“On November 30, 1835, in the USA, in the village of Florida in Missouri, a child was born, who was named Samuel Langhorne Clemens. This year will be remembered by the inhabitants of the Earth for a majestic cosmic spectacle - the appearance in the sky of Comet Halley, approaching our planet once every 75 years. Soon, Sam Clemens' family moved to the town of Hannibal in Missouri in search of a better life. The head of the family died when his youngest son was not even twelve years old, leaving nothing but debts, and Sam had to earn his living in the newspaper that his older brother began publishing. The teenager worked tirelessly - first as a typesetter and printer, and soon as an author of funny and caustic notes ... "

The more Tom tried to concentrate on his studies, the more confusion reigned in his head. Finally he sighed, yawned and closed the book. The big change must never begin. The air in the classroom was completely still. The muttering of twenty-five diligently cramming students evoked drowsiness, like the buzzing of bees. And outside the window, in the blinding sunshine, through the air trembling from the heat, turning blue in the distance, the green slopes of Cardiff Mountain curled; two or three birds, lazily spreading their wings, soared in the high sky; there was not a soul on the street except a couple of cows, and even those were dozing, leaning against the fences.

Tom's soul was yearning to be free - for something that would help pass these unbearably tedious hours. His hand slid into his pocket, and suddenly the boy’s face lit up with a grateful, almost prayerful smile. With great care, he brought out the box from under the caps, opened it and released the tick onto the long lid of the desk. The tick, one must think, also beamed with a grateful, almost prayerful smile, but prematurely: as soon as he took off running, Tom blocked his path with a pin and forced him to turn sharply.

Tom's bosom friend Joe Harper, who sat nearby, suffering as desperately as Tom had just suffered, immediately took a keen interest in the entertainment and readily took part in it. Joe took another pin from the lapel of his jacket and began to drill the prisoner on his side. The game became more and more interesting with every minute, and soon it seemed to Tom that the two of them were only pushing and getting in each other’s way and neither of them was getting full pleasure from the tick. Taking Joe Harper's slate, he placed it on his desk and divided it in half, drawing a straight line from top to bottom.

End of introductory fragment.

Passing by the house where Jeff Thacher lived, he saw some new girl in the garden - a lovely blue-eyed creature with golden hair braided in two long braids, wearing a white summer dress and embroidered pantaloons. The hero, just crowned with glory, was killed without firing a shot. A certain Emmy Lawrence immediately disappeared from his heart, without leaving even a trace there. And he imagined that he loved Emmy Lawrence madly, adored her! It turns out that it was just a passing hobby, nothing more. For several months he sought her love. Just a week ago she admitted that she loved him. During these seven short days, he proudly considered himself the happiest boy in the world, and then in an instant she left his heart, like a random guest who came for a minute on a visit.

With pious delight he looked furtively at this new angel, until he was sure that the angel had noticed him. Then he pretended that he was unaware of the girl’s presence and began to “act” in front of her, doing (as is customary among boys) various ridiculous things to arouse her admiration. For some time he performed all these intricate and nonsensical tricks. Suddenly, in the middle of some dangerous acrobatic stunt, he looked in that direction and saw that the girl had turned her back to him and was heading towards the house. Tom came closer and sadly leaned his elbows on the fence; he really wanted her to stay in the garden a little longer... She actually lingered a little on the steps, but then stepped straight to the door. Tom sighed heavily when her foot touched the threshold, and suddenly his whole face lit up: before disappearing behind the door, the girl looked back and

threw a daisy flower over the fence.

Tom ran around the flower, and then, two steps away from it, he put his palm to his eyes and began to peer intently at the far end of the street, as if something interesting was happening there. Then he picked up a straw from the ground and placed it on his nose, trying to keep it balanced by throwing his head far back. Balancing, he came closer and closer to the flower; Finally he stepped on it with his bare foot, grabbed it with his flexible fingers, jumped on one leg and soon disappeared around the corner, taking his treasure with him.

But he disappeared only for a minute while he unbuttoned his jacket and hid the flower on his chest, closer to his heart or, perhaps, to his stomach, since he was not particularly strong in anatomy and did not understand much about such things.

