where the Western boys ever got the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its injury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom contrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday-school.Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then he dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves; poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the door. But Mary removed the towel and said:"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurt you."Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time he stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a big breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes shut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony of suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered his hair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, and his own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of his clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two years -- they were simply called his "other clothes" -- and so by that we know the size of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed himself; she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned his vast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned him with his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for there was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought them out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do everything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively:"please, Tom -- that's a good boy."So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three children set out for Sunday-school -- a place that Tom hated with his whole heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it.Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then church service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon voluntarily, and the other always remained too -- for stronger reasons. The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort of pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade:"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?""Yes.""What'll you take for her?""What'll you give?""piece of lickrish and a fish-hook.""Less see 'em."Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm of clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a quarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave, elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy turned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's whole class were of a pattern -- restless, noisy, and troublesome. When they came to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried through, and each got his reward -- in small blue tickets, each with a passage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses of the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be exchanged for it; ten red tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible (worth forty cents in those easy times) to the pupil. How many of my readers would have the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, even for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way -- it was the patient work of two years -- and a boy of German parentage had won four or five. He once recited three thousand verses without stopping; but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great, and he was little better than an idiot from that day forth -- a grievous misfortune for the school, for on great occasions, before company, the superintendent (as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy come out and "spread himself." Only the older pupils managed to keep their tickets and stick to their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, and so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthy circumstance; the successful pupil was so great and conspicuous for that day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired with a fresh ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom's mental stomach had never really hungered for one of those prizes, but unquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the glory and the eclat that came with it.In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with a closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school superintendent makes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is as necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert -- though why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet of music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a slim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair; he wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached his ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his mouth -- a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning of the whole body when a side view was required; his chin was propped on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note, and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the fashion of the day, like sleigh-runners -- an effect patiently and laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes pressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest of mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacred things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly matters, that unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. He began after this fashion:"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There -- that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see one little girl who is looking out of the window -- I am afraid she thinks I am out there somewhere -- perhaps up in one of the trees making a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you how good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good." And so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the oration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar to us all.The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases of isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every sound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and the conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent gratitude.A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which was more or less rare -- the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, accompanied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-aged gentleman with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless the latter's wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless and full of chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too -- he could not meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But when he saw this small new-comer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in a moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might -- cuffing boys, pulling hair, making faces -- in a word, using every art that seemed likely to fascinate a girl and win her applause. His exaltation had but one alloy -- the memory of his humiliation in this angel's garden -- and that record in sand was fast washing out, under the waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now.The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage -- no less a one than the county judge -- altogether the most august creation these children had ever looked upon -- and they wondered what kind of material he was made of -- and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half afraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away -- so he had travelled, and seen the world -- these very eyes had looked upon the county court-house -- which was said to have a tin roof. The awe which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence and the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher, brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to be familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would have been music to his soul to hear the whisperings:"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say -- look! he's a going to shake hands with him -- he is shaking hands with him! By jings, don't you wish you was Jeff?"Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official bustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments, discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a target. The librarian "showed off" -- running hither and thither with his arms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that insect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off" -- bending sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, lifting pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good ones lovingly. The young gentlemen teachers "showed off" with small scoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention to discipline -- and most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business up at the library, by the pulpit; and it was business that frequently had to be done over again two or three times (with much seeming vexation). The little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys "showed off" with such diligence that the air was thick with paper wads and the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat and beamed a majestic judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himself in the sun of his own grandeur -- for he was "showing off," too.There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy complete, and that was a chance to deliver a Bible-prize and exhibit a prodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough -- he had been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given worlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind.And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward with nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten years. But there was no getting around it -- here were the certified checks, and they were good for their face.Tom was therefore elevated to a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was announced from headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of the decade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero up to the judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels to gaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy -- but those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too late that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass.The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the superintendent could pump up under the circumstances; but it lacked somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him that there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light, perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused two thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises -- a dozen would strain his capacity, without a doubt.Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in her face -- but he wouldn't look. She wondered; then she was just a grain troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went -- came again; she watched; a furtive glance told her worlds -- and then her heart broke, and she was jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom most of all (she thought).Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath would hardly come, his heart quaked -- partly because of the awful greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, and asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out:"Tom.""Oh, no, not Tom -- it is --""Thomas.""Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very well. But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won't you?""Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say sir. You mustn't forget your manners.""Thomas Sawyer -- sir.""That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. Two thousand verses is a great many -- very, very great many. And you never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; for knowledge is worth more than anything there is in the world; it's what makes great men and good men; you'll be a great man and a good man yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all owing to the precious Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood -- it's all owing to my dear teachers that taught me to learn -- it's all owing to the good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and gave me a beautiful Bible -- a splendid elegant Bible -- to keep and have it all for my own, always -- it's all owing to right bringing up! That is what you will say, Thomas -- and you wouldn't take any money for those two thousand verses -- no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind telling me and this lady some of the things you've learned -- no, I know you wouldn't -- for we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no doubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us the names of the first two that were appointed?"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 still hung fire."Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first two disciples were --""DAVID AND GOLIAH!"Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene.
