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05.02.2021, admin(He would sojourn during sea for Eighteen months, as an particular who enjoys a ache of occurrence malapropisms I owe the special due to averxge who used "curtsy" Lorem lpsum 294 boatplans/sailboat/sailboats-for-sale-vancouver-427 http://myboat294 boatplans/sailboat/sailboats-for-sale-vancouver-427.html he meant "courtesy". Furling headsail -a bowsprit or opposite headsail which robotically rolls turn the almost firm forestay when the line is pulled.
I customarily get out as well as in of my vessel whilst sport as well as have by no equates to had the complaint with a vessel perplexing to take H2O or flip .
The multi-level swim platform is the most distinguishing feature of Yamaha boats and very popular with fishermen and families alike.
A hatch on the port side of the swim platform opens to reveal the round cleanout port for the engine. Under the swim platform is a cleanout port, so no jumping into the water if the boat runs through grass or weeds. When the hatch is opened, a cutoff disables the engine. The lower swim platform has a stainless steel telescoping reboarding ladder just to the right of center where two grab handles ease the reboarding process.
Easy access for water sports or landing a big one. With the jump seatbacks and cushions removed and the helm bolster reversed, there is space around the leaning post for stand-up casting. The cap rails have non-skid, and a step onto the multi-level swim platform is also a good spot to drop a line. Downside stadium seating. Rod holders are in the caprail aft of the elevated deck. Two others are on the side caprails. The livewell is aerated, rounded, and painted blue. Under the jump seat hatch to starboard is a gal A carry-on cooler stores under the helm seat.
The leaning post includes a reversible seatback so we can watch the lines or take a seat while working the aft casting deck. Jump seats provide seating for friends and family. Battery storage is below this port side seat.
The acrylic windshield showed zero distortion at the curves. The rocker switches under the Connext display have resettable breakers just above them. The dash panel has the 4. A compass is to the right. Below are the electrical rocker switches. The stainless wheel is on a tilt base and has a steering knob. To the left of the wheel is the ignition and blower switch. The throttle binnacle is to the right, with bilge, livewell, washdown and No-Wake controls alongside.
The No-Wake mode switch has three preset rpm settings. The black open storage in the console base contains USB and charging ports. The angled footrest has a continuation of the Marine Mat flooring used on the cockpit sole.
Below are lockable and open storage compartments. A footrail is below. Horizontal rod storage is below and to each side. Upper right is the raw water washdown connection. The washdown system has been improved over previous editions with greater PSI directly off the jet pump.
A speaker, horn, air vent, and low down a courtesy light, grace the side of the console. The grommets in the canvas top allow for extra-long rod storage alongside the center console. Grab handles are integrated into the support frames. Vertical rod holders are to the sides of the console, and grommets in the canvas T-top accommodate rod height.
At the trailing edge of the T-top are four rocket-launcher-style rod holders. There is an insulated fish box in the casting deck and forward of the fish box is general storage. Combination rod and cup holders adorn the caprail to either side of the forward casting platform. Bow seating includes the console bench seat and the removable cushion over the fish box. The flare on the bow makes more room on the forward casting deck. Below the triangular storage on the port side is Plano tackle box storage.
Note the ABYC certified grab handles on the bulwark of the casting deck. A fluke anchor hangs in the anchor locker with anchor keepers holding it in place. Note the notch at the front of the locker and in the lid for the rode, and the unusual pull up cleat on the nose of the boat for securing the rode. Yamaha has a list of product accessories, from ski ropes and water toys, to propane grills available for their jet boats.
The boat on the trailer has a dry weight of 3, pounds, light enough to be towed by a small truck or mid-sized SUV.
The foldaway tongue means that the boat can be stored in a garage with only The T-top and windshield are removable for those garages with low overheads. Yamaha makes a slightly cheaper model called the FSH Deluxe, on the same hull that is different in the trim package-no T-top standard for instance.
Stylish and fast the new supercharged jet boats from Yamaha are made in the USA. A jet powered boat with no external drives is safer for water activities, has better shallow water capabilities, and rides flatter with less bow rise than traditionally powered boats. Clearly, this boat appeals to the customer who enjoys coastal living up close and personal. The FSH Sport has enough serious fishing features to accommodate all but offshore anglers, and many features to keep day boaters happy.
Yamaha has packed a lot into a boat under feet long and that should have broad appeal to a lot of boaters. Yamaha has years of experience with jet boats and jet-powered PWC. Here they build the entire boat, engine and all, and stand behind them, while continuing to innovate.
Further proof that Captain Steve takes his job of testing every facet of every boat seriously. Hand me that switch. The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and disappeared over it. But old fools is the biggest fools there is. Spare the rod and spile the child, as the Good Book says.
Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and very deep�for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low cunning.
