strconv
testdata
+
+ testdata
+ +
text
template
testdata
var (
digits = mustLoadFile("testdata/e.txt.bz2")
- twain = mustLoadFile("testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt.bz2")
+ newton = mustLoadFile("testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt.bz2")
random = mustLoadFile("testdata/random.data.bz2")
)
}
func BenchmarkDecodeDigits(b *testing.B) { benchmarkDecode(b, digits) }
-func BenchmarkDecodeTwain(b *testing.B) { benchmarkDecode(b, twain) }
+func BenchmarkDecodeNewton(b *testing.B) { benchmarkDecode(b, newton) }
func BenchmarkDecodeRand(b *testing.B) { benchmarkDecode(b, random) }
[...]int{100018, 50650, 50960, 51150, 50930, 50790, 50790, 50790, 50790, 50790, 43683},
},
{
- "../testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt",
- "Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer",
- [...]int{407330, 187598, 180361, 172974, 169160, 163476, 160936, 160506, 160295, 160295, 233460},
+ "../../testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt",
+ "Isaac.Newton-Opticks",
+ [...]int{567248, 218338, 198211, 193152, 181100, 175427, 175427, 173597, 173422, 173422, 325240},
},
}
func TestWriterPersistentError(t *testing.T) {
t.Parallel()
- d, err := ioutil.ReadFile("../testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt")
+ d, err := ioutil.ReadFile("../../testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt")
if err != nil {
t.Fatalf("ReadFile: %v", err)
}
// does not repeat, but there are only 10 possible digits, so it should be
// reasonably compressible.
{"Digits", "../testdata/e.txt"},
- // Twain is Mark Twain's classic English novel.
- {"Twain", "../testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt"},
+ // Newton is Isaac Newtons's educational text on Opticks.
+ {"Newton", "../../testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt"},
}
func BenchmarkDecode(b *testing.B) {
+++ /dev/null
-Produced by David Widger. The previous edition was updated by Jose
-Menendez.
-
-
-
-
-
- THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER
- BY
- MARK TWAIN
- (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
-
-
-
-
- P R E F A C E
-
-MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one or
-two were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who were
-schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, but
-not from an individual--he is a combination of the characteristics of
-three boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order of
-architecture.
-
-The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children
-and slaves in the West at the period of this story--that is to say,
-thirty or forty years ago.
-
-Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and
-girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account,
-for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what
-they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked,
-and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in.
-
- THE AUTHOR.
-
-HARTFORD, 1876.
-
-
-
- T O M S A W Y E R
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-"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--"
-
-She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching
-under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the
-punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat.
-
-"I never did see the beat of that boy!"
-
-She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the
-tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom.
-So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and
-shouted:
-
-"Y-o-u-u TOM!"
-
-There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to
-seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight.
-
-"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in
-there?"
-
-"Nothing."
-
-"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS that
-truck?"
-
-"I don't know, aunt."
-
-"Well, I know. It's jam--that's what it is. Forty times I've said if
-you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch."
-
-The switch hovered in the air--the peril was desperate--
-
-"My! Look behind you, aunt!"
-
-The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The
-lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and
-disappeared over it.
-
-His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle
-laugh.
-
-"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricks
-enough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But old
-fools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks,
-as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days,
-and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just how
-long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he
-can make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down
-again and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy,
-and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile
-the child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for
-us both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's my
-own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash
-him, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so,
-and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, man
-that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the
-Scripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, *
-and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him
-work, to-morrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work
-Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more
-than he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him,
-or I'll be the ruination of the child."
-
-Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home
-barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day's
-wood and split the kindlings before supper--at least he was there in
-time to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the
-work. Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already
-through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a
-quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways.
-
-While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity
-offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and
-very deep--for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like
-many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she
-was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she
-loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low
-cunning. Said she:
-
-"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?"
-
-"Yes'm."
-
-"Powerful warm, warn't it?"
-
-"Yes'm."
-
-"Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?"
-
-A bit of a scare shot through Tom--a touch of uncomfortable suspicion.
-He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said:
-
-"No'm--well, not very much."
-
-The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said:
-
-"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect
-that she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing
-that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew
-where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:
-
-"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?"
-
-Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of
-circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new
-inspiration:
-
-"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to
-pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!"
-
-The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His
-shirt collar was securely sewed.
-
-"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey
-and been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a
-singed cat, as the saying is--better'n you look. THIS time."
-
-She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom
-had stumbled into obedient conduct for once.
-
-But Sidney said:
-
-"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread,
-but it's black."
-
-"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!"
-
-But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:
-
-"Siddy, I'll lick you for that."
-
-In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into
-the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them--one needle
-carried white thread and the other black. He said:
-
-"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimes
-she sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to
-geeminy she'd stick to one or t'other--I can't keep the run of 'em. But
-I bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!"
-
-He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very
-well though--and loathed him.
-
-Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles.
-Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him
-than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore
-them down and drove them out of his mind for the time--just as men's
-misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This
-new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just
-acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed.
-It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble,
-produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short
-intervals in the midst of the music--the reader probably remembers how
-to do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave
-him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full
-of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an
-astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet--no doubt, as far as
-strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with
-the boy, not the astronomer.
-
-The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom
-checked his whistle. A stranger was before him--a boy a shade larger
-than himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressive
-curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy
-was well dressed, too--well dressed on a week-day. This was simply
-astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth
-roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes
-on--and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of
-ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The
-more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his
-nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed
-to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved--but
-only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all
-the time. Finally Tom said:
-
-"I can lick you!"
-
-"I'd like to see you try it."
-
-"Well, I can do it."
-
-"No you can't, either."
-
-"Yes I can."
-
-"No you can't."
-
-"I can."
-
-"You can't."
-
-"Can!"
-
-"Can't!"
-
-An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:
-
-"What's your name?"
-
-"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe."
-
-"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business."
-
-"Well why don't you?"
-
-"If you say much, I will."
-
-"Much--much--MUCH. There now."
-
-"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with
-one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to."
-
-"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it."
-
-"Well I WILL, if you fool with me."
-
-"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix."
-
-"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!"
-
-"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it
-off--and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs."
-
-"You're a liar!"
-
-"You're another."
-
-"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up."
-
-"Aw--take a walk!"
-
-"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a
-rock off'n your head."
-
-"Oh, of COURSE you will."
-
-"Well I WILL."
-
-"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for?
-Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid."
-
-"I AIN'T afraid."
-
-"You are."
-
-"I ain't."
-
-"You are."
-
-Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently
-they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:
-
-"Get away from here!"
-
-"Go away yourself!"
-
-"I won't."
-
-"I won't either."
-
-So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and
-both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with
-hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both
-were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution,
-and Tom said:
-
-"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he
-can thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too."
-
-"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger
-than he is--and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too."
-[Both brothers were imaginary.]
-
-"That's a lie."
-
-"YOUR saying so don't make it so."
-
-Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
-
-"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand
-up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep."
-
-The new boy stepped over promptly, and said:
-
-"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it."
-
-"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out."
-
-"Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?"
-
-"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it."
-
-The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out
-with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boys
-were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; and
-for the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and
-clothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and covered
-themselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and
-through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and
-pounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he.
-
-The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage.
-
-"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on.
-
-At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up
-and said:
-
-"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next
-time."
-
-The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing,
-snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head and
-threatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out."
-To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, and
-as soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw
-it and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like
-an antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he
-lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the
-enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the
-window and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called
-Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went
-away; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy.
-
-He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in
-at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt;
-and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn
-his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in
-its firmness.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-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.
-
-Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a
-long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and
-a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board
-fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a
-burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost
-plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant
-whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed
-fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at
-the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from
-the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but
-now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at
-the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there
-waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling,
-fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only
-a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of
-water under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go after
-him. Tom said:
-
-"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some."
-
-Jim shook his head and said:
-
-"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis
-water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars
-Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend
-to my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'."
-
-"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always
-talks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't
-ever know."
-
-"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n
-me. 'Deed she would."
-
-"SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with her
-thimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but
-talk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you
-a marvel. I'll give you a white alley!"
-
-Jim began to waver.
-
-"White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw."
-
-"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful
-'fraid ole missis--"
-
-"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe."
-
-Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put down
-his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing
-interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was
-flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was
-whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field
-with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye.
-
-But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had
-planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys
-would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and
-they would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the very
-thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and
-examined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an
-exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an
-hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his
-pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark
-and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a
-great, magnificent inspiration.
-
-He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in
-sight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been
-dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that his
-heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and
-giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned
-ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As
-he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned
-far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious
-pomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, and
-considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and
-captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself
-standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them:
-
-"Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he
-drew up slowly toward the sidewalk.
-
-"Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and
-stiffened down his sides.
-
-"Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow!
-Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles--for it was
-representing a forty-foot wheel.
-
-"Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-lingling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!"
-The left hand began to describe circles.
-
-"Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead
-on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow!
-Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! LIVELY now!
-Come--out with your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turn
-round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let her
-go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!"
-(trying the gauge-cocks).
-
-Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben
-stared a moment and then said: "Hi-YI! YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you!"
-
-No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then
-he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as
-before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the
-apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said:
-
-"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?"
-
-Tom wheeled suddenly and said:
-
-"Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing."
-
-"Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of
-course you'd druther WORK--wouldn't you? Course you would!"
-
-Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said:
-
-"What do you call work?"
-
-"Why, ain't THAT work?"
-
-Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly:
-
-"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom
-Sawyer."
-
-"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?"
-
-The brush continued to move.
-
-"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get
-a chance to whitewash a fence every day?"
-
-That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom
-swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the
-effect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Ben
-watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more
-absorbed. Presently he said:
-
-"Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little."
-
-Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:
-
-"No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's
-awful particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know
---but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes,
-she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very
-careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two
-thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done."
-
-"No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'd
-let YOU, if you was me, Tom."
-
-"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted to
-do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't
-let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this
-fence and anything was to happen to it--"
-
-"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll give
-you the core of my apple."
-
-"Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--"
-
-"I'll give you ALL of it!"
-
-Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his
-heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in
-the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by,
-dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more
-innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every
-little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time
-Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for
-a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in
-for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on,
-hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being
-a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling
-in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles,
-part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a
-spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk,
-a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six
-fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a
-dog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of
-orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash.
-
-He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company
---and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out
-of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village.
-
-Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He
-had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely,
-that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only
-necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great
-and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have
-comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do,
-and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And
-this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers
-or performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or
-climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in
-England who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles
-on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them
-considerable money; but if they were offered wages for the service,
-that would turn it into work and then they would resign.
-
-The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place
-in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to
-report.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-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?"
-
-"What, a'ready? How much have you done?"
-
-"It's all done, aunt."
-
-"Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it."
-
-"I ain't, aunt; it IS all done."
-
-Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see
-for herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent.
-of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed,
-and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even
-a streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable.
-She said:
-
-"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you're
-a mind to, Tom." And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "But
-it's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long
-and play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you."
-
-She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took
-him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to
-him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a
-treat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort.
-And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" a
-doughnut.
-
-Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway
-that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and
-the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a
-hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties
-and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect,
-and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general
-thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at
-peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his
-black thread and getting him into trouble.
-
-Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by
-the back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond the
-reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square
-of the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for
-conflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of
-these armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These
-two great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that being
-better suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminence
-and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through
-aides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and
-hard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged,
-the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the
-necessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line and
-marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone.
-
-As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new
-girl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair
-plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroidered
-pantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A
-certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a
-memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction;
-he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor
-little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had
-confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest
-boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time
-she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is
-done.
-
-He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she
-had discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present,
-and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to
-win her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some
-time; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous
-gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl
-was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and
-leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer.
-She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom
-heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face
-lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment
-before she disappeared.
-
-The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and
-then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as if
-he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction.
-Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his
-nose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side,
-in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally
-his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he
-hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But
-only for a minute--only while he could button the flower inside his
-jacket, next his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not
-much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway.
-
-He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing
-off," as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tom
-comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some
-window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode
-home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions.
-
-All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered
-"what had got into the child." He took a good scolding about clodding
-Sid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar
-under his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said:
-
-"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it."
-
-"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into
-that sugar if I warn't watching you."
-
-Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his
-immunity, reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom which
-was wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped
-and broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even
-controlled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would
-not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly
-still till she asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and
-there would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model
-"catch it." He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold
-himself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreck
-discharging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said to
-himself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling on
-the floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom cried
-out:
-
-"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?--Sid broke it!"
-
-Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But
-when she got her tongue again, she only said:
-
-"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some
-other audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough."
-
-Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something
-kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into a
-confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that.
-So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart.
-Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart
-his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the
-consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice
-of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then,
-through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured
-himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching
-one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and
-die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured
-himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and
-his sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and how
-her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back
-her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would lie
-there cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whose
-griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos
-of these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to
-choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he
-winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a
-luxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear
-to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it;
-it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin
-Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an
-age-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved in
-clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in
-at the other.
-
-He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought
-desolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the
-river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and
-contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while,
-that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without
-undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought
-of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily
-increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she
-knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms
-around his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all
-the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable
-suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it
-up in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he
-rose up sighing and departed in the darkness.
-
-About half-past nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted street
-to where the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fell
-upon his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon the
-curtain of a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? He
-climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till
-he stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion;
-then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon
-his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor
-wilted flower. And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with no
-shelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the
-death-damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over him
-when the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she looked
-out upon the glad morning, and oh! would she drop one little tear upon
-his poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a bright
-young life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down?
-
-The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned the
-holy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains!
-
-The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz
-as of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a sound
-as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the
-fence and shot away in the gloom.
-
-Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying his
-drenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if he
-had any dim idea of making any "references to allusions," he thought
-better of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye.
-
-Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made
-mental note of the omission.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful
-village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family
-worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid
-courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of
-originality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter
-of the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai.
-
-Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get
-his verses." Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all his
-energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the
-Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter.
-At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson,
-but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human
-thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary
-took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through
-the fog:
-
-"Blessed are the--a--a--"
-
-"Poor"--
-
-"Yes--poor; blessed are the poor--a--a--"
-
-"In spirit--"
-
-"In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for they--they--"
-
-"THEIRS--"
-
-"For THEIRS. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom
-of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they--they--"
-
-"Sh--"
-
-"For they--a--"
-
-"S, H, A--"
-
-"For they S, H--Oh, I don't know what it is!"
-
-"SHALL!"
-
-"Oh, SHALL! for they shall--for they shall--a--a--shall mourn--a--a--
-blessed are they that shall--they that--a--they that shall mourn, for
-they shall--a--shall WHAT? Why don't you tell me, Mary?--what do you
-want to be so mean for?"
-
-"Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't
-do that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom,
-you'll manage it--and if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice.
-There, now, that's a good boy."
-
-"All right! What is it, Mary, tell me what it is."
-
-"Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice."
-
-"You bet you that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again."
-
-And he did "tackle it again"--and under the double pressure of
-curiosity and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that he
-accomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new "Barlow"
-knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that
-swept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the knife would
-not cut anything, but it was a "sure-enough" Barlow, and there was
-inconceivable grandeur in that--though where the Western boys ever got
-the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its
-injury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom
-contrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin
-on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday-school.
-
-Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went
-outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then he
-dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves;
-poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the
-kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the
-door. But Mary removed the towel and said:
-
-"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurt
-you."
-
-Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time
-he stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a big
-breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes
-shut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony
-of suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from
-the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped
-short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line
-there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in
-front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she
-was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of
-color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls
-wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately
-smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered his
-hair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, and
-his own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of
-his clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two years--they
-were simply called his "other clothes"--and so by that we know the
-size of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed
-himself; she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned his
-vast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned
-him with his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and
-uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for there
-was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He
-hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she
-coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought them
-out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do
-everything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively:
-
-"Please, Tom--that's a good boy."
-
-So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three
-children set out for Sunday-school--a place that Tom hated with his
-whole heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it.
-
-Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then church
-service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon
-voluntarily, and the other always remained too--for stronger reasons.
-The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three
-hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort
-of pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom
-dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade:
-
-"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"What'll you take for her?"
-
-"What'll you give?"
-
-"Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook."
-
-"Less see 'em."
-
-Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands.
-Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and
-some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other
-boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or
-fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm of
-clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a
-quarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave,
-elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a
-boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy
-turned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear
-him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's whole
-class were of a pattern--restless, noisy, and troublesome. When they
-came to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses
-perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried
-through, and each got his reward--in small blue tickets, each with a
-passage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses of
-the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be
-exchanged for it; ten red tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow
-tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible (worth forty
-cents in those easy times) to the pupil. How many of my readers would
-have the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, even
-for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way--it
-was the patient work of two years--and a boy of German parentage had
-won four or five. He once recited three thousand verses without
-stopping; but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great, and
-he was little better than an idiot from that day forth--a grievous
-misfortune for the school, for on great occasions, before company, the
-superintendent (as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy come out
-and "spread himself." Only the older pupils managed to keep their
-tickets and stick to their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, and
-so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthy
-circumstance; the successful pupil was so great and conspicuous for
-that day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired with a fresh
-ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom's
-mental stomach had never really hungered for one of those prizes, but
-unquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the glory
-and the eclat that came with it.
-
-In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with
-a closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its
-leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school superintendent
-makes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is as
-necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer
-who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert
---though why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet of
-music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a
-slim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair;
-he wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached his
-ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his
-mouth--a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning
-of the whole body when a side view was required; his chin was propped
-on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note,
-and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the
-fashion of the day, like sleigh-runners--an effect patiently and
-laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes
-pressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest
-of mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacred
-things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly
-matters, that unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had
-acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. He
-began after this fashion:
-
-"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty
-as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There
---that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see
-one little girl who is looking out of the window--I am afraid she
-thinks I am out there somewhere--perhaps up in one of the trees making
-a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you
-how good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces
-assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good." And
-so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the
-oration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar
-to us all.
-
-The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights
-and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings
-and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases
-of isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every
-sound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and
-the conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent
-gratitude.
-
-A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which
-was more or less rare--the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher,
-accompanied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-aged
-gentleman with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless
-the latter's wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless
-and full of chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too--he could
-not meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But
-when he saw this small new-comer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in
-a moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might
---cuffing boys, pulling hair, making faces--in a word, using every art
-that seemed likely to fascinate a girl and win her applause. His
-exaltation had but one alloy--the memory of his humiliation in this
-angel's garden--and that record in sand was fast washing out, under
-the waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now.
-
-The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr.
-Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The
-middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage--no less a one
-than the county judge--altogether the most august creation these
-children had ever looked upon--and they wondered what kind of material
-he was made of--and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half
-afraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away--so
-he had travelled, and seen the world--these very eyes had looked upon
-the county court-house--which was said to have a tin roof. The awe
-which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence
-and the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher,
-brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to
-be familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would
-have been music to his soul to hear the whisperings:
-
-"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say--look! he's a going to
-shake hands with him--he IS shaking hands with him! By jings, don't you
-wish you was Jeff?"
-
-Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official
-bustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments,
-discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a
-target. The librarian "showed off"--running hither and thither with his
-arms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that
-insect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off"
---bending sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, lifting
-pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good ones
-lovingly. The young gentlemen teachers "showed off" with small
-scoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention to
-discipline--and most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business up
-at the library, by the pulpit; and it was business that frequently had
-to be done over again two or three times (with much seeming vexation).
-The little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys
-"showed off" with such diligence that the air was thick with paper wads
-and the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat and
-beamed a majestic judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himself
-in the sun of his own grandeur--for he was "showing off," too.
-
-There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy
-complete, and that was a chance to deliver a Bible-prize and exhibit a
-prodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough
---he had been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given
-worlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind.
-
-And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward
-with nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and
-demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters
-was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten
-years. But there was no getting around it--here were the certified
-checks, and they were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevated
-to a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was
-announced from headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of the
-decade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero
-up to the judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels to
-gaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy--but
-those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too
-late that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by
-trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling
-whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes
-of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass.
-
-The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the
-superintendent could pump up under the circumstances; but it lacked
-somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him
-that there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light,
-perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused two
-thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises--a dozen would
-strain his capacity, without a doubt.
-
-Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in
-her face--but he wouldn't look. She wondered; then she was just a grain
-troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went--came again; she watched;
-a furtive glance told her worlds--and then her heart broke, and she was
-jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom
-most of all (she thought).
-
-Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath
-would hardly come, his heart quaked--partly because of the awful
-greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would
-have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The
-Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, and
-asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out:
-
-"Tom."
-
-"Oh, no, not Tom--it is--"
-
-"Thomas."
-
-"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very
-well. But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won't
-you?"
-
-"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say
-sir. You mustn't forget your manners."
-
-"Thomas Sawyer--sir."
-
-"That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow.
-Two thousand verses is a great many--very, very great many. And you
-never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; for
-knowledge is worth more than anything there is in the world; it's what
-makes great men and good men; you'll be a great man and a good man
-yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all
-owing to the precious Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood--it's all
-owing to my dear teachers that taught me to learn--it's all owing to
-the good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and
-gave me a beautiful Bible--a splendid elegant Bible--to keep and have
-it all for my own, always--it's all owing to right bringing up! That is
-what you will say, Thomas--and you wouldn't take any money for those
-two thousand verses--no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind
-telling me and this lady some of the things you've learned--no, I know
-you wouldn't--for we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no
-doubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us
-the names of the first two that were appointed?"
-
-Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed,
-now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters' heart sank within him. He said to
-himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest
-question--why DID the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak up
-and say:
-
-"Answer the gentleman, Thomas--don't be afraid."
-
-Tom still hung fire.
-
-"Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first
-two disciples were--"
-
-"DAVID AND GOLIAH!"
-
-Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-ABOUT half-past ten the cracked bell of the small church began to
-ring, and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon.
-The Sunday-school children distributed themselves about the house and
-occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt
-Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her--Tom being placed
-next the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open
-window and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd
-filed up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better
-days; the mayor and his wife--for they had a mayor there, among other
-unnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglass, fair,
-smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, her
-hill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and
-much the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg
-could boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyer
-Riverson, the new notable from a distance; next the belle of the
-village, followed by a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked young
-heart-breakers; then all the young clerks in town in a body--for they
-had stood in the vestibule sucking their cane-heads, a circling wall of
-oiled and simpering admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet;
-and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful
-care of his mother as if she were cut glass. He always brought his
-mother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys all
-hated him, he was so good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them"
-so much. His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as
-usual on Sundays--accidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he looked
-upon boys who had as snobs.
-
-The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more,
-to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell upon the
-church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the
-choir in the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered all
-through service. There was once a church choir that was not ill-bred,
-but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago,
-and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was in
-some foreign country.
-
-The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in
-a peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country.
-His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached
-a certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost
-word and then plunged down as if from a spring-board:
-
- Shall I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow'ry BEDS of ease,
-
- Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro' BLOODY seas?
-
-He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he was
-always called upon to read poetry; and when he was through, the ladies
-would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps,
-and "wall" their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Words
-cannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortal
-earth."
-
-After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into
-a bulletin-board, and read off "notices" of meetings and societies and
-things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of
-doom--a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities,
-away here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there is
-to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it.
-
-And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went
-into details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the
-church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself;
-for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United
-States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the
-President; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed
-by stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of
-European monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light
-and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear
-withal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed with
-a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace
-and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a
-grateful harvest of good. Amen.
-
-There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat
-down. The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer,
-he only endured it--if he even did that much. He was restive all
-through it; he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously
---for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of old, and the
-clergyman's regular route over it--and when a little trifle of new
-matter was interlarded, his ear detected it and his whole nature
-resented it; he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the
-midst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of
-him and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands together,
-embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that
-it seemed to almost part company with the body, and the slender thread
-of a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings with its hind legs
-and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coat-tails; going
-through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectly
-safe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom's hands itched to grab for
-it they did not dare--he believed his soul would be instantly destroyed
-if he did such a thing while the prayer was going on. But with the
-closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward; and the
-instant the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt
-detected the act and made him let it go.
