Tom Sawyer - Full Color Translation Edition

Author: (USA) Mark Twain / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: "Tom!" No response. "Tom!" Still no response. "Where did that boy run off to? Hey, Tom!" Still no answer. The old woman pushed her glasses down and scanned the room through the rims, then pushed them back up to her forehead and peered out from beneath them. As a dignified old woman, she had always been too proud to look through the lenses at those children. How could those insignificant children compare to her glasses? In fact, the glasses were just a decoration to her; she always felt they added to her dignity, even though she covered her eyes with the grating if she thought it made her look more imposing. For a moment, she was at a loss, then she spoke again, this time not shouting, but her voice was so loud that all the furniture seemed to resonate: "I swear, if I catch you..." Her sentence trailed off as she bent down, took a deep breath, and wildly swept under the bed with the broom, gasping for air in the process and accidentally scaring the cat away. "That boy is impossible to figure out!" She walked to the open door, stood there, and looked at the tomato vines and weeds in the garden. Tom wasn't there. She called out loud into the distance, "Hey! Tom!" Just then, a faint noise came from behind her. She turned around and saw the back of a little boy slipping into the house. "Hey! I should have known you were hiding in the cabinet. What are you doing there?" "Nothing." "Nothing! Your hands and mouth have exposed your lie. What is that?" "I don't know, Aunt Polly." "But I do. It's jam, without a doubt. I've told you a hundred times that if you dare to steal jam again, I'll beat you badly. Bring me the whip." The whip was raised, and the situation was critical. "Good heavens! Aunt Polly, who is that coming?" The old woman quickly tucked her skirt in and turned, the danger passing. The boy turned and ran, scrambling up the tall wooden fence in a few seconds and disappearing without a trace. His Aunt Polly was stunned for a moment, then burst into a gentle laugh. "That damn boy. He plays one trick after another, and why do I always fall for it? Well, I guess I really am getting old and always get tricked by him. But that boy is just too mischievous, and the tricks he's pulled lately haven't been repeated. No wonder I didn't notice. It seems he knows just how much I can tolerate, and he pushes it just enough so I don't lose my temper. He also knows how to make me laugh, and that cancels out any wrongdoing. I just can't bring myself to hit him. To be honest, God above, I haven't been doing right by this boy. Some say that discipline through a rod brings up a good son. I'm both guilty and punished for it, and I know it. He's full of mischief, but what can I do about him? Oh, my poor sister left me with just this one child. How can I bear to hit him? But every time I let him off, I feel guilty, and I'm torn between the two. This afternoon, he skipped school, and I have a duty to teach him a lesson. Tomorrow, I'll punish him. On Saturday, when all the other children are enjoying their vacation, I'll force him to work, and it'll be hard on him. I have to do my duty to him, or this boy will be ruined." Of course, Tom skipped school. He had a great time and barely came back on time to help the black boy Jim. Before dinner, Jim was splitting wood for the next day. Tom finally returned on time, proudly recounting his day's adventures to his friends. As a result, Jim only finished three-quarters of the work he had planned. Tom's stepsister, Sid, was a well-behaved and obedient child who never took risks or caused trouble. During dinner, Tom stole sugar whenever he got a chance. Aunt Polly asked him many deep and clever questions, trying to catch him out. She was like many simple-minded people, who believed they had great social skills and even took pride in it. She loved to devise simple tricks, but they were usually easily guessed. She asked, "Tom, school is quite hot, isn't it?" "Yes." "Extremely hot, right?" "Also." "Have you thought about going swimming, Tom?" Tom was startled and immediately became wary. He glanced at Aunt Polly's face, but her expression was blank. So he said, "Not really. Well, not very much." P1-3