Then he returned and hung around the fence until the evening, still doing various things. The girl didn't show up; but Tom consoled himself with the hope that she was standing somewhere at the window and seeing how zealous he was for her sake. In the end he reluctantly trudged home, his poor head full of fantastic dreams.

At dinner he was so excited all the time that his aunt wondered: what happened to the child? Having received a good scolding for throwing lumps of earth at Sid, Tom, apparently, was not upset at all.

He tried to steal a piece of sugar from under his aunt’s nose and received a slap on the wrist for it, but again he was not offended and only said:

Auntie, you don’t hit Sid when he’s carrying sugar!

Sid doesn't torture people like you. If you weren't watched, you wouldn't get out of the sugar bowl.

But then the aunt went into the kitchen, and Sid, happy with his impunity, immediately reached for the sugar bowl, as if mocking Tom. It was downright unbearable! But the sugar bowl slipped from Sid’s fingers, fell to the floor and broke. Tom was delighted, so delighted that he held his tongue and did not even cry out for joy. He decided not to say a word, even when his aunt came in, but to sit quietly and quietly until she asked who did it. Then he will tell everything, and it will be fun for him to watch how she deals with her exemplary favorite. What could be nicer than this! He was so filled with gloating that he could hardly remain silent when his aunt returned and stood over the fragments of the sugar bowl, a sword of lightning of anger over her glasses. Tom said to himself: “Here it is, it’s beginning!” But the next minute he was already lying on the floor! The domineering hand rose above him to strike him again as he cried out in tears.

When Tom, having already undressed, was examining his soaked clothes in the light of a tallow candle, Sid woke up; but if he had any desire to reproach and hint, he changed his mind and remained silent, noticing in Tom’s eyes that it was unsafe.

Tom went to bed, not considering it necessary to burden himself with prayer, and Sid mentally noted this omission.

Chapter IV

The sun rose over the serene land and shone down on the peaceful town from above, as if blessing it. After breakfast, Aunt Polly gathered everyone for family worship; it began with a prayer built on a solid foundation of biblical quotations, held together with the thin cement of its own additions; from this peak, as from Mount Sinai, she proclaimed the harsh chapter of the Law of Moses.

After this, Tom, as they say, girded his loins and began to memorize verses from the Bible. Sid learned his lesson a few days ago. Tom made every effort to memorize five verses, choosing them from the Sermon on the Mount, because he could not find shorter verses anywhere.

After half an hour, Tom had a rather vague idea of ​​​​the lesson, because his head was busy with everything except the lesson, and his hands were constantly moving, having fun with some extraneous activity.

Mary took the book from him to listen to the lesson, and Tom began to stumble, somehow making his way through the fog:

- Blessed... uh...

- Beggars...

- Yes, beggars; blessed are the poor... uh...

- In spirit...

– Spirit; Blessed are the poor in spirit, for their... for they...

- Because their...

– For theirs... Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they... for they...

- Because they... uh...

- Oh, Tom, you such a fool, I’m not teasing you at all, and I’m not even thinking about it. You just need to learn everything properly first. It’s okay, Tom, you’ll learn it somehow, and when you learn it, I’ll give you one very good thing. Well, be smart!

- OK! And what thing, Mary, just tell me?

– Do you care? Since I said that it’s good, it means it’s good.

- Well, you won’t deceive me. Okay, I'll go get some exercise.

Tom worked hard - and under the double pressure of curiosity and the upcoming reward, he worked hard with such enthusiasm that he achieved brilliant success. For this, Mary gave him a brand new penknife with two blades worth twelve and a half cents; and the delight that washed over Tom shook him to the core. True, the knife did not cut at all, but it was not some kind of fake, but a real Barlow knife, which was its incomprehensible charm; although where the boys of the Western States got the idea that this formidable weapon could be counterfeited, and that the counterfeit would be worse than the original, is completely unknown and, one assumes, will forever remain a mystery. Tom managed to cut the sideboard with this knife and was already getting close to the chest of drawers when he was called to get dressed for Sunday school.

Mary gave him a tin basin full of water and a bar of soap; he went out the door and put the basin on the bench, then dipped the soap in water and put it back in place; He rolled up his sleeves, carefully poured the water onto the ground, then entered the kitchen and began diligently rubbing his face with a towel hanging outside the door. But Mary took the towel from him, saying:

– Shame on you, Tom. Wash yourself properly. Water won't do anything to you.