Said she:. A bit of a scare shot through Tom�a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. So he said:. But in spite of her, Tom knew where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:. Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new inspiration:. Unbutton your jacket!
He opened his jacket. His shirt collar was securely sewed. But I forgive ye, Tom. This time. She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom had stumbled into obedient conduct for once. In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them�one needle carried white thread and the other black.
He said:. Confound it! He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very well though�and loathed him. Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. This new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it un-disturbed. It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short intervals in the midst of the music�the reader probably remembers how to do it, if he has ever been a boy.
Diligence and attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet�no doubt, as far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer.
The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom checked his whistle. A stranger was before him�a boy a shade larger than himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an im-pressive curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St.
This boy was well dressed, too�well dressed on a week-day. This was simply astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons.
He had shoes on�and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of ribbon. The more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved�but only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all the time.
Finally Tom said:. I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to. You say you can do it. Oh, what a hat! What do you keep saying you will for? Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder.
Tom said:. So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:.
The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. Presently the confusion took form, and through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and pounding him with his fists.
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 declined.
He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its firmness. There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air.
Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit.
Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged.
Jim came skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. He remembered that there was company at the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under an hour�and even then somebody generally had to go after him.
Jim was only human�this attraction was too much for him. He put down his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye.
He began to think of the fun he had planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and they would make a world of fun of him for having to work�the very thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and examined it�bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an exchange of work , maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys.
At this dark and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a great, magnificent inspiration. He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in sight presently�the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been dreading. He was eating an apple, and giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious pomp and circumstance�for he was personating the Big Missouri, and considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water.
He was boat and captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them:. Stop the labboard! Come ahead on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow! Get out that head-line! Take a turn round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now�let her go!
Done with the engines, sir! Tom went on whitewashing�paid no attention to the steamboat. No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Ben said:. Course you would! All I know, is, it suits Tom Sawyer. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day? That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth�stepped back to note the effect�added a touch here and there�criticised the effect again�Ben watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed.
Presently he said:. Oh come, now�lemme just try. Now lemme try. Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents.
There was no lack of material; boys happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in for a dead rat and a string to swing it with�and so on, and so on, hour after hour.
And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling in wealth. He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while�plenty of company�and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all.
He had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it�namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers or performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement.
There are wealthy gentlemen in England who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them considerable money; but if they were offered wages for the service, that would turn it into work and then they would resign. The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to report. TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an open window in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined.
The balmy summer air, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmur of the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her knitting�for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her lap.
Her spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thought that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at seeing him place himself in her power again in this intrepid way.
Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see for herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. When she found the entire fence white-washed, and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even a streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable.
She said:. She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a treat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway that led to the back rooms on the second floor.
Clods were handy and the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, and Tom was over the fence and gone.
There was a gate, but as a general thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his black thread and getting him into trouble. Tom was General of one of these armies, Joe Harper a bosom friend General of the other. These two great commanders did not condescend to fight in person�that being better suited to the still smaller fry�but sat together on an eminence and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through aides-de-camp.
Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the necessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line and marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone.
As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new girl in the garden�a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroidered pan-talettes.
The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction; he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is done.
He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some time; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door.
Tom heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment before she disappeared. The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as if he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction.
Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his nose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side, in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner.
But only for a minute�only while he could button the flower inside his jacket, next his heart�or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. Finally he strode home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions.
Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his immunity, reached for the sugar-bowl�a sort of glorying over Tom which was wellnigh unbearable. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even controlled his tongue and was silent. The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom cried out:. Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But when she got her tongue again, she only said:. Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into a confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that.
So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and die with that word unsaid.
Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and his sore heart at rest.
How she would throw herself upon him, and how her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would lie there cold and white and make no sign�a poor little sufferer, whose griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos of these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose.
And such a luxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it; it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an age-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved in clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in at the other.
He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought desolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature.
Then he thought of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she knew?
Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms around his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it up in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare.
At last he rose up sighing and departed in the darkness. Was the sacred presence there? He climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till he stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion; then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor wilted flower.
And thus he would die�out in the cold world, with no shelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the death-damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over him when the great agony came. And thus she would see him when she looked out upon the glad morning, and oh! The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz as of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a sound as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the fence and shot away in the gloom.
Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made mental note of the omission. THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of originality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter of the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai. Tom bent all his energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter.
At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through the fog:.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. You must go and learn it again. Tom contrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday-school. Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then he dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves; poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the door.
But Mary removed the towel and said:. Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time he stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a big breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes shut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony of suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in front and backward around his neck.
Mary took him in hand, and when she was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. He now looked exceedingly improved and uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for there was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him.
He hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought them out. But Mary said, persuasively:. So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three children set out for Sunday-school�a place that Tom hated with his whole heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it.
Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then church service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon voluntarily, and the other always remained too�for stronger reasons.
At the door Tom dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade:. Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones.
He waylaid other boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm of clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a quarrel with the first boy that came handy.
When they came to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried through, and each got his reward�in small blue tickets, each with a passage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses of the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be exchanged for it; ten red tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible worth forty cents in those easy times to the pupil.
How many of my readers would have the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, even for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way�it was the patient work of two years�and a boy of German parentage had won four or five. In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with a closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its leaves, and commanded attention.
When a Sunday-school superintendent makes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is as necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert�though why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet of music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a slim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair; he wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached his ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his mouth�a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning of the whole body when a side view was required; his chin was propped on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note, and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the fashion of the day, like sleigh-runners�an effect patiently and laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes pressed against a wall for hours together.
Walters was very earnest of mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacred things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly matters, that unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. He began after this fashion:. There�that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see one little girl who is looking out of the window�I am afraid she thinks I am out there somewhere�perhaps up in one of the trees making a speech to the little birds.
It is not necessary to set down the rest of the oration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar to us all. The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases of isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary.
But now every sound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. The lady was leading a child. But when he saw this small newcomer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in a moment. The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. The middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage�no less a one than the county judge�altogether the most august creation these children had ever looked upon�and they wondered what kind of material he was made of�and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half afraid he might, too.
He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away�so he had travelled, and seen the world�these very eyes had looked upon the county court-house�which was said to have a tin roof. The awe which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence and the ranks of staring eyes.
This was the great Judge Thatcher, brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to be familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would have been music to his soul to hear the whisperings:. There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough�he had been around among the star pupils inquiring.
He would have given worlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind. And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward with nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten years. But there was no getting around it�here were the certified checks, and they were good for their face.
Tom was therefore elevated to a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was announced from headquarters. The boys were all eaten up with envy�but those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too late that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass.
She wondered; then she was just a grain troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went�came again; she watched; a furtive glance told her worlds�and then her heart broke, and she was jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom most of all she thought. Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath would hardly come, his heart quaked�partly because of the awful greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent.
He would have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out:. I thought there was more to it, maybe. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. Two thousand verses is a great many�very, very great many. Now, no doubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples.
Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed, now, and his eyes fell. He said to himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest question�why did the Judge ask him?
Yet he felt obliged to speak up and say:. ABOUT half-past ten the cracked bell of the small church began to ring, and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon.
The Sunday-school children distributed themselves about the house and occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her�Tom being placed next the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open window and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd filed up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better days; the mayor and his wife�for they had a mayor there, among other unnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglas, fair, smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, her hill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and much the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St.
Petersburg could boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyer Riverson, the new notable from a distance; next the belle of the village, followed by a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked young heart-breakers; then all the young clerks in town in a body�for they had stood in the vestibule sucking their cane-heads, a circling wall of oiled and simpering admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet; and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful care of his mother as if she were cut glass.
He always brought his mother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys all hated him, he was so good. His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as usual on Sundays�accidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he looked upon boys who had as snobs. The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more, to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell Average Speed Of A Boat In Knots upon the church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the choir in the gallery.
The choir always tittered and whispered all through service. There was once a church choir that was not ill-bred, but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago, and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was in some foreign country. The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in a peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country. His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached a certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost word and then plunged down as if from a spring-board:.
He was regarded as a wonderful reader. After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Often, the less there is to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it.
And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went into details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself; for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the President; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed by stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of European monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear withal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed with a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a grateful harvest of good.
There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat down. The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, he only endured it�if he even did that much. In the midst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of him and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands together, embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that it seemed to almost part company with the body, and the slender thread of a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings with its hind legs and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coat-tails; going through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectly safe.
His aunt detected the act and made him let it go. The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through an argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod�and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone and thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be hardly worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; after church he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew anything else about the discourse.
However, this time he was really interested for a little while. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of the great spectacle were lost upon the boy; he only thought of the conspicuousness of the principal character before the on-looking nations; his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that he wished he could be that child, if it was a tame lion.
Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed. Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was in a percussion-cap box.
The first thing the beetle did was to take him by the finger. The beetle lay there working its helpless legs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it was safe out of his reach.
Other people uninterested in the sermon found relief in the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodle dog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change.
He spied the beetle; the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize; walked around it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again; grew bolder, and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made a gingerly snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and another; began to enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetle between his paws, and continued his experiments; grew weary at last, and then indifferent and absent-minded.
His head nodded, and little by little his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. The neighboring spectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind fans and hand-kerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog looked foolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart, too, and a craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a wary attack on it again; jumping at it from every point of a circle, lighting with his fore-paws within an inch of the creature, making even closer snatches at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his ears flapped again.
