THERE was something about Aunt Polly's manner, when she kissed Tom, that swept away his low spirits and made him lighthearted and happy again. He started to school and had the luck of coming upon Becky Thatcher at the head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined his manner. Without a moment's hesitation he ran to her and said:

"I acted mighty mean to-day, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, ever do that way again, as long as ever I live -- please make up, won't you?"

The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the face:

"I'll thank you to keep yourself to yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'll never speak to you again."

She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had not even presence of mind enough to say "Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until the right time to say it had gone by. So he said nothing. But he was in a fine rage, nevertheless. He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were a boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she were. He presently encountered her and delivered a stinging remark as he passed. She hurled one in return, and the angry breach was complete. It seemed to Becky, in her hot resentment, that she could hardly wait for school to "take in," she was so impatient to see Tom flogged for the injured spelling-book. If she had had any lingering notion of exposing Alfred Temple, Tom's offensive fling had driven it entirely away.

Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself. The master, Mr. Dobbins, had reached middle age with an unsatisfied ambition. The darling of his desires was, to be a doctor, but poverty had decreed that he should be nothing higher than a village schoolmaster. Every day he took a mysterious book out of his desk and absorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. He kept that book under lock and key. There was not an urchin in school but was perishing to have a glimpse of it, but the chance never came. Every boy and girl had a theory about the nature of that book; but no two theories were alike, and there was no way of getting at the facts in the case. Now, as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near the door, she noticed that the key was in the lock! It was a precious moment. She glanced around; found herself alone, and the next instant she had the book in her hands. The title-page -- Professor Somebody's Anatomy -- carried no information to her mind; so she began to turn the leaves. She came at once upon a handsomely engraved and colored frontispiece -- a human figure, stark naked. At that moment a shadow fell on the page and Tom Sawyer stepped in at the door and caught a glimpse of the picture. Becky snatched at the book to close it, and had the hard luck to tear the pictured page half down the middle. She thrust the volume into the desk, turned the key, and burst out crying with shame and vexation.

"Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be, to sneak up on a person and look at what they're looking at."

"How could I know you was looking at anything?"

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer; you know you're going to tell on me, and oh, what shall I do, what shall I do! I'll be whipped, and I never was whipped in school."

Then she stamped her little foot and said:

"Be so mean if you want to! I know something that's going to happen. You just wait and you'll see! Hateful, hateful, hateful!" -- and she flung out of the house with a new explosion of crying.

Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. Presently he said to himself:

"What a curious kind of a fool a girl is! Never been licked in school! Shucks! What's a licking! That's just like a girl -- they're so thin-skinned and chicken-hearted. Well, of course I ain't going to tell old Dobbins on this little fool, because there's other ways of getting even on her, that ain't so mean; but what of it? Old Dobbins will ask who it was tore his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll do just the way he always does -- ask first one and then t'other, and when he comes to the right girl he'll know it, without any telling. Girls' faces always tell on them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well, it's a kind of a tight place for Becky Thatcher, because there ain't any way out of it." Tom conned the thing a moment longer, and then added: "All right, though; she'd like to see me in just such a fix -- let her sweat it out!"

Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars outside. In a few moments the master arrived and school "took in." Tom did not feel a strong interest in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at the girls' side of the room Becky's face troubled him. Considering all things, he did not want to pity her, and yet it was all he could do to help it. He could get up no exultation that was really worthy the name. Presently the spelling-book discovery was made, and Tom's mind was entirely full of his own matters for a while after that. Becky roused up from her lethargy of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. She did not expect that Tom could get out of his trouble by denying that he spilt the ink on the book himself; and she was right. The denial only seemed to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she would be glad of that, and she tried to believe she was glad of it, but she found she was not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she had an impulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she made an effort and forced herself to keep still -- because, said she to herself, "he'll tell about me tearing the picture sure. I wouldn't say a word, not to save his life!"

Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all broken-hearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowingly upset the ink on the spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout -- he had denied it for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuck to the denial from principle.

A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air was drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened himself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, but seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the pupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watched his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently for a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read! Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbit look as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot his quarrel with her. Quick -- something must be done! done in a flash, too! But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention. Good! -- he had an inspiration! He would run and snatch the book, spring through the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little instant, and the chance was lost -- the master opened the volume. If Tom only had the wasted opportunity back again! Too late. There was no help for Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school. Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote even the innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten -- the master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: "Who tore this book?"

There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness continued; the master searched face after face for signs of guilt.

"Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?"

A denial. Another pause.

"Joseph Harper, did you?"

Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under the slow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of boys -- considered a while, then turned to the girls:

"Amy Lawrence?"

A shake of the head.

"Gracie Miller?"

The same sign.

"Susan Harper, did you do this?"

Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling from head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of the situation.

"Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her face -- it was white with terror] -- "did you tear -- no, look me in the face" [her hands rose in appeal] -- "did you tear this book?"