Tom was a little embarrassed. Water was poured into the basin again; and this time he stood over it for a while, gathering his courage, then he took a deep breath and began to wash himself. When Tom then entered the kitchen, closing his eyes and groping for a towel, soap suds flowed down his cheeks, honestly testifying to the labor he had endured. However, when he took the towel away from his face, it turned out that his appearance was not entirely satisfactory: only his cheeks and chin were clean, which turned white like a mask, and below and above a dark strip of unirrigated soil began, which covered his neck both in front and behind. Then Mary took hold of him herself, and, coming out of her hands, he was no longer any different in skin color from his pale-faced brothers; The wet hair was neatly smoothed with a brush, its short curls lay smooth and beautiful. (Tom slowly tried to straighten his curls, putting in a lot of work and effort so that they lay on his head as if glued; it seemed to him that with curls he looked like a girl, and this upset him very much.) Then Mary took out a suit from the closet, which was already For two years, Tom wore only on Sundays and which was called “another suit,” based on which we can judge the richness of his wardrobe. After he had dressed himself, Mary put him in order: she buttoned his clean jacket up to his chin, turned down his wide collar and straightened it over his shoulders, brushed Tom with a brush and put on his speckled straw hat. Now he looked very smart and felt very awkward: the new suit and cleanliness embarrassed him, which he could not stand. He hoped that Mary would forget about the shoes, but this hope did not come true: Mary, as expected, greased them well with lard and brought them to him. Tom grew impatient and grumbled that he was always being forced to do things he didn’t want to do. But Mary gently persuaded him:

- Please, Tom, be smart.

And Tom, grumbling, put on his shoes. Mary got dressed in a minute, and the three of them went to Sunday school, which Tom hated with all his heart, but Sid and Mary loved.

Sunday school was from nine to half past ten, and then the sermon began. Two of the children stayed for the preaching voluntarily, and the third also stayed - for other, more significant reasons.

In the book about the adventures of Tom Sawyer, the writer with great skill depicted the life of an American provincial town in the 40s of the 19th century. With a tense plot and brilliant humor, this book is beloved by readers around the world.

A series: Adventures of Tom Sawyer

* * *

The given introductory fragment of the book The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (Mark Twain, 1876) provided by our book partner - the company liters.

Chapter Seven

The more Tom tried to concentrate on the lesson, the more confused his thoughts became. Finally Tom sighed, yawned and stopped reading. It seemed to him that the big change would never begin. The air was completely still. There was not the slightest breeze. Of all the boring days, this was the most boring. The soporific muttering of twenty-five diligently cramming students induced drowsiness, like the buzzing of bees. There, outside the window, in the hot glare of the sun, through the air flowing from the heat, slightly purple in the distance, the curly slopes of Cardiff Mountain loomed green; two or three birds, wings spread, lazily soared high in the sky; Not a single living soul was visible on the street, except for a few cows, and even those were dozing. Tom's soul was eager to be free, eager for something that would revive him, help pass these boring hours. His hand reached into his pocket, and his face lit up with a joyful, almost prayerful smile. Slowly he brought out the box from under the caps, took the tick and released it onto a long flat desk. The tick must have also beamed with a joyful, almost prayerful smile, but it was premature: as soon as he, filled with gratitude, took off running, Tom blocked his path with a pin and forced him to turn aside.

Tom's bosom friend sat next to him, suffering just as Tom had suffered recently, and now he took a keen interest in the entertainment and gratefully took part in it. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. Usually the boys were friends all week, and on Sunday they went to war with each other. Joe took a pin from his jacket lapel and also helped drill the prisoner. The game became more and more interesting every minute! Soon it seemed to Tom that the two of them were only interfering with each other and that neither one nor the other really enjoyed the tick. He placed Joe Harper's slate on the desk and divided it in half, drawing a line from top to bottom.

“Here,” he said, “as long as the tick is on your side, you can push it with a pin, I won’t touch it; and if you let him go and he runs over to my side, then don’t touch him, then I’ll chase him.

- Okay, go ahead; release the tick.

