Sunday, January 18, 2015

Tom Sawyer; Chapter 2 - The Fence is Whitewashed

Hi guys!
Today, I would like to post the 2nd chapter of "The Adventure of Tom Sawyer"
Happy reading!

Note: If you haven't read the 1st chapter, it's recommended that you go there first for it'll be somewhat confusing jumping up to this one.

Chapter 2

The Fence is Whitewashed

  SATURDAY morning had come and all the world was bright and fresh. There was a song in every heart, cheerfulness in every face, and a spring in every step.
  Tom appeared on the pavement with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He regarded the fence thoughtfully, and his heart was filled with despair. Thirty yards of fence nine feet high! It seemed to him that life was not worth living and that existence was only a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush into the bucket and passed it along the topmost board; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the trifling whitewashed strip with the immensity of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a box discouraged.
  Jim came dancing out at the gate with a bucket, singing. Before this, bringing water from the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's opinion, but now it did not seem so. He remembered that there was company at the pump. Boys and girls were always there, waiting their turns, resting, exchanging playthings, quarreling, fighting and fooling about. He remembered that, although the pump was only a hundred and fifty yards away, Jim never got back with a bucket of water in less than an hour. Even then somebody generally had to go after him.
  "I say, Jim," said Tom, "I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash a bit."
  Jim shook his head.
  "I can't, Master Tom. The Mistress told me not to stay fooling about with anyone."
  "Oh, never mind what she said, Jim. Give me the bucket. I won't be a minute. She won't know."
  "Oh, I daren't, Master Tom. She would tear my head off. She would really."
  "She never hurts anybody. She just gives them a little slap. And who cares about that? Jim, I'll give you a marble."
  Jim was only a human. This temptation was too much for him. He put down the bucket and took the marble. In another minute he was flying down the street with the bucket. Tom was whitewashing energetically, and Aunt Polly was returning to the house with a slipper in her hand and a triumphant gleam in her eye.  But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had planned for this day. Soon, he thought, the free boys would come hurrying along on all sorts of delightful trips, and they would laugh at him for having to work. The very though of it burnt him like fire. He got out and examined his worldly wealth. It consisted of bits of toys, marbles and rubbish, and was not enough to buy even half an hour of pure freedom.
  At this dark and hopeless moment he had an idea-a glorious idea.
  He took the brush and went calmly to work. Presently Ben Rogers, whose mockery he had been dreading most, came in sight. In his hand there was a fine apple. Tom went on whitewashing and pain no attention to him. Ben stared at a moment, and then said:
  "Hi! You're in trouble, aren't you!"
  There was no answer. Tom regarded his last touch with the eye of an artist. Then he gave his brush another gentle sweep, and inspected the result as before. Ben came nearer. Tom's mouth watered for the apple, but he stuck to his work.
  "Hello, Tom!" said Ben. "You have to work, eh?"
  "Why, it's you, Ben! I didn't notice you."
  "I say, I'm going swimming. Don't you wish you could come? But of course you'd rather work, wouldn't you? Of course you would!
  Tom eyed the boy thoughtfully.
  "What do you call work?"
  "Why, isn't that work?"

  Tom filled his brush with whitewash, and answered carelessly:
  "Well, perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn't; but it suits Tom Sawyer."
  "What! Do you mean to say that you like it?"

  The brush continued to move.
  "Like it? Well, I don't see why I shouldn't like it. A boy doesn't get a chance every day to whitewash a fence."
  Ben had never thought of this before. He took a bite out of his apple. Tom swept his brush artistically to and fro. Then he stepped back to note the effect. He added a touch here and there, and criticized the effect again. Ben was watching every move, and getting more and more interested.
  "I say, Tom, let me whitewash a bit," said Ben presently.
  Tom considered, and was about to consent; but he changed his mind.
  "No! No! You see, Aunt Polly's very particular about this fence. It's facing the street, you know. If it was the back fence I wouldn't mind, and she wouldn't. Yes, she's very particular about this fence. It must be done very carefully. I don't think there's one boy in thousand, perhaps two thousand, who can do it in the way it has to be done."
  "Is that so? How interesting! Let me just try, only just a little. I'd let you, if you were me, Tom."
  "Ben, I'd like to, really; but Aunt Polly wouldn't like it. Jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn't let him. Sid wanted to do it, but she wouldn't Sid. Now, don't you see that I'm responsible? If you started to whitewash this fence, and anything went wrong-----"
  "Oh, nonsense; I'll be very careful. Now let me try. I say, I'll give you my apple when I've nearly finished it."
  "Well-no, Ben, I mustn't. I'm afraid----"

