chapter 17
湯姆索亞曆險記英文版 作者：馬克·吐溫 投票推薦 加入書簽 留言反饋
but there was no hrity in the little town that same tranquil saturday afternoon. the harpers, and aunt polly''s family, were being put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. an unusual quiet possessed the vige, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. the vigers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. the saturday holiday seemed a burden to the children. they had no heart in their sports, and gradually gave them up.
in the afternoon becky thatcher found herself moping about the deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very mncholy. but she found nothing there tofort her. she soliloquized:
"oh, if i only had a brass andiron-knob again! but i haven''t got anything now to remember him by." and she choked back a little sob.
presently she stopped, and said to herself:
"it was right here. oh, if it was to do over again, i wouldn''t say that -- i wouldn''t say it for the whole world. but he''s gone now; i''ll never, never, never see him any more."
this thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling down her cheeks. then quite a group of boys and girls -- ymates of tom''s and joe''s -- came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and talking in reverent tones of how tom did so-and-so thest time they saw him, and how joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!) -- and each speaker pointed out the exact spot where the lostds stood at the time, and then added something like "and i was a-standing just so -- just as i am now, and as if you was him -- i was as close as that -- and he smiled, just this way -- and then something seemed to go all over me, like -- awful, you know -- and i never thought what it meant, of course, but i can see now!"
then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boysst in life, and many imed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided who did see the departedst, and exchanged thest words with them, the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and were gaped at and envied by all the rest. one poor chap, who had no other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the remembrance:
"well, tom sawyer he licked me once."
but that bid for glory was a failure. most of the boys could say that, and so that cheapened the distinction too much. the group loitered away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.
when the sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. it was a very still sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush thaty upon nature. the vigers began to gather, loitering a moment in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. but there was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. none could remember when the little church had been so full before. there was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then aunt polly entered, followed by sid and mary, and they by the harper family, all in deep ck, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front pew. there was anothermuning silence, broken at intervals by muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. a moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "i am the resurrection and the life."
as the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lostds that every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always before, and had as persistently seen only faults and ws in the poor boys. the minister rted many a touching incident in the lives of the departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes were, and remembered with grief that at the time they urred they had seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. the congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, till atst the wholepany broke down and joined the weeping mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.
there was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a momentter the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! first one and then another pair of eyes followed the minister''s, and then almost with one impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came marching up the aisle, tom in the lead, joe next, and huck, a ruin of drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! they had been hid in the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!
aunt polly, mary, and the harpers threw themselves upon their restored ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while poor huck stood abashed and ufortable, not knowing exactly what to do or where to hide from so many unweing eyes. he wavered, and started to slink away, but tom seized him and said:
"aunt polly, it ain''t fair. somebody''s got to be d to see huck."
"and so they shall. i''m d to see him, poor motherless thing!" and the loving attentions aunt pollyvished upon him were the one thing capable of making him more ufortable than he was before.
suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "praise god from whom all blessings flow -- sing! -- and put your hearts in it!"
and they did. old hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and while it shook the rafters tom sawyer the pirate looked around upon the envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was the proudest moment of his life.
as the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be willing to be made ridiculous again to hear old hundred sung like that once more.
tom got more cuffs and kisses that day -- ording to aunt polly''s varying moods -- than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew which expressed the most gratefulness to god and affection for himself.
in the afternoon becky thatcher found herself moping about the deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very mncholy. but she found nothing there tofort her. she soliloquized:
"oh, if i only had a brass andiron-knob again! but i haven''t got anything now to remember him by." and she choked back a little sob.
presently she stopped, and said to herself:
"it was right here. oh, if it was to do over again, i wouldn''t say that -- i wouldn''t say it for the whole world. but he''s gone now; i''ll never, never, never see him any more."
this thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling down her cheeks. then quite a group of boys and girls -- ymates of tom''s and joe''s -- came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and talking in reverent tones of how tom did so-and-so thest time they saw him, and how joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!) -- and each speaker pointed out the exact spot where the lostds stood at the time, and then added something like "and i was a-standing just so -- just as i am now, and as if you was him -- i was as close as that -- and he smiled, just this way -- and then something seemed to go all over me, like -- awful, you know -- and i never thought what it meant, of course, but i can see now!"
then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boysst in life, and many imed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided who did see the departedst, and exchanged thest words with them, the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and were gaped at and envied by all the rest. one poor chap, who had no other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the remembrance:
"well, tom sawyer he licked me once."
but that bid for glory was a failure. most of the boys could say that, and so that cheapened the distinction too much. the group loitered away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.
when the sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. it was a very still sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush thaty upon nature. the vigers began to gather, loitering a moment in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. but there was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. none could remember when the little church had been so full before. there was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then aunt polly entered, followed by sid and mary, and they by the harper family, all in deep ck, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front pew. there was anothermuning silence, broken at intervals by muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. a moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "i am the resurrection and the life."
as the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lostds that every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always before, and had as persistently seen only faults and ws in the poor boys. the minister rted many a touching incident in the lives of the departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes were, and remembered with grief that at the time they urred they had seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. the congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, till atst the wholepany broke down and joined the weeping mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.
there was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a momentter the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! first one and then another pair of eyes followed the minister''s, and then almost with one impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came marching up the aisle, tom in the lead, joe next, and huck, a ruin of drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! they had been hid in the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!
aunt polly, mary, and the harpers threw themselves upon their restored ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while poor huck stood abashed and ufortable, not knowing exactly what to do or where to hide from so many unweing eyes. he wavered, and started to slink away, but tom seized him and said:
"aunt polly, it ain''t fair. somebody''s got to be d to see huck."
"and so they shall. i''m d to see him, poor motherless thing!" and the loving attentions aunt pollyvished upon him were the one thing capable of making him more ufortable than he was before.
suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "praise god from whom all blessings flow -- sing! -- and put your hearts in it!"
and they did. old hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and while it shook the rafters tom sawyer the pirate looked around upon the envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was the proudest moment of his life.
as the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be willing to be made ridiculous again to hear old hundred sung like that once more.
tom got more cuffs and kisses that day -- ording to aunt polly''s varying moods -- than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew which expressed the most gratefulness to god and affection for himself.