The tick very soon left Tom and crossed the equator. Joe tormented him a little, and then the tick escaped from him and crossed the border again. He kept running from place to place. While one of the boys was enthusiastically chasing a tick, completely absorbed in this activity, the other was watching with the same enthusiasm - both heads bent over the board, both souls died for everything else in the world. In the end, happiness seemed to fall upon Joe Harper. The tick rushed here and there and, apparently, was excited and alarmed no less than the boys themselves. Victory was about to go to Tom; his hands were itching to push the tick, but then Joe Harper deftly pointed the tick in the other direction with a pin, and the tick remained in his possession. In the end Tom couldn't bear it anymore. The temptation was too strong. He reached out and nudged the tick with a pin. Joe immediately lost his temper. He said:

- Tom, leave the tick alone.

“I just wanted to stir him up a little.”

- No, sir, it's not fair; leave him alone.

- Yes, I’m only a little bit.

– Leave the tick alone, they tell you!

- I won’t leave you!

– I’ll have to leave it – he’s on my side!

“Listen, Joe Harper, whose tick is this?”

– I don’t care who it is! On my side, then don’t you dare touch.

- But I will still be there. My mite, I do whatever I want with it, that’s all.

A terrible blow fell on Tom's shoulders, and a second, exactly the same blow fell on Joe's shoulders; For two minutes in a row, dust flew in all directions from their jackets, and all the schoolchildren had fun looking at them. The boys were so engrossed in the game that they did not notice how the whole class fell silent when the teacher, tiptoeing across the room, stopped near them. He looked at the performance for quite some time before introducing some variety into it.

When the schoolchildren were released for the big break, Tom ran up to Becky Thatcher and whispered to her:

“Put on your hat as if you were going home, and when you reach the corner, somehow get behind the other girls, turn into an alley and come back.” And I’ll go the other way and do the same thing, keep them away from my people.

So they did - he went with one group of schoolchildren, she with the other. A few minutes later, both met at the end of the alley and returned to the school, where there was no one left except them. The two of them sat down at one desk, put a slate board in front of them, Tom gave Becky the slate and began to move her hand along the board, showing her how to draw, and in this way he built another wonderful house. Then the interest in art waned somewhat, and they started talking. Tom floated in bliss. He asked Becky:

– Do you like rats?

- No, I can’t stand them.

- Well, yes, I’m alive too. And I'm talking about dead ones - to twirl around your head on a string.

– No, I don’t really like rats at all. I prefer to chew gum.

- Well, of course, me too. It would be nice to chew now.

- Want to? I have some. I'll give you something to chew, but you can give it back later.

Tom agreed, and they began to chew gum in turns, swinging their legs from excess pleasure.

– Have you ever been to the circus? – Tom asked.

- Yes, and dad said that he would take me if I studied well.

– And I’ve been there so many times, three or even four times. The church is rubbish compared to the circus. At the circus they are always performing something. When I grow up, I will become a clown.

- Yes? That will be good! They are very beautiful, all colorful.

- This is true. And they rake in a ton of money. Ben Rogers says it's like a whole dollar a day. Look, Becky, were you ever engaged?

- What does it mean?

- Well, of course, we are engaged to get married.

- No never.

- Would you like to?

- Perhaps. I really don't know. What does it look like?

-What does it look like? It doesn't look like anything. You just tell the boy that you will never, ever marry anyone else, then you kiss, that's all. Anyone can do this.

- Do you kiss? Why kiss?

- Well, you know, this is for... just because everyone does it.

- Well, of course, everyone who is in love with each other. Do you remember what I wrote on the board?

- Well?

- I will not say.

- Maybe I should tell you?

- Y-yes, just some other time.

- No, I want it now.

- No, not now, better tomorrow.

- No, it's better now. Well, what do you need, Becky, I’m whispering, very quietly.

Since Becky hesitated, Tom took silence for consent, put his arm around her shoulders and very gently whispered to her:

“I love you,” placing his lips very close to her ear; then he added: “And now you whisper the same thing to me.”

She refused for a while, then said:

“You turn away so you can’t see, then I’ll whisper.” Just don't tell anyone. Would you mind telling me, Tom? No one in the world, okay?

- No, I will never tell anyone. Come on, Becky!

He turned away. She leaned in so close that her breath made Tom’s hair move, and whispered: “I—you—love!”

