CHAPTER I

“Tom!”rnrnNo answer.rnrn“TOM!”rnrnNo answer.rnrn“What’s gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!”rnrnNo answer.rnrnThe old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about thernroom; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom orrnnever looked _through_ them for so small a thing as a boy; they werernher state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for “style,” notrnservice—she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well.rnShe looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, butrnstill loud enough for the furniture to hear:rnrn“Well, I lay if I get hold of you I’ll—”rnrnShe did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punchingrnunder the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate thernpunches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat.rnrn“I never did see the beat of that boy!”rnrnShe went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among therntomato vines and “jimpson” weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. Sornshe lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted:rnrn“Y-o-u-u TOM!”rnrnThere was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to seizerna small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight.rnrn“There! I might ’a’ thought of that closet. What you been doing inrnthere?”rnrn“Nothing.”rnrn“Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What _is_ thatrntruck?”rnrn“I don’t know, aunt.”rnrn“Well, I know. It’s jam—that’s what it is. Forty times I’ve said if yourndidn’t let that jam alone I’d skin you. Hand me that switch.”rnrnThe switch hovered in the air—the peril was desperate—rnrn“My! Look behind you, aunt!”rnrnThe old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger.rnThe lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, andrndisappeared over it.rnrnHis aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentlernlaugh.rnrn“Hang the boy, can’t I never learn anything? Ain’t he played me tricksrnenough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But oldrnfools is the biggest fools there is. Can’t learn an old dog new tricks,rnas the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days,rnand how is a body to know what’s coming? He ’pears to know just how longrnhe can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he can makernout to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it’s all down again andrnI can’t hit him a lick. I ain’t doing my duty by that boy, and that’srnthe Lord’s truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile the child, asrnthe Good Book says. I’m a laying up sin and suffering for us both, Irnknow. He’s full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he’s my own deadrnsister’s boy, poor thing, and I ain’t got the heart to lash him,rnsomehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, andrnevery time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, man that isrnborn of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the Scripture says,rnand I reckon it’s so. He’ll play hookey this evening,[*] and I’ll justrnbe obleeged to make him work, tomorrow, to punish him. It’s mighty hardrnto make him work Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but hernhates work more than he hates anything else, and I’ve _got_ to do somernof my duty by him, or I’ll be the ruination of the child.”rnrn[*] Southwestern for “afternoon”rnrnTom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back homernbarely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day’s woodrnand split the kindlings before supper—at least he was there in timernto tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the work.rnTom’s younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already throughrnwith his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a quiet boy,rnand had no adventurous, trouble-some ways.rnrnWhile Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunityrnoffered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, andrnvery deep—for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Likernmany other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe shernwas endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and shernloved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of lowrncunning. Said she:rnrn“Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn’t it?”rnrn“Yes’m.”rnrn“Powerful warm, warn’t it?”rnrn“Yes’m.”rnrn“Didn’t you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?”rnrnA bit of a scare shot through Tom—a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. Hernsearched Aunt Polly’s face, but it told him nothing. So he said:rnrn“No’m—well, not very much.”rnrnThe old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom’s shirt, and said:rnrn“But you ain’t too warm now, though.” And it flattered her to reflectrnthat she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowingrnthat that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knewrnwhere the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:rnrn“Some of us pumped on our heads—mine’s damp yet. See?”rnrnAunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit ofrncircumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a newrninspiration:rnrn“Tom, you didn’t have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, tornpump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!”rnrnThe trouble vanished out of Tom’s face. He opened his jacket. His shirtrncollar was securely sewed.rnrn“Bother! Well, go ’long with you. I’d made sure you’d played hookeyrnand been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you’re a kind of arnsinged cat, as the saying is—better’n you look. _This_ time.”rnrnShe was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tomrnhad stumbled into obedient conduct for once.rnrnBut Sidney said:rnrn“Well, now, if I didn’t think you sewed his collar with white thread,rnbut it’s black.”rnrn“Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!”rnrnBut Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:rnrn“Siddy, I’ll lick you for that.”rnrnIn a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust intornthe lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them—one needlerncarried white thread and the other black. He said:rnrn“She’d never noticed if it hadn’t been for Sid. Confound it! sometimesrnshe sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish torngee-miny she’d stick to one or t’other—I can’t keep the run of ’em. ButrnI bet you I’ll lam Sid for that. I’ll learn