  "I'll give you all of it."
  Tom gave up the brush with unwillingness in his face but eagerness in his heart. While Ben worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, ate his apple, and planned the downfall of more innocent victims. Boys arrived frequently. They came to mock, but remained to whitewash. By the time Ben was tired out, Tom had promised the next chance to Billy Fisher for a kite in good repair. When Billy retired, Johnny Miller brought his place for a dead rat and a string to swing with. Thus the work went on, hour after hour.
  By the middle of the afternoon, Tom was wealthy. He had, besides the things mentioned above, twelve marbles, a pair of spectacles without glasses, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look trough, a key that would not unlock anything, a piece of chalk, a tin soldier, two tiny frogs, a little cat with only one eye, a brass door-handle, a dog-collar, the handle of a knife, and an old window-frame. He had had a nice, idle time and plenty of company, and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it. If he had not run short of whitewash, he would have stripped every boy in the village of his proudest possessions.
  Tom said to himself that life was worth living after all. He had discovered, without knowing it, this great law of human action: in order to make a man or a boy desire a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to obtain
...To Be Continued
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Tom Sawyer; Chapter 1 - "Full of Mischief"

Good eveing Guys.

Tonight, I'm going to post a story about a boy named Tom Sawyer, This is an oldie story, but it's quite interesting! It's from a book entitled "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" with Longmans' Simplified English Series (Although it's "Simplified", the language itself is complicated)

There are 29 chapters, and they're:

  1. "Full Of Mischief"
  2. The Fence is Whitewashed
  3. Joys And Sorrows
  4. Tom Is Ill
  5. The Quarrel: Outlaws
  6. In The Graveyard
  7. Tom And Huck Swear An Oath
  8. Potter is Arrested
  9. Medicine
  10. Pirates
  11. On The Island
  12. What Tom Overheard
  13. Homesick: Joe "Loses His Knife"
  14. The Storm
  15. Back From The Dead
  16. Tom's "Dream": Becky's Revenge
  17. Aunt Polly's Tears
  18. "How Could You be So Noble!"
  19. Prize Day
  20. The Trial of Potter
  21. Digging For Treasure
  22. In The Haunted House
  23. "Track The Money!"
  24. The Picnic: Huck on The Track
  25. Huck Questioned: Tom and Becky Missing
  26. Lost in The Cave
  27. Saved
  28. The Treasure Found
  29. Huck "Can't Bear Those Ways"


Tom Sawyer, a shrewd and adventurous boy, is as much at home in the respectable world of his Aunt Polly as in the self-reliant and parentless world of his friend Huck Finn. The two enjoy a series of adventures, accidentally witnessing a murder, establishing the innocence of the man wrongly accused, as well as being hunted by Injun Joe, the true murderer, eventually escaping and finding the treasure that Joe had buried. Huckleberry Finn recounts the further adventures of Huck, who runs away from a drunken and brutal father, and meets up with the escaped slave Jim. They float down the Mississippi on a raft, participating in the lives of the characters they meet, witnessing corruption, moral decay and intellectual impoverishment. Sharing so much in background and character, these two stories, the best of Twain, indisputably belong together in one volume. Though originally written as adventure stories for young people, the vivid writing provides a profound commentary on provincial American life in the mid-nineteenth century and the institution of slavery.