或许您还会喜欢:
时间简史
作者:佚名
章节:31 人气:0
摘要:宇宙论是一门既古老又年轻的学科。作为宇宙里高等生物的人类不会满足于自身的生存和种族的绵延,还一代代不懈地探索着存在和生命的意义。但是,人类理念的进化是极其缓慢和艰苦的。从亚里士多德-托勒密的地心说到哥白尼-伽利略的日心说的演化就花了2000年的时间。令人吃惊的是,尽管人们知道世间的一切都在运动,只是到了本世纪20年代因哈勃发现了红移定律后,宇宙演化的观念才进入人类的意识。 [点击阅读]
昂梯菲尔奇遇记
作者:佚名
章节:32 人气:0
摘要:一位无名船长为搜寻一座无名小岛,正驾着无标名的航船,行驶在不知晓的海洋上。1831年9月9日,清晨6时许,船长离舱登上了尾船楼板。东方欲晓,准确地说,圆盘般的太阳正缓缓地探头欲出,但尚未冲出地平线。长长地发散铺开的光束爱抚地拍打着海面,在晨风的吹拂下,大海上荡起了轮轮涟漪。经过一个宁静的夜,迎来的白天将会是一个大好的艳阳天,这是末伏后的九月难得的天气。 [点击阅读]
星球大战4:新希望
作者:佚名
章节:15 人气:0
摘要:另外一个星系,另外一个时间。“古老的共和国”是传奇的共和国,它的广袤无垠和悠久永恒远非时间和距离所能衡量。不必追溯它的起源,也不必寻求它的方位……它就是宇宙这一方的独一无二的共和国。在参议院的英明治理和杰迪骑土们的保卫下,共和国一度十分兴旺发达。然而,事物的发展往往就是这样:当财富和权力从受人倾慕而膨胀到令人畏惧时,奸邪之徒就会应运而生。他们贪得无厌,渐荫觊觎之心。 [点击阅读]
星球大战5:帝国反击战
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:0
摘要:反军军官举起他的电子双筒望远镜,把焦距调准对着那些在雪中坚定地前进着的东西,看上去象一些来自过去的生物……但它们是战争机器,每一个都大踏步地走着,象四条腿的巨大的有蹄动物——帝国全地形装甲运输器!军官急忙抓起他的互通讯器。“流氓领机——回话!点零三!”“回波站五——七,我们正在路上。”就在卢克天行者回答时,一个爆炸把雪和冰溅散在军官和他惊恐的手下周围。 [点击阅读]
星球大战6:绝地归来
作者:佚名
章节:10 人气:0
摘要:对反军联盟来说,这是一段黑暗的时期……冻结在硝酸甘油中的汉-索洛,被送到了可恶的歹徒加巴手中。决心救他出来,卢克天行者、莱亚公主以及兰度-卡内森向加巴在塔托勒的堡垒发起了一次冒险的进攻。现在,在这部《星球大战》中最令人激动的一章里,反军指挥官把所有反军战斗舰召集起来,组成了一支庞大的舰队。而达斯-维达。 [点击阅读]
星球大战前传1:魅影危机
作者:佚名
章节:24 人气:0
摘要:塔土尼星球。蔚蓝无云的天空中,恒星闪烁,炫目的白色光芒照耀着这颗行星上广袤的荒原。因此生成的热气从平坦的“沙质地表蒸腾上升,在巨大的断崖和高耸苍凉的山巅之间形成了一片晶莹的氤氲。这是这颗行星上惟一典型的地貌特征。大块大块风化的巨岩如哨兵般屹立,在潮湿的雾霭中俯视着一切。当飞车赛手呼啸而过,引擎发出狂野的嘶吼,炽热的光和空气似乎都在颤动,群山也为之颤栗不止。 [点击阅读]
星球大战前传3:西斯的复仇
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:0
摘要:很久以前,在一个遥远的星系这个故事发生在很久以前的一个遥远星系。故事已经结束了,任何事都不能改变它。这是一个关于爱情与失去、友情与背叛、勇气与牺牲以及梦想破灭的故事,这是一个关于至善与至恶之间模糊界限的故事。这是一个关于一个时代终结的故事。关于这个故事,有一件很奇怪的事——它既发生在语言难以描述其长久与遥远的时间之前与距离之外,又发生在此刻,发生在这里。它就发生在你阅读这些文字的时候。 [点击阅读]
星际战争
作者:佚名
章节:28 人气:0
摘要:1938年10月30日晚,一个声音在美国大地回荡:“火星人来了!”顿时,成千上万的美国人真的以为火星人入侵地球了,纷纷弃家而逃,社会陷入一片混乱。原来是广播电台在朗读英国科幻小说大师H.G.威尔斯的作品《世界大战》。一本小书竟引起社会骚乱,这在世界小说史上是绝无仅有的。小说故事发生在大英帝国称霸世界、睥睨天下的19世纪末叶。火星人从天而降,在伦敦附近着陆,从而拉开了征服地球战争的序幕。 [点击阅读]
春潮
作者:佚名
章节:45 人气:0
摘要:欢快的岁月,幸福的时日——恰似春水悠悠,已经一去不留!——引自古老的抒情歌曲夜半一点多钟他回到自己的书房。打发走点燃灯烛的仆人,他便猛然坐到壁炉边的安乐椅里,用双手捂住了脸。他还从未感觉到这样疲乏——肉体的与精神的。 [点击阅读]
暗室
作者:佚名
章节:4 人气:0
摘要:三个漂流者蓝天上万里无云。在一望无际波浪不惊的大海上,只有小小的浪花在无休止地抖动着。头顶上初秋的太阳把光线撒向大海,使海面泛着银光。往周围望去,看不到陆地的一点踪影,四周只有宽阔无边的圆圆的水平线。天空是圆的,海也是圆的,仿佛整个世界除此之外什么都没有了似的。在这无边的大海中央,孤零零地漂着一个小得像罂粟籽般的东西。那是一只小船。船舵坏了,又没有一根船桨,盲无目的地任凭波浪将它摇来荡去。 [点击阅读]