Listen to the AudioBook: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Complete by Mark Twain

THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER

By Mark Twain

(Samuel Langhorne Clemens)

CHAPTER I. Y-o-u-u Tom—Aunt Polly Decides Upon her Duty—Tom Practices Music—The Challenge—A Private Entrance

“TOM!”

No answer.

“TOM!”

No answer.

“TOM!”

A sluggish scramble of feet on the floor above, and then Ben Rogers appeared around the corner of the house, a glint of triumph in his eye.

“Pears like you thought nobody but Hymn-book a-coming,” he observed.

Tom emerged from behind the steps, breathless, with paint brush in hand. “What’s the matter? Dunno nothin’ about it.”

“Well, now,” Ben returned, with a significant wink, “I’ll let you off this time; but next time you’ll hear the bell.”

“What bell?” Tom asked, trying to look unconcerned.

“The school bell,” Ben said.

Tom’s face fell. “Oh, that. I forgot.”

“Well, you better not forget next time,” Ben retorted, and started to leave.

“Hold on a minute, Ben,” Tom called out. “What’s your hurry?”

“Gotta go to school.”

“It ain’t school-time yet.”

“Ain’t it?” Ben said, looking surprised. “Well, I got a hunch it is.”

“If you think so,” Tom said, with a shrug, “you go ahead. I’m not going.”

Ben paused. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Tom echoed. “Why should I go?”

“Well, you got to go, ain’t you?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Tom said, dipping his brush in the whitewash. “I got something more important to do.”

Ben looked at the fence, then at Tom. “What’s that?”

“Why, look here, Ben Rogers, there ain’t a boy in this whole town that can whitewash this fence half as well as me.”

Ben stopped grinning. He stared at the fence. It was a long, tall fence.

“Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?” Tom continued, casually. He gave the brush another sweep. “I reckon not.”

“What is it you’re doing, anyway?” Ben asked, a flicker of interest in his eyes.

“Why, it’s work, what else is it?” Tom said, as if stating the obvious. “Say, I come over to tell you, I asked your mother if I could whitewash this fence for you, and she said yes.”

Ben’s face clouded over. “She did?”

“Yep. And she said if I finished before noon, I could have a raw apple and half a dead rat for dinner.”

Ben’s eyes widened. “A raw apple and half a dead rat? That’s good eating, that is.”

“It is,” Tom agreed, with a sigh of contentment. “But I reckon I’ll have to pass this time. Got too much work.”

Ben Rogers was very fond of raw apples, and apples generally, and had a certain bird-like curiosity about the eating of dead rats. He stared at the brush in Tom’s hand.

“Say, Tom, you don’t have to work, do you?”

Tom looked up at him with an injured expression. “What do you take me for, a vagrant?”

“Well, I didn’t mean nothin’.”

“Say, I’ll let you try if you want to. I reckon Aunt Polly won’t have no objections to you having a chance.”

Ben’s eyes sparkled. “Would you, Tom?”

“Just like that. I’ll give you the brush.”

Ben stretched out his hand.

Tom drew back. “Now, look here, Ben Rogers, this ain’t no charity. I want something for it.”

“I’ll give you a marble,” Ben offered.

“A white alley?” Tom inquired casually.

“A blue one,” Ben said.

“Enclosed with a jack?”

Ben’s face fell. “No, just a plain blue one.”

“Well, I dunno,” Tom said, looking doubtful, and slapping a fresh coat of whitewash on the fence. “A blue one ain’t so much. I’d use up the whole fence for just a blue one.”

“Well, how about this—a kite, with a tail?”

Tom considered this. “A good kite?”

“The best!”

“Hmph. Is it a real kite, or one of them rag-bags you make?”

“Real kite, I tell you!”

Tom paused, regarding the fence and the kite prospect. “All right, I’ll let you whitewash a stretch of it. But mind you, you don’t daub it on too thick. I’ll be watching.”

Ben grabbed the brush greedily, and Tom sat down, taking the offered blue marble from his pocket and examining it with the air of an expert appraiser.

Presently, Henry, the butcher’s boy, came along, with meat in a tray.

“Hi, Ben! How’s it goin’?”

Ben was hard at work, sweat starting on his brow. “Headin’ for the big time, Henry.”

“What’s up? You whitewashing?” Henry sneered.

“You call this whitewashing?” Ben was offended. “This ain’t work! This is privilege!” He gave a vigorous sweep.

Henry stopped. “Privilege? What’s the big idea?”

“Well, Tom Sawyer here,” Ben said, waving the brush toward the boy leaning against the steps, “he says he’s got to do it himself, but he’s letting me have a turn for a blue marble.”

Henry scoffed. “You’re a ninny, Ben Rogers! Why, I’d thrash you for a thing like that!”

“Try it!” Ben challenged, sticking out his chin.

Henry made a movement to strike, but Tom spoke up, his voice mild and innocent:

“Now, Henry, don’t you hit him. I told him he could have a turn, but I didn’t say he could have the whole fence.”

Henry looked at the fence, a vast, imposing stretch of it. Then he looked at the brush in Ben’s hand, and a strange desire crept into him.

“Say, Tom, maybe you’d let me have a try?”

Tom sighed, as if the world was full of bothersome folk wanting favors. “Well, I dunno, Henry. I suppose if Ben’s done, you could have a little bit. But you got to give me something worth while for it.”

“I’ll give you my dead rat!” Henry offered eagerly.

Tom wrinkled his nose. “I ain’t hungry for rats today. Got a piece of stale bread somewhere. Say, how about that bright red tally I saw you with yesterday?”

Henry’s face fell. “Oh, that old thing? It ain’t got no jack in it.”

“Well, then, I reckon you can’t have a turn,” Tom said, turning back to his contemplation of the blue marble.

Henry began to plead. He begged, he cajoled, he offered his prized tin soldier, which had lost a leg and an arm. Tom was obdurate. Finally, Henry, desperate, offered his prized possession: a shiny, brass-cased pocketknife.

Tom’s eyes lit up. He examined the knife with great care.

“Well, it’s a good knife,” Tom admitted. “All right, Henry. You can have that corner there—about a foot wide. But don’t you mess up my work.”

Ben Rogers was forgotten. He stood aside, watching the proceedings with dawning horror, as Henry fell to work, while Tom, perched on a barrel, casually directed the operation and admired his brass knife.

You can download, read online, find more details of this full eBook The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Complete by Mark Twain from

And convert it to the AudioBook with any voice you like in our AI Voice AudioBook app.