And, jumping up from her seat, she began to run around the desks and benches, and Tom followed her; then she hid in a corner, covering her face with a white apron. Tom, putting his arm around Becky's neck, began to persuade her:

“Well, Becky, that’s all, now just kiss.” And you have no reason to be afraid - it’s quite simple. Well, please, Becky! - And he pulled her by the apron and by the hands.

Little by little she gave up, dropped her hands and submissively offered Tom her face, all flushed from running around. Tom kissed her right on the red lips and said:

- Well, that's all, Becky. After this, you know, you should no longer love anyone but me, and you should also not marry anyone but me. Now this is forever, forever and ever. Fine?

End of introductory fragment.

Chapter 7

The harder Tom tried to concentrate on his textbook, the more his thoughts wandered, until finally he yawned, sighed, and threw the book down. It seemed to him that noon would never come. The still air seemed to freeze. At least something would move. It was the sleepiest of all sleepy days. The soporific murmur of twenty-five schoolchildren lulled souls like a spell hidden in the hum of bees. In the distance, Cardizh Gill, bathed in waves of light, raised its green peak in the shimmering haze of the summer haze, tinged with purple; several birds glided high on tired wings; no other living creatures were visible except the goats, and even those were sleeping.

Tom's heart yearned for freedom or at least some entertainment that would help him pass this boring time. By chance he put his hand in his pocket, and his face lit up with gratitude equal to prayer, although he did not know it. He slowly pulled out the piston box and released the tick onto the table. This tiny creature was probably also filled with prayerful gratitude at that moment, which, however, turned out to be premature, since as soon as it crawled in one direction, Tom turned it with a pin in the other.

Next to Tom sat his bosom friend, also languishing with melancholy and just as deeply and gratefully delighted by the entertainment. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. They were friends all week, and on Sundays they became the heads of hostile armies. Joe took a pin from his jacket cuff and took part in the fuss with the prisoner. The fun became more interesting every minute. Tom soon found that they got in each other's way, so that neither of them used the plier to their heart's content. So he took Joe's slate and drew a line down the middle of it, from top to bottom.

“Here,” he said, “while the tick is on your side, you can chase it as much as you want, and I won’t touch it; and if he runs into my half, you must leave him alone until I let him go over the line.

- Okay, start.

The tick soon escaped from Tom and crawled across the equator. Joe teased him until he snuck back out. The field of action thus changed quite often. While one boy was fiddling with the tick with exciting enthusiasm, the other was watching the fuss with no less interest, both heads bent over the board; they forgot about everything in the world. Finally, luck seemed to be on Joe's side. The tick tried this way and that, changed direction, worried and excited no less than the boys themselves, but every time victory was already, so to speak, in his hands, and Tom’s fingers began to move, Joe’s pin quickly blocked his path and guided him back. Tom finally couldn't bear it anymore. The temptation was too great. He held out the pin and helped the tick. Joe immediately became furious.

- Tom, leave him alone!

“I’m just giving him a little push, Joe.”

- No, sir, it's not fair. Leave him now.

“It’s nothing, I’ll just move it a little.”

“Leave him,” they tell you.

- Don't want.

“You have to,” he’s on my side.

- Listen, Joe Harper, whose tick is this?

“I don’t care whose tick it is, it’s on my side and you won’t touch it.”

- But I’ll be there. The tick is mine, and I will do what I want with it!

A huge blow fell on Tom's back, the same on Joe's back, and within two minutes dust flew from both jackets, to the delight of the whole school. The boys were so carried away that they did not notice the sudden silence when the teacher crept up to them on tiptoe and stood over them. He looked at the performance for quite a long time, and then, for his part, introduced some variety into it.

When the midday break came, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher and whispered in her ear:

“Put on your hat and pretend you’re going home, and when you turn the corner, leave the others behind and go back down the alley.” I'll go the other way, overtake them and return the same way.

She went with one group of students, he with another. A little later they met at the end of the alley, and when they returned to the school, there was not a soul in it. They sat down, placing the slate board in front of them. Tom gave Becky a pencil and guided her hand - and thus they erected another amazing house. When the passion for art began to cool down, they began to talk. Tom was drowning in bliss. He asked:

– Do you like rats?

- Hate.

- Well, yes, alive - me too. But I'm talking about dead ones that you can tie to a string and wave around your head.