-
-The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through
-an argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod
---and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone
-and thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be
-hardly worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; after
-church he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew
-anything else about the discourse. However, this time he was really
-interested for a little while. The minister made a grand and moving
-picture of the assembling together of the world's hosts at the
-millennium when the lion and the lamb should lie down together and a
-little child should lead them. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of
-the great spectacle were lost upon the boy; he only thought of the
-conspicuousness of the principal character before the on-looking
-nations; his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that he
-wished he could be that child, if it was a tame lion.
-
-Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed.
-Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was
-a large black beetle with formidable jaws--a "pinchbug," he called it.
-It was in a percussion-cap box. The first thing the beetle did was to
-take him by the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle went
-floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt finger
-went into the boy's mouth. The beetle lay there working its helpless
-legs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it was
-safe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon found
-relief in the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodle
-dog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and
-the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle;
-the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize; walked
-around it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again;
-grew bolder, and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made a
-gingerly snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and another;
-began to enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetle
-between his paws, and continued his experiments; grew weary at last,
-and then indifferent and absent-minded. His head nodded, and little by
-little his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. There
-was a sharp yelp, a flirt of the poodle's head, and the beetle fell a
-couple of yards away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboring
-spectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind
-fans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog looked
-foolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart,
-too, and a craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a
-wary attack on it again; jumping at it from every point of a circle,
-lighting with his fore-paws within an inch of the creature, making even
-closer snatches at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his
-ears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, after a while; tried
-to amuse himself with a fly but found no relief; followed an ant
-around, with his nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that;
-yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then
-there was a wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up the
-aisle; the yelps continued, and so did the dog; he crossed the house in
-front of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; he crossed before the
-doors; he clamored up the home-stretch; his anguish grew with his
-progress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in its orbit
-with the gleam and the speed of light. At last the frantic sufferer
-sheered from its course, and sprang into its master's lap; he flung it
-out of the window, and the voice of distress quickly thinned away and
-died in the distance.
-
-By this time the whole church was red-faced and suffocating with
-suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. The
-discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all
-possibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravest
-sentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst of
-unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pew-back, as if the poor
-parson had said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief to
-the whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the benediction
-pronounced.
-
-Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there
-was some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of
-variety in it. He had but one marring thought; he was willing that the
-dog should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright
-in him to carry it off.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found
-him so--because it began another week's slow suffering in school. He
-generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening
-holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much
-more odious.
-
-Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was
-sick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague
-possibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he
-investigated again. This time he thought he could detect colicky
-symptoms, and he began to encourage them with considerable hope. But
-they soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected
-further. Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth
-was loose. This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a
-"starter," as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came
-into court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that
-would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the
-present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and
-then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that
-laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him
-lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the
-sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know the
-necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it,
-so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit.
-
-But Sid slept on unconscious.
-
-Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe.
-
-No result from Sid.
-
-Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and
-then swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans.
-
-Sid snored on.
-
-Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This course
-worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then
-brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at
-Tom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said:
-
-"Tom! Say, Tom!" [No response.] "Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter,
-Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously.
-
-Tom moaned out:
-
-"Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me."
-
-"Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie."
-
-"No--never mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody."
-
-"But I must! DON'T groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been this
-way?"
-
-"Hours. Ouch! Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me."
-
-"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, DON'T! It makes my
-flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?"
-
-"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done
-to me. When I'm gone--"
-
-"Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tom--oh, don't. Maybe--"
-
-"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you
-give my window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that's
-come to town, and tell her--"
-
-But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in
-reality, now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his
-groans had gathered quite a genuine tone.
-
-Sid flew down-stairs and said:
-
-"Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!"
-
-"Dying!"
-
-"Yes'm. Don't wait--come quick!"
-
-"Rubbage! I don't believe it!"
-
-But she fled up-stairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels.
-And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached
-the bedside she gasped out:
-
-"You, Tom! Tom, what's the matter with you?"
-
-"Oh, auntie, I'm--"
-
-"What's the matter with you--what is the matter with you, child?"
-
-"Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!"
-
-The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a
-little, then did both together. This restored her and she said:
-
-"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense and
-climb out of this."
-
-The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt a
-little foolish, and he said:
-
-"Aunt Polly, it SEEMED mortified, and it hurt so I never minded my
-tooth at all."
-
-"Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with your tooth?"
-
-"One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful."
-
-"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth.
-Well--your tooth IS loose, but you're not going to die about that.
-Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen."
-
-Tom said:
-
-"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wish
-I may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stay
-home from school."
-
-"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought
-you'd get to stay home from school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I love
-you so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart
-with your outrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were
-ready. The old lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's tooth
-with a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the
-chunk of fire and suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The
-tooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now.
-
-But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school
-after breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in
-his upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and
-admirable way. He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the
-exhibition; and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre of
-fascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly
-without an adherent, and shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, and
-he said with a disdain which he did not feel that it wasn't anything to
-spit like Tom Sawyer; but another boy said, "Sour grapes!" and he
-wandered away a dismantled hero.
-
-Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry
-Finn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and
-dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless
-and vulgar and bad--and because all their children admired him so, and
-delighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be like
-him. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied
-Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders
-not to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance.
-Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grown
-men, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hat
-was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim; his coat,
-when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons
-far down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat
-of the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs
-dragged in the dirt when not rolled up.
-
-Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps
-in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to
-school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he could
-go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it
-suited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as he
-pleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring
-and the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, nor
-put on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everything
-that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every
-harassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg.
-
-Tom hailed the romantic outcast:
-
-"Hello, Huckleberry!"
-
-"Hello yourself, and see how you like it."
-
-"What's that you got?"
-
-"Dead cat."
-
-"Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?"
-
-"Bought him off'n a boy."
-
-"What did you give?"
-
-"I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughter-house."
-
-"Where'd you get the blue ticket?"
-
-"Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoop-stick."
-
-"Say--what is dead cats good for, Huck?"
-
-"Good for? Cure warts with."
-
-"No! Is that so? I know something that's better."
-
-"I bet you don't. What is it?"
-
-"Why, spunk-water."
-
-"Spunk-water! I wouldn't give a dern for spunk-water."
-
-"You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?"
-
-"No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did."
-
-"Who told you so!"
-
-"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnny
-told Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, and
-the nigger told me. There now!"
-
-"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. I
-don't know HIM. But I never see a nigger that WOULDN'T lie. Shucks! Now
-you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck."
-
-"Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where the
-rain-water was."
-
-"In the daytime?"
-
-"Certainly."
-
-"With his face to the stump?"
-
-"Yes. Least I reckon so."
-
-"Did he say anything?"
-
-"I don't reckon he did. I don't know."
-
-"Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blame
-fool way as that! Why, that ain't a-going to do any good. You got to go
-all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's a
-spunk-water stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the
-stump and jam your hand in and say:
-
- 'Barley-corn, barley-corn, injun-meal shorts,
- Spunk-water, spunk-water, swaller these warts,'
-
-and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and then
-turn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody.
-Because if you speak the charm's busted."
-
-"Well, that sounds like a good way; but that ain't the way Bob Tanner
-done."
-
-"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in this
-town; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to work
-spunk-water. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way,
-Huck. I play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable many
-warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean."
-
-"Yes, bean's good. I've done that."
-
-"Have you? What's your way?"
-
-"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get some
-blood, and then you put the blood on one piece of the bean and take and
-dig a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of
-the moon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piece
-that's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying to
-fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw the
-wart, and pretty soon off she comes."
-
-"Yes, that's it, Huck--that's it; though when you're burying it if you
-say 'Down bean; off wart; come no more to bother me!' it's better.
-That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville and
-most everywheres. But say--how do you cure 'em with dead cats?"
-
-"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long about
-midnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it's
-midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see
-'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk;
-and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'em
-and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm
-done with ye!' That'll fetch ANY wart."
-
-"Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?"
-
-"No, but old Mother Hopkins told me."
-
-"Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch."
-
-"Say! Why, Tom, I KNOW she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own
-self. He come along one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so he
-took up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, that
-very night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and broke
-his arm."
-
-"Why, that's awful. How did he know she was a-witching him?"
-
-"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you
-right stiddy, they're a-witching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz
-when they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards."
-
-"Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?"
-
-"To-night. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams to-night."
-
-"But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?"
-
-"Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight?--and
-THEN it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don't
-reckon."
-
-"I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?"
-
-"Of course--if you ain't afeard."
-
-"Afeard! 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?"
-
-"Yes--and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' me
-a-meowing around till old Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says
-'Dern that cat!' and so I hove a brick through his window--but don't
-you tell."
-
-"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me,
-but I'll meow this time. Say--what's that?"
-
-"Nothing but a tick."
-
-"Where'd you get him?"
-
-"Out in the woods."
-
-"What'll you take for him?"
-
-"I don't know. I don't want to sell him."
-
-"All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway."
-
-"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'm
-satisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for me."
-
-"Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if I
-wanted to."
-
-"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is a
-pretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year."
-
-"Say, Huck--I'll give you my tooth for him."
-
-"Less see it."
-
-Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry
-viewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said:
-
-"Is it genuwyne?"
-
-Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy.
-
-"Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade."
-
-Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately been
-the pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier
-than before.
-
-When Tom reached the little isolated frame schoolhouse, he strode in
-briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed.
-He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with
-business-like alacrity. The master, throned on high in his great
-splint-bottom arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study.
-The interruption roused him.
-
-"Thomas Sawyer!"
-
-Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble.
-
-"Sir!"
-
-"Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?"
-
-Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails of
-yellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electric
-sympathy of love; and by that form was THE ONLY VACANT PLACE on the
-girls' side of the schoolhouse. He instantly said:
-
-"I STOPPED TO TALK WITH HUCKLEBERRY FINN!"
-
-The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz of
-study ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his
-mind. The master said:
-
-"You--you did what?"
-
-"Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn."
-
-There was no mistaking the words.
-
-"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have ever
-listened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off your
-jacket."
-
-The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of
-switches notably diminished. Then the order followed:
-
-"Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let this be a warning to you."
-
-The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but
-in reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe of
-his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good
-fortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl
-hitched herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks
-and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon
-the long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book.
-
-By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur
-rose upon the dull air once more. 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."
-
-"No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't."
-
-"You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?"
-
-"No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me."
-
-"Oh, YOU don't want to see!"
-
-"Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand
-upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in
-earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were
-revealed: "I LOVE YOU."
-
-"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened
-and looked pleased, nevertheless.
-
-Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his
-ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across the
-house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles
-from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few
-awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a
-word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant.
-
-As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the
-turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the
-reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and
-turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into
-continents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, and
-got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought
-up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with
-ostentation for months.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his
-ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It
-seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was
-utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of
-sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying
-scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees.
-Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green
-sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of
-distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other
-living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's
-heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to
-pass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face
-lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know
-it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out. He released the
-tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed
-with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it
-was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned
-him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction.
-
-Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and
-now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in an
-instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn
-friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a
-pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner.
-The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were
-interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of
-the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the
-middle of it from top to bottom.
-
-"Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and
-I'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side,
-you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over."
-
-"All right, go ahead; start him up."
-
-The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe
-harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This
-change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with
-absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong,
-the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to
-all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The
-tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as
-anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would
-have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be
-twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep
-possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was
-too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was
-angry in a moment. Said he:
-
-"Tom, you let him alone."
-
-"I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe."
-
-"No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone."
-
-"Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much."
-
-"Let him alone, I tell you."
-
-"I won't!"
-
-"You shall--he's on my side of the line."
-
-"Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?"
-
-"I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and you
-sha'n't touch him."
-
-"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I
-blame please with him, or die!"
-
-A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on
-Joe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from
-the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been too
-absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile
-before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over
-them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he
-contributed his bit of variety to it.
-
-When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and
-whispered in her ear:
-
-"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to
-the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the
-lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same
-way."
-
-So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with
-another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and
-when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they
-sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil
-and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising
-house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking.
-Tom was swimming in bliss. He said:
-
-"Do you love rats?"
-
-"No! I hate them!"
-
-"Well, I do, too--LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your
-head with a string."
-
-"No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum."
-
-"Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now."
-
-"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give
-it back to me."
-
-That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their
-legs against the bench in excess of contentment.
-
-"Was you ever at a circus?" said Tom.
-
-"Yes, and my pa's going to take me again some time, if I'm good."
-
-"I been to the circus three or four times--lots of times. Church ain't
-shucks to a circus. There's things going on at a circus all the time.
-I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up."
-
-"Oh, are you! That will be nice. They're so lovely, all spotted up."
-
-"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of money--most a dollar a day,
-Ben Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you ever engaged?"
-
-"What's that?"
-
-"Why, engaged to be married."
-
-"No."
-
-"Would you like to?"
-
-"I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?"
-
-"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won't
-ever have anybody but him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that's
-all. Anybody can do it."
-
-"Kiss? What do you kiss for?"
-
-"Why, that, you know, is to--well, they always do that."
-
-"Everybody?"
-
-"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you remember
-what I wrote on the slate?"
-
-"Ye--yes."
-
-"What was it?"
-
-"I sha'n't tell you."
-
-"Shall I tell YOU?"
-
-"Ye--yes--but some other time."
-
-"No, now."
-
-"No, not now--to-morrow."
-
-"Oh, no, NOW. Please, Becky--I'll whisper it, I'll whisper it ever so
-easy."
-
-Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm
-about her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouth
-close to her ear. And then he added:
-
-"Now you whisper it to me--just the same."
-
-She resisted, for a while, and then said:
-
-"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But you
-mustn't ever tell anybody--WILL you, Tom? Now you won't, WILL you?"
-
-"No, indeed, indeed I won't. Now, Becky."
-
-He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breath
-stirred his curls and whispered, "I--love--you!"
-
-Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches,
-with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with her
-little white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and
-pleaded:
-
-"Now, Becky, it's all done--all over but the kiss. Don't you be afraid
-of that--it ain't anything at all. Please, Becky." And he tugged at her
-apron and the hands.
-
-By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowing
-with the struggle, came up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips and
-said:
-
-"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain't
-ever to love anybody but me, and you ain't ever to marry anybody but
-me, ever never and forever. Will you?"
-
-"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marry
-anybody but you--and you ain't to ever marry anybody but me, either."
-
-"Certainly. Of course. That's PART of it. And always coming to school
-or when we're going home, you're to walk with me, when there ain't
-anybody looking--and you choose me and I choose you at parties, because
-that's the way you do when you're engaged."
-
-"It's so nice. I never heard of it before."
-
-"Oh, it's ever so gay! Why, me and Amy Lawrence--"
-
-The big eyes told Tom his blunder and he stopped, confused.
-
-"Oh, Tom! Then I ain't the first you've ever been engaged to!"
-
-The child began to cry. Tom said:
-
-"Oh, don't cry, Becky, I don't care for her any more."
-
-"Yes, you do, Tom--you know you do."
-
-Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and
-turned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, with
-soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride was
-up, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and
-uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hoping
-she would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he began
-to feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle
-with him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it and
-entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with
-her face to the wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood a
-moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly:
-
-"Becky, I--I don't care for anybody but you."
-
-No reply--but sobs.
-
-"Becky"--pleadingly. "Becky, won't you say something?"
-
-More sobs.
-
-Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an
-andiron, and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said:
-
-"Please, Becky, won't you take it?"
-
-She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over
-the hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. Presently
-Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; she
-flew around to the play-yard; he was not there. Then she called:
-
-"Tom! Come back, Tom!"
-
-She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companions
-but silence and loneliness. So she sat down to cry again and upbraid
-herself; and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and she
-had to hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the cross
-of a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none among the strangers
-about her to exchange sorrows with.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of
-the track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He
-crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing
-juvenile superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour
-later he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of
-Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away off
-in the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless
-way to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading
-oak. There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat had
-even stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was
-broken by no sound but the occasional far-off hammering of a
-woodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense
-of loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in
-melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his surroundings. He
-sat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands,
-meditating. It seemed to him that life was but a trouble, at best, and
-he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must be
-very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and
-ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the
-grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve
-about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sunday-school record he
-could be willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to this girl.
-What had he done? Nothing. He had meant the best in the world, and been
-treated like a dog--like a very dog. She would be sorry some day--maybe
-when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die TEMPORARILY!
-
-But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one
-constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift
-insensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turned
-his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--ever
-so far away, into unknown countries beyond the seas--and never came
-back any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clown
-recurred to him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and
-jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded themselves
-upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the
-romantic. No, he would be a soldier, and return after long years, all
-war-worn and illustrious. No--better still, he would join the Indians,
-and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the
-trackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future come
-back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and
-prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy summer morning, with a
-bloodcurdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companions
-with unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even than
-this. He would be a pirate! That was it! NOW his future lay plain
-before him, and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name would
-fill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would go
-plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, the
-Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And at
-the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village
-and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet
-doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt
-bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his
-slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull
-and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings,
-"It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!"
-
-Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from
-home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore
-he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources
-together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under
-one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded
-hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively:
-
-"What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!"
-
-Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it
-up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides
-were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless!
-He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said:
-
-"Well, that beats anything!"
-
-Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The
-truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and
-all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a
-marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a
-fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just
-used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had
-gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they
-had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably
-failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations.
-He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its
-failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several
-times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places
-afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided
-that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he
-would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he
-found a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it.
-He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and
-called--
-
-"Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug,
-doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!"
-
-The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a
-second and then darted under again in a fright.
-
-"He dasn't tell! So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it."
-
-He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he
-gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have
-the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a
-patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to
-his treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been
-standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble
-from his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying:
-
-"Brother, go find your brother!"
-
-He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must
-have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last
-repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each
-other.
-
-Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green
-aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a
-suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log,
-disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in
-a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with
-fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an
-answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way
-and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company:
-
-"Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow."
-
-Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom.
-Tom called:
-
-"Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?"
-
-"Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--"
-
-"Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked
-"by the book," from memory.
-
-"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?"
-
-"I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know."
-
-"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute
-with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!"
-
-They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground,
-struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful
-combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said:
-
-"Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!"
-
-So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and
-by Tom shouted:
-
-"Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?"
-
-"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of
-it."
-
-"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in
-the book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor
-Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the
-back."
-
-There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received
-the whack and fell.
-
-"Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair."
-
-"Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book."
-
-"Well, it's blamed mean--that's all."
-
-"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and
-lam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and
-you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me."
-
-This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then
-Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to
-bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe,
-representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth,
-gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow
-falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he
-shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a
-nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse.
-
-The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off
-grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern
-civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss.
-They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than
-President of the United States forever.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual.
-They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and
-waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be
-nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He
-would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was
-afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark.
-Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little,
-scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking
-of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to
-crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were
-abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And
-now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could
-locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at
-the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were
-numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was
-answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an
-agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity
-begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven,
-but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his
-half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a
-neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the
-crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed
-brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and
-out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all
-fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped
-to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn
-was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the
-gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall
-grass of the graveyard.
-
-It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a
-hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board
-fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of
-the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the
-whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a
-tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over
-the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory
-of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer
-have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light.
-
-A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the
-spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked
-little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the
-pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the
-sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the
-protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet
-of the grave.
-
-Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting
-of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness.
-Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said
-in a whisper:
-
-"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?"
-
-Huckleberry whispered:
-
-"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, AIN'T it?"
-
-"I bet it is."
-
-There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter
-inwardly. Then Tom whispered:
-
-"Say, Hucky--do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?"
-
-"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does."
-
-Tom, after a pause:
-
-"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm.
-Everybody calls him Hoss."
-
-"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout these-yer dead
-people, Tom."
-
-This was a damper, and conversation died again.
-
-Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said:
-
-"Sh!"
-
-"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts.
-
-"Sh! There 'tis again! Didn't you hear it?"
-
-"I--"
-
-"There! Now you hear it."
-
-"Lord, Tom, they're coming! They're coming, sure. What'll we do?"
-
-"I dono. Think they'll see us?"
-
-"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn't
-come."
-
-"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't
-doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us
-at all."
-
-"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver."
-
-"Listen!"
-
-The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled
-sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard.
-
-"Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?"
-
-"It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful."
-
-Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an
-old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable
-little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a
-shudder:
-
-"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners!
-Can you pray?"
-
-"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now
-I lay me down to sleep, I--'"
-
-"Sh!"
-
-"What is it, Huck?"
-
-"They're HUMANS! One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter's
-voice."
-
-"No--'tain't so, is it?"
-
-"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to
-notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!"
-
-"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here
-they come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot!
-They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them
-voices; it's Injun Joe."
-
-"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils a
-dern sight. What kin they be up to?"
-
-The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the
-grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place.
-
-"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the
-lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson.
-
-Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a
-couple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open
-the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came
-and sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so
-close the boys could have touched him.
-
-"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at any
-moment."
-
-They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was
-no noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight
-of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck
-upon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or
-two the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid
-with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the
-ground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid
-face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered
-with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a
-large spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then
-said:
-
-"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with
-another five, or here she stays."
-
-"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe.
-
-"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your
-pay in advance, and I've paid you."
-
-"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the
-doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from
-your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to
-eat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get
-even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for
-a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for
-nothing. And now I've GOT you, and you got to SETTLE, you know!"
-
-He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this
-time. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the
-ground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed:
-
-"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had
-grappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and
-main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels.
-Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched
-up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and
-round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the
-doctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams'
-grave and felled Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instant
-the half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the
-young man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him
-with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the
-dreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away in
-the dark.
-
-Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over
-the two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately,
-gave a long gasp or two and was still. The half-breed muttered:
-
-"THAT score is settled--damn you."
-
-Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in
-Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three
---four--five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His
-hand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it
-fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and
-gazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's.
-
-"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said.
-
-"It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving.
-
-"What did you do it for?"
-
-"I! I never done it!"
-
-"Look here! That kind of talk won't wash."
-
-Potter trembled and grew white.
-
-"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it's
-in my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle;
-can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--HONEST, now, old
-feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I
-never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him
-so young and promising."
-
-"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard
-and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering
-like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched
-you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til
-now."
-
-"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute if
-I did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I
-reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but
-never with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you
-won't tell, Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and
-stood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You WON'T tell, WILL you,
-Joe?" And the poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolid
-murderer, and clasped his appealing hands.
-
-"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I
-won't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say."
-
-"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I
-live." And Potter began to cry.
-
-"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering.
-You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave any
-tracks behind you."
-
-Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The
-half-breed stood looking after him. He muttered:
-
-"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he
-had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so
-far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself
---chicken-heart!"
-
-Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the
-lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the
-moon's. The stillness was complete again, too.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with
-horror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time,
-apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump
-that started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them
-catch their breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages that lay
-near the village, the barking of the aroused watch-dogs seemed to give
-wings to their feet.
-
-"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down!"
-whispered Tom, in short catches between breaths. "I can't stand it much
-longer."
-
-Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed
-their eyes on the goal of their hopes and bent to their work to win it.
-They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burst
-through the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering
-shadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whispered:
-
-"Huckleberry, what do you reckon'll come of this?"
-
-"If Doctor Robinson dies, I reckon hanging'll come of it."
-
-"Do you though?"
-
-"Why, I KNOW it, Tom."
-
-Tom thought a while, then he said:
-
-"Who'll tell? We?"
-
-"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun Joe
-DIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure as
-we're a laying here."
-
-"That's just what I was thinking to myself, Huck."
-
-"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He's
-generally drunk enough."
-
-Tom said nothing--went on thinking. Presently he whispered:
-
-"Huck, Muff Potter don't know it. How can he tell?"
