Приключения Тома Сойера / The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Presently the boy began to steal furtive glances at the girl. She observed it, �made a mouth’ at him and gave him the back of her head for the space of a minute. 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. Tom scrawled on his slate, �Please take it – I got more.’ The girl glanced at the words, but made no sign. 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 noncommittal attempt to see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she gave in and hesitatingly whispered:

�Let me see it.’

Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney.

Then the girl’s interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot everything else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then whispered:

�It’s nice – make a man.’

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:

�It’s a beautiful man – now make me coming along.

’

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:

�It’s ever so nice – I wish I could draw.’

�It’s easy,’ whispered Tom, �I’ll learn you.’

�Oh, will you? When?’

�At noon. Do you go home to dinner?’

�I’ll stay if you will.’

�Good – that’s a whack. What’s your name?’

�Becky Thatcher. What’s yours? Oh, I know.

It’s Thomas Sawyer.’

�That’s the name they lick me by. I’m Tom when I’m good. You call me Tom, will you?’

�Yes.’

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. Tom said:

�Oh, it ain’t anything.’

�Yes it is.’

�No it ain’t. You don’t want to see.’

�Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me.’

�You’ll tell.