But he grew tired once more, after a while; tried to amuse himself with a fly but found no relief; followed an ant around, with his nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that; yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then there was a wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up the aisle; the yelps continued, and so did the dog; he crossed the house in front of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; he crossed before the doors; he clamored up the home-stretch; his anguish grew with his progress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in its orbit with the gleam and the speed of light.
By this time the whole church was red-faced and suffocating with suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. The discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all possibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravest sentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst of unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pew-back, as if the poor parson had said a rarely facetious thing.
It was a genuine relief to the whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the benediction pronounced. Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there was some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of variety in it.
He had but one marring thought; he was willing that the dog should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright in him to carry it off. He generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much more odious. Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was sick; then he could stay home from school.
Here was a vague possibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he investigated again. This time he thought he could detect colicky symptoms, and he began to encourage them with considerable hope.
But they soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected further. Suddenly he discovered something. One of Average Speed Of A Boat In Knots Treatment his upper front teeth was loose. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him lose a finger.
So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know the necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it, so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit. Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and then swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans.
Tom was aggravated. This course worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at Tom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said:. Say, Tom! What is the matter, Tom? How long you been this way? It makes my flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter? But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone.
Tom was suffering in reality, now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his groans had gathered quite a genuine tone. But she fled upstairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels. And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached the bedside she gasped out:. The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a little, then did both together. This restored her and she said:. Now you shut up that nonsense and climb out of this. The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe.
The boy felt a little foolish, and he said:. Open your mouth. Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen.
I wish I may never stir if it does. Tom, Tom, I love you so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart with your outrageousness. The tooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now. But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school after breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in his upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and admirable way.
He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the exhibition; and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre of fascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly without an adherent, and shorn of his glory. Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry Finn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless and vulgar and bad�and because all their children admired him so, and delighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be like him.
Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders not to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance. Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grown men, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags.
His hat was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim; his coat, when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons far down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat of the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs dragged in the dirt when not rolled up.
Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he could go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it suited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as he pleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring and the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, nor put on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully.
In a word, everything that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every harassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. There now! Leastways all but the nigger. Now you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck. Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blame fool way as that!
Why, Tom, I know she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own self. Specially if they mumble. How could their charms work till midnight? This is a pretty early tick, I reckon. Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it.
Huckleberry viewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said:. When Tom reached the little isolated frame school-house, he strode in briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed. He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with business-like alacrity.
The master, throned on high in his great splint-bottom arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. The interruption roused him. He instantly said:. The buzz of study ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his mind. The master said:. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off your jacket. Then the order followed:. And let this be a warning to you. The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but in reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe of his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good fortune.
He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl hitched herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon the long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book.
By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur rose upon the dull air once more. Presently the boy began to steal furtive glances at the girl. When she cautiously faced around again, a peach lay before her. She thrust it away. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with less animosity. Tom patiently returned it to its place. Then she let it remain. Now the boy began to draw something on the slate, hiding his work with his left hand.
For a time the girl refused to notice; but her human curiosity presently began to manifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on, apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort of non-committal attempt to see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she gave in and hesitatingly whispered:. Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney.
When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then whispered:. The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick.
He could have stepped over the house; but the girl was not hypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered:. Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and armed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said:. Oh, I know. You call me Tom, will you? Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from the girl. But she was not backward this time.
She begged to see. Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his ear, and a steady lifting impulse.
In that wise he was borne across the house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a word. As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the turmoil within him was too great. THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up.
It seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees.
Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep.
His hand wandered into his pocket and his face lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out.
He released the tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner.
The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of the tick. The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to all things else.
At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was angry in a moment.
Said he:. The boys had been too absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he contributed his bit of variety to it. When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and whispered in her ear:.
So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising house.
When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. Tom was swimming in bliss. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your head with a string. What I like is chewing-gum. That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their legs against the bench in excess of contentment. That will be nice. And they get slathers of money�most a dollar a day, Ben Rogers says.
Say, Becky, was you ever engaged? Anybody can do it. Do you remember what I wrote on the slate? Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm about her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouth close to her ear.
And then he added:. He turned his face away. Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches, with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with her little white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and pleaded:. Please, Becky. By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowing with the struggle, came up and submitted.
Tom kissed the red lips and said:. Will you? Of course. Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and turned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, with soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again.
Then his pride was up, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hoping she would repent and come to find him. But she did not.
Then he began to feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle with him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it and entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with her face to the wall. He went to her and stood a moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly:.
Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an andiron, and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said:. She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over the hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. Presently Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; she flew around to the play-yard; he was not there.
Then she called:.
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