-
-"What's the reason he don't know it?"
-
-"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckon
-he could see anything? D'you reckon he knowed anything?"
-
-"By hokey, that's so, Tom!"
-
-"And besides, look-a-here--maybe that whack done for HIM!"
-
-"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; and
-besides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belt
-him over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so,
-his own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a
-man was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono."
-
-After another reflective silence, Tom said:
-
-"Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?"
-
-"Tom, we GOT to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn't
-make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to
-squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, less
-take and swear to one another--that's what we got to do--swear to keep
-mum."
-
-"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swear
-that we--"
-
-"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little
-rubbishy common things--specially with gals, cuz THEY go back on you
-anyway, and blab if they get in a huff--but there orter be writing
-'bout a big thing like this. And blood."
-
-Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, and
-awful; the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keeping
-with it. He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moonlight,
-took a little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon on
-his work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow
-down-stroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up
-the pressure on the up-strokes. [See next page.]
-
- "Huck Finn and
- Tom Sawyer swears
- they will keep mum
- about This and They
- wish They may Drop
- down dead in Their
- Tracks if They ever
- Tell and Rot."
-
-Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing,
-and the sublimity of his language. He at once took a pin from his lapel
-and was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said:
-
-"Hold on! Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease on
-it."
-
-"What's verdigrease?"
-
-"It's p'ison. That's what it is. You just swaller some of it once
---you'll see."
-
-So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boy
-pricked the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. In
-time, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the
-ball of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to
-make an H and an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingle
-close to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and
-the fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and
-the key thrown away.
-
-A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the
-ruined building, now, but they did not notice it.
-
-"Tom," whispered Huckleberry, "does this keep us from EVER telling
---ALWAYS?"
-
-"Of course it does. It don't make any difference WHAT happens, we got
-to keep mum. We'd drop down dead--don't YOU know that?"
-
-"Yes, I reckon that's so."
-
-They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up
-a long, lugubrious howl just outside--within ten feet of them. The boys
-clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright.
-
-"Which of us does he mean?" gasped Huckleberry.
-
-"I dono--peep through the crack. Quick!"
-
-"No, YOU, Tom!"
-
-"I can't--I can't DO it, Huck!"
-
-"Please, Tom. There 'tis again!"
-
-"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful!" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's Bull
-Harbison." *
-
-[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of
-him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son or a dog of that name was "Bull
-Harbison."]
-
-"Oh, that's good--I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd a
-bet anything it was a STRAY dog."
-
-The dog howled again. The boys' hearts sank once more.
-
-"Oh, my! that ain't no Bull Harbison!" whispered Huckleberry. "DO, Tom!"
-
-Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. His
-whisper was hardly audible when he said:
-
-"Oh, Huck, IT S A STRAY DOG!"
-
-"Quick, Tom, quick! Who does he mean?"
-
-"Huck, he must mean us both--we're right together."
-
-"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'bout
-where I'LL go to. I been so wicked."
-
-"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a
-feller's told NOT to do. I might a been good, like Sid, if I'd a tried
---but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, I lay
-I'll just WALLER in Sunday-schools!" And Tom began to snuffle a little.
-
-"YOU bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom
-Sawyer, you're just old pie, 'longside o' what I am. Oh, LORDY, lordy,
-lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance."
-
-Tom choked off and whispered:
-
-"Look, Hucky, look! He's got his BACK to us!"
-
-Hucky looked, with joy in his heart.
-
-"Well, he has, by jingoes! Did he before?"
-
-"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully,
-you know. NOW who can he mean?"
-
-The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears.
-
-"Sh! What's that?" he whispered.
-
-"Sounds like--like hogs grunting. No--it's somebody snoring, Tom."
-
-"That IS it! Where 'bouts is it, Huck?"
-
-"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used to
-sleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, he
-just lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever
-coming back to this town any more."
-
-The spirit of adventure rose in the boys' souls once more.
-
-"Hucky, do you das't to go if I lead?"
-
-"I don't like to, much. Tom, s'pose it's Injun Joe!"
-
-Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and the
-boys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take to
-their heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily
-down, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps
-of the snorer, Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp snap.
-The man moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight.
-It was Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopes
-too, when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tiptoed
-out, through the broken weather-boarding, and stopped at a little
-distance to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on
-the night air again! They turned and saw the strange dog standing
-within a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, with
-his nose pointing heavenward.
-
-"Oh, geeminy, it's HIM!" exclaimed both boys, in a breath.
-
-"Say, Tom--they say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller's
-house, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill
-come in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; and
-there ain't anybody dead there yet."
-
-"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall
-in the kitchen fire and burn herself terrible the very next Saturday?"
-
-"Yes, but she ain't DEAD. And what's more, she's getting better, too."
-
-"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as Muff
-Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all about
-these kind of things, Huck."
-
-Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom
-window the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution,
-and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his
-escapade. He was not aware that the gently-snoring Sid was awake, and
-had been so for an hour.
-
-When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the
-light, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not
-been called--persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filled
-him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and down-stairs,
-feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they had
-finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there were
-averted eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a
-chill to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but it
-was up-hill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into
-silence and let his heart sink down to the depths.
-
-After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in
-the hope that he was going to be flogged; but it was not so. His aunt
-wept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so;
-and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her gray
-hairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try any
-more. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was
-sorer now than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised
-to reform over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feeling
-that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a
-feeble confidence.
-
-He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid;
-and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate was
-unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging,
-along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the air
-of one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to
-trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his
-desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony
-stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go.
-His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time
-he slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object with
-a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossal
-sigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass andiron knob!
-
-This final feather broke the camel's back.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified
-with the ghastly news. No need of the as yet undreamed-of telegraph;
-the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to
-house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the
-schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the town would have
-thought strangely of him if he had not.
-
-A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been
-recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potter--so the story ran.
-And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washing
-himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and
-that Potter had at once sneaked off--suspicious circumstances,
-especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was also
-said that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public
-are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a
-verdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down
-all the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that
-he would be captured before night.
-
-All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak
-vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not a
-thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful,
-unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place,
-he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismal
-spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody
-pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both
-looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything
-in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the
-grisly spectacle before them.
-
-"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to
-grave robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" This
-was the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His
-hand is here."
-
-Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid
-face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle,
-and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!"
-
-"Who? Who?" from twenty voices.
-
-"Muff Potter!"
-
-"Hallo, he's stopped!--Look out, he's turning! Don't let him get away!"
-
-People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't
-trying to get away--he only looked doubtful and perplexed.
-
-"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a
-quiet look at his work, I reckon--didn't expect any company."
-
-The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through,
-ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face was
-haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood
-before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face
-in his hands and burst into tears.
-
-"I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I never
-done it."
-
-"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice.
-
-This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked
-around him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe,
-and exclaimed:
-
-"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never--"
-
-"Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff.
-
-Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to
-the ground. Then he said:
-
-"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get--" He shuddered;
-then waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell
-'em, Joe, tell 'em--it ain't any use any more."
-
-Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the
-stony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every
-moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head,
-and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had
-finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to
-break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and
-vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and
-it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that.
-
-"Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebody
-said.
-
-"I couldn't help it--I couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to
-run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell
-to sobbing again.
-
-Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes
-afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that the
-lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe
-had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most
-balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could
-not take their fascinated eyes from his face.
-
-They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should
-offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master.
-
-Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in a
-wagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering crowd
-that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy
-circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were
-disappointed, for more than one villager remarked:
-
-"It was within three feet of Muff Potter when it done it."
-
-Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as
-much as a week after this; and at breakfast one morning Sid said:
-
-"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me
-awake half the time."
-
-Tom blanched and dropped his eyes.
-
-"It's a bad sign," said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on your
-mind, Tom?"
-
-"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he
-spilled his coffee.
-
-"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's
-blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. And
-you said, 'Don't torment me so--I'll tell!' Tell WHAT? What is it
-you'll tell?"
-
-Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might
-have happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly's
-face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said:
-
-"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night
-myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it."
-
-Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed
-satisfied. Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could,
-and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his
-jaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and
-frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow
-listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage
-back to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and
-the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to
-make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself.
-
-It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding
-inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his
-mind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries,
-though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises;
-he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness--and that was
-strange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a
-marked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when he
-could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went out
-of vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience.
-
-Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his
-opportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled such
-small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The
-jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge
-of the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it was
-seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's
-conscience.
-
-The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe and
-ride him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was his
-character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead
-in the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of
-his inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing the
-grave-robbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not
-to try the case in the courts at present.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-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 blister-plasters. 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.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a
-forsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found
-out what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had
-tried to do right and get along, but they would not let him; since
-nothing would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let them
-blame HIM for the consequences--why shouldn't they? What right had the
-friendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he
-would lead a life of crime. There was no choice.
-
-By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to
-"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he
-should never, never hear that old familiar sound any more--it was very
-hard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the cold
-world, he must submit--but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick
-and fast.
-
-Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe Harper
---hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his heart.
-Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom, wiping
-his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about a
-resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home by
-roaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by
-hoping that Joe would not forget him.
-
-But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been
-going to make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His
-mother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never
-tasted and knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him
-and wished him to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him
-to do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having
-driven her poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die.
-
-As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to
-stand by each other and be brothers and never separate till death
-relieved them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans.
-Joe was for being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and
-dying, some time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening to
-Tom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a
-life of crime, and so he consented to be a pirate.
-
-Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi
-River was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded
-island, with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as
-a rendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the further
-shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson's
-Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a
-matter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry
-Finn, and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; he
-was indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on
-the river-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour--which
-was midnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to
-capture. Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he
-could steal in the most dark and mysterious way--as became outlaws. And
-before the afternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet
-glory of spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear
-something." All who got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum and
-wait."
-
-About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles,
-and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking the
-meeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay
-like an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the
-quiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from under
-the bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in the
-same way. Then a guarded voice said:
-
-"Who goes there?"
-
-"Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names."
-
-"Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tom
-had furnished these titles, from his favorite literature.
-
-"'Tis well. Give the countersign."
-
-Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to
-the brooding night:
-
-"BLOOD!"
-
-Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it,
-tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There was
-an easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it
-lacked the advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate.
-
-The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about worn
-himself out with getting it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen a
-skillet and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had also brought
-a few corn-cobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or
-"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said it
-would never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought;
-matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire
-smouldering upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they went
-stealthily thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an
-imposing adventure of it, saying, "Hist!" every now and then, and
-suddenly halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginary
-dagger-hilts; and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe"
-stirred, to "let him have it to the hilt," because "dead men tell no
-tales." They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all down at the
-village laying in stores or having a spree, but still that was no
-excuse for their conducting this thing in an unpiratical way.
-
-They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar and
-Joe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with folded
-arms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper:
-
-"Luff, and bring her to the wind!"
-
-"Aye-aye, sir!"
-
-"Steady, steady-y-y-y!"
-
-"Steady it is, sir!"
-
-"Let her go off a point!"
-
-"Point it is, sir!"
-
-As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward mid-stream
-it was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for
-"style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular.
-
-"What sail's she carrying?"
-
-"Courses, tops'ls, and flying-jib, sir."
-
-"Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of ye
---foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!"
-
-"Aye-aye, sir!"
-
-"Shake out that maintogalans'l! Sheets and braces! NOW my hearties!"
-
-"Aye-aye, sir!"
-
-"Hellum-a-lee--hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port,
-port! NOW, men! With a will! Stead-y-y-y!"
-
-"Steady it is, sir!"
-
-The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed her
-head right, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, so
-there was not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was
-said during the next three-quarters of an hour. Now the raft was
-passing before the distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showed
-where it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of
-star-gemmed water, unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening.
-The Black Avenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" upon
-the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing
-"she" could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death
-with dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips.
-It was but a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island
-beyond eyeshot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with a
-broken and satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last,
-too; and they all looked so long that they came near letting the
-current drift them out of the range of the island. But they discovered
-the danger in time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in
-the morning the raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the
-head of the island, and they waded back and forth until they had landed
-their freight. Part of the little raft's belongings consisted of an old
-sail, and this they spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to
-shelter their provisions; but they themselves would sleep in the open
-air in good weather, as became outlaws.
-
-They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty
-steps within the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked some
-bacon in the frying-pan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone"
-stock they had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that
-wild, free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabited
-island, far from the haunts of men, and they said they never would
-return to civilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threw
-its ruddy glare upon the pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple,
-and upon the varnished foliage and festooning vines.
-
-When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance of
-corn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass,
-filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but they
-would not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roasting
-camp-fire.
-
-"AIN'T it gay?" said Joe.
-
-"It's NUTS!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?"
-
-"Say? Well, they'd just die to be here--hey, Hucky!"
-
-"I reckon so," said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't want
-nothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'ally--and
-here they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so."
-
-"It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up,
-mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all that
-blame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do ANYTHING, Joe,
-when he's ashore, but a hermit HE has to be praying considerable, and
-then he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way."
-
-"Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it,
-you know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it."
-
-"You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, like
-they used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. And a
-hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and put
-sackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and--"
-
-"What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck.
-
-"I dono. But they've GOT to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to do
-that if you was a hermit."
-
-"Dern'd if I would," said Huck.
-
-"Well, what would you do?"
-
-"I dono. But I wouldn't do that."
-
-"Why, Huck, you'd HAVE to. How'd you get around it?"
-
-"Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away."
-
-"Run away! Well, you WOULD be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd be
-a disgrace."
-
-The Red-Handed made no response, being better employed. He had
-finished gouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded
-it with tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a
-cloud of fragrant smoke--he was in the full bloom of luxurious
-contentment. The other pirates envied him this majestic vice, and
-secretly resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said:
-
-"What does pirates have to do?"
-
-Tom said:
-
-"Oh, they have just a bully time--take ships and burn them, and get
-the money and bury it in awful places in their island where there's
-ghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships--make
-'em walk a plank."
-
-"And they carry the women to the island," said Joe; "they don't kill
-the women."
-
-"No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the women--they're too noble. And
-the women's always beautiful, too.
-
-"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silver
-and di'monds," said Joe, with enthusiasm.
-
-"Who?" said Huck.
-
-"Why, the pirates."
-
-Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly.
-
-"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with a
-regretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none but these."
-
-But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough,
-after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understand
-that his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary for
-wealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe.
-
-Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon the
-eyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of the
-Red-Handed, and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and the
-weary. The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main
-had more difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayers
-inwardly, and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority
-to make them kneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not to
-say them at all, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths as
-that, lest they might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from
-heaven. Then at once they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge
-of sleep--but an intruder came, now, that would not "down." It was
-conscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doing
-wrong to run away; and next they thought of the stolen meat, and then
-the real torture came. They tried to argue it away by reminding
-conscience that they had purloined sweetmeats and apples scores of
-times; but conscience was not to be appeased by such thin
-plausibilities; it seemed to them, in the end, that there was no
-getting around the stubborn fact that taking sweetmeats was only
-"hooking," while taking bacon and hams and such valuables was plain
-simple stealing--and there was a command against that in the Bible. So
-they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in the business,
-their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of stealing.
-Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistent
-pirates fell peacefully to sleep.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and
-rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the
-cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in
-the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred;
-not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops
-stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the
-fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe
-and Huck still slept.
-
-Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently
-the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of
-the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life
-manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to
-work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came
-crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the air
-from time to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding again--for he
-was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its own
-accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling,
-by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to
-go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with its
-curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and
-began a journey over him, his whole heart was glad--for that meant that
-he was going to have a new suit of clothes--without the shadow of a
-doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared,
-from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled
-manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms,
-and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bug
-climbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to
-it and said, "Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire,
-your children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it
---which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was
-credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its
-simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at
-its ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against
-its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this
-time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head,
-and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of
-enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and
-stopped on a twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one
-side and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel
-and a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at
-intervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had
-probably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to
-be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long
-lances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near,
-and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene.
-
-Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a
-shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and
-tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white
-sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the
-distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a
-slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only
-gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge
-between them and civilization.
-
-They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and
-ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found
-a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad
-oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a
-wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee.
-While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to
-hold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank
-and threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had
-not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some
-handsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish--provisions
-enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were
-astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did
-not know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is
-caught the better he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce
-open-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient
-of hunger make, too.
-
-They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke,
-and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They
-tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush,
-among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the
-ground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they came
-upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers.
-
-They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be
-astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles
-long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to
-was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards
-wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the
-middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too
-hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and
-then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon
-began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded
-in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the
-spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing
-crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently--it was budding
-homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps
-and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and
-none was brave enough to speak his thought.
-
-For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar
-sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a
-clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound
-became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started,
-glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude.
-There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen
-boom came floating down out of the distance.
-
-"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.
-
-"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper.
-
-"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder--"
-
-"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen--don't talk."
-
-They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom
-troubled the solemn hush.
-
-"Let's go and see."
-
-They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town.
-They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The
-little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting
-with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were
-a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the
-neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what
-the men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst
-from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud,
-that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again.
-
-"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!"
-
-"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner
-got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him
-come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put
-quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody
-that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop."
-
-"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread
-do that."
-
-"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly
-what they SAY over it before they start it out."
-
-"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and
-they don't."
-
-"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves.
-Of COURSE they do. Anybody might know that."
-
-The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because
-an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be
-expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such
-gravity.
-
-"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe.
-
-"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is."
-
-The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought
-flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed:
-
-"Boys, I know who's drownded--it's us!"
-
-They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they
-were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account;
-tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor
-lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being
-indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole
-town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety
-was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after
-all.
-
-As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed
-business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They
-were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious
-trouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it,
-and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying
-about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their
-account were gratifying to look upon--from their point of view. But
-when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to
-talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently
-wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe
-could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not
-enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they
-grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by
-Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others
-might look upon a return to civilization--not right now, but--
-
-Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined
-in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get
-out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted homesickness
-clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to
-rest for the moment.
-
-As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joe
-followed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time,
-watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees,
-and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung
-by the camp-fire. He picked up and inspected several large
-semi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose
-two which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully
-wrote something upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled up
-and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and
-removed it to a little distance from the owner. And he also put into the
-hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value--among them
-a lump of chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that
-kind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his
-way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing,
-and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wading
-toward the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he was
-half-way over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so he
-struck out confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam
-quartering upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than he
-had expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along
-till he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his
-jacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck through
-the woods, following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before
-ten o'clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, and
-saw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank.
-Everything was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank,
-watching with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four
-strokes and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at the boat's
-stern. He laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting.
-
-Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "cast
-off." A minute or two later the skiff's head was standing high up,
-against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in
-his success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. At
-the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and Tom
-slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards
-downstream, out of danger of possible stragglers.
-
-He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his
-aunt's back fence. He climbed over, approached the "ell," and looked in
-at the sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. There sat
-Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together,
-talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and the
-door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then he
-pressed gently and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushing
-cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he might
-squeeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began,
-warily.
-
-"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up.
-"Why, that door's open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of
-strange things now. Go 'long and shut it, Sid."
-
-Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed"
-himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his
-aunt's foot.
-
-"But as I was saying," said Aunt Polly, "he warn't BAD, so to say
---only mischEEvous. Only just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. He
-warn't any more responsible than a colt. HE never meant any harm, and
-he was the best-hearted boy that ever was"--and she began to cry.
-
-"It was just so with my Joe--always full of his devilment, and up to
-every kind of mischief, but he was just as unselfish and kind as he
-could be--and laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for taking
-that cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myself
-because it was sour, and I never to see him again in this world, never,
-never, never, poor abused boy!" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heart
-would break.
-
-"I hope Tom's better off where he is," said Sid, "but if he'd been
-better in some ways--"
-
-"SID!" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could not
-see it. "Not a word against my Tom, now that he's gone! God'll take
-care of HIM--never you trouble YOURself, sir! Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don't
-know how to give him up! I don't know how to give him up! He was such a
-comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most."
-
-"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away--Blessed be the name of
-the Lord! But it's so hard--Oh, it's so hard! Only last Saturday my
-Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him
-sprawling. Little did I know then, how soon--Oh, if it was to do over
-again I'd hug him and bless him for it."
-
-"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know just
-exactly how you feel. No longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom took
-and filled the cat full of Pain-killer, and I did think the cretur
-would tear the house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's head
-with my thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's out of all his
-troubles now. And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach--"
-
-But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirely
-down. Tom was snuffling, now, himself--and more in pity of himself than
-anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly word
-for him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himself
-than ever before. Still, he was sufficiently touched by his aunt's
-grief to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her with
-joy--and the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to
-his nature, too, but he resisted and lay still.
-
-He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it was
-conjectured at first that the boys had got drowned while taking a swim;
-then the small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said the
-missing lads had promised that the village should "hear something"
-soon; the wise-heads had "put this and that together" and decided that
-the lads had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next town
-below, presently; but toward noon the raft had been found, lodged
-against the Missouri shore some five or six miles below the village
---and then hope perished; they must be drowned, else hunger would have
-driven them home by nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that the
-search for the bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because the
-drowning must have occurred in mid-channel, since the boys, being good
-swimmers, would otherwise have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday
-night. If the bodies continued missing until Sunday, all hope would be
-given over, and the funerals would be preached on that morning. Tom
-shuddered.
-
-Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing good-night and turned to go. Then with a
-mutual impulse the two bereaved women flung themselves into each
-other's arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Polly
-was tender far beyond her wont, in her good-night to Sid and Mary. Sid
-snuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all her heart.
-
-Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, so
-appealingly, and with such measureless love in her words and her old
-trembling voice, that he was weltering in tears again, long before she
-was through.
-
-He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making
-broken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and
-turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in her
-sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the
-candle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full
-of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the
-candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His
-face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the bark
-hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and
-straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him.
-
-He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large
-there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was
-tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and
-slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped
-into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a
-mile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himself
-stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for
-this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture the
-skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore
-legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be
-made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and
-entered the woods.
-
-He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep
-awake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was far
-spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast the
-island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the
-great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A
-little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and
-heard Joe say:
-
-"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He
-knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for
-that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?"
-
-"Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain't they?"
-
-"Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain't
-back here to breakfast."
-
-"Which he is!" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, stepping
-grandly into camp.
-
-A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and as
-the boys set to work upon it, Tom recounted (and adorned) his
-adventures. They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the
-tale was done. Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep till
-noon, and the other pirates got ready to fish and explore.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the
-bar. They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a
-soft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands.
-Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They
-were perfectly round white things a trifle smaller than an English
-walnut. They had a famous fried-egg feast that night, and another on
-Friday morning.
-
-After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and
-chased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until
-they were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal
-water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their
-legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun.
-And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each
-other's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with
-averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and
-struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all
-went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing,
-sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time.
-
-When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the
-dry, hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by
-and by break for the water again and go through the original
-performance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked
-skin represented flesh-colored "tights" very fairly; so they drew a
-ring in the sand and had a circus--with three clowns in it, for none
-would yield this proudest post to his neighbor.
-
-Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ring-taw" and
-"keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another
-swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off
-his trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his
-ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the
-protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he
-had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to
-rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and fell
-to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay
-drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with
-his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his
-weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He
-erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving
-the other boys together and joining them.
-
-But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so
-homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay
-very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted,
-but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready
-to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon,
-he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of
-cheerfulness:
-
-"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore
-it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light
-on a rotten chest full of gold and silver--hey?"
-
-But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply.
-Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was
-discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking
-very gloomy. Finally he said:
-
-"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome."
-
-"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of
-the fishing that's here."
-
-"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home."
-
-"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere."
-
-"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there
-ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home."
-
-"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon."
-
-"Yes, I DO want to see my mother--and you would, too, if you had one.
-I ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little.
-
-"Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck?
-Poor thing--does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like
-it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?"
-
-Huck said, "Y-e-s"--without any heart in it.