A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his feet and shouted -- "I done it!"

The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a moment, to gather his dismembered faculties; and when he stepped forward to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own act, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever administered; and also received with indifference the added cruelty of a command to remain two hours after school should be dismissed -- for he knew who would wait for him outside till his captivity was done, and not count the tedious time as loss, either.

Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple; for with shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgetting her own treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, soon, to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky's latest words lingering dreamily in his ear --

"Tom, how could you be so noble!"

 波莉姨妈吻汤姆的时候，态度有所变化，所以汤姆马上感到振作起来，心情轻松愉快。
他上学去了。半路上在草坪巷口，他有幸碰上了贝基·撒切尔，他现在情绪好了，所以态度
也来了个一百八十度大拐弯。于是他毫不犹豫地跑上前去说：
    “贝基，我很抱歉，今天那样做实在对不起人。你放心，就是死了，我也不会再那样
了。我们和好吧！”
    贝基停下脚步，一副鄙视的样子盯着他。
    “托马斯·索亚先生，你自己好自为之吧，我这先谢谢你了。我不会再跟你讲话的。”
    说完，她昂起头走了。汤姆一下子被说懵了，等他转过神来要反驳一声“去你的吧，自
以为是小姐”时，为时已晚。他虽然没说什么，却窝了一肚子的火。他没精打采地走进校
园，心里想贝基要是个男孩子，他非得很很地揍她一顿不可。两人在随后的相遇中，汤姆说
了句刺耳的话就走了，贝基也回敬了一句，这一下两人算是彻底地决裂了。盛怒之下，贝基
想起了汤姆书上的墨水，她好像急不可耐，盼望着汤姆早一点受到惩罚。她本来还有点犹豫
不决，说不定还想要揭发那是阿尔弗雷德·邓波尔干的坏事，可汤姆那句刺耳的话一下子打
消了贝基的这个念头。
    真是个可怜的姑娘，她就要大祸临头，自身难保了却一无所知。他们的老师，杜宾斯先
生，虽然已到而立之年却心愿未了。他最热衷于当医生，可是贫穷却注定了他当不了别的美
差，只能做一名乡村教师。他天天从讲台里拿出一本神秘的书，乘没课要讲的时候就潜心研
读。平常，他总是小心翼翼地把那本书锁好。学校里那些调皮的家伙没有一个不想看下那本
神秘的书，那怕瞟一眼也好，可总没有机会。至于那本书的内容，孩子们七嘴八舌，各抒己
见，但都无法得到证实。讲台离门不远，贝基从旁边走过时恰好看到钥匙还在锁孔上晃悠。
这可是看一上眼的好机会，千载难逢。她环顾回周，发现没有别的人在场，于是马上拿起那
本书，只见扉页上写着“无名式教授解剖学”几个字。她没看出什么名堂来，于是就继续往
下翻。刚一打开下一页，一张精制的彩色裸体图立即映入眼帘。与此同时，汤姆·索亚从门
口进来，一眼瞥见了那张图。贝基一把抓起书想把它合上，可是不幸拦腰把那张图撕了一
半。她马上把书扔进抽屉，锁上锁，又羞又恼地大哭起来。
    “汤姆·索亚，你真卑鄙，偷看别人，还偷看人家正在看的东西。”
    “我怎么知道你在看什么东西呢？”
    “汤姆·索亚，你应该感到害臊。你会告发我的，这下我该怎么办才好呢？我要挨鞭笞
了，我可从没挨过鞭笞呀！”
    接着她跺着小脚说：
    “你想耍卑鄙，那就随你的便！不过，你可要出事了。你等着瞧吧！可恶，可恶，真可
