ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret troubles was, that it had found a new and weighty matter to interest itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had struggled with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down the wind," but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father's house, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she should die! There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took an interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone; there was nothing but dreariness left. He put his hoop away, and his bat; there was no joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began to try all manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who are infatuated with patent medicines and all new-fangled methods of producing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in these things. When something fresh in this line came out she was in a fever, right away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never ailing, but on anybody else that came handy. She was a subscriber for all the "Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds; and the solemn ignorance they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they contained about ventilation, and how to go to bed, and how to get up, and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take, and what frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing to wear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that her health-journals of the current month customarily upset everything they had recommended the month before. She was as simple-hearted and honest as the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gathered together her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed with death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with "hell following after." But she never suspected that she was not an angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the suffering neighbors.

The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a windfall to her. She had him out at daylight every morning, stood him up in the woodshed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; then she scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to; then she rolled him up in a wet sheet and put him away under blankets till she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came through his pores" -- as Tom said.

Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy and pale and dejected. She added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths, and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to assist the water with a slim oatmeal diet and blisterplasters. She calculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up every day with quack cure-alls.

Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase filled the old lady's heart with consternation. This indifference must be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the first time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the water treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain-killer. She gave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for the result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again; for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown a wilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him.

Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that of professing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that he became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no misgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a crack in the sitting-room floor with it.

One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow cat came along, purring, eying the teaspoon avariciously, and begging for a taste. Tom said:

"Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter."

But Peter signified that he did want it.

"You better make sure."

Peter was sure.

"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain't anything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't blame anybody but your own self."

Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the Pain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and then delivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, banging against furniture, upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc. Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming his unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty hurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the flower-pots with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, peering over her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter.

"Tom, what on earth ails that cat?"

"I don't know, aunt," gasped the boy.

"Why, I never see anything like it. What did make him act so?"

"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're having a good time."

"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom apprehensive.

"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do."

"You do?"

"Yes'm."

The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized by anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift." The handle of the telltale teaspoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held it up. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the usual handle -- his ear -- and cracked his head soundly with her thimble.

"Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?"

"I done it out of pity for him -- because he hadn't any aunt."

"Hadn't any aunt! -- you numskull. What has that got to do with it?"

"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd a roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a human!"

Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing in a new light; what was cruelty to a cat might be cruelty to a boy, too. She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, and she put her hand on Tom's head and said gently:

"I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it did do you good."

Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peeping through his gravity.

"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. It done him good, too. I never see him get around so since --"

"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And you try and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take any more medicine."

Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strange thing had been occurring every day latterly. And now, as usual of late, he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with his comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem to be looking everywhere but whither he really was looking -- down the road. Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted; he gazed a moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom accosted him; and "led up" warily to opportunities for remark about Becky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched and watched, hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right one. At last frocks ceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps; he entered the empty schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frock passed in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great bound. The next instant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing, chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing handsprings, standing on his head -- doing all the heroic things he could conceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if Becky Thatcher was noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of it all; she never looked. Could it be possible that she was not aware that he was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity; came war-whooping around, snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of the schoolhouse, broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in every direction, and fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almost upsetting her -- and she turned, with her nose in the air, and he heard her say: "Mf! some people think they're mighty smart -- always showing off!"

Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushed and crestfallen

汤姆转移了注意力，不再为心中的秘密所苦恼，原因之一是，他现在感兴趣的是另一件
更重要的事情：贝基·撒切尔不来上学了。经过几天的内心斗争，汤姆想了结这桩心事，可
是没成功，结果他发现晚上自己一个人伤心地围着她家转悠。她原来是生病了，可万一要是
死了呢！想到这，他都快要发疯了。什么打仗啦，当海盗呀，他全无了兴趣。美好的生活一
去不复返，留下的尽是些烦恼。他收起铁环，球拍也被放到了一边，这些东西已经没用了，
不再能带来快乐。最担心他的是他姨妈。她马上试着想用各种药来治疗他。地姨妈这个人和
有些人一样，对于专卖药，或强身、健体等之类的保健药品，不分青红皂白都要先试为快。
只要有新的出来，她从不落下一样，一古脑拿来就试，可是她自己从不生病，所以逮着谁，
就是谁。她订了所有的医学刊物和骨相学之类的东西。里面一本正经的胡说八道简直成了她
的命根子。什么通风透气、怎样上床和起床、吃什么、喝什么、运动量多少为佳、保持什么
样的心情，还有穿什么样的衣服等等，这一切废话都被她当作至理名言。有趣的是尽管健康
杂志上的内容前后两期说得驴唇不对马嘴，忽左忽右，但她却从来没有发现过。她这人头脑
简单，心地单纯，所以极容易上当受骗。于是，她带上废话连篇的刊物和骗人的药，用比喻
的说法，就是带上死亡，骑上灰马，身后跟着魔鬼出发了。可她满以为带的是灵丹妙药，自
己是华佗再世，这下受苦受难的邻里有救了。
    时下，水疗法是个新玩意，正巧汤姆精神也不怎么样，这下可得了她的劲。早晨天一
亮，她就把汤姆叫到外边，让他在木棚里站好，然后没头没脸地给他浇上一阵凉水。她还用
毛巾像锉东西一样使劲给汤姆擦身，让他缓过来。接着她用湿床单包起汤姆，再盖上毯子直
捂得他大汗淋漓，洗净灵魂。
    用汤姆的话来说，就是“要让污泥秽水从每根毛细管中流出”。
    经过这番“好心”的折腾，那孩子却更加忧郁、更加苍白、没精打采。于是乎，她又动
用了热水浴、坐浴、淋浴，直至全身水浴法，但都无济于事。那孩子仍然看上去像口棺材，
死气沉沉。她又特别往水里加了一点燕麦和治水泡的药膏，她还像估量罐子容量一般来合计
着汤姆的用药量，每天拿些所谓的灵丹妙药给他灌上一通。
    此时此刻的汤姆对这种等同“迫害”的治疗已经麻木不仁，老太太对此惊恐万状。她要
不惜一切代价治好他的麻木不仁。她头一回听说止痛药这个名词，现在就派上了用场。她马
上买了一些，尝后觉得这下有救了。用这种药简直等于拿火烧人。她丢下水疗法和别的，一
心把希望寄托在这止痛药上。她给汤姆服了一汤匙药，然后万分焦虑地等着结果。果然见效
了，汤姆不再麻木不仁了，她的心情马上平静下来，也无忧无虑了。再瞧那孩子，突然醒过
来兴趣十足，就算老太太真地把他放在火上，也比不上他这阵子的劲头。
    汤姆觉得他该醒了，尽管姨妈的折腾让他觉得很有浪漫情调，但却缺少理智，花样多得
让人眼花缭乱。他绞尽脑汁，终于想出一个解脱的计划：假称喜欢吃止痛药。于是他时不时
地找姨妈要药吃，结果弄得她烦起来，最后她干脆让汤姆自己动手爱拿多少就拿多少，不要
再来烦她就行。要是换成希德，她完全可以放心，可这是汤姆，所以，她暗中注意药瓶的情
况。她发现药瓶的药越来越少，但想都没想到汤姆正在客厅里用这种药在补地板的裂缝。
    有一天，汤姆正在给裂缝“喂药”，这时他姨妈喂养的那只黄猫彼得咪咪地叫着走过
来，眼睛贪婪地盯着汤匙，好像是要尝一口。汤姆说：
    “彼得，要不是真想要，就别要了。”可是彼得表示它确实想要。
    “你最好别弄错了。”
    彼得拿定了主意要。
    “这可是你自找的，我就给你，我可不是小气，你要是吃了觉得不对劲，别怨别人只能
怪你自己。”