-
-"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising.
-"There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.
-
-"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get
-laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies.
-We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can
-get along without him, per'aps."
-
-But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go
-sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see
-Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an
-ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade
-off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at
-Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:
-
-"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now
-it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom."
-
-"I won't! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay."
-
-"Tom, I better go."
-
-"Well, go 'long--who's hendering you."
-
-Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said:
-
-"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for
-you when we get to shore."
-
-"Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all."
-
-Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a
-strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too.
-He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It
-suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He
-made one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his
-comrades, yelling:
-
-"Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!"
-
-They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they
-were, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till at
-last they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a
-war-whoop of applause and said it was "splendid!" and said if he had
-told them at first, they wouldn't have started away. He made a plausible
-excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret
-would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had
-meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction.
-
-The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will,
-chattering all the time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring the
-genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to
-learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to
-try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never
-smoked anything before but cigars made of grape-vine, and they "bit"
-the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway.
-
-Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff,
-charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant
-taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said:
-
-"Why, it's just as easy! If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learnt
-long ago."
-
-"So would I," said Joe. "It's just nothing."
-
-"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I
-wish I could do that; but I never thought I could," said Tom.
-
-"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk
-just that way--haven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't."
-
-"Yes--heaps of times," said Huck.
-
-"Well, I have too," said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the
-slaughter-house. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and
-Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember,
-Huck, 'bout me saying that?"
-
-"Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white
-alley. No, 'twas the day before."
-
-"There--I told you so," said Tom. "Huck recollects it."
-
-"I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day," said Joe. "I don't feel
-sick."
-
-"Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you
-Jeff Thatcher couldn't."
-
-"Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him
-try it once. HE'D see!"
-
-"I bet he would. And Johnny Miller--I wish could see Johnny Miller
-tackle it once."
-
-"Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any
-more do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch HIM."
-
-"'Deed it would, Joe. Say--I wish the boys could see us now."
-
-"So do I."
-
-"Say--boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're
-around, I'll come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.'
-And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll
-say, 'Yes, I got my OLD pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain't
-very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's STRONG
-enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as
-ca'm, and then just see 'em look!"
-
-"By jings, that'll be gay, Tom! I wish it was NOW!"
-
-"So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating,
-won't they wish they'd been along?"
-
-"Oh, I reckon not! I'll just BET they will!"
-
-So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and grow
-disjointed. The silences widened; the expectoration marvellously
-increased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spouting
-fountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues
-fast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down their
-throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings
-followed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable,
-now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom's followed.
-Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might
-and main. Joe said feebly:
-
-"I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it."
-
-Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance:
-
-"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the
-spring. No, you needn't come, Huck--we can find it."
-
-So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome,
-and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both
-very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they
-had had any trouble they had got rid of it.
-
-They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look,
-and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare
-theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well--something they
-ate at dinner had disagreed with them.
-
-About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding
-oppressiveness in the air that seemed to bode something. The boys
-huddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship of
-the fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere was
-stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush
-continued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up in
-the blackness of darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow that
-vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By and by
-another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came
-sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting
-breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit
-of the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned
-night into day and showed every little grass-blade, separate and
-distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white,
-startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling
-down the heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. A
-sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing the
-flaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the
-forest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the tree-tops
-right over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick
-gloom that followed. A few big rain-drops fell pattering upon the
-leaves.
-
-"Quick! boys, go for the tent!" exclaimed Tom.
-
-They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no
-two plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through the
-trees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash after
-another came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now a
-drenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheets
-along the ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring
-wind and the booming thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly.
-However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter under
-the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have company
-in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the
-old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have
-allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the
-sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast.
-The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and
-bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank.
-Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of
-lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in
-clean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy
-river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dim
-outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the
-drifting cloud-rack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while
-some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the younger
-growth; and the unflagging thunder-peals came now in ear-splitting
-explosive bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. The storm
-culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island
-to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, and
-deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was a
-wild night for homeless young heads to be out in.
-
-But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker
-and weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The
-boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was
-still something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the
-shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and
-they were not under it when the catastrophe happened.
-
-Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they were
-but heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision
-against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through
-and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently
-discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had
-been built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from
-the ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so
-they patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from the
-under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then
-they piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and
-were glad-hearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a
-feast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified
-their midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot to
-sleep on, anywhere around.
-
-As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them,
-and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got
-scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After
-the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little homesick once
-more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well as
-he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming,
-or anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray
-of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new device. This
-was to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a
-change. They were attracted by this idea; so it was not long before
-they were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like
-so many zebras--all of them chiefs, of course--and then they went
-tearing through the woods to attack an English settlement.
-
-By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon
-each other from ambush with dreadful war-whoops, and killed and scalped
-each other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was an
-extremely satisfactory one.
-
-They assembled in camp toward supper-time, hungry and happy; but now a
-difficulty arose--hostile Indians could not break the bread of
-hospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simple
-impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no other
-process that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished
-they had remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so with
-such show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipe
-and took their whiff as it passed, in due form.
-
-And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had
-gained something; they found that they could now smoke a little without
-having to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not get sick enough to
-be seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this high
-promise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, after
-supper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening.
-They were prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they would
-have been in the scalping and skinning of the Six Nations. We will
-leave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further use
-for them at present.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil
-Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being
-put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet
-possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all
-conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air,
-and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a
-burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and
-gradually gave them up.
-
-In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the
-deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found
-nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:
-
-"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got
-anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob.
-
-Presently she stopped, and said to herself:
-
-"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say
-that--I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'll
-never, never, never see him any more."
-
-This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling
-down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls--playmates of
-Tom's and Joe's--came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and
-talking in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time they
-saw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with
-awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!)--and each speaker
-pointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and
-then added something like "and I was a-standing just so--just as I am
-now, and as if you was him--I was as close as that--and he smiled, just
-this way--and then something seemed to go all over me, like--awful, you
-know--and I never thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now!"
-
-Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and
-many claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or
-less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided
-who DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them,
-the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and
-were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no
-other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the
-remembrance:
-
-"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once."
-
-But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that,
-and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loitered
-away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.
-
-When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell
-began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still
-Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush
-that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment
-in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But there
-was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses
-as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None
-could remember when the little church had been so full before. There
-was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly
-entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all
-in deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well,
-rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front
-pew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals by
-muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed.
-A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection
-and the Life."
-
-As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the
-graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that
-every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in
-remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always
-before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor
-boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the
-departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the
-people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes
-were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had
-seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The
-congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on,
-till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping
-mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way
-to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.
-
-There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment
-later the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes
-above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then
-another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one
-impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came
-marching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of
-drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in
-the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!
-
-Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored
-ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while
-poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what to
-do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and
-started to slink away, but Tom seized him and said:
-
-"Aunt Polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck."
-
-"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" And
-the loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thing
-capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before.
-
-Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise God
-from whom all blessings flow--SING!--and put your hearts in it!"
-
-And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and
-while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the
-envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was
-the proudest moment of his life.
-
-As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be
-willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that
-once more.
-
-Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day--according to Aunt Polly's
-varying moods--than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew
-which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-THAT was Tom's great secret--the scheme to return home with his
-brother pirates and attend their own funerals. They had paddled over to
-the Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or six
-miles below the village; they had slept in the woods at the edge of the
-town till nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes and
-alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among a
-chaos of invalided benches.
-
-At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to
-Tom, and very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount of
-talk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said:
-
-"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybody
-suffering 'most a week so you boys had a good time, but it is a pity
-you could be so hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come
-over on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give
-me a hint some way that you warn't dead, but only run off."
-
-"Yes, you could have done that, Tom," said Mary; "and I believe you
-would if you had thought of it."
-
-"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say,
-now, would you, if you'd thought of it?"
-
-"I--well, I don't know. 'Twould 'a' spoiled everything."
-
-"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much," said Aunt Polly, with a grieved
-tone that discomforted the boy. "It would have been something if you'd
-cared enough to THINK of it, even if you didn't DO it."
-
-"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm," pleaded Mary; "it's only Tom's
-giddy way--he is always in such a rush that he never thinks of
-anything."
-
-"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come and
-DONE it, too. Tom, you'll look back, some day, when it's too late, and
-wish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you so
-little."
-
-"Now, auntie, you know I do care for you," said Tom.
-
-"I'd know it better if you acted more like it."
-
-"I wish now I'd thought," said Tom, with a repentant tone; "but I
-dreamt about you, anyway. That's something, ain't it?"
-
-"It ain't much--a cat does that much--but it's better than nothing.
-What did you dream?"
-
-"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the
-bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him."
-
-"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take
-even that much trouble about us."
-
-"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here."
-
-"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?"
-
-"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now."
-
-"Well, try to recollect--can't you?"
-
-"Somehow it seems to me that the wind--the wind blowed the--the--"
-
-"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!"
-
-Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then
-said:
-
-"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!"
-
-"Mercy on us! Go on, Tom--go on!"
-
-"And it seems to me that you said, 'Why, I believe that that door--'"
-
-"Go ON, Tom!"
-
-"Just let me study a moment--just a moment. Oh, yes--you said you
-believed the door was open."
-
-"As I'm sitting here, I did! Didn't I, Mary! Go on!"
-
-"And then--and then--well I won't be certain, but it seems like as if
-you made Sid go and--and--"
-
-"Well? Well? What did I make him do, Tom? What did I make him do?"
-
-"You made him--you--Oh, you made him shut it."
-
-"Well, for the land's sake! I never heard the beat of that in all my
-days! Don't tell ME there ain't anything in dreams, any more. Sereny
-Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her
-get around THIS with her rubbage 'bout superstition. Go on, Tom!"
-
-"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said I
-warn't BAD, only mischeevous and harum-scarum, and not any more
-responsible than--than--I think it was a colt, or something."
-
-"And so it was! Well, goodness gracious! Go on, Tom!"
-
-"And then you began to cry."
-
-"So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. And then--"
-
-"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same,
-and she wished she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'd
-throwed it out her own self--"
-
-"Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was a prophesying--that's what you
-was doing! Land alive, go on, Tom!"
-
-"Then Sid he said--he said--"
-
-"I don't think I said anything," said Sid.
-
-"Yes you did, Sid," said Mary.
-
-"Shut your heads and let Tom go on! What did he say, Tom?"
-
-"He said--I THINK he said he hoped I was better off where I was gone
-to, but if I'd been better sometimes--"
-
-"THERE, d'you hear that! It was his very words!"
-
-"And you shut him up sharp."
-
-"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There WAS an angel
-there, somewheres!"
-
-"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and
-you told about Peter and the Painkiller--"
-
-"Just as true as I live!"
-
-"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for
-us, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss
-Harper hugged and cried, and she went."
-
-"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm a-sitting in
-these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a'
-seen it! And then what? Go on, Tom!"
-
-"Then I thought you prayed for me--and I could see you and hear every
-word you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took and
-wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead--we are only off
-being pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle; and then you
-looked so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leaned
-over and kissed you on the lips."
-
-"Did you, Tom, DID you! I just forgive you everything for that!" And
-she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like the
-guiltiest of villains.
-
-"It was very kind, even though it was only a--dream," Sid soliloquized
-just audibly.
-
-"Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he
-was awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if
-you was ever found again--now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the
-good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-suffering
-and merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though
-goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His
-blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's
-few enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long
-night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom--take yourselves off--you've
-hendered me long enough."
-
-The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper
-and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better
-judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the
-house. It was this: "Pretty thin--as long a dream as that, without any
-mistakes in it!"
-
-What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing,
-but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the
-public eye was on him. And indeed it was; he tried not to seem to see
-the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food
-and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as
-proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been the
-drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie
-into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away
-at all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would
-have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his
-glittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for a
-circus.
-
-At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered
-such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were not
-long in becoming insufferably "stuck-up." They began to tell their
-adventures to hungry listeners--but they only began; it was not a thing
-likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish
-material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely
-puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached.
-
-Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glory
-was sufficient. He would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished,
-maybe she would be wanting to "make up." Well, let her--she should see
-that he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she
-arrived. Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and joined a group
-of boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she was
-tripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes,
-pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughter
-when she made a capture; but he noticed that she always made her
-captures in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eye
-in his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the vicious
-vanity that was in him; and so, instead of winning him, it only "set
-him up" the more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying that
-he knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and moved
-irresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively and
-wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that now Tom was talking more
-particularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp
-pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, but
-her feet were treacherous, and carried her to the group instead. She
-said to a girl almost at Tom's elbow--with sham vivacity:
-
-"Why, Mary Austin! you bad girl, why didn't you come to Sunday-school?"
-
-"I did come--didn't you see me?"
-
-"Why, no! Did you? Where did you sit?"
-
-"I was in Miss Peters' class, where I always go. I saw YOU."
-
-"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you about
-the picnic."
-
-"Oh, that's jolly. Who's going to give it?"
-
-"My ma's going to let me have one."
-
-"Oh, goody; I hope she'll let ME come."
-
-"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that I
-want, and I want you."
-
-"That's ever so nice. When is it going to be?"
-
-"By and by. Maybe about vacation."
-
-"Oh, won't it be fun! You going to have all the girls and boys?"
-
-"Yes, every one that's friends to me--or wants to be"; and she glanced
-ever so furtively at Tom, but he talked right along to Amy Lawrence
-about the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore the
-great sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing within
-three feet of it."
-
-"Oh, may I come?" said Grace Miller.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"And me?" said Sally Rogers.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"And me, too?" said Susy Harper. "And Joe?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had begged
-for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, still
-talking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tears
-came to her eyes; she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went on
-chattering, but the life had gone out of the picnic, now, and out of
-everything else; she got away as soon as she could and hid herself and
-had what her sex call "a good cry." Then she sat moody, with wounded
-pride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive cast
-in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what
-SHE'D do.
-
-At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant
-self-satisfaction. And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerate
-her with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a sudden
-falling of his mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind
-the schoolhouse looking at a picture-book with Alfred Temple--and so
-absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book,
-that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides.
-Jealousy ran red-hot through Tom's veins. He began to hate himself for
-throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. He
-called himself a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. He
-wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along, as they walked,
-for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. He
-did not hear what Amy was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly he
-could only stammer an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced as
-otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again and
-again, to sear his eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He could
-not help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he saw, that
-Becky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of the
-living. But she did see, nevertheless; and she knew she was winning her
-fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had suffered.
-
-Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had to
-attend to; things that must be done; and time was fleeting. But in
-vain--the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever
-going to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those
-things--and she said artlessly that she would be "around" when school
-let out. And he hastened away, hating her for it.
-
-"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole
-town but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is
-aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw
-this town, mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catch
-you out! I'll just take and--"
-
-And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy
---pummelling the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You
-holler 'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so the
-imaginary flogging was finished to his satisfaction.
-
-Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more of
-Amy's grateful happiness, and his jealousy could bear no more of the
-other distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, but
-as the minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph
-began to cloud and she lost interest; gravity and absent-mindedness
-followed, and then melancholy; two or three times she pricked up her
-ear at a footstep, but it was a false hope; no Tom came. At last she
-grew entirely miserable and wished she hadn't carried it so far. When
-poor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, kept
-exclaiming: "Oh, here's a jolly one! look at this!" she lost patience
-at last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me! I don't care for them!" and
-burst into tears, and got up and walked away.
-
-Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to comfort her, but she
-said:
-
-"Go away and leave me alone, can't you! I hate you!"
-
-So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done--for she had said
-she would look at pictures all through the nooning--and she walked on,
-crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He was
-humiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truth--the girl
-had simply made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer.
-He was far from hating Tom the less when this thought occurred to him.
-He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without much
-risk to himself. Tom's spelling-book fell under his eye. Here was his
-opportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon and
-poured ink upon the page.
-
-Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act,
-and moved on, without discovering herself. She started homeward, now,
-intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be thankful and their
-troubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, she
-had changed her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when she
-was talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her with
-shame. She resolved to let him get whipped on the damaged
-spelling-book's account, and to hate him forever, into the bargain.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX
-
-TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt
-said to him showed him that he had brought his sorrows to an
-unpromising market:
-
-"Tom, I've a notion to skin you alive!"
-
-"Auntie, what have I done?"
-
-"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like an
-old softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe all that rubbage
-about that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe that
-you was over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, I
-don't know what is to become of a boy that will act like that. It makes
-me feel so bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and make
-such a fool of myself and never say a word."
-
-This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning had
-seemed to Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely looked
-mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anything
-to say for a moment. Then he said:
-
-"Auntie, I wish I hadn't done it--but I didn't think."
-
-"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your own
-selfishness. You could think to come all the way over here from
-Jackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you could
-think to fool me with a lie about a dream; but you couldn't ever think
-to pity us and save us from sorrow."
-
-"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. I
-didn't, honest. And besides, I didn't come over here to laugh at you
-that night."
-
-"What did you come for, then?"
-
-"It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, because we hadn't got
-drownded."
-
-"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I could
-believe you ever had as good a thought as that, but you know you never
-did--and I know it, Tom."
-
-"Indeed and 'deed I did, auntie--I wish I may never stir if I didn't."
-
-"Oh, Tom, don't lie--don't do it. It only makes things a hundred times
-worse."
-
-"It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from
-grieving--that was all that made me come."
-
-"I'd give the whole world to believe that--it would cover up a power
-of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it
-ain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?"
-
-"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got
-all full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and I
-couldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my
-pocket and kept mum."
-
-"What bark?"
-
-"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now,
-you'd waked up when I kissed you--I do, honest."
-
-The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness
-dawned in her eyes.
-
-"DID you kiss me, Tom?"
-
-"Why, yes, I did."
-
-"Are you sure you did, Tom?"
-
-"Why, yes, I did, auntie--certain sure."
-
-"What did you kiss me for, Tom?"
-
-"Because I loved you so, and you laid there moaning and I was so sorry."
-
-The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor in
-her voice when she said:
-
-"Kiss me again, Tom!--and be off with you to school, now, and don't
-bother me any more."
-
-The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of a
-jacket which Tom had gone pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in her
-hand, and said to herself:
-
-"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about it--but it's a
-blessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort come from it. I hope the
-Lord--I KNOW the Lord will forgive him, because it was such
-goodheartedness in him to tell it. But I don't want to find out it's a
-lie. I won't look."
-
-She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she put
-out her hand to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Once
-more she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with the
-thought: "It's a good lie--it's a good lie--I won't let it grieve me."
-So she sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom's
-piece of bark through flowing tears and saying: "I could forgive the
-boy, now, if he'd committed a million sins!"
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX
-
-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!"
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI
-
-VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grew
-severer and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make a
-good showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldom
-idle now--at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and
-young ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins'
-lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, under
-his wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middle
-age, and there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the great
-day approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; he
-seemed to take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the least
-shortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys spent their
-days in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. They
-threw away no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But he kept
-ahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengeful
-success was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired from
-the field badly worsted. At last they conspired together and hit upon a
-plan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the sign-painter's
-boy, told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasons
-for being delighted, for the master boarded in his father's family and
-had given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would go
-on a visit to the country in a few days, and there would be nothing to
-interfere with the plan; the master always prepared himself for great
-occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the sign-painter's boy
-said that when the dominie had reached the proper condition on
-Examination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he napped in his
-chair; then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurried
-away to school.
-
-In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight in
-the evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned with
-wreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned in
-his great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him.
-He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side and
-six rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the town
-and by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of
-citizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated the
-scholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows of
-small boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort;
-rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad in
-lawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, their
-grandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon and
-the flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled with
-non-participating scholars.
-
-The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishly
-recited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on the
-stage," etc.--accompanying himself with the painfully exact and
-spasmodic gestures which a machine might have used--supposing the
-machine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through safely, though
-cruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made his
-manufactured bow and retired.
-
-A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc.,
-performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, and
-sat down flushed and happy.
-
-Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into
-the unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death"
-speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the
-middle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked under
-him and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of the
-house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than
-its sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom
-struggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weak
-attempt at applause, but it died early.
-
-"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian Came
-Down," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises,
-and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The
-prime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions"
-by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge of
-the platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with
-dainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to
-"expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had been
-illuminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, their
-grandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female line
-clear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories of Other
-Days"; "Religion in History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages of
-Culture"; "Forms of Political Government Compared and Contrasted";
-"Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart Longings," etc., etc.
-
-A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and petted
-melancholy; another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language";
-another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized words
-and phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity that
-conspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerable
-sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one
-of them. No matter what the subject might be, a brain-racking effort
-was made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral and
-religious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaring
-insincerity of these sermons was not sufficient to compass the
-banishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficient
-to-day; it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps.
-There is no school in all our land where the young ladies do not feel
-obliged to close their compositions with a sermon; and you will find
-that the sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl in
-the school is always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. But
-enough of this. Homely truth is unpalatable.
-
-Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that was
-read was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader can
-endure an extract from it:
-
- "In the common walks of life, with what delightful
- emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some
- anticipated scene of festivity! Imagination is busy
- sketching rose-tinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the
- voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the
- festive throng, 'the observed of all observers.' Her
- graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling
- through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is
- brightest, her step is lightest in the gay assembly.
-
- "In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by,
- and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into
- the Elysian world, of which she has had such bright
- dreams. How fairy-like does everything appear to
- her enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming
- than the last. But after a while she finds that
- beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity, the
- flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates
- harshly upon her ear; the ball-room has lost its
- charms; and with wasted health and imbittered heart,
- she turns away with the conviction that earthly
- pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul!"
-
-And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time to
-time during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "How
-sweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc., and after the thing had closed
-with a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic.
-
-Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting"
-paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem." Two
-stanzas of it will do:
-
- "A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA
-
- "Alabama, good-bye! I love thee well!
- But yet for a while do I leave thee now!
- Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell,
- And burning recollections throng my brow!
- For I have wandered through thy flowery woods;
- Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream;
- Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods,
- And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam.
-
- "Yet shame I not to bear an o'er-full heart,
- Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes;
- 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part,
- 'Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs.
- Welcome and home were mine within this State,
- Whose vales I leave--whose spires fade fast from me
- And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete,
- When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee!"
-
-There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem was
-very satisfactory, nevertheless.
-
-Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, black-haired young
-lady, who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, and
-began to read in a measured, solemn tone:
-
- "A VISION
-
- "Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the
- throne on high not a single star quivered; but
- the deep intonations of the heavy thunder
- constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the
- terrific lightning revelled in angry mood
- through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming
- to scorn the power exerted over its terror by
- the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous
- winds unanimously came forth from their mystic
- homes, and blustered about as if to enhance by
- their aid the wildness of the scene.
-
- "At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human
- sympathy my very spirit sighed; but instead thereof,
-
- "'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter
- and guide--My joy in grief, my second bliss
- in joy,' came to my side. She moved like one of
- those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks
- of fancy's Eden by the romantic and young, a
- queen of beauty unadorned save by her own
- transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it
- failed to make even a sound, and but for the
- magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as
- other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided
- away un-perceived--unsought. A strange sadness
- rested upon her features, like icy tears upon
- the robe of December, as she pointed to the
- contending elements without, and bade me contemplate
- the two beings presented."
-
-This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up with
-a sermon so destructive of all hope to non-Presbyterians that it took
-the first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finest
-effort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering the
-prize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that it
-was by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that
-Daniel Webster himself might well be proud of it.
-
-It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in
-which the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experience
-referred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average.
-
-Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair
-aside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map of
-America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But he
-made a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered
-titter rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and set
-himself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he only
-distorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced.
-He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined not
-to be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened upon
-him; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it
-even manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a garret above,
-pierced with a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttle
-came a cat, suspended around the haunches by a string; she had a rag
-tied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she slowly
-descended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swung
-downward and clawed at the intangible air. The tittering rose higher
-and higher--the cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher's
-head--down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with her
-desperate claws, clung to it, and was snatched up into the garret in an
-instant with her trophy still in her possession! And how the light did
-blaze abroad from the master's bald pate--for the sign-painter's boy
-had GILDED it!