him!”rnrnHe was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very wellrnthough—and loathed him.rnrnWithin two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. Notrnbecause his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him than arnman’s are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest borernthem down and drove them out of his mind for the time—just as men’srnmisfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This newrninterest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquiredrnfrom a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. Itrnconsisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble,rnproduced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at shortrnintervals in the midst of the music—the reader probably remembers how torndo it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave himrnthe knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full ofrnharmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomerrnfeels who has discovered a new planet—no doubt, as far as strong, deep,rnunalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not thernastronomer.rnrnThe summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tomrnchecked his whistle. A stranger was before him—a boy a shade largerrnthan himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressiverncuriosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boyrnwas well dressed, too—well dressed on a week-day. This was simplyrnastounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue clothrnroundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoesrnon—and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit ofrnribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom’s vitals. Thernmore Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his nosernat his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed tornhim to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved—but onlyrnsidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all therntime. Finally Tom said:rnrn“I can lick you!”rnrn“I’d like to see you try it.”rnrn“Well, I can do it.”rnrn“No you can’t, either.”rnrn“Yes I can.”rnrn“No you can’t.”rnrn“I can.”rnrn“You can’t.”rnrn“Can!”rnrn“Can’t!”rnrnAn uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:rnrn“What’s your name?”rnrn“’Tisn’t any of your business, maybe.”rnrn“Well I ’low I’ll _make_ it my business.”rnrn“Well why don’t you?”rnrn“If you say much, I will.”rnrn“Much—much—_much_. There now.”rnrn“Oh, you think you’re mighty smart, _don’t_ you? I could lick you withrnone hand tied behind me, if I wanted to.”rnrn“Well why don’t you _do_ it? You _say_ you can do it.”rnrn“Well I _will_, if you fool with me.”rnrn“Oh yes—I’ve seen whole families in the same fix.”rnrn“Smarty! You think you’re _some_, now, _don’t_ you? Oh, what a hat!”rnrn“You can lump that hat if you don’t like it. I dare you to knock itrnoff—and anybody that’ll take a dare will suck eggs.”rnrn“You’re a liar!”rnrn“You’re another.”rnrn“You’re a fighting liar and dasn’t take it up.”rnrn“Aw—take a walk!”rnrn“Say—if you give me much more of your sass I’ll take and bounce a rockrnoff’n your head.”rnrn“Oh, of _course_ you will.”rnrn“Well I _will_.”rnrn“Well why don’t you _do_ it then? What do you keep _saying_ you willrnfor? Why don’t you _do_ it? It’s because you’re afraid.”rnrn“I _ain’t_ afraid.”rnrn“You are.”rnrn“I ain’t.”rnrn“You are.”rnrnAnother pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presentlyrnthey were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:rnrn“Get away from here!”rnrn“Go away yourself!”rnrn“I won’t.”rnrn“I won’t either.”rnrnSo they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and bothrnshoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with hate. Butrnneither could get an advantage. After struggling till both were hot andrnflushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:rnrn“You’re a coward and a pup. I’ll tell my big brother on you, and he canrnthrash you with his little finger, and I’ll make him do it, too.”rnrn“What do I care for your big brother? I’ve got a brother that’s biggerrnthan he is—and what’s more, he can throw him over that fence, too.” [Both brothers were imaginary.]rnrn“That’s a lie.”rnrn“_Your_ saying so don’t make it so.”rnrnTom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:rnrn“I dare you to step over that, and I’ll lick you till you can’t standrnup. Anybody that’ll take a dare will steal sheep.”rnrnThe new boy stepped over promptly, and said:rnrn“Now you said you’d do it, now let’s see you do it.”rnrn“Don’t you crowd me now; you better look out.”rnrn“Well, you _said_ you’d do it—why don’t you do it?”rnrn“By jingo! for two cents I _will_ do it.”rnrnThe new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them outrnwith derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boysrnwere rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; andrnfor the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other’s hair andrnclothes, punched and scratched each other’s nose, and covered themselvesrnwith dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and through thernfog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and pounding himrnwith his fists. “Holler ’nuff!” said he.rnrnThe boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying—mainly from rage.rnrn“Holler ’nuff!”—and the pounding went on.rnrnAt last the stranger got out a smothered “’Nuff!” and Tom let him up andrnsaid:rnrn“Now that’ll learn you. Better look out who you’re fooling with nextrntime.”rnrnThe new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing,rnsnuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head andrnthreatening 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, andrnas soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw itrnand hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran likernan antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where hernlived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring thernenemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through thernwindow and declined. At last the enemy’s mother appeared, and called Tomrna bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went away; butrnhe said he “’lowed” to “lay” for that boy.rnrnHe got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously inrnat the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; andrnwhen she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn hisrnSaturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in itsrnfirmness.