- No, I don’t like rats at all. Chewing rubber is what I love.

- Oh, me too. It's a shame I don't have a piece!

- Want to? I have some. I'll let you chew, but then you give it to me.

It was very pleasant, and they took turns chewing, swinging their legs with excess pleasure.

– Have you ever been to the circus? – Tom asked.

- Yes, and dad promised to take me out again if I’m smart.

– I’ve been to the circus three or four times – a lot of times. The church is worth nothing compared to the circus. In the circus they perform different things all the time. When I'm big, I'll become a clown.

- Oh, really? It will be very nice. They are so colorful.

- Yes. And besides, they rake in a ton of money. Ben Rogers said a dollar a day. Listen, Becky, have you ever gotten engaged?

- What it is?

- Well, engaged to get married.

- Want to?

- Perhaps. Don't know. What does it look like?

- For what? It doesn't look like anything. You just tell the boy that you will always, always, always be his, and then you kiss him, and that's it. Anyone can do this.

- Shall we kiss? Why kiss?

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, you know—they always do it that way.”

- Well, yes, everyone who is in love with each other. Do you remember what I wrote on the board?

- What?

- I will not say.

- Do you want me to tell you?

– Y-yes – just another time.

- No, now.

- No, not now, - tomorrow.

“Oh, no, now please, Becky.” I'll tell you in your ear, quietly, quietly.

Becky hesitated, Tom took her silence as a sign of consent and, wrapping his arm around her waist, gently whispered the cherished words in her ear. Then he added:

“Now you whisper the same thing to me.”

At first she refused, then she said:

- Just turn your face away so you don’t see, then I’ll tell you. But you don't have to tell anyone - do you promise, Tom? Don't tell anyone, promise?

- No one, honestly, honestly. Well, Becky.

He turned his face away. She timidly leaned towards him, so close that her breath moved his curls, and whispered:

- I love you.

Then she jumped up from the bench and ran from Tom around the tables and benches until she hid in a corner, covering her face with her white apron. Tom put his hands around her neck and began to persuade her.

- Now, Becky, everything is done - all that remains is to kiss. Don't be afraid - it's nothing. Please, Becky.

He began to take his hands and apron away from her face.

Little by little she gave in and dropped her hands; her little face, flushed from the struggle, looked out and submitted. Tom kissed her scarlet lips and said:

- That's it now, Becky. But you know, after this you must never love anyone else or marry anyone else—never, never, forever. Fine?

“Yes, I will never love anyone but you, Tom, and I will never marry anyone else, and you will never marry anyone but me either, will you?”

- Certainly. Of course. That goes without saying. And when we go to school or home, you should always go with me, if they don’t spy on us - but in games you choose me, and I will choose you; That's what people who get engaged always do.

- Oh, how nice! And I didn’t even know about it.

- How nice it is. Amy Lawrence and I...

Big eyes told Tom about his mistake, he hesitated and was embarrassed.

- About! So I'm not the first one you got engaged to?

The girl cried, Tom said:

- Oh, Becky, don't cry. I don't want to know her anymore.

“It’s not true, Tom, you yourself know it’s not true.”

Tom tried to hug her, but she pushed him away, turned her face to the wall and continued to cry. Tom tried again, saying various kind words, and again received a rebuff. Then his pride woke up, he walked away and left the room. He stood outside, upset and worried, looking through the door from time to time, hoping that she would repent and come to him. But she didn't move. Then he became completely sad and began to feel like he was wrong. A fierce struggle took place within him, but he overcame his ambition and entered the room. Becky was still standing in the corner, facing the wall, sobbing. Tom's heart sank. He walked up to her and stood there for a minute, not knowing how to get down to business. Then he said hesitantly:

“Becky, I... I don’t love anyone but you.”

No answer - just sobs.

– Becky (in a pleading tone).

- Becky, say a word.

The sobs intensified.

Tom took his best jewel from his pocket, a brass knob from the fireplace grate, stuck it out so that she could see it, and said:

- Please, Becky, take it for yourself.

She threw it on the floor. Then Tom left the room and walked wherever he looked, deciding not to return to school today. Becky guessed what was going on. She ran to the door; he was not visible; ran out to the recreational yard: he wasn’t there either. Then she called:

- Volume! Come back, Tom!