-
-That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come.
-
- NOTE:--The pretended "compositions" quoted in
- this chapter are taken without alteration from a
- volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a Western
- Lady"--but they are exactly and precisely after
- the schoolgirl pattern, and hence are much
- happier than any mere imitations could be.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII
-
-TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted by
-the showy character of their "regalia." He promised to abstain from
-smoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member. Now he
-found out a new thing--namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the
-surest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that very
-thing. Tom soon found himself tormented with a desire to drink and
-swear; the desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of a
-chance to display himself in his red sash kept him from withdrawing
-from the order. Fourth of July was coming; but he soon gave that up
---gave it up before he had worn his shackles over forty-eight hours--and
-fixed his hopes upon old Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who was
-apparently on his deathbed and would have a big public funeral, since
-he was so high an official. During three days Tom was deeply concerned
-about the Judge's condition and hungry for news of it. Sometimes his
-hopes ran high--so high that he would venture to get out his regalia
-and practise before the looking-glass. But the Judge had a most
-discouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was pronounced upon the
-mend--and then convalescent. Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense of
-injury, too. He handed in his resignation at once--and that night the
-Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom resolved that he would never
-trust a man like that again.
-
-The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculated
-to kill the late member with envy. Tom was a free boy again, however
---there was something in that. He could drink and swear, now--but found
-to his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he could,
-took the desire away, and the charm of it.
-
-Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginning
-to hang a little heavily on his hands.
-
-He attempted a diary--but nothing happened during three days, and so
-he abandoned it.
-
-The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made a
-sensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a band of performers and were
-happy for two days.
-
-Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rained
-hard, there was no procession in consequence, and the greatest man in
-the world (as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United States
-Senator, proved an overwhelming disappointment--for he was not
-twenty-five feet high, nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it.
-
-A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward in
-tents made of rag carpeting--admission, three pins for boys, two for
-girls--and then circusing was abandoned.
-
-A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came--and went again and left the
-village duller and drearier than ever.
-
-There were some boys-and-girls' parties, but they were so few and so
-delightful that they only made the aching voids between ache the harder.
-
-Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with her
-parents during vacation--so there was no bright side to life anywhere.
-
-The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a very
-cancer for permanency and pain.
-
-Then came the measles.
-
-During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its
-happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got
-upon his feet at last and moved feebly down-town, a melancholy change
-had come over everything and every creature. There had been a
-"revival," and everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but
-even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the
-sight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him
-everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly
-away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him
-visiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who
-called his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as a
-warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression;
-and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of
-Huckleberry Finn and was received with a Scriptural quotation, his
-heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all
-the town was lost, forever and forever.
-
-And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain,
-awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his
-head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his
-doom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was
-about him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers above
-to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might
-have seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a
-battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the
-getting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turf
-from under an insect like himself.
-
-By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its
-object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His
-second was to wait--for there might not be any more storms.
-
-The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks
-he spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad
-at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how
-lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted
-listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a
-juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her
-victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a
-stolen melon. Poor lads! they--like Tom--had suffered a relapse.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII
-
-AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred--and vigorously: the murder
-trial came on in the court. It became the absorbing topic of village
-talk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference to
-the murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience and
-fears almost persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in his
-hearing as "feelers"; he did not see how he could be suspected of
-knowing anything about the murder, but still he could not be
-comfortable in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiver
-all the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him.
-It would be some relief to unseal his tongue for a little while; to
-divide his burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, he
-wanted to assure himself that Huck had remained discreet.
-
-"Huck, have you ever told anybody about--that?"
-
-"'Bout what?"
-
-"You know what."
-
-"Oh--'course I haven't."
-
-"Never a word?"
-
-"Never a solitary word, so help me. What makes you ask?"
-
-"Well, I was afeard."
-
-"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out.
-YOU know that."
-
-Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause:
-
-"Huck, they couldn't anybody get you to tell, could they?"
-
-"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that half-breed devil to drownd me
-they could get me to tell. They ain't no different way."
-
-"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keep
-mum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's more surer."
-
-"I'm agreed."
-
-So they swore again with dread solemnities.
-
-"What is the talk around, Huck? I've heard a power of it."
-
-"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all the
-time. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I want to hide som'ers."
-
-"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner.
-Don't you feel sorry for him, sometimes?"
-
-"Most always--most always. He ain't no account; but then he hain't
-ever done anything to hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get money
-to get drunk on--and loafs around considerable; but lord, we all do
-that--leastways most of us--preachers and such like. But he's kind of
-good--he give me half a fish, once, when there warn't enough for two;
-and lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck."
-
-"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to my
-line. I wish we could get him out of there."
-
-"My! we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do any
-good; they'd ketch him again."
-
-"Yes--so they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like the
-dickens when he never done--that."
-
-"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest looking
-villain in this country, and they wonder he wasn't ever hung before."
-
-"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if he
-was to get free they'd lynch him."
-
-"And they'd do it, too."
-
-The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As the
-twilight drew on, they found themselves hanging about the neighborhood
-of the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope that
-something would happen that might clear away their difficulties. But
-nothing happened; there seemed to be no angels or fairies interested in
-this luckless captive.
-
-The boys did as they had often done before--went to the cell grating
-and gave Potter some tobacco and matches. He was on the ground floor
-and there were no guards.
-
-His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciences
-before--it cut deeper than ever, this time. They felt cowardly and
-treacherous to the last degree when Potter said:
-
-"You've been mighty good to me, boys--better'n anybody else in this
-town. And I don't forget it, I don't. Often I says to myself, says I,
-'I used to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where the
-good fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they've
-all forgot old Muff when he's in trouble; but Tom don't, and Huck
-don't--THEY don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them.' Well,
-boys, I done an awful thing--drunk and crazy at the time--that's the
-only way I account for it--and now I got to swing for it, and it's
-right. Right, and BEST, too, I reckon--hope so, anyway. Well, we won't
-talk about that. I don't want to make YOU feel bad; you've befriended
-me. But what I want to say, is, don't YOU ever get drunk--then you won't
-ever get here. Stand a litter furder west--so--that's it; it's a prime
-comfort to see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck of
-trouble, and there don't none come here but yourn. Good friendly
-faces--good friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let me
-touch 'em. That's it. Shake hands--yourn'll come through the bars, but
-mine's too big. Little hands, and weak--but they've helped Muff Potter
-a power, and they'd help him more if they could."
-
-Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of
-horrors. The next day and the day after, he hung about the court-room,
-drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself
-to stay out. Huck was having the same experience. They studiously
-avoided each other. Each wandered away, from time to time, but the same
-dismal fascination always brought them back presently. Tom kept his
-ears open when idlers sauntered out of the court-room, but invariably
-heard distressing news--the toils were closing more and more
-relentlessly around poor Potter. At the end of the second day the
-village talk was to the effect that Injun Joe's evidence stood firm and
-unshaken, and that there was not the slightest question as to what the
-jury's verdict would be.
-
-Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He
-was in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got to
-sleep. All the village flocked to the court-house the next morning, for
-this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented
-in the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and took
-their places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and
-hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all
-the curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous was Injun Joe,
-stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and
-the sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings
-among the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. These
-details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation
-that was as impressive as it was fascinating.
-
-Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potter
-washing in the brook, at an early hour of the morning that the murder
-was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After some
-further questioning, counsel for the prosecution said:
-
-"Take the witness."
-
-The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again when
-his own counsel said:
-
-"I have no questions to ask him."
-
-The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse.
-Counsel for the prosecution said:
-
-"Take the witness."
-
-"I have no questions to ask him," Potter's lawyer replied.
-
-A third witness swore he had often seen the knife in Potter's
-possession.
-
-"Take the witness."
-
-Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audience
-began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to throw away his
-client's life without an effort?
-
-Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior when
-brought to the scene of the murder. They were allowed to leave the
-stand without being cross-questioned.
-
-Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the
-graveyard upon that morning which all present remembered so well was
-brought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were cross-examined
-by Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house
-expressed itself in murmurs and provoked a reproof from the bench.
-Counsel for the prosecution now said:
-
-"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, we
-have fastened this awful crime, beyond all possibility of question,
-upon the unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here."
-
-A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands and
-rocked his body softly to and fro, while a painful silence reigned in
-the court-room. Many men were moved, and many women's compassion
-testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and said:
-
-"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we
-foreshadowed our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed
-while under the influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium
-produced by drink. We have changed our mind. We shall not offer that
-plea." [Then to the clerk:] "Call Thomas Sawyer!"
-
-A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even
-excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest
-upon Tom as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked
-wild enough, for he was badly scared. The oath was administered.
-
-"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the
-hour of midnight?"
-
-Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The
-audience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After a
-few moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and
-managed to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the house
-hear:
-
-"In the graveyard!"
-
-"A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were--"
-
-"In the graveyard."
-
-A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face.
-
-"Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"Speak up--just a trifle louder. How near were you?"
-
-"Near as I am to you."
-
-"Were you hidden, or not?"
-
-"I was hid."
-
-"Where?"
-
-"Behind the elms that's on the edge of the grave."
-
-Injun Joe gave a barely perceptible start.
-
-"Any one with you?"
-
-"Yes, sir. I went there with--"
-
-"Wait--wait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. We
-will produce him at the proper time. Did you carry anything there with
-you."
-
-Tom hesitated and looked confused.
-
-"Speak out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is always
-respectable. What did you take there?"
-
-"Only a--a--dead cat."
-
-There was a ripple of mirth, which the court checked.
-
-"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell us
-everything that occurred--tell it in your own way--don't skip anything,
-and don't be afraid."
-
-Tom began--hesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject his
-words flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound ceased
-but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips
-and bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of
-time, rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon
-pent emotion reached its climax when the boy said:
-
-"--and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell,
-Injun Joe jumped with the knife and--"
-
-Crash! Quick as lightning the half-breed sprang for a window, tore his
-way through all opposers, and was gone!
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV
-
-TOM was a glittering hero once more--the pet of the old, the envy of
-the young. His name even went into immortal print, for the village
-paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be
-President, yet, if he escaped hanging.
-
-As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom
-and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sort
-of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to find
-fault with it.
-
-Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights
-were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and always
-with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy to
-stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of
-wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer
-the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid
-that his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding
-Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court.
-The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of
-that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to the
-lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had been
-sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's
-confidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated.
-
-Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly
-he wished he had sealed up his tongue.
-
-Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the
-other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw
-a safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse.
-
-Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun
-Joe was found. One of those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a
-detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head,
-looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of
-that craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew." But you
-can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got
-through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before.
-
-The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened
-weight of apprehension.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV
-
-THERE comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy's life when he has
-a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This
-desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe
-Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone
-fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck
-would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to
-him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a
-hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no
-capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time
-which is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck.
-
-"Oh, most anywhere."
-
-"Why, is it hid all around?"
-
-"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck
---sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a
-limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but
-mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses."
-
-"Who hides it?"
-
-"Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? Sunday-school
-sup'rintendents?"
-
-"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and have
-a good time."
-
-"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and
-leave it there."
-
-"Don't they come after it any more?"
-
-"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or
-else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by
-and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the
-marks--a paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's
-mostly signs and hy'roglyphics."
-
-"Hyro--which?"
-
-"Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean
-anything."
-
-"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Well then, how you going to find the marks?"
-
-"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or
-on an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out.
-Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again
-some time; and there's the old ha'nted house up the Still-House branch,
-and there's lots of dead-limb trees--dead loads of 'em."
-
-"Is it under all of them?"
-
-"How you talk! No!"
-
-"Then how you going to know which one to go for?"
-
-"Go for all of 'em!"
-
-"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer."
-
-"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred
-dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds.
-How's that?"
-
-Huck's eyes glowed.
-
-"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred
-dollars and I don't want no di'monds."
-
-"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some
-of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there ain't any, hardly, but's
-worth six bits or a dollar."
-
-"No! Is that so?"
-
-"Cert'nly--anybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?"
-
-"Not as I remember."
-
-"Oh, kings have slathers of them."
-
-"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom."
-
-"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft
-of 'em hopping around."
-
-"Do they hop?"
-
-"Hop?--your granny! No!"
-
-"Well, what did you say they did, for?"
-
-"Shucks, I only meant you'd SEE 'em--not hopping, of course--what do
-they want to hop for?--but I mean you'd just see 'em--scattered around,
-you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard."
-
-"Richard? What's his other name?"
-
-"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name."
-
-"No?"
-
-"But they don't."
-
-"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a king
-and have only just a given name, like a nigger. But say--where you
-going to dig first?"
-
-"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the
-hill t'other side of Still-House branch?"
-
-"I'm agreed."
-
-So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their
-three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves
-down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke.
-
-"I like this," said Tom.
-
-"So do I."
-
-"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your
-share?"
-
-"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to
-every circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time."
-
-"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?"
-
-"Save it? What for?"
-
-"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by."
-
-"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some
-day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'd
-clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?"
-
-"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure-'nough sword, and a red
-necktie and a bull pup, and get married."
-
-"Married!"
-
-"That's it."
-
-"Tom, you--why, you ain't in your right mind."
-
-"Wait--you'll see."
-
-"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my
-mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty
-well."
-
-"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight."
-
-"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you
-better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the name
-of the gal?"
-
-"It ain't a gal at all--it's a girl."
-
-"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl--both's
-right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?"
-
-"I'll tell you some time--not now."
-
-"All right--that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer
-than ever."
-
-"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and
-we'll go to digging."
-
-They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled
-another half-hour. Still no result. Huck said:
-
-"Do they always bury it as deep as this?"
-
-"Sometimes--not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got the
-right place."
-
-So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little,
-but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some
-time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from
-his brow with his sleeve, and said:
-
-"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?"
-
-"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on
-Cardiff Hill back of the widow's."
-
-"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from
-us, Tom? It's on her land."
-
-"SHE take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one
-of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any difference
-whose land it's on."
-
-That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said:
-
-"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?"
-
-"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches
-interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now."
-
-"Shucks! Witches ain't got no power in the daytime."
-
-"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter
-is! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the
-shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!"
-
-"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now
-hang it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way.
-Can you get out?"
-
-"I bet I will. We've got to do it to-night, too, because if somebody
-sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll go
-for it."
-
-"Well, I'll come around and maow to-night."
-
-"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes."
-
-The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in
-the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by
-old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked
-in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the
-distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were
-subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged
-that twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to
-dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and
-their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened,
-but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon
-something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone
-or a chunk. At last Tom said:
-
-"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again."
-
-"Well, but we CAN'T be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot."
-
-"I know it, but then there's another thing."
-
-"What's that?".
-
-"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too
-early."
-
-Huck dropped his shovel.
-
-"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this
-one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of
-thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts
-a-fluttering around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time;
-and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in front
-a-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here."
-
-"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a
-dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it."
-
-"Lordy!"
-
-"Yes, they do. I've always heard that."
-
-"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A
-body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure."
-
-"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to
-stick his skull out and say something!"
-
-"Don't Tom! It's awful."
-
-"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit."
-
-"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else."
-
-"All right, I reckon we better."
-
-"What'll it be?"
-
-Tom considered awhile; and then said:
-
-"The ha'nted house. That's it!"
-
-"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight
-worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't come
-sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over your
-shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I
-couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom--nobody could."
-
-"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't
-hender us from digging there in the daytime."
-
-"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that
-ha'nted house in the day nor the night."
-
-"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been
-murdered, anyway--but nothing's ever been seen around that house except
-in the night--just some blue lights slipping by the windows--no regular
-ghosts."
-
-"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom,
-you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to
-reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em."
-
-"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so
-what's the use of our being afeard?"
-
-"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so--but I
-reckon it's taking chances."
-
-They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of
-the moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly
-isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very
-doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a
-corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to
-see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as
-befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the
-right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way
-homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff
-Hill.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI
-
-ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree; they had
-come for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted house;
-Huck was measurably so, also--but suddenly said:
-
-"Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?"
-
-Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly lifted
-his eyes with a startled look in them--
-
-"My! I never once thought of it, Huck!"
-
-"Well, I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it was
-Friday."
-
-"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into an
-awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday."
-
-"MIGHT! Better say we WOULD! There's some lucky days, maybe, but
-Friday ain't."
-
-"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon YOU was the first that found it
-out, Huck."
-
-"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I had
-a rotten bad dream last night--dreampt about rats."
-
-"No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that
-there's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mighty
-sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for to-day, and play.
-Do you know Robin Hood, Huck?"
-
-"No. Who's Robin Hood?"
-
-"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England--and the
-best. He was a robber."
-
-"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?"
-
-"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like.
-But he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up with
-'em perfectly square."
-
-"Well, he must 'a' been a brick."
-
-"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was.
-They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man in
-England, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew bow
-and plug a ten-cent piece every time, a mile and a half."
-
-"What's a YEW bow?"
-
-"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit that
-dime only on the edge he would set down and cry--and curse. But we'll
-play Robin Hood--it's nobby fun. I'll learn you."
-
-"I'm agreed."
-
-So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting a
-yearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark about the
-morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sink
-into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows of
-the trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of Cardiff
-Hill.
-
-On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again.
-They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little in
-their last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said there
-were so many cases where people had given up a treasure after getting
-down within six inches of it, and then somebody else had come along and
-turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed this
-time, however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feeling
-that they had not trifled with fortune, but had fulfilled all the
-requirements that belong to the business of treasure-hunting.
-
-When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and
-grisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun,
-and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the
-place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they
-crept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weed-grown,
-floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, a
-ruinous staircase; and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and
-abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickened
-pulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound,
-and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat.
-
-In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the
-place a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their own
-boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look up-stairs.
-This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring
-each other, and of course there could be but one result--they threw
-their tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the same
-signs of decay. In one corner they found a closet that promised
-mystery, but the promise was a fraud--there was nothing in it. Their
-courage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down and
-begin work when--
-
-"Sh!" said Tom.
-
-"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright.
-
-"Sh!... There!... Hear it?"
-
-"Yes!... Oh, my! Let's run!"
-
-"Keep still! Don't you budge! They're coming right toward the door."
-
-The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to
-knot-holes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear.
-
-"They've stopped.... No--coming.... Here they are. Don't whisper
-another word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this!"
-
-Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: "There's the old deaf and
-dumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice lately--never saw
-t'other man before."
-
-"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant
-in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy white
-whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he wore
-green goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice;
-they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their backs to the
-wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became less
-guarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded:
-
-"No," said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it. It's
-dangerous."
-
-"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard--to the vast
-surprise of the boys. "Milksop!"
-
-This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There was
-silence for some time. Then Joe said:
-
-"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonder--but nothing's come
-of it."
-
-"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about.
-'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we didn't succeed."
-
-"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytime!--anybody
-would suspicion us that saw us."
-
-"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that
-fool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only
-it warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys
-playing over there on the hill right in full view."
-
-"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of this
-remark, and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it was
-Friday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they
-had waited a year.
-
-The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long and
-thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said:
-
-"Look here, lad--you go back up the river where you belong. Wait there
-till you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into this town
-just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I've
-spied around a little and think things look well for it. Then for
-Texas! We'll leg it together!"
-
-This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and Injun
-Joe said:
-
-"I'm dead for sleep! It's your turn to watch."
-
-He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade
-stirred him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcher
-began to nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snore
-now.
-
-The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered:
-
-"Now's our chance--come!"
-
-Huck said:
-
-"I can't--I'd die if they was to wake."
-
-Tom urged--Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and
-started alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creak
-from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He
-never made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the dragging
-moments till it seemed to them that time must be done and eternity
-growing gray; and then they were grateful to note that at last the sun
-was setting.
-
-Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around--smiled grimly
-upon his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his knees--stirred him
-up with his foot and said:
-
-"Here! YOU'RE a watchman, ain't you! All right, though--nothing's
-happened."
-
-"My! have I been asleep?"
-
-"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll we
-do with what little swag we've got left?"
-
-"I don't know--leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use to
-take it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in silver's
-something to carry."
-
-"Well--all right--it won't matter to come here once more."
-
-"No--but I'd say come in the night as we used to do--it's better."
-
-"Yes: but look here; it may be a good while before I get the right
-chance at that job; accidents might happen; 'tain't in such a very good
-place; we'll just regularly bury it--and bury it deep."
-
-"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down,
-raised one of the rearward hearth-stones and took out a bag that
-jingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars for
-himself and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter,
-who was on his knees in the corner, now, digging with his bowie-knife.
-
-The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant.
-With gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luck!--the splendor of
-it was beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough to
-make half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasure-hunting under the
-happiest auspices--there would not be any bothersome uncertainty as to
-where to dig. They nudged each other every moment--eloquent nudges and
-easily understood, for they simply meant--"Oh, but ain't you glad NOW
-we're here!"
-
-Joe's knife struck upon something.
-
-"Hello!" said he.
-
-"What is it?" said his comrade.
-
-"Half-rotten plank--no, it's a box, I believe. Here--bear a hand and
-we'll see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole."
-
-He reached his hand in and drew it out--
-
-"Man, it's money!"
-
-The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boys
-above were as excited as themselves, and as delighted.
-
-Joe's comrade said:
-
-"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongst
-the weeds in the corner the other side of the fireplace--I saw it a
-minute ago."
-
-He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the pick,
-looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something to
-himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It was
-not very large; it was iron bound and had been very strong before the
-slow years had injured it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile in
-blissful silence.
-
-"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here," said Injun Joe.
-
-"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one
-summer," the stranger observed.
-
-"I know it," said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say."
-
-"Now you won't need to do that job."
-
-The half-breed frowned. Said he:
-
-"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't
-robbery altogether--it's REVENGE!" and a wicked light flamed in his
-eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished--then Texas. Go
-home to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me."
-
-"Well--if you say so; what'll we do with this--bury it again?"
-
-"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] NO! by the great Sachem, no!
-[Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had fresh
-earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What
-business has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth
-on them? Who brought them here--and where are they gone? Have you heard
-anybody?--seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come and
-see the ground disturbed? Not exactly--not exactly. We'll take it to my
-den."
-
-"Why, of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean Number
-One?"
-
-"No--Number Two--under the cross. The other place is bad--too common."
-
-"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start."
-
-Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously
-peeping out. Presently he said:
-
-"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can be
-up-stairs?"
-
-The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife,
-halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the stairway. The
-boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps came
-creaking up the stairs--the intolerable distress of the situation woke
-the stricken resolution of the lads--they were about to spring for the
-closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landed
-on the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gathered
-himself up cursing, and his comrade said:
-
-"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up
-there, let them STAY there--who cares? If they want to jump down, now,
-and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes
---and then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my
-opinion, whoever hove those things in here caught a sight of us and
-took us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're running
-yet."
-
-Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his friend that what daylight
-was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving.
-Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening
-twilight, and moved toward the river with their precious box.
-
-Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them
-through the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they.
-They were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and take
-the townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were too
-much absorbed in hating themselves--hating the ill luck that made them
-take the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never would
-have suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to wait
-there till his "revenge" was satisfied, and then he would have had the
-misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that
-the tools were ever brought there!
-
-They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come
-to town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow him
-to "Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought
-occurred to Tom.
-
-"Revenge? What if he means US, Huck!"
-
-"Oh, don't!" said Huck, nearly fainting.
-
-They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to
-believe that he might possibly mean somebody else--at least that he
-might at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified.
-
-Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Company
-would be a palpable improvement, he thought.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII
-
-THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night.
-Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times it
-wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and
-wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay
-in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he
-noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away--somewhat as if
-they had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it
-occurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a dream! There
-was one very strong argument in favor of this idea--namely, that the
-quantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen
-as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boys
-of his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all references
-to "hundreds" and "thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, and
-that no such sums really existed in the world. He never had supposed
-for a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found
-in actual money in any one's possession. If his notions of hidden
-treasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of a
-handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable
-dollars.
