Tag: humor

  • Chapter 3 of Adventures of Tom Sawyer

    The following is an excerpt of original content distributed from the Project Gutenberg website.

    statue of mark twain

    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. He said: “Mayn’t I go and play now, aunt?”

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  • Chapter 2 of Adventures of Tom Sawyer

    The following is an excerpt of original content distributed from the Project Gutenberg website.

    statue of mark twain

    Saturday morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. 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.

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  • Chapter 1 of Adventures of Tom Sawyer

    The following is an excerpt of original content distributed from the Project Gutenberg website.

    statue of mark twain

    “Tom!”

    No answer.

    “TOM!”

    No answer.

    “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—”

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