    彼得并无异议。因此汤姆撬开它的嘴，把止痛药灌下去。彼得窜出两三码远，狂叫着在
屋里转来转去。它砰的一声撞在家具上，碰翻了花瓶，弄得一塌糊涂。接着它昂起头，后腿
着地，欢快地跳来跳去，按捺不住发出高兴的声音。随后，它又在屋里狂奔乱跑，所到之
处，不是碰翻这个就是毁了那个。波莉姨妈进来时正好看见它在连翻斤斗。它最后哇地大叫
一声，从敞开的窗户一飘而出，把余下的花瓶也带了下去。老太太惊呆了，站在那儿，眼睛
从镜框上往外瞪着；而汤姆却躺在地板上笑得喘不过气来。
    “汤姆，那猫到底得了什么病？”
    “我不知道，姨妈。”他喘着气说。
    “我还没见过这样的事情，它究竟是为什么那个样子？”
    “我真的不知道，姨妈。猫快活的时候总是那个样子。”
    “是那个样子的吗？”语气有点令汤姆生畏。
    “是的，姨妈。我是这样想的。”
    “你是这样想的？”
    “是，姨妈。”
    老太太弯下腰，汤姆焦虑万分地关注着。当他看出老太太的用意时，为时已晚，因为说
明问题的那把汤匙已暴露在床帷下。波莉姨妈捡起汤匙，汤姆害怕了，垂下了眼皮。波莉姨
妈一把揪住他的耳杂把他拽起来，还用顶针狠狠地敲他头，敲得砰砰响。
    “我的小祖宗，你干吗要这样对待那个可怜的家伙，它又不会说话？”
    “我是可怜它才给它吃药的。你瞧，它又没有什么姨妈。”“你说什么，它没有姨妈！
傻瓜！那和这事有什么关系？”“关系多着呢。它要是有姨妈，那肯定会不考虑它的感情，
给它灌药烧坏它的五脏六腑不可！”
    听到这，波莉姨妈突然感到一阵难受，后悔不已。汤姆的说法让她开了窍。猫受不了，
那孩子不也同样受不了吗？她软下来，心里感到内疚。她眼睛有点湿润，手放在汤姆头上，
亲切地说：
    “汤姆，我本是好意。再说，汤姆，我那样做确实对你有好处。”
    汤姆抬起头，严肃地看着姨妈的脸，并眨着眼睛盯着她说：“我的好姨妈，你是好意，
这我晓得。我对彼得也是好意呀。那药对它也有好处。自我给它灌药以后，我再也没有看见
它的影子。”
    “哦，去你的，汤姆。别再气我了。你就不能做个听话的孩子吗？哪怕是一次也行，这
样的话，就不需要再用药了。”
    汤姆早早来到学校，人们发现，奇怪的是他最近每天都是这样。和往常一样，他没跟伙
伴们在一起玩耍，而是独自一人在校门口徘徊。
    他说自己病了，看上去也确实像生病的样子。他装出若无其事的样子四处看着。其实，
他真正关注的是那边的那条路。这时，杰夫·撒切尔跃入眼帘，汤姆喜上眉梢，他盯着看了
一会，然后失望地转过身去。等杰夫走近，汤姆主动上前同他搭讪，想俟机套出有关贝基的
情况，可是谈了一通却是白搭。汤姆只好等啊等啊，等得望眼欲穿。每当路那头出现了女孩
子模样时，他都满心欢喜，等到近处一看，不是他要等的人，他马上恨得咬牙切齿。后来，
路上踪影全无，他的希望破灭了，所以他闷闷不乐地步进空无一人的教室，坐在那里难过。
这时，汤姆看见女孩的衣服从大门口飘进来，汤姆的心怦怦直跳，他马上跑出教室，像印第
安人一样，开始登场表演。他叫着，笑着，你追我赶，甚至不顾摔断手脚，冒着生命危险跳
过栅栏，前后翻个不停或者拿大顶。总之，凡是他能想到的逞能事情，他都做了。他一边
做，一边偷眼看看贝基·撒切尔是不是看见了这一切。可是她好像一点也没看见，甚至连望
一眼都没有。这可能因为她没有注意到他在那里。于是汤姆就凑近了一些，“冲啊！杀呀”
地喊个不停。他跑着抓下一个男孩子的帽子就扔到教室的屋顶上，然后又冲向另一群孩子，
弄得他们跌跌撞撞四散开去，自己也一下子摔在贝基面前，还差点把她绊倒。贝基转过身
去，昂着头。
    汤姆听见她说：
    “哼！有的人自以为是，神气得很呢——尽是卖弄！”
    汤姆被说得脸直发烧。他爬起来，偷偷地溜了，一副垂头丧气、被斗败的样子