-
-But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer
-under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found
-himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a
-dream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch
-a hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on the
-gunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water and
-looking very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the
-subject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to
-have been only a dream.
-
-"Hello, Huck!"
-
-"Hello, yourself."
-
-Silence, for a minute.
-
-"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got
-the money. Oh, ain't it awful!"
-
-"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was.
-Dog'd if I don't, Huck."
-
-"What ain't a dream?"
-
-"Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was."
-
-"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream
-it was! I've had dreams enough all night--with that patch-eyed Spanish
-devil going for me all through 'em--rot him!"
-
-"No, not rot him. FIND him! Track the money!"
-
-"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for
-such a pile--and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see
-him, anyway."
-
-"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway--and track him out--to
-his Number Two."
-
-"Number Two--yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't
-make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?"
-
-"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck--maybe it's the number of a house!"
-
-"Goody!... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this
-one-horse town. They ain't no numbers here."
-
-"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here--it's the number of a
-room--in a tavern, you know!"
-
-"Oh, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find out
-quick."
-
-"You stay here, Huck, till I come."
-
-Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in public
-places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best tavern, No.
-2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied.
-In the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. The
-tavern-keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time, and he
-never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night; he did
-not know any particular reason for this state of things; had had some
-little curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most of the
-mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was
-"ha'nted"; had noticed that there was a light in there the night before.
-
-"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. 2
-we're after."
-
-"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?"
-
-"Lemme think."
-
-Tom thought a long time. Then he said:
-
-"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes out
-into that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trap
-of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the door-keys you can find,
-and I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there
-and try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he
-said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a
-chance to get his revenge. If you see him, you just follow him; and if
-he don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place."
-
-"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself!"
-
-"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you--and if he did,
-maybe he'd never think anything."
-
-"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I dono--I dono.
-I'll try."
-
-"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' found
-out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money."
-
-"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!"
-
-"Now you're TALKING! Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't."
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII
-
-THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung
-about the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching the
-alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the
-alley or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the
-tavern door. The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went home with
-the understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on,
-Huck was to come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the
-keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and
-retired to bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve.
-
-Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday
-night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt's
-old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid the
-lantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour before
-midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones
-thereabouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had
-entered or left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of
-darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by
-occasional mutterings of distant thunder.
-
-Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the
-towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern.
-Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was a
-season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a
-mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the lantern--it
-would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive
-yet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have
-fainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst under terror and
-excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer and
-closer to the alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and
-momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take away
-his breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able to
-inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out, the
-way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom came
-tearing by him: "Run!" said he; "run, for your life!"
-
-He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirty
-or forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys
-never stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughter-house
-at the lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter
-the storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his breath
-he said:
-
-"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could;
-but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I couldn't hardly
-get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either.
-Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, and
-open comes the door! It warn't locked! I hopped in, and shook off the
-towel, and, GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!"
-
-"What!--what'd you see, Tom?"
-
-"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand!"
-
-"No!"
-
-"Yes! He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old
-patch on his eye and his arms spread out."
-
-"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?"
-
-"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and
-started!"
-
-"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet!"
-
-"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it."
-
-"Say, Tom, did you see that box?"
-
-"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn't
-see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup on the
-floor by Injun Joe; yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in the
-room. Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that ha'nted room?"
-
-"How?"
-
-"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey! Maybe ALL the Temperance Taverns have
-got a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?"
-
-"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? But
-say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun Joe's
-drunk."
-
-"It is, that! You try it!"
-
-Huck shuddered.
-
-"Well, no--I reckon not."
-
-"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain't
-enough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do it."
-
-There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said:
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know Injun
-Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now, if we watch every night, we'll
-be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'll
-snatch that box quicker'n lightning."
-
-"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it
-every night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job."
-
-"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street a
-block and maow--and if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the window
-and that'll fetch me."
-
-"Agreed, and good as wheat!"
-
-"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be
-daylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, will
-you?"
-
-"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night
-for a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night."
-
-"That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?"
-
-"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man,
-Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and
-any time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he can
-spare it. That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don't
-ever act as if I was above him. Sometime I've set right down and eat
-WITH him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when
-he's awful hungry he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing."
-
-"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won't
-come bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the night,
-just skip right around and maow."
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX
-
-THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news
---Judge Thatcher's family had come back to town the night before. Both
-Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment,
-and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her and
-they had an exhausting good time playing "hi-spy" and "gully-keeper"
-with a crowd of their school-mates. The day was completed and crowned
-in a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appoint
-the next day for the long-promised and long-delayed picnic, and she
-consented. The child's delight was boundless; and Tom's not more
-moderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway
-the young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparation
-and pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keep
-awake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's
-"maow," and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickers
-with, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night.
-
-Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy and
-rollicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher's, and everything
-was ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar
-the picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe
-enough under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a few
-young gentlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old steam ferryboat
-was chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up the
-main street laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had to miss
-the fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs.
-Thatcher said to Becky, was:
-
-"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night
-with some of the girls that live near the ferry-landing, child."
-
-"Then I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma."
-
-"Very well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble."
-
-Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky:
-
-"Say--I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's
-we'll climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'll
-have ice-cream! She has it most every day--dead loads of it. And she'll
-be awful glad to have us."
-
-"Oh, that will be fun!"
-
-Then Becky reflected a moment and said:
-
-"But what will mamma say?"
-
-"How'll she ever know?"
-
-The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly:
-
-"I reckon it's wrong--but--"
-
-"But shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she
-wants is that you'll be safe; and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there if
-she'd 'a' thought of it. I know she would!"
-
-The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and
-Tom's persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to say
-nothing anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to
-Tom that maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The
-thought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still he
-could not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he
-give it up, he reasoned--the signal did not come the night before, so
-why should it be any more likely to come to-night? The sure fun of the
-evening outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boy-like, he determined
-to yield to the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of
-the box of money another time that day.
-
-Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody
-hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest
-distances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and
-laughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gone
-through with, and by-and-by the rovers straggled back to camp fortified
-with responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good things
-began. After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chat
-in the shade of spreading oaks. By-and-by somebody shouted:
-
-"Who's ready for the cave?"
-
-Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there
-was a general scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the
-hillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door
-stood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an ice-house, and
-walled by Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat.
-It was romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look
-out upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of
-the situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment
-a candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a
-struggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon
-knocked down or blown out, and then there was a glad clamor of laughter
-and a new chase. But all things have an end. By-and-by the procession
-went filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickering
-rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to their
-point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not more
-than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still
-narrower crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cave
-was but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and
-out again and led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and
-nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and
-never find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and down,
-and still down, into the earth, and it was just the same--labyrinth
-under labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the cave.
-That was an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion of
-it, and it was not customary to venture much beyond this known portion.
-Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one.
-
-The procession moved along the main avenue some three-quarters of a
-mile, and then groups and couples began to slip aside into branch
-avenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other by
-surprise at points where the corridors joined again. Parties were able
-to elude each other for the space of half an hour without going beyond
-the "known" ground.
-
-By-and-by, one group after another came straggling back to the mouth
-of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallow
-drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of
-the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking no
-note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell had
-been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's
-adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat
-with her wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for
-the wasted time but the captain of the craft.
-
-Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights went
-glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the young
-people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly
-tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop
-at the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put his
-attention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten
-o'clock came, and the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began
-to wink out, all straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the village
-betook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the
-silence and the ghosts. Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were
-put out; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long
-time, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use?
-Was there really any use? Why not give it up and turn in?
-
-A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The
-alley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store.
-The next moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have
-something under his arm. It must be that box! So they were going to
-remove the treasure. Why call Tom now? It would be absurd--the men
-would get away with the box and never be found again. No, he would
-stick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the darkness for
-security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped out
-and glided along behind the men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowing
-them to keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible.
-
-They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left
-up a cross-street. They went straight ahead, then, until they came to
-the path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by the
-old Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without hesitating, and
-still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the old
-quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the
-summit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach
-bushes, and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and
-shortened his distance, now, for they would never be able to see him.
-He trotted along awhile; then slackened his pace, fearing he was
-gaining too fast; moved on a piece, then stopped altogether; listened;
-no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the beating of his own
-heart. The hooting of an owl came over the hill--ominous sound! But no
-footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring with
-winged feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet from him!
-Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he swallowed it again; and then
-he stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at
-once, and so weak that he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He
-knew where he was. He knew he was within five steps of the stile
-leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let them
-bury it there; it won't be hard to find.
-
-Now there was a voice--a very low voice--Injun Joe's:
-
-"Damn her, maybe she's got company--there's lights, late as it is."
-
-"I can't see any."
-
-This was that stranger's voice--the stranger of the haunted house. A
-deadly chill went to Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job!
-His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had
-been kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to
-murder her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but he knew he
-didn't dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all this and
-more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun
-Joe's next--which was--
-
-"Because the bush is in your way. Now--this way--now you see, don't
-you?"
-
-"Yes. Well, there IS company there, I reckon. Better give it up."
-
-"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up and
-maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you
-before, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband was
-rough on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was the
-justice of the peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all.
-It ain't a millionth part of it! He had me HORSEWHIPPED!--horsewhipped
-in front of the jail, like a nigger!--with all the town looking on!
-HORSEWHIPPED!--do you understand? He took advantage of me and died. But
-I'll take it out of HER."
-
-"Oh, don't kill her! Don't do that!"
-
-"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he was
-here; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't
-kill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notch
-her ears like a sow!"
-
-"By God, that's--"
-
-"Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tie
-her to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry,
-if she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thing--for MY sake
---that's why you're here--I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll
-kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill
-her--and then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this
-business."
-
-"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the
-better--I'm all in a shiver."
-
-"Do it NOW? And company there? Look here--I'll get suspicious of you,
-first thing you know. No--we'll wait till the lights are out--there's
-no hurry."
-
-Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awful
-than any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped
-gingerly back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing,
-one-legged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one
-side and then on the other. He took another step back, with the same
-elaboration and the same risks; then another and another, and--a twig
-snapped under his foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There was
-no sound--the stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Now
-he turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes--turned
-himself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then stepped quickly but
-cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and so
-he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he
-reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads
-of the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows.
-
-"What's the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?"
-
-"Let me in--quick! I'll tell everything."
-
-"Why, who are you?"
-
-"Huckleberry Finn--quick, let me in!"
-
-"Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, I
-judge! But let him in, lads, and let's see what's the trouble."
-
-"Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he
-got in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, sure--but the widow's been good
-friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I WILL tell if you'll
-promise you won't ever say it was me."
-
-"By George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!"
-exclaimed the old man; "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell, lad."
-
-Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the
-hill, and just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in
-their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great
-bowlder and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence,
-and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry.
-
-Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill
-as fast as his legs could carry him.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXX
-
-AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck
-came groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door.
-The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a
-hair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call
-came from a window:
-
-"Who's there!"
-
-Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone:
-
-"Please let me in! It's only Huck Finn!"
-
-"It's a name that can open this door night or day, lad!--and welcome!"
-
-These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the
-pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closing
-word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly
-unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his
-brace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves.
-
-"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be
-ready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too
---make yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and
-stop here last night."
-
-"I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the
-pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuz
-I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz I
-didn't want to run across them devils, even if they was dead."
-
-"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it--but
-there's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they
-ain't dead, lad--we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right
-where to put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept along
-on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellar
-that sumach path was--and just then I found I was going to sneeze. It
-was the meanest kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use
---'twas bound to come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my pistol
-raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling to get
-out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place
-where the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy,
-those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge we
-never touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their
-bullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the
-sound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the
-constables. They got a posse together, and went off to guard the river
-bank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going to
-beat up the woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we had
-some sort of description of those rascals--'twould help a good deal.
-But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?"
-
-"Oh yes; I saw them down-town and follered them."
-
-"Splendid! Describe them--describe them, my boy!"
-
-"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or
-twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--"
-
-"That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods
-back of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys,
-and tell the sheriff--get your breakfast to-morrow morning!"
-
-The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room
-Huck sprang up and exclaimed:
-
-"Oh, please don't tell ANYbody it was me that blowed on them! Oh,
-please!"
-
-"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of
-what you did."
-
-"Oh no, no! Please don't tell!"
-
-When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said:
-
-"They won't tell--and I won't. But why don't you want it known?"
-
-Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too
-much about one of those men and would not have the man know that he
-knew anything against him for the whole world--he would be killed for
-knowing it, sure.
-
-The old man promised secrecy once more, and said:
-
-"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking
-suspicious?"
-
-Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said:
-
-"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot,--least everybody says so,
-and I don't see nothing agin it--and sometimes I can't sleep much, on
-account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way
-of doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I
-come along up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I
-got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed
-up agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes
-these two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their
-arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was a-smoking, and t'other one
-wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up
-their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard,
-by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a
-rusty, ragged-looking devil."
-
-"Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?"
-
-This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said:
-
-"Well, I don't know--but somehow it seems as if I did."
-
-"Then they went on, and you--"
-
-"Follered 'em--yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up--they
-sneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in the
-dark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard
-swear he'd spile her looks just as I told you and your two--"
-
-"What! The DEAF AND DUMB man said all that!"
-
-Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep
-the old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might
-be, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in
-spite of all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his
-scrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder after
-blunder. Presently the Welshman said:
-
-"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head
-for all the world. No--I'd protect you--I'd protect you. This Spaniard
-is not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; you
-can't cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that
-you want to keep dark. Now trust me--tell me what it is, and trust me
---I won't betray you."
-
-Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over
-and whispered in his ear:
-
-"'Tain't a Spaniard--it's Injun Joe!"
-
-The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said:
-
-"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and
-slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because
-white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a
-different matter altogether."
-
-During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man
-said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going
-to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for
-marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of--
-
-"Of WHAT?"
-
-If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more
-stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring
-wide, now, and his breath suspended--waiting for the answer. The
-Welshman started--stared in return--three seconds--five seconds--ten
---then replied:
-
-"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the MATTER with you?"
-
-Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The
-Welshman eyed him gravely, curiously--and presently said:
-
-"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But
-what did give you that turn? What were YOU expecting we'd found?"
-
-Huck was in a close place--the inquiring eye was upon him--he would
-have given anything for material for a plausible answer--nothing
-suggested itself--the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper--a
-senseless reply offered--there was no time to weigh it, so at a venture
-he uttered it--feebly:
-
-"Sunday-school books, maybe."
-
-Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud
-and joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot,
-and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket,
-because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added:
-
-"Poor old chap, you're white and jaded--you ain't well a bit--no
-wonder you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll come
-out of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope."
-
-Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such
-a suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcel
-brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the
-talk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure,
-however--he had not known that it wasn't--and so the suggestion of a
-captured bundle was too much for his self-possession. But on the whole
-he felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond
-all question that that bundle was not THE bundle, and so his mind was
-at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be
-drifting just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be still
-in No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and Tom
-could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of
-interruption.
-
-Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck
-jumped for a hiding-place, for he had no mind to be connected even
-remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and
-gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of
-citizens were climbing up the hill--to stare at the stile. So the news
-had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the
-visitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken.
-
-"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more
-beholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allow
-me to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him."
-
-Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled
-the main matter--but the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals of
-his visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he
-refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the
-widow said:
-
-"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that
-noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?"
-
-"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come
-again--they hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use of
-waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guard
-at your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back."
-
-More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a
-couple of hours more.
-
-There was no Sabbath-school during day-school vacation, but everybody
-was early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News came
-that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the
-sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs.
-Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said:
-
-"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be
-tired to death."
-
-"Your Becky?"
-
-"Yes," with a startled look--"didn't she stay with you last night?"
-
-"Why, no."
-
-Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly,
-talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said:
-
-"Good-morning, Mrs. Thatcher. Good-morning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a
-boy that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last
-night--one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got to
-settle with him."
-
-Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever.
-
-"He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy.
-A marked anxiety came into Aunt Polly's face.
-
-"Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?"
-
-"No'm."
-
-"When did you see him last?"
-
-Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had
-stopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a boding
-uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were
-anxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not
-noticed whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on the
-homeward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one was
-missing. One young man finally blurted out his fear that they were
-still in the cave! Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell to
-crying and wringing her hands.
-
-The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to
-street, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and the
-whole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant
-insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled,
-skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horror
-was half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and
-river toward the cave.
-
-All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women
-visited Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They
-cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the
-tedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned at
-last, all the word that came was, "Send more candles--and send food."
-Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatcher
-sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they
-conveyed no real cheer.
-
-The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with
-candle-grease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huck
-still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with
-fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came
-and took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him,
-because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's,
-and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The
-Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said:
-
-"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off.
-He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his
-hands."
-
-Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the
-village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the
-news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were
-being ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner
-and crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever one
-wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting
-hither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots sent
-their hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one
-place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names
-"BECKY & TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with
-candle-smoke, and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs.
-Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the
-last relic she should ever have of her child; and that no other memorial
-of her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest from
-the living body before the awful death came. Some said that now and
-then, in the cave, a far-away speck of light would glimmer, and then a
-glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping down the
-echoing aisle--and then a sickening disappointment always followed; the
-children were not there; it was only a searcher's light.
-
-Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and
-the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything.
-The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the
-Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the
-public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck
-feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked--dimly
-dreading the worst--if anything had been discovered at the Temperance
-Tavern since he had been ill.
-
-"Yes," said the widow.
-
-Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed:
-
-"What? What was it?"
-
-"Liquor!--and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child--what a turn
-you did give me!"
-
-"Only tell me just one thing--only just one--please! Was it Tom Sawyer
-that found it?"
-
-The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told you
-before, you must NOT talk. You are very, very sick!"
-
-Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great
-powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever--gone
-forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should
-cry.
-
-These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the
-weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself:
-
-"There--he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebody
-could find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hope
-enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching."
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXI
-
-NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They tripped
-along the murky aisles with the rest of the company, visiting the
-familiar wonders of the cave--wonders dubbed with rather
-over-descriptive names, such as "The Drawing-Room," "The Cathedral,"
-"Aladdin's Palace," and so on. Presently the hide-and-seek frolicking
-began, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal until the exertion
-began to grow a trifle wearisome; then they wandered down a sinuous
-avenue holding their candles aloft and reading the tangled web-work of
-names, dates, post-office addresses, and mottoes with which the rocky
-walls had been frescoed (in candle-smoke). Still drifting along and
-talking, they scarcely noticed that they were now in a part of the cave
-whose walls were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under an
-overhanging shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a place where a
-little stream of water, trickling over a ledge and carrying a limestone
-sediment with it, had, in the slow-dragging ages, formed a laced and
-ruffled Niagara in gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed his
-small body behind it in order to illuminate it for Becky's
-gratification. He found that it curtained a sort of steep natural
-stairway which was enclosed between narrow walls, and at once the
-ambition to be a discoverer seized him. Becky responded to his call,
-and they made a smoke-mark for future guidance, and started upon their
-quest. They wound this way and that, far down into the secret depths of
-the cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties to
-tell the upper world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern,
-from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining stalactites of the
-length and circumference of a man's leg; they walked all about it,
-wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one of the numerous
-passages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a bewitching
-spring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glittering
-crystals; it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls were supported by
-many fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of great
-stalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaseless
-water-drip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats had packed
-themselves together, thousands in a bunch; the lights disturbed the
-creatures and they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking and
-darting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways and the danger of
-this sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into the
-first corridor that offered; and none too soon, for a bat struck
-Becky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of the
-cavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the fugitives
-plunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got rid of the
-perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, which
-stretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows.
-He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would be best
-to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deep
-stillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of the
-children. Becky said:
-
-"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any of
-the others."
-
-"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them--and I don't know
-how far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn't
-hear them here."
-
-Becky grew apprehensive.
-
-"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back."
-
-"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better."
-
-"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixed-up crookedness to me."
-
-"I reckon I could find it--but then the bats. If they put our candles
-out it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to go
-through there."
-
-"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and the
-girl shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities.
-
-They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long
-way, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anything
-familiar about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every time
-Tom made an examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging
-sign, and he would say cheerily:
-
-"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it right
-away!"
-
-But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently
-began to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperate
-hope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "all
-right," but there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words
-had lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost!"
-Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep
-back the tears, but they would come. At last she said:
-
-"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to get
-worse and worse off all the time."
-
-"Listen!" said he.
-
-Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were
-conspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down the
-empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that
-resembled a ripple of mocking laughter.
-
-"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid," said Becky.
-
-"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know," and
-he shouted again.
-
-The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it
-so confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened;
-but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and
-hurried his steps. It was but a little while before a certain
-indecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to Becky--he
-could not find his way back!
-
-"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks!"
-
-"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might want
-to come back! No--I can't find the way. It's all mixed up."
-
-"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awful
-place! Oh, why DID we ever leave the others!"
-
-She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom
-was appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He
-sat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in his
-bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing
-regrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tom
-begged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell
-to blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable
-situation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hope
-again, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he
-would not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame than
-she, she said.
-
-So they moved on again--aimlessly--simply at random--all they could do
-was to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show of
-reviving--not with any reason to back it, but only because it is its
-nature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age
-and familiarity with failure.
-
-By-and-by Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meant
-so much! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope died
-again. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces in
-his pockets--yet he must economize.
-
-By-and-by, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried to
-pay attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when time
-was grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in any
-direction, was at least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit down
-was to invite death and shorten its pursuit.
-
-At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She sat
-down. Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friends
-there, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried,
-and Tom tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all his
-encouragements were grown threadbare with use, and sounded like
-sarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off to
-sleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking into her drawn face and saw it
-grow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant dreams; and
-by-and-by a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflected
-somewhat of peace and healing into his own spirit, and his thoughts
-wandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he was deep in
-his musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laugh--but it was
-stricken dead upon her lips, and a groan followed it.
-
-"Oh, how COULD I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, I
-don't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say it again."
-
-"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll find
-the way out."
-
-"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream.
-I reckon we are going there."
-
-"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying."
-
-They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They tried
-to estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew was
-that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could not
-be, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this--they
-could not tell how long--Tom said they must go softly and listen for
-dripping water--they must find a spring. They found one presently, and
-Tom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky
-said she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised to
-hear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tom
-fastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay.
-Thought was soon busy; nothing was said for some time. Then Becky broke
-the silence:
-
-"Tom, I am so hungry!"
-
-Tom took something out of his pocket.
-
-"Do you remember this?" said he.
-
-Becky almost smiled.
-
-"It's our wedding-cake, Tom."
-
-"Yes--I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got."
-
-"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grown-up
-people do with wedding-cake--but it'll be our--"
-
-She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky
-ate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was
-abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. By-and-by Becky
-suggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he
-said:
-
-"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?"
-
-Becky's face paled, but she thought she could.
-
-"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink.
-That little piece is our last candle!"
-
-Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could to
-comfort her, but with little effect. At length Becky said:
-
-"Tom!"
-
-"Well, Becky?"
-
-"They'll miss us and hunt for us!"
-
-"Yes, they will! Certainly they will!"
-
-"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom."
-
-"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are."
-
-"When would they miss us, Tom?"
-
-"When they get back to the boat, I reckon."
-
-"Tom, it might be dark then--would they notice we hadn't come?"
-
-"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they
-got home."
-
-A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw
-that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night!
-The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of
-grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers
-also--that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher
-discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's.
-
-The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched
-it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand
-alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin
-column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then--the horror of
-utter darkness reigned!
-
-How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that
-she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knew
-was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of
-a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom said
-it might be Sunday, now--maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk,
-but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said
-that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was
-going on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it;
-but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he
-tried it no more.
-
-The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again.
-A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it.
-But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only
-whetted desire.
-
-By-and-by Tom said:
-
-"SH! Did you hear that?"
