汤姆•索亚历险记:THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER.pdf
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain is an 1876 novel about a young boy growing up along the Mississippi River. The story is set in the fictional town of St. Petersburg, inspired by Hannibal, Missouri, where Twain lived. Tom Sawyer lives with his Aunt Polly and his half-brother Sid. Tom dirties his clothes in a fight and is made to whitewash the fence the next day as punishment. He cleverly persuades his friends to trade him small treasures for the privilege of doing his work. He then trades the treasures for Sunday School tickets which one normally receives for memorizing verses, redeeming them for a Bible, much to the surprise and bewilderment of the superintendent who thought “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.”
Tom falls in love with Becky Thatcher, a new girl in town, and persuades her to get “engaged” by kissing him. But their romance collapses when she learns Tom has been “engaged” previously to Amy Lawrence. Shortly after Becky shuns him, he accompanies Huckleberry Finn to the graveyard at night, where they witness the murder of Dr. Robinson.
CHAPTER 1 /1
CHAPTER 2 /10
CHAPTER 3 /16
CHAPTER 4 /24
CHAPTER 5 /35
CHAPTER 6 /42
CHAPTER 7 /54
CHAPTER 8 /60
CHAPTER 9 /66
CHAPTER 10 /73
CHAPTER 11 /80
CHAPTER 12 /85
CHAPTER 13 /91
CHAPTER 14 /99
CHAPTER 15 /105
CHAPTER 16 /110
CHAPTER 17 /120
CHAPTER 18 /124
CHAPTER 19 /134
CHAPTER 20 /137
CHAPTER 21 /142
CHAPTER 22 /149
CHAPTER 23 /153
CHAPTER 24 /160
CHAPTER 25 /162
CHAPTER 26 /169
CHAPTER 27 /177
CHAPTER 28 /180
CHAPTER 29 /184
CHAPTER 30 /191
CHAPTER 31 /201
CHAPTER 32 /210
CHAPTER 33 /214
CHAPTER 34 /224
CHAPTER 35 /227
Most of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred； one or two were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who were schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life； Tom Sawyer also, but not from an individual—he is a combination of the characteristics of three boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order of architecture.
The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children and slaves in the West at the period of this story—that is to say, thirty or forty years ago.
Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in.
“What’s gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!” No answer.
The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them 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； they were her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for “style,” not service—she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear:
“Well, I lay if I get hold of you I’ll—”
She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat.
“I never did see the beat of that boy!”
She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the tomato vines and “jimpson” weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted:
There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight.
“There! I might a thought of that closet. What you been doing in there?”
“Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What is that truck?”
“I don’t know, aunt.”
“Well, I know. It’s jam—that’s what it is. Forty times I’ve said if you didn’t let that jam alone I’d skin you. Hand me that switch.”
The switch hovered in the air—the peril was desperate.
“My! Look behind you, aunt!”
The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high Aunt Polly Beguiled board-fence, and disappeared over it.
His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle laugh.
“Hang the boy, can’t I never learn anything? Ain’t he played me tricks enough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But old fools is the biggest fools there is. Can’t learn an old
dog new tricks, as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike two days, and how is a body to know what’s coming? He ’pears to know just how long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he can make out to put me off for a minute, or make me laugh, it’s all down again, and I can’t hit him a lick. I ain’t doing my duty by that boy, and that’s the Lord’s truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile the child, as the Good Book says. I’m a laying up sin and suffering for us both, I know. He’s full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he’s my own dead sister’s boy, poor thing, and I ain’t got the heart to lash him, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-awell, man that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the Scripture says, and I reckon it’s so. He’ll play hookey this evening,a and I’ll just be obleeged to make him work tomorrow, to punish him. It’s mighty hard to make him work Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more than he hates anything else, and I’ve got to do some of my duty by him, or I’ll be the ruination of the child.”
Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw nextday’s wood and split the kindlings before supper—at least he was there in time to tell his adventures to Jim, while Jim did three-fourths of the work. Tom’s younger brother (or rather halfbrother) Sid was already through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways.