THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER

By Mark Twain
(Samuel Langhorne Clemens)

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. "Tom!"—Aunt Polly Decides What She Must Do—Tom Whistles—The Challenge—A Secret Way In

CHAPTER II. Big Temptations—Clever Tricks—Fooling the Other Boys

CHAPTER III. Tom Leads Like a General—Winning and a Reward—Gloomy Happiness—A Job Half Done

CHAPTER IV. Thinking Tricks—Going to Sunday School—The Superintendent—Showing Off—Tom Becomes Famous

CHAPTER V. A Helpful Minister—In Church—The Big Moment

CHAPTER VI. Looking Inside Himself—A Loose Tooth—The Midnight Spell—Witches and Devils—Careful Steps—Happy Times

CHAPTER VII. A Deal Is Made—Early Lessons—A Mistake

CHAPTER VIII. Tom Decides What To Do—Old Games Played Again

CHAPTER IX. A Serious Night—Serious Talk—Injun Joe Explains

CHAPTER X. The Solemn Promise—Fear Brings Guilt—A Troubled Mind

CHAPTER XI. Muff Potter Shows Up—Tom's Conscience Bothers Him

CHAPTER XII. Tom Shows Kindness—Aunt Polly Softens

CHAPTER XIII. The Young Pirates—Off to Their Hideout—Talk Around the Campfire

CHAPTER XIV. Camp Life—A Surprise—Tom Sneaks Away From Camp

CHAPTER XV. Tom Spies On the Town—Finds Out What's Happening—Reports Back at Camp

CHAPTER XVI. A Day of Fun—Tom Shares a Secret—The Pirates Learn Something—A Night Scare—A Pretend Indian War

CHAPTER XVII. Remembering the Lost Boys—The Real Secret

CHAPTER XVIII. Tom's Feelings Are Tested—A Strange Dream—Becky Thatcher Is Forgotten—Tom Gets Jealous—Cold Revenge

CHAPTER XIX. Tom Tells the Truth

CHAPTER XX. Becky's Trouble—Tom Does the Right Thing

CHAPTER XXI. Speeches at School—Essays by the Girls—A Long Daydream—Tom Gets His Revenge

CHAPTER XXII. Tom's Secret Is Told—He Expects to Be Punished

CHAPTER XXIII. Old Muff's Friends—Muff Potter's Trial—Muff Potter Is Saved

CHAPTER XXIV. Tom Becomes the Town Hero—Great Days and Scary Nights—Chasing Injun Joe

CHAPTER XXV. Kings and Diamonds—Hunting for Treasure—Dead Men and Ghosts

CHAPTER XXVI. The Haunted House—Sleepy Ghosts—A Box of Gold—Bad Luck

CHAPTER XXVII. Questions to Answer—The Young Detectives

CHAPTER XXVIII. A Try at Room Number Two—Huck Stands Guard

CHAPTER XXIX. The Picnic—Huck Follows Injun Joe—The Plan for Revenge—Helping the Widow

CHAPTER XXX. The Welshman's Report—Huck in Trouble—The Story Spreads—A New Shock—Hope Turns to Fear

CHAPTER XXXI. Exploring the Cave—Trouble Begins—Lost Inside—Total Darkness—Found, But Not Safe Yet

CHAPTER XXXII. Tom Tells How They Escaped—Tom's Enemy Is Trapped

CHAPTER XXXIII. What Happens to Injun Joe—Huck and Tom Talk It Over—Back to the Cave—Safe From Ghosts—"A Snug Little Spot"—A Party at Widow Douglas's

CHAPTER XXXIV. A Secret Comes Out—Mr. Jones' Surprise Falls Flat

CHAPTER XXXV. A New Way of Life—Poor Huck—Planning New Adventures

(A long list of picture titles from the book follows here in the original.)

PREFACE

Most of the adventures in this book really happened. One or two happened to me. The rest happened to boys who went to school with me. Huck Finn is based on a real boy. Tom Sawyer is too, but he is not just one person—he is made up of three boys I knew, all mixed together.

The strange superstitions in this story were common among children and enslaved people in the West at that time—about thirty or forty years before this book was written.

This book is mainly meant to entertain boys and girls. But I hope grown-ups will enjoy it too. Part of my goal was to remind adults, in a pleasant way, of what they were like when they were young—how they felt, thought, and talked, and the odd adventures they used to have.