-
-Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like the
-faintest, far-off shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Becky
-by the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction.
-Presently he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparently
-a little nearer.
-
-"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky--we're all
-right now!"
-
-The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed was
-slow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to be
-guarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might be
-three feet deep, it might be a hundred--there was no passing it at any
-rate. Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could.
-No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. They
-listened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! a
-moment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heart-sinking
-misery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He
-talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and no
-sounds came again.
-
-The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary time
-dragged on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tom
-believed it must be Tuesday by this time.
-
-Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. It
-would be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of the
-heavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it to
-a projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the
-line as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor ended
-in a "jumping-off place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, and
-then as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands
-conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to the
-right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding
-a candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout,
-and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to--Injun
-Joe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratified
-the next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get
-himself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized his
-voice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But the
-echoes must have disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, he
-reasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said to
-himself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring he
-would stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk of
-meeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it was
-he had seen. He told her he had only shouted "for luck."
-
-But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run.
-Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep brought
-changes. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believed
-that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now,
-and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore another
-passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. But
-Becky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be
-roused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die--it would
-not be long. She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if he
-chose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speak
-to her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, he
-would stay by her and hold her hand until all was over.
-
-Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a
-show of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from the
-cave; then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down one
-of the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick
-with bodings of coming doom.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXII
-
-TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St.
-Petersburg still mourned. The lost children had not been found. Public
-prayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a private
-prayer that had the petitioner's whole heart in it; but still no good
-news came from the cave. The majority of the searchers had given up the
-quest and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plain
-the children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and a
-great part of the time delirious. People said it was heartbreaking to
-hear her call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minute
-at a time, then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly had
-drooped into a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had grown almost
-white. The village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn.
-
-Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the village
-bells, and in a moment the streets were swarming with frantic half-clad
-people, who shouted, "Turn out! turn out! they're found! they're
-found!" Tin pans and horns were added to the din, the population massed
-itself and moved toward the river, met the children coming in an open
-carriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined its
-homeward march, and swept magnificently up the main street roaring
-huzzah after huzzah!
-
-The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed again; it was the
-greatest night the little town had ever seen. During the first half-hour
-a procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seized
-the saved ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher's hand, tried to
-speak but couldn't--and drifted out raining tears all over the place.
-
-Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. It
-would be complete, however, as soon as the messenger dispatched with
-the great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom lay
-upon a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history of
-the wonderful adventure, putting in many striking additions to adorn it
-withal; and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went on
-an exploring expedition; how he followed two avenues as far as his
-kite-line would reach; how he followed a third to the fullest stretch of
-the kite-line, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a far-off
-speck that looked like daylight; dropped the line and groped toward it,
-pushed his head and shoulders through a small hole, and saw the broad
-Mississippi rolling by! And if it had only happened to be night he would
-not have seen that speck of daylight and would not have explored that
-passage any more! He told how he went back for Becky and broke the good
-news and she told him not to fret her with such stuff, for she was
-tired, and knew she was going to die, and wanted to. He described how he
-labored with her and convinced her; and how she almost died for joy when
-she had groped to where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight; how
-he pushed his way out at the hole and then helped her out; how they sat
-there and cried for gladness; how some men came along in a skiff and Tom
-hailed them and told them their situation and their famished condition;
-how the men didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because," said they,
-"you are five miles down the river below the valley the cave is in"
---then took them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made them
-rest till two or three hours after dark and then brought them home.
-
-Before day-dawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with him
-were tracked out, in the cave, by the twine clews they had strung
-behind them, and informed of the great news.
-
-Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to be
-shaken off at once, as Tom and Becky soon discovered. They were
-bedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more and
-more tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, on
-Thursday, was down-town Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday;
-but Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked as
-if she had passed through a wasting illness.
-
-Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, but
-could not be admitted to the bedroom; neither could he on Saturday or
-Sunday. He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep still
-about his adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglas
-stayed by to see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the Cardiff
-Hill event; also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been found
-in the river near the ferry-landing; he had been drowned while trying
-to escape, perhaps.
-
-About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off to
-visit Huck, who had grown plenty strong enough, now, to hear exciting
-talk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. Judge
-Thatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The
-Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked him
-ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he
-thought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said:
-
-"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt.
-But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any
-more."
-
-"Why?"
-
-"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago,
-and triple-locked--and I've got the keys."
-
-Tom turned as white as a sheet.
-
-"What's the matter, boy! Here, run, somebody! Fetch a glass of water!"
-
-The water was brought and thrown into Tom's face.
-
-"Ah, now you're all right. What was the matter with you, Tom?"
-
-"Oh, Judge, Injun Joe's in the cave!"
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIII
-
-WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiff-loads of
-men were on their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, well
-filled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff that
-bore Judge Thatcher.
-
-When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in
-the dim twilight of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground,
-dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longing
-eyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheer
-of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own
-experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but
-nevertheless he felt an abounding sense of relief and security, now,
-which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully appreciated
-before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the day
-he lifted his voice against this bloody-minded outcast.
-
-Injun Joe's bowie-knife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The
-great foundation-beam of the door had been chipped and hacked through,
-with tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock
-formed a sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife had
-wrought no effect; the only damage done was to the knife itself. But if
-there had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been
-useless still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could
-not have squeezed his body under the door, and he knew it. So he had
-only hacked that place in order to be doing something--in order to pass
-the weary time--in order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily
-one could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in the crevices
-of this vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. The
-prisoner had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived to
-catch a few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their
-claws. The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near at
-hand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages,
-builded by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had
-broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone,
-wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop
-that fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a
-clock-tick--a dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop
-was falling when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; when the
-foundations of Rome were laid; when Christ was crucified; when the
-Conqueror created the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when the
-massacre at Lexington was "news." It is falling now; it will still be
-falling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon of
-history, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed up in the
-thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Did
-this drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for
-this flitting human insect's need? and has it another important object
-to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No matter. It is many and
-many a year since the hapless half-breed scooped out the stone to catch
-the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist stares longest at that
-pathetic stone and that slow-dropping water when he comes to see the
-wonders of McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list of
-the cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's Palace" cannot rival it.
-
-Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked
-there in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms and
-hamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and all
-sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as
-satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the
-hanging.
-
-This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing--the petition to
-the governor for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largely
-signed; many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a
-committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail
-around the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample
-his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five
-citizens of the village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself
-there would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names
-to a pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently
-impaired and leaky water-works.
-
-The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have
-an important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the
-Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckoned
-there was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what he
-wanted to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said:
-
-"I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but
-whiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must 'a' ben
-you, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business; and I knowed you
-hadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other and
-told me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's always
-told me we'd never get holt of that swag."
-
-"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. YOU know his tavern
-was all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you
-was to watch there that night?"
-
-"Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I
-follered Injun Joe to the widder's."
-
-"YOU followed him?"
-
-"Yes--but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him,
-and I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it
-hadn't ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right."
-
-Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only
-heard of the Welshman's part of it before.
-
-"Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question,
-"whoever nipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon
---anyways it's a goner for us, Tom."
-
-"Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. 2!"
-
-"What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on
-the track of that money again?"
-
-"Huck, it's in the cave!"
-
-Huck's eyes blazed.
-
-"Say it again, Tom."
-
-"The money's in the cave!"
-
-"Tom--honest injun, now--is it fun, or earnest?"
-
-"Earnest, Huck--just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go
-in there with me and help get it out?"
-
-"I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not
-get lost."
-
-"Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the
-world."
-
-"Good as wheat! What makes you think the money's--"
-
-"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll
-agree to give you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. I
-will, by jings."
-
-"All right--it's a whiz. When do you say?"
-
-"Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?"
-
-"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days,
-now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tom--least I don't think I could."
-
-"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go,
-Huck, but there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me
-know about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the
-skiff down there, and I'll pull it back again all by myself. You
-needn't ever turn your hand over."
-
-"Less start right off, Tom."
-
-"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little
-bag or two, and two or three kite-strings, and some of these
-new-fangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many's
-the time I wished I had some when I was in there before."
-
-A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who
-was absent, and got under way at once. When they were several miles
-below "Cave Hollow," Tom said:
-
-"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the
-cave hollow--no houses, no wood-yards, bushes all alike. But do you see
-that white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well, that's
-one of my marks. We'll get ashore, now."
-
-They landed.
-
-"Now, Huck, where we're a-standing you could touch that hole I got out
-of with a fishing-pole. See if you can find it."
-
-Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly
-marched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said:
-
-"Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in this
-country. You just keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to be
-a robber, but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where to
-run across it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it
-quiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in--because of course
-there's got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it.
-Tom Sawyer's Gang--it sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?"
-
-"Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?"
-
-"Oh, most anybody. Waylay people--that's mostly the way."
-
-"And kill them?"
-
-"No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom."
-
-"What's a ransom?"
-
-"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; and
-after you've kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them.
-That's the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the
-women, but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, and
-awfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take
-your hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers
---you'll see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and
-after they've been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying and
-after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'd
-turn right around and come back. It's so in all the books."
-
-"Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate."
-
-"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and
-circuses and all that."
-
-By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom
-in the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel,
-then made their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few steps
-brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through
-him. He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of
-clay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the
-flame struggle and expire.
-
-The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and
-gloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently
-entered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the
-"jumping-off place." The candles revealed the fact that it was not
-really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet
-high. Tom whispered:
-
-"Now I'll show you something, Huck."
-
-He held his candle aloft and said:
-
-"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There--on
-the big rock over yonder--done with candle-smoke."
-
-"Tom, it's a CROSS!"
-
-"NOW where's your Number Two? 'UNDER THE CROSS,' hey? Right yonder's
-where I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!"
-
-Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice:
-
-"Tom, less git out of here!"
-
-"What! and leave the treasure?"
-
-"Yes--leave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain."
-
-"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he
-died--away out at the mouth of the cave--five mile from here."
-
-"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways
-of ghosts, and so do you."
-
-Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his
-mind. But presently an idea occurred to him--
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's
-ghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross!"
-
-The point was well taken. It had its effect.
-
-"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that
-cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box."
-
-Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended.
-Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the
-great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result.
-They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with
-a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, some
-bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there
-was no money-box. The lads searched and researched this place, but in
-vain. Tom said:
-
-"He said UNDER the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the
-cross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on
-the ground."
-
-They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged.
-Huck could suggest nothing. By-and-by Tom said:
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle-grease on the
-clay about one side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now,
-what's that for? I bet you the money IS under the rock. I'm going to
-dig in the clay."
-
-"That ain't no bad notion, Tom!" said Huck with animation.
-
-Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches
-before he struck wood.
-
-"Hey, Huck!--you hear that?"
-
-Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and
-removed. They had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock.
-Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as he
-could, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed to
-explore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow way descended
-gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to
-the left, Huck at his heels. Tom turned a short curve, by-and-by, and
-exclaimed:
-
-"My goodness, Huck, lookyhere!"
-
-It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern,
-along with an empty powder-keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two
-or three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbish
-well soaked with the water-drip.
-
-"Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with
-his hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!"
-
-"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe,
-but we HAVE got it, sure! Say--let's not fool around here. Let's snake
-it out. Lemme see if I can lift the box."
-
-It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward
-fashion, but could not carry it conveniently.
-
-"I thought so," he said; "THEY carried it like it was heavy, that day
-at the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think of
-fetching the little bags along."
-
-The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross
-rock.
-
-"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck.
-
-"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we
-go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our
-orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies."
-
-"What orgies?"
-
-"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to
-have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's
-getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we
-get to the skiff."
-
-They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily
-out, found the coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in the
-skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and got
-under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chatting
-cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark.
-
-"Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the
-widow's woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it
-and divide, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for it
-where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff till
-I run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be gone a minute."
-
-He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two
-small sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them, and started
-off, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the
-Welshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to move
-on, the Welshman stepped out and said:
-
-"Hallo, who's that?"
-
-"Huck and Tom Sawyer."
-
-"Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting.
-Here--hurry up, trot ahead--I'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not
-as light as it might be. Got bricks in it?--or old metal?"
-
-"Old metal," said Tom.
-
-"I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool
-away more time hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to the
-foundry than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But
-that's human nature--hurry along, hurry along!"
-
-The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about.
-
-"Never mind; you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'."
-
-Huck said with some apprehension--for he was long used to being
-falsely accused:
-
-"Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing."
-
-The Welshman laughed.
-
-"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you
-and the widow good friends?"
-
-"Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway."
-
-"All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?"
-
-This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he
-found himself pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawing-room.
-Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed.
-
-The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any
-consequence in the village was there. The Thatchers were there, the
-Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor,
-and a great many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow
-received the boys as heartily as any one could well receive two such
-looking beings. They were covered with clay and candle-grease. Aunt
-Polly blushed crimson with humiliation, and frowned and shook her head
-at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did, however. Mr.
-Jones said:
-
-"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him and
-Huck right at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry."
-
-"And you did just right," said the widow. "Come with me, boys."
-
-She took them to a bedchamber and said:
-
-"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes
---shirts, socks, everything complete. They're Huck's--no, no thanks,
-Huck--Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both of you.
-Get into them. We'll wait--come down when you are slicked up enough."
-
-Then she left.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIV
-
-HUCK said: "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain't
-high from the ground."
-
-"Shucks! what do you want to slope for?"
-
-"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain't
-going down there, Tom."
-
-"Oh, bother! It ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take care
-of you."
-
-Sid appeared.
-
-"Tom," said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon.
-Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting about
-you. Say--ain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?"
-
-"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all this
-blow-out about, anyway?"
-
-"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This time
-it's for the Welshman and his sons, on account of that scrape they
-helped her out of the other night. And say--I can tell you something,
-if you want to know."
-
-"Well, what?"
-
-"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the people
-here to-night, but I overheard him tell auntie to-day about it, as a
-secret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows
---the widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones was
-bound Huck should be here--couldn't get along with his grand secret
-without Huck, you know!"
-
-"Secret about what, Sid?"
-
-"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Jones
-was going to make a grand time over his surprise, but I bet you it will
-drop pretty flat."
-
-Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way.
-
-"Sid, was it you that told?"
-
-"Oh, never mind who it was. SOMEBODY told--that's enough."
-
-"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and
-that's you. If you had been in Huck's place you'd 'a' sneaked down the
-hill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean
-things, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones.
-There--no thanks, as the widow says"--and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and
-helped him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie if
-you dare--and to-morrow you'll catch it!"
-
-Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the supper-table, and a
-dozen children were propped up at little side-tables in the same room,
-after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr.
-Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for the
-honor she was doing himself and his sons, but said that there was
-another person whose modesty--
-
-And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in the
-adventure in the finest dramatic manner he was master of, but the
-surprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous and
-effusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However,
-the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so many
-compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot the
-nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely
-intolerable discomfort of being set up as a target for everybody's gaze
-and everybody's laudations.
-
-The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have
-him educated; and that when she could spare the money she would start
-him in business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said:
-
-"Huck don't need it. Huck's rich."
-
-Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company kept
-back the due and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But
-the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it:
-
-"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of
-it. Oh, you needn't smile--I reckon I can show you. You just wait a
-minute."
-
-Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with a
-perplexed interest--and inquiringly at Huck, who was tongue-tied.
-
-"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "He--well, there ain't ever any
-making of that boy out. I never--"
-
-Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly
-did not finish her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coin upon
-the table and said:
-
-"There--what did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine!"
-
-The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spoke
-for a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation. Tom
-said he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful of
-interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break the
-charm of its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said:
-
-"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but it
-don't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty small, I'm
-willing to allow."
-
-The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelve
-thousand dollars. It was more than any one present had ever seen at one
-time before, though several persons were there who were worth
-considerably more than that in property.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXV
-
-THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made a
-mighty stir in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast a
-sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talked
-about, gloated over, glorified, until the reason of many of the
-citizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every
-"haunted" house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was
-dissected, plank by plank, and its foundations dug up and ransacked for
-hidden treasure--and not by boys, but men--pretty grave, unromantic
-men, too, some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they were
-courted, admired, stared at. The boys were not able to remember that
-their remarks had possessed weight before; but now their sayings were
-treasured and repeated; everything they did seemed somehow to be
-regarded as remarkable; they had evidently lost the power of doing and
-saying commonplace things; moreover, their past history was raked up
-and discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The village
-paper published biographical sketches of the boys.
-
-The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent., and Judge
-Thatcher did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had
-an income, now, that was simply prodigious--a dollar for every week-day
-in the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got
---no, it was what he was promised--he generally couldn't collect it. A
-dollar and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a boy in
-those old simple days--and clothe him and wash him, too, for that
-matter.
-
-Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no
-commonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When
-Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her
-whipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved; and when she pleaded
-grace for the mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift that
-whipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fine
-outburst that it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous lie--a lie that
-was worthy to hold up its head and march down through history breast to
-breast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet! Becky
-thought her father had never looked so tall and so superb as when he
-walked the floor and stamped his foot and said that. She went straight
-off and told Tom about it.
-
-Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some
-day. He said he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to the
-National Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law school
-in the country, in order that he might be ready for either career or
-both.
-
-Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the Widow
-Douglas' protection introduced him into society--no, dragged him into
-it, hurled him into it--and his sufferings were almost more than he
-could bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed and
-brushed, and they bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that had
-not one little spot or stain which he could press to his heart and know
-for a friend. He had to eat with a knife and fork; he had to use
-napkin, cup, and plate; he had to learn his book, he had to go to
-church; he had to talk so properly that speech was become insipid in
-his mouth; whithersoever he turned, the bars and shackles of
-civilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot.
-
-He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up
-missing. For forty-eight hours the widow hunted for him everywhere in
-great distress. The public were profoundly concerned; they searched
-high and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the third
-morning Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old empty hogsheads
-down behind the abandoned slaughter-house, and in one of them he found
-the refugee. Huck had slept there; he had just breakfasted upon some
-stolen odds and ends of food, and was lying off, now, in comfort, with
-his pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin of
-rags that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free and
-happy. Tom routed him out, told him the trouble he had been causing,
-and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content, and
-took a melancholy cast. He said:
-
-"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don't
-work, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it. The widder's good to
-me, and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just
-at the same time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all to
-thunder; she won't let me sleep in the woodshed; I got to wear them
-blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; they don't seem to any air
-git through 'em, somehow; and they're so rotten nice that I can't set
-down, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher's; I hain't slid on a
-cellar-door for--well, it 'pears to be years; I got to go to church and
-sweat and sweat--I hate them ornery sermons! I can't ketch a fly in
-there, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday. The widder eats by
-a bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell--everything's
-so awful reg'lar a body can't stand it."
-
-"Well, everybody does that way, Huck."
-
-"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't
-STAND it. It's awful to be tied up so. And grub comes too easy--I don't
-take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go a-fishing; I
-got to ask to go in a-swimming--dern'd if I hain't got to ask to do
-everything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no comfort--I'd got
-to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste in
-my mouth, or I'd a died, Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke; she
-wouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, nor
-scratch, before folks--" [Then with a spasm of special irritation and
-injury]--"And dad fetch it, she prayed all the time! I never see such a
-woman! I HAD to shove, Tom--I just had to. And besides, that school's
-going to open, and I'd a had to go to it--well, I wouldn't stand THAT,
-Tom. Looky here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's
-just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and a-wishing you was dead
-all the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, and
-I ain't ever going to shake 'em any more. Tom, I wouldn't ever got into
-all this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money; now you just take
-my sheer of it along with your'n, and gimme a ten-center sometimes--not
-many times, becuz I don't give a dern for a thing 'thout it's tollable
-hard to git--and you go and beg off for me with the widder."
-
-"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair; and besides if
-you'll try this thing just a while longer you'll come to like it."
-
-"Like it! Yes--the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long
-enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed
-smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and
-I'll stick to 'em, too. Blame it all! just as we'd got guns, and a
-cave, and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has got to
-come up and spile it all!"
-
-Tom saw his opportunity--
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep me back from turning
-robber."
-
-"No! Oh, good-licks; are you in real dead-wood earnest, Tom?"
-
-"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let you
-into the gang if you ain't respectable, you know."
-
-Huck's joy was quenched.
-
-"Can't let me in, Tom? Didn't you let me go for a pirate?"
-
-"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more high-toned than what a
-pirate is--as a general thing. In most countries they're awful high up
-in the nobility--dukes and such."
-
-"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet me
-out, would you, Tom? You wouldn't do that, now, WOULD you, Tom?"
-
-"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I DON'T want to--but what would people
-say? Why, they'd say, 'Mph! Tom Sawyer's Gang! pretty low characters in
-it!' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't."
-
-Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle. Finally
-he said:
-
-"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see if
-I can come to stand it, if you'll let me b'long to the gang, Tom."
-
-"All right, Huck, it's a whiz! Come along, old chap, and I'll ask the
-widow to let up on you a little, Huck."
-
-"Will you, Tom--now will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some of
-the roughest things, I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowd
-through or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?"
-
-"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiation
-to-night, maybe."
-
-"Have the which?"
-
-"Have the initiation."
-
-"What's that?"
-
-"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang's
-secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders, and kill anybody and
-all his family that hurts one of the gang."
-
-"That's gay--that's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you."
-
-"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done at
-midnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can find--a ha'nted
-house is the best, but they're all ripped up now."
-
-"Well, midnight's good, anyway, Tom."
-
-"Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin, and sign it with
-blood."
-
-"Now, that's something LIKE! Why, it's a million times bullier than
-pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom; and if I git to be
-a reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckon
-she'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet."
-
-
-
-CONCLUSION
-
-SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a BOY, it
-must stop here; the story could not go much further without becoming
-the history of a MAN. When one writes a novel about grown people, he
-knows exactly where to stop--that is, with a marriage; but when he
-writes of juveniles, he must stop where he best can.
-
-Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are
-prosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up the
-story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they
-turned out to be; therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of that
-part of their lives at present.
)
const (
- twain = "testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt"
- twainLen = 387851
- twainSHA256 = "461eb7cb2d57d293fc680c836464c9125e4382be3596f7d415093ae9db8fcb0e"
+ newton = "../testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt"
+ newtonLen = 567198
+ newtonSHA256 = "d4a9ac22462b35e7821a4f2706c211093da678620a8f9997989ee7cf8d507bbd"
)
func TestSendfile(t *testing.T) {
defer close(errc)
defer conn.Close()
- f, err := os.Open(twain)
+ f, err := os.Open(newton)
if err != nil {
errc <- err
return
return
}
- if sbytes != twainLen {
- errc <- fmt.Errorf("sent %d bytes; expected %d", sbytes, twainLen)
+ if sbytes != newtonLen {
+ errc <- fmt.Errorf("sent %d bytes; expected %d", sbytes, newtonLen)
return
}
}()
t.Error(err)
}
- if rbytes != twainLen {
- t.Errorf("received %d bytes; expected %d", rbytes, twainLen)
+ if rbytes != newtonLen {
+ t.Errorf("received %d bytes; expected %d", rbytes, newtonLen)
}
- if res := hex.EncodeToString(h.Sum(nil)); res != twainSHA256 {
+ if res := hex.EncodeToString(h.Sum(nil)); res != newtonSHA256 {
t.Error("retrieved data hash did not match")
}
defer close(errc)
defer conn.Close()
- f, err := os.Open(twain)
+ f, err := os.Open(newton)
if err != nil {
errc <- err
return
defer close(errc)
defer conn.Close()
- f, err := os.Open(twain)
+ f, err := os.Open(newton)
if err != nil {
errc <- err
return
+++ /dev/null
-Produced by David Widger. The previous edition was updated by Jose
-Menendez.
-
-
-
-
-
- THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER
- BY
- MARK TWAIN
- (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
-
-
-
-
- P R E F A C E
-
-MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one or
-two were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who were
-schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, but
-not from an individual--he is a combination of the characteristics of
-three boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order of
-architecture.
-
-The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children
-and slaves in the West at the period of this story--that is to say,
-thirty or forty years ago.