Chapter 1

"Full Of Mischief"

  No Answer
  "Tom!" cried Aunt Polly again.
  No Answer.
  "I wonder where that boy's gone. Tom!"
  The old lady pulled her spectacles down on her nose and looked over 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. She seemed puzzled for a moment and said:
  "Well, if I catch you, I'll---------"
  She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and pushing the sweeping-brush under the bed. She disturbed nothing but the cat. Then she went to the open door and looked out in the garden. Tom was not in sight.
  "To-o-o-m!" she shouted.
  There was a slight noise behind her, and she turned just in time to seize a small boy and prevent him from running away.
  "What have you been doing in that cupboard?"
  "Nothing! Look at your hands, and look at your mouth. What is that stuff?"
  "I don't know. It's jam. I've told you forty times that if you touched that jam I'd skin you. Hand me that stick."
  The blow was about to fall.
  "Hi! Look behind you, aunt!"
  The old lady whirled round and snatched her skirts out of danger. The boy fled, and disappeared over the high fence of the garden. His aunt stood surprised for a moment, and then gave a gentle laugh.
  "Hang the boy! Can't I ever learn anything? Hasn't he played that trick before? He's full of mischief, but he's my own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I hate whipping him. Every time I hit him my old heart almost breaks, and every time I forgive him my conscience blames me. He'll stay away from school this afternoon, and I'll be obliged to punish him by work on a Saturday, when all the boys are having a holiday, but he hates work more than anything else, and I must do my duty towards the child, or I'll spoil his character."
  Tom did stay away from school, and he had a very good time. He returned just in time to help Jim, the small servant boy, to saw and split the next day's firewood before supper. Tom's younger brother (or rather stepbrother), Sidney, had already finished his part of the work, for he was a quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways.
  While Tom was eating his supper and stealing sugar every time he had an opportunity, Aunt Polly was wondering whether Tom had disobeyed her and had been to the river. She had sewn up his shirt at the neck in order to prevent him from taking it off and swimming.
  "Tom, it was quite warm in school, wasn't it? Didn't you want to go swimming?"
  "No, auntie. Well, not much. "
  "Come here. Show me your collar."
  Tom opened his coat. The neck-band of his shirt was securely sewn. 
  "Well, you may go out and play. I was sure that you had stayed away from school and been swimming."
  "I thought you sewed his collar with white thread,"said Sidney. "Now it's black."
  "Why, I did sew it with white thread! Tom!"
  But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out he said, "Sid, I'll give you a beating for that."
  In a safe place Tom examined two needles which were stuck in his coat. One needle had white thread wound round it and the other had black.
  "She wouldn't have noticed it, but for Sid. Hang it, sometimes she sews it with white and sometimes she sews it with black. I can't remember which she uses. I wish she'd stick to one colour. But I'll make Sid suffer for that."
  Within two minutes he had forgotten all his troubles. A stranger was standing before him, a boy a little bigger than himself. A stranger of any age, male or female, was an object of curiosity in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. This boy was well dressed, too-well dressed, on a week-day. Tom stared scornfully at the stranger's fine clothes, which seemed to make his own appear worn-out.         Neither boy spoke. Finally, Tom said:
  "I can beat you!"
  "I'd like to see you try it."
  "Well, I can do it."
  "No you can't."
  "Yes I can."
  "No you can't"
  "I can."
  "You can't."
  An uncomfortable pause followed. Then Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
  "You daren't step over that. If you do, I'll beat you till you can't stand up."
  The new boy at once stepped over the line, and said:
  "Now let me see you do it."
  "You had better be careful."
  "Well, you said you'd do it. Why don't you do it?"
  "For two cents I will do it."
  The new boy took coins out of his pocket, and held them out scornfully.
  Tom Struck them to the ground.
  In an instant both boys were rolling in the dirt, fighting like cats. For a few minutes they tore at each other's hair and clothes, hit and scratched each other's noses, and covered themselves with dirt and glory. At last through the dust of battle Tom appeared, sitting on the new boy and striking him with his fists.
  "Say that you're had enough!" said Tom.
  The boy only struggled to free himself.
  "Say 'Enough!'"
  The hitting went on.
  Finally the stranger gasped "Enough!" Tom let him get up, and said, "Now that will teach you."
  The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, occasionally looking back and threatening what he would do to Tom the next time he met him. Tom replied with insults. As soon as Tom's back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw it, and hit Tom between the shoulders. The he ran like a deer. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the enemy to come outside; but the enemy only made faces at him through the window, and refused. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called Tom a vicious, impolite child, and ordered him to go away.
  Tom got home late that night, and when his aunt saw the state of his clothes, she became more determined than ever to make him work hard during the holiday on Saturday.
...To Be Continued