THE AUTHOR
HARTFORD, 1876

CHAPTER I

"Tom!"

No answer.

"TOM!"

No answer.

"I wonder where that boy has gone. TOM!"

Still no answer.

The old woman pulled her glasses down and peered over the top of them around the room. Then she pushed them back up and looked out from underneath them instead. She almost never looked through them to find something as small as a boy. These were her fancy glasses, the ones she was proud of. They were made to look nice, not to actually help her see well—she might as well have tried looking through two lids from a stove. For a moment she looked puzzled. Then she said, not angrily, but loud enough that even the furniture could hear:

"Well, if I catch you, I'll—"

She didn't finish the sentence. By then she was bending down, poking her broom under the bed, and she needed her breath for the poking, not for talking. All she found under there was the cat.

"I have never seen a boy like that one!"

She walked to the open door and looked out at the tomato plants and weeds that made up her garden. No Tom. So she raised her voice as loud as she could and called out toward the distance:

"TOM!"

Just then she heard a small noise behind her. She turned around just in time to grab a small boy by the back of his jacket before he could run off.

"There! I should have thought to check that closet. What were you doing in there?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Then look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What is that mess?"

"I don't know, Aunt Polly."

"Well, I know. It's jam. That's what it is. I've told you forty times that if you didn't leave that jam alone, I'd give you a whipping. Hand me that switch."

The thin stick rose into the air. Trouble was about to happen.

"Look out behind you, Aunt Polly!"

The old woman spun around, grabbing her skirts out of the way. In that instant, the boy dashed off, climbed over the tall fence, and disappeared on the other side.

His aunt stood there, surprised, for a moment. Then she began to laugh softly.

"That boy! Will I never learn? Hasn't he tricked me like this enough times by now that I should watch out for it? But old fools really are the biggest fools of all, they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. But my goodness, he never plays the same trick twice in a row, so how am I supposed to guess what's coming next? He seems to know exactly how long he can push his luck before I get truly angry, and he knows that if he can stall me for a minute or make me laugh, then all is forgiven and I can't bring myself to punish him. I'm not doing right by that boy, and that's the truth. Spare the rod and spoil the child, as the Good Book says. I know I'm storing up trouble for both of us. He's full of mischief, but goodness, he's my own dead sister's son, poor thing, and somehow I just can't bring myself to punish him. Every time I let him get away with something, my conscience bothers me. And every time I do punish him, my old heart nearly breaks. Well, as the Scripture says, people born into this world have few days and plenty of trouble, and I suppose that's true. He'll skip school again this afternoon, and I'll have to make him work tomorrow to make up for it. It's hard to make him work on Saturdays when all the other boys get the day off, but he hates work more than anything else in the world, and I have to do my duty by him, or I'll end up ruining the child completely."

Tom did skip school, and he had a wonderful time doing it. He got home just in time to help Jim, a young Black boy who worked for the family, saw the wood for the next day and split kindling before supper—or at least he was there in time to tell Jim all about his adventures while Jim did most of the work. Tom's younger brother, Sid (really his half-brother), had already finished his own chore of picking up wood chips, since he was a quiet, well-behaved boy who never got into any trouble.

While Tom ate his supper, sneaking bits of sugar whenever he got the chance, Aunt Polly asked him sly questions, hoping to trick him into admitting something. Like many simple, good-hearted people, she liked to believe she had a special talent for clever, secretive questioning. She was proud of her tricks, even though they were easy to see through. She said:

"Tom, it was pretty warm in school today, wasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very warm, wasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Didn't you want to go swimming, Tom?"

A little jolt of worry shot through Tom. He studied his aunt's face, but it gave nothing away. So he answered:

"No, ma'am—well, not really."

The old woman reached out and felt his shirt.

"But you're not too warm now, though." She was pleased with herself, thinking she'd cleverly discovered that his shirt was dry, without anyone knowing what she was really checking for. But Tom had already figured out what she was up to. So he got ahead of her next question:

"Some of us poured water on our heads. Mine's still damp—see?"

Aunt Polly was annoyed that she'd missed that clue and lost a point in her little game. Then she thought of something else:

"Tom, you didn't have to unbutton your shirt collar—the one I sewed shut—just to pour water on