恶！”接着，她一顿大哭，冲出了教室。
    汤姆被贝基劈头盖脸地说了一通，弄得他丈二和尚摸不着头脑，他站在那里不知所措。
随后，他自言自语地说：
    “女孩子真是傻得出奇。说什么从来没挨过鞭子打！呸！哪有这回事！挨打算不了什
么！女孩子就是这样——脸皮薄，胆小如鼠。不过，我当然不会把这事向杜宾斯老头讲。要
想和她算帐，方法有的是，用不着干这种告密的勾当。可那又怎么样呢？杜宾斯老头照样会
查出来是谁干的。他问下书是谁撕的，没人答应。于是他会接照老习惯挨个地问，等问到这
个女孩子，他就全明白了。女孩子总是沉不住气，表情总能说明问题。她们意志薄弱，这一
回她要挨揍了。贝基呀，贝基，你这一回在劫难逃。”汤姆又仔细琢磨了一会，然后想：
“得，就这样吧，你不是想看我的笑话吗，那你就傻等着瞧吧，
    有你好受的。”
    汤姆跑到外面和那群嬉戏的同学们玩了不一会，老师就来上课了。汤姆并不十分想学
习。他只要朝女生的那边偷看上一眼，贝基的神情就会令他不安。他左思右想，就是不想同
情她，但却愿意起点作用。他一点都激动不起来。汤姆很快发现了拼音课本上的墨迹，于是
有一段时间，他一直不能自拔，老是想着自己的事，显得郁郁不欢。贝基这下来了劲头，对
事态的发展表现出了强烈的兴趣。她想汤姆不承认是自己弄脏了书，这也不能开脱他，她的
预料果然不错。结果汤姆反倒把事情给弄糟了。贝基想她会为此而感到确实高兴，但却吃不
准。后来眼看着汤姆情形不妙时，她真想一古脑地站出来揭发那墨水是阿尔弗雷德·邓波尔
泼的。可她又竭力控制着，强迫自己保待沉默，因为她心里想：“他会告发我，把我撕老师
书的事说出去。我现在最好什么也别说，不管他的死活。”
    汤姆挨了鞭笞，回到座位上，但一点也不伤心。他想在和同学们的打闹中，他有可能不
知不觉地把墨水瓶碰翻，弄脏自己的书。他否认是自己干的，一来是为了走过场；二来也是
惯例；另外死也不承认自己有错，那是为了坚持原则。
    一个小时过去了，老师坐在他的座位上打盹，教室里一片嗡嗡的读书声令人困乏。渐渐
地，杜宾斯先生挺直身子，打着哈欠，然后打开抽屉的锁，可手伸出半截又停下来，犹豫不
决。大多数学生都漫不经心地抬起头看了一眼，但其中有两个人特别关注老师的一举一动。
杜宾斯先生把手伸进抽屉随便地摸了一会就拿出书，身体往椅子一靠看起来。汤姆瞥了贝基
一眼。她就像一只被猎人追捕的兔子，当猎枪瞄准它的头部时，一副绝望无救的可怜相，他
立刻忘掉了他们之间的争吵。得采取行动，马上就干，越快越好。常言说得好，急中生智，
可汤姆这回却束手无策，对，就这么办。他突然来了灵感：他要冲上去，一把从老师手里抢
过书，夺门而逃。可是他一走神，就这么稍一犹豫的时候，老师翻开了书。汤姆坐失了良
机，他十分后悔。这下完了，干什么也来不及了，想帮的忙也帮不上了。老师打开书后马上
面朝大家。见老师盯着他们，大家都低下了头，就连没有犯错误的同学也都吓得不得了。大
约有十秒钟，教室里一片寂静。老师的气是越来越大，他终于开了腔：
    “这书是谁撕的？”
    教室里鸦雀无声，静的连根针掉到地上都能听见。老师见无人应答，就挨个检查，看到
底是谁撕了书。
    “本杰明·罗杰斯，书是你撕的吗？”
    老师得到的是否定，他停了一会问道：
    “约瑟夫·哈帕，是你干的？”
    约瑟夫否认是他干的。老师不急不忙地问了这个又问那个。汤姆越来越紧张，显得烦躁
不安。老师问完男生，稍加思索就转向女生。
    “艾美·劳伦斯是你吗？”
    她同样也摇了摇头。
    “苏珊·哈帕，是你干的吗？”
    又是一个否认。下一个就该问到贝基·撒切尔了。汤姆十分紧张，他意识到情况不妙，
吓得他从头到脚全身发抖。“瑞贝卡·撒切尔”（贝基的学名），”（汤姆向她脸上瞟了一
眼，见她吓得脸色苍白）——“是你撕……不，看着我的眼睛。”（她承认地举起手来）—
—“是你撕坏了这本书吗？”
    这时，汤姆的脑海里雷电般闪出一个念头，他猛然起身，大声说道：“是我干的！”全
班同学迷惑不解地盯着汤姆，觉得他行为愚蠢，令人不可思议。汤姆站了一会好像是在镇定
自己，然后走上前去接受惩罚。汤姆发现那个可怜的姑娘贝基眼里先是流露出吃惊，然后是
感激，最后是敬慕之情，他觉得为此就是挨上一百鞭也是值得的。汤姆也为自己的义举感到
脸上有光，因此在遭受杜宾斯先生有史以来最严酷的鞭笞时，他哼都没哼一声，另外放学
后，他还得被罚站两小时。对这一残忍的做法，他也不在乎，因为他心里有数，外面会有个
人心甘情愿地一直在等上他两个小时。
    当天晚上，汤姆临上床睡觉前合计着如何报复阿尔弗雷德·邓波尔。贝基把自己的背叛
以及泼墨水的事情全盘托出了。可是不久，汤姆的思绪转到一些美滋滋的事情上。想着想
着，汤姆耳边朦朦胧胧地响起了贝基刚才说过的一句话：“汤姆，你思想怎么会这样高尚的
呀！”就这样，他终于进入了梦乡