-
-Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and
-girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account,
-for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what
-they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked,
-and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in.
-
- THE AUTHOR.
-
-HARTFORD, 1876.
-
-
-
- T O M S A W Y E R
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-"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--"
-
-She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching
-under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the
-punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat.
-
-"I never did see the beat of that boy!"
-
-She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the
-tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom.
-So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and
-shouted:
-
-"Y-o-u-u TOM!"
-
-There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to
-seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight.
-
-"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in
-there?"
-
-"Nothing."
-
-"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS that
-truck?"
-
-"I don't know, aunt."
-
-"Well, I know. It's jam--that's what it is. Forty times I've said if
-you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch."
-
-The switch hovered in the air--the peril was desperate--
-
-"My! Look behind you, aunt!"
-
-The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The
-lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and
-disappeared over it.
-
-His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle
-laugh.
-
-"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricks
-enough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But old
-fools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks,
-as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days,
-and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just how
-long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he
-can make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down
-again and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy,
-and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile
-the child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for
-us both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's my
-own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash
-him, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so,
-and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, man
-that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the
-Scripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, *
-and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him
-work, to-morrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work
-Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more
-than he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him,
-or I'll be the ruination of the child."
-
-Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home
-barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day's
-wood and split the kindlings before supper--at least he was there in
-time to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the
-work. Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already
-through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a
-quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways.
-
-While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity
-offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and
-very deep--for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like
-many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she
-was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she
-loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low
-cunning. Said she:
-
-"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?"
-
-"Yes'm."
-
-"Powerful warm, warn't it?"
-
-"Yes'm."
-
-"Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?"
-
-A bit of a scare shot through Tom--a touch of uncomfortable suspicion.
-He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said:
-
-"No'm--well, not very much."
-
-The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said:
-
-"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect
-that she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing
-that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew
-where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:
-
-"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?"
-
-Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of
-circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new
-inspiration:
-
-"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to
-pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!"
-
-The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His
-shirt collar was securely sewed.
-
-"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey
-and been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a
-singed cat, as the saying is--better'n you look. THIS time."
-
-She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom
-had stumbled into obedient conduct for once.
-
-But Sidney said:
-
-"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread,
-but it's black."
-
-"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!"
-
-But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:
-
-"Siddy, I'll lick you for that."
-
-In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into
-the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them--one needle
-carried white thread and the other black. He said:
-
-"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimes
-she sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to
-geeminy she'd stick to one or t'other--I can't keep the run of 'em. But
-I bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!"
-
-He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very
-well though--and loathed him.
-
-Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles.
-Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him
-than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore
-them down and drove them out of his mind for the time--just as men's
-misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This
-new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just
-acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed.
-It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble,
-produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short
-intervals in the midst of the music--the reader probably remembers how
-to do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave
-him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full
-of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an
-astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet--no doubt, as far as
-strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with
-the boy, not the astronomer.
-
-The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom
-checked his whistle. A stranger was before him--a boy a shade larger
-than himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressive
-curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy
-was well dressed, too--well dressed on a week-day. This was simply
-astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth
-roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes
-on--and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of
-ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The
-more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his
-nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed
-to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved--but
-only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all
-the time. Finally Tom said:
-
-"I can lick you!"
-
-"I'd like to see you try it."
-
-"Well, I can do it."
-
-"No you can't, either."
-
-"Yes I can."
-
-"No you can't."
-
-"I can."
-
-"You can't."
-
-"Can!"
-
-"Can't!"
-
-An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:
-
-"What's your name?"
-
-"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe."
-
-"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business."
-
-"Well why don't you?"
-
-"If you say much, I will."
-
-"Much--much--MUCH. There now."
-
-"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with
-one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to."
-
-"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it."
-
-"Well I WILL, if you fool with me."
-
-"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix."
-
-"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!"
-
-"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it
-off--and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs."
-
-"You're a liar!"
-
-"You're another."
-
-"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up."
-
-"Aw--take a walk!"
-
-"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a
-rock off'n your head."
-
-"Oh, of COURSE you will."
-
-"Well I WILL."
-
-"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for?
-Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid."
-
-"I AIN'T afraid."
-
-"You are."
-
-"I ain't."
-
-"You are."
-
-Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently
-they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:
-
-"Get away from here!"
-
-"Go away yourself!"
-
-"I won't."
-
-"I won't either."
-
-So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and
-both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with
-hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both
-were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution,
-and Tom said:
-
-"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he
-can thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too."
-
-"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger
-than he is--and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too."
-[Both brothers were imaginary.]
-
-"That's a lie."
-
-"YOUR saying so don't make it so."
-
-Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
-
-"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand
-up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep."
-
-The new boy stepped over promptly, and said:
-
-"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it."
-
-"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out."
-
-"Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?"
-
-"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it."
-
-The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out
-with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boys
-were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; and
-for the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and
-clothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and covered
-themselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and
-through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and
-pounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he.
-
-The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage.
-
-"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on.
-
-At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up
-and said:
-
-"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next
-time."
-
-The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing,
-snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head and
-threatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out."
-To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, and
-as soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw
-it and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like
-an antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he
-lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the
-enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the
-window and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called
-Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went
-away; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy.
-
-He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in
-at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt;
-and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn
-his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in
-its firmness.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-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.
-
-Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a
-long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and
-a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board
-fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a
-burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost
-plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant
-whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed
-fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at
-the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from
-the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but
-now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at
-the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there
-waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling,
-fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only
-a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of
-water under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go after
-him. Tom said:
-
-"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some."
-
-Jim shook his head and said:
-
-"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis
-water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars
-Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend
-to my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'."
-
-"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always
-talks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't
-ever know."
-
-"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n
-me. 'Deed she would."
-
-"SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with her
-thimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but
-talk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you
-a marvel. I'll give you a white alley!"
-
-Jim began to waver.
-
-"White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw."
-
-"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful
-'fraid ole missis--"
-
-"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe."
-
-Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put down
-his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing
-interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was
-flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was
-whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field
-with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye.
-
-But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had
-planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys
-would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and
-they would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the very
-thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and
-examined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an
-exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an
-hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his
-pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark
-and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a
-great, magnificent inspiration.
-
-He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in
-sight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been
-dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that his
-heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and
-giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned
-ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As
-he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned
-far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious
-pomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, and
-considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and
-captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself
-standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them:
-
-"Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he
-drew up slowly toward the sidewalk.
-
-"Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and
-stiffened down his sides.
-
-"Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow!
-Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles--for it was
-representing a forty-foot wheel.
-
-"Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-lingling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!"
-The left hand began to describe circles.
-
-"Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead
-on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow!
-Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! LIVELY now!
-Come--out with your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turn
-round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let her
-go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!"
-(trying the gauge-cocks).
-
-Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben
-stared a moment and then said: "Hi-YI! YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you!"
-
-No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then
-he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as
-before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the
-apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said:
-
-"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?"
-
-Tom wheeled suddenly and said:
-
-"Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing."
-
-"Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of
-course you'd druther WORK--wouldn't you? Course you would!"
-
-Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said:
-
-"What do you call work?"
-
-"Why, ain't THAT work?"
-
-Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly:
-
-"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom
-Sawyer."
-
-"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?"
-
-The brush continued to move.
-
-"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get
-a chance to whitewash a fence every day?"
-
-That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom
-swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the
-effect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Ben
-watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more
-absorbed. Presently he said:
-
-"Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little."
-
-Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:
-
-"No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's
-awful particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know
---but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes,
-she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very
-careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two
-thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done."
-
-"No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'd
-let YOU, if you was me, Tom."
-
-"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted to
-do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't
-let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this
-fence and anything was to happen to it--"
-
-"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll give
-you the core of my apple."
-
-"Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--"
-
-"I'll give you ALL of it!"
-
-Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his
-heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in
-the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by,
-dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more
-innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every
-little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time
-Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for
-a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in
-for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on,
-hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being
-a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling
-in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles,
-part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a
-spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk,
-a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six
-fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a
-dog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of
-orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash.
-
-He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company
---and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out
-of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village.
-
-Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He
-had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely,
-that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only
-necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great
-and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have
-comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do,
-and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And
-this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers
-or performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or
-climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in
-England who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles
-on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them
-considerable money; but if they were offered wages for the service,
-that would turn it into work and then they would resign.
-
-The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place
-in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to
-report.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-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?"
-
-"What, a'ready? How much have you done?"
-
-"It's all done, aunt."
-
-"Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it."
-
-"I ain't, aunt; it IS all done."
-
-Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see
-for herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent.
-of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed,
-and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even
-a streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable.
-She said:
-
-"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you're
-a mind to, Tom." And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "But
-it's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long
-and play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you."
-
-She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took
-him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to
-him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a
-treat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort.
-And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" a
-doughnut.
-
-Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway
-that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and
-the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a
-hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties
-and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect,
-and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general
-thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at
-peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his
-black thread and getting him into trouble.
-
-Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by
-the back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond the
-reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square
-of the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for
-conflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of
-these armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These
-two great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that being
-better suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminence
-and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through
-aides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and
-hard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged,
-the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the
-necessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line and
-marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone.
-
-As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new
-girl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair
-plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroidered
-pantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A
-certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a
-memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction;
-he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor
-little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had
-confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest
-boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time
-she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is
-done.
-
-He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she
-had discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present,
-and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to
-win her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some
-time; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous
-gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl
-was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and
-leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer.
-She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom
-heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face
-lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment
-before she disappeared.
-
-The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and
-then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as if
-he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction.
-Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his
-nose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side,
-in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally
-his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he
-hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But
-only for a minute--only while he could button the flower inside his
-jacket, next his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not
-much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway.
-
-He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing
-off," as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tom
-comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some
-window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode
-home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions.
-
-All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered
-"what had got into the child." He took a good scolding about clodding
-Sid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar
-under his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said:
-
-"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it."
-
-"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into
-that sugar if I warn't watching you."
-
-Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his
-immunity, reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom which
-was wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped
-and broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even
-controlled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would
-not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly
-still till she asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and
-there would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model
-"catch it." He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold
-himself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreck
-discharging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said to
-himself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling on
-the floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom cried
-out:
-
-"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?--Sid broke it!"
-
-Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But
-when she got her tongue again, she only said:
-
-"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some
-other audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough."
-
-Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something
-kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into a
-confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that.
-So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart.
-Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart
-his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the
-consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice
-of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then,
-through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured
-himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching
-one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and
-die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured
-himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and
-his sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and how
-her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back
-her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would lie
-there cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whose
-griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos
-of these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to
-choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he
-winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a
-luxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear
-to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it;
-it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin
-Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an
-age-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved in
-clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in
-at the other.
-
-He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought
-desolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the
-river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and
-contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while,
-that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without
-undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought
-of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily
-increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she
-knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms
-around his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all
-the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable
-suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it
-up in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he
-rose up sighing and departed in the darkness.
-
-About half-past nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted street
-to where the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fell
-upon his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon the
-curtain of a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? He
-climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till
-he stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion;
-then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon
-his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor
-wilted flower. And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with no
-shelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the
-death-damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over him
-when the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she looked
-out upon the glad morning, and oh! would she drop one little tear upon
-his poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a bright
-young life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down?
-
-The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned the
-holy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains!
-
-The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz
-as of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a sound
-as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the
-fence and shot away in the gloom.
-
-Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying his
-drenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if he
-had any dim idea of making any "references to allusions," he thought
-better of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye.
-
-Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made
-mental note of the omission.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful
-village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family
-worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid
-courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of
-originality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter
-of the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai.
-
-Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get
-his verses." Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all his
-energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the
-Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter.
-At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson,
-but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human
-thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary
-took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through
-the fog:
-
-"Blessed are the--a--a--"
-
-"Poor"--
-
-"Yes--poor; blessed are the poor--a--a--"
-
-"In spirit--"
-
-"In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for they--they--"
-
-"THEIRS--"
-
-"For THEIRS. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom
-of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they--they--"
-
-"Sh--"
-
-"For they--a--"
-
-"S, H, A--"
-
-"For they S, H--Oh, I don't know what it is!"
-
-"SHALL!"
-
-"Oh, SHALL! for they shall--for they shall--a--a--shall mourn--a--a--
-blessed are they that shall--they that--a--they that shall mourn, for
-they shall--a--shall WHAT? Why don't you tell me, Mary?--what do you
-want to be so mean for?"
-
-"Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't
-do that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom,
-you'll manage it--and if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice.
-There, now, that's a good boy."
-
-"All right! What is it, Mary, tell me what it is."
-
-"Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice."
-
-"You bet you that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again."
-
-And he did "tackle it again"--and under the double pressure of
-curiosity and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that he
-accomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new "Barlow"
-knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that
-swept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the knife would
-not cut anything, but it was a "sure-enough" Barlow, and there was
-inconceivable grandeur in that--though where the Western boys ever got
-the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its
-injury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom
-contrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin
-on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday-school.
-
-Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went
-outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then he
-dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves;
-poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the
-kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the
-door. But Mary removed the towel and said:
-
-"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurt
-you."
-
-Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time
-he stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a big
-breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes
-shut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony
-of suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from
-the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped
-short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line
-there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in
-front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she
-was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of
-color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls
-wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately
-smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered his
-hair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, and
-his own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of
-his clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two years--they
-were simply called his "other clothes"--and so by that we know the
-size of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed
-himself; she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned his
-vast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned
-him with his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and
-uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for there
-was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He
-hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she
-coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought them
-out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do
-everything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively:
-
-"Please, Tom--that's a good boy."
-
-So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three
-children set out for Sunday-school--a place that Tom hated with his
-whole heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it.
-
-Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then church
-service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon
-voluntarily, and the other always remained too--for stronger reasons.
-The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three
-hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort
-of pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom
-dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade:
-
-"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"What'll you take for her?"
-
-"What'll you give?"
-
-"Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook."
-
-"Less see 'em."
-
-Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands.
-Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and
-some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other
-boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or
-fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm of
-clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a
-quarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave,
-elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a
-boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy
-turned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear
-him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's whole
-class were of a pattern--restless, noisy, and troublesome. When they
-came to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses
-perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried
-through, and each got his reward--in small blue tickets, each with a
-passage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses of
-the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be
-exchanged for it; ten red tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow
-tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible (worth forty
-cents in those easy times) to the pupil. How many of my readers would
-have the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, even
-for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way--it
-was the patient work of two years--and a boy of German parentage had
-won four or five. He once recited three thousand verses without
-stopping; but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great, and
-he was little better than an idiot from that day forth--a grievous
-misfortune for the school, for on great occasions, before company, the
-superintendent (as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy come out
-and "spread himself." Only the older pupils managed to keep their
-tickets and stick to their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, and
-so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthy
-circumstance; the successful pupil was so great and conspicuous for
-that day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired with a fresh
-ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom's
-mental stomach had never really hungered for one of those prizes, but
-unquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the glory
-and the eclat that came with it.
-
-In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with
-a closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its
-leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school superintendent
-makes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is as
-necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer
-who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert
---though why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet of
-music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a
-slim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair;
-he wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached his
-ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his
-mouth--a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning
-of the whole body when a side view was required; his chin was propped
-on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note,
-and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the
-fashion of the day, like sleigh-runners--an effect patiently and
-laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes
-pressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest
-of mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacred
-things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly
-matters, that unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had
-acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. He
-began after this fashion:
-
-"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty
-as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There
---that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see
-one little girl who is looking out of the window--I am afraid she
-thinks I am out there somewhere--perhaps up in one of the trees making
-a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you
-how good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces
-assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good." And
-so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the
-oration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar
-to us all.
-
-The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights
-and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings
-and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases
-of isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every
-sound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and
-the conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent
-gratitude.
-
-A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which
-was more or less rare--the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher,
-accompanied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-aged
-gentleman with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless
-the latter's wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless
-and full of chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too--he could
-not meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But
-when he saw this small new-comer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in
-a moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might
---cuffing boys, pulling hair, making faces--in a word, using every art
-that seemed likely to fascinate a girl and win her applause. His
-exaltation had but one alloy--the memory of his humiliation in this
-angel's garden--and that record in sand was fast washing out, under
-the waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now.
-
-The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr.
-Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The
-middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage--no less a one
-than the county judge--altogether the most august creation these
-children had ever looked upon--and they wondered what kind of material
-he was made of--and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half
-afraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away--so
-he had travelled, and seen the world--these very eyes had looked upon
-the county court-house--which was said to have a tin roof. The awe
-which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence
-and the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher,
-brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to
-be familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would
-have been music to his soul to hear the whisperings:
-
-"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say--look! he's a going to
-shake hands with him--he IS shaking hands with him! By jings, don't you
-wish you was Jeff?"
-
-Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official
-bustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments,
-discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a
-target. The librarian "showed off"--running hither and thither with his
-arms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that
-insect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off"
---bending sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, lifting
-pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good ones
-lovingly. The young gentlemen teachers "showed off" with small
-scoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention to
-discipline--and most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business up
-at the library, by the pulpit; and it was business that frequently had
-to be done over again two or three times (with much seeming vexation).
-The little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys
-"showed off" with such diligence that the air was thick with paper wads
-and the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat and
-beamed a majestic judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himself
-in the sun of his own grandeur--for he was "showing off," too.
-
-There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy
-complete, and that was a chance to deliver a Bible-prize and exhibit a
-prodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough
---he had been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given
-worlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind.
-
-And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward
-with nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and
-demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters
-was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten
-years. But there was no getting around it--here were the certified
-checks, and they were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevated
-to a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was
-announced from headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of the
-decade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero
-up to the judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels to
-gaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy--but
-those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too
-late that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by
-trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling
-whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes
-of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass.
-
-The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the
-superintendent could pump up under the circumstances; but it lacked
-somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him
-that there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light,
-perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused two
-thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises--a dozen would
-strain his capacity, without a doubt.
-
-Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in
-her face--but he wouldn't look. She wondered; then she was just a grain
-troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went--came again; she watched;
-a furtive glance told her worlds--and then her heart broke, and she was
-jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom
-most of all (she thought).
-
-Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath
-would hardly come, his heart quaked--partly because of the awful
-greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would
-have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The
-Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, and
-asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out:
-
-"Tom."
-
-"Oh, no, not Tom--it is--"
-
-"Thomas."
-
-"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very
-well. But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won't
-you?"
-
-"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say
-sir. You mustn't forget your manners."
-
-"Thomas Sawyer--sir."
-
-"That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow.
-Two thousand verses is a great many--very, very great many. And you
-never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; for
-knowledge is worth more than anything there is in the world; it's what
-makes great men and good men; you'll be a great man and a good man
-yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all
-owing to the precious Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood--it's all
-owing to my dear teachers that taught me to learn--it's all owing to
-the good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and
-gave me a beautiful Bible--a splendid elegant Bible--to keep and have
-it all for my own, always--it's all owing to right bringing up! That is
-what you will say, Thomas--and you wouldn't take any money for those
-two thousand verses--no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind
-telling me and this lady some of the things you've learned--no, I know
-you wouldn't--for we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no
-doubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us
-the names of the first two that were appointed?"
-
-Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed,
-now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters' heart sank within him. He said to
-himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest
-question--why DID the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak up
-and say:
-
-"Answer the gentleman, Thomas--don't be afraid."
-
-Tom still hung fire.
-
-"Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first
-two disciples were--"
-
-"DAVID AND GOLIAH!"
-
-Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-ABOUT half-past ten the cracked bell of the small church began to
-ring, and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon.
-The Sunday-school children distributed themselves about the house and
-occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt
-Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her--Tom being placed
-next the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open
-window and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd
-filed up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better
-days; the mayor and his wife--for they had a mayor there, among other
-unnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglass, fair,
-smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, her
-hill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and
-much the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg
-could boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyer
-Riverson, the new notable from a distance; next the belle of the
-village, followed by a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked young
-heart-breakers; then all the young clerks in town in a body--for they
-had stood in the vestibule sucking their cane-heads, a circling wall of
-oiled and simpering admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet;
-and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful
-care of his mother as if she were cut glass. He always brought his
-mother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys all
-hated him, he was so good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them"
-so much. His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as
-usual on Sundays--accidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he looked
-upon boys who had as snobs.
-
-The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more,
-to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell upon the
-church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the
-choir in the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered all
-through service. There was once a church choir that was not ill-bred,
-but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago,
-and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was in
-some foreign country.
-
-The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in
-a peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country.
-His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached
-a certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost
-word and then plunged down as if from a spring-board:
-
- Shall I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow'ry BEDS of ease,
-
- Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro' BLOODY seas?
-
-He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he was
-always called upon to read poetry; and when he was through, the ladies
-would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps,
-and "wall" their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Words
-cannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortal
-earth."
-
-After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into
-a bulletin-board, and read off "notices" of meetings and societies and
-things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of
-doom--a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities,
-away here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there is
-to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it.
-
-And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went
-into details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the
-church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself;
-for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United
-States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the
-President; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed
-by stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of
-European monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light
-and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear
-withal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed with
-a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace
-and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a
-grateful harvest of good. Amen.
-
-There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat
-down. The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer,
-he only endured it--if he even did that much. He was restive all
-through it; he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously
---for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of old, and the
-clergyman's regular route over it--and when a little trifle of new
-matter was interlarded, his ear detected it and his whole nature
-resented it; he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the
-midst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of
-him and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands together,
-embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that
-it seemed to almost part company with the body, and the slender thread
-of a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings with its hind legs
-and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coat-tails; going
-through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectly
-safe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom's hands itched to grab for
-it they did not dare--he believed his soul would be instantly destroyed
-if he did such a thing while the prayer was going on. But with the
-closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward; and the
-instant the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt
-detected the act and made him let it go.
-
-The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through
-an argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod
---and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone
-and thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be
-hardly worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; after
-church he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew
-anything else about the discourse. However, this time he was really
-interested for a little while. The minister made a grand and moving
-picture of the assembling together of the world's hosts at the
-millennium when the lion and the lamb should lie down together and a
-little child should lead them. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of
-the great spectacle were lost upon the boy; he only thought of the
-conspicuousness of the principal character before the on-looking
-nations; his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that he
-wished he could be that child, if it was a tame lion.
-
-Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed.
-Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was
-a large black beetle with formidable jaws--a "pinchbug," he called it.
-It was in a percussion-cap box. The first thing the beetle did was to
-take him by the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle went
-floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt finger
-went into the boy's mouth. The beetle lay there working its helpless
-legs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it was
-safe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon found
-relief in the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodle
-dog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and
-the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle;
-the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize; walked
-around it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again;
-grew bolder, and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made a
-gingerly snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and another;
-began to enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetle
-between his paws, and continued his experiments; grew weary at last,
-and then indifferent and absent-minded. His head nodded, and little by
-little his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. There
-was a sharp yelp, a flirt of the poodle's head, and the beetle fell a
-couple of yards away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboring
-spectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind
-fans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog looked
-foolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart,
-too, and a craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a
-wary attack on it again; jumping at it from every point of a circle,
-lighting with his fore-paws within an inch of the creature, making even
-closer snatches at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his
-ears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, after a while; tried
-to amuse himself with a fly but found no relief; followed an ant
-around, with his nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that;
-yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then
-there was a wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up the
-aisle; the yelps continued, and so did the dog; he crossed the house in
-front of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; he crossed before the
-doors; he clamored up the home-stretch; his anguish grew with his
-progress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in its orbit
-with the gleam and the speed of light. At last the frantic sufferer
-sheered from its course, and sprang into its master's lap; he flung it
-out of the window, and the voice of distress quickly thinned away and
-died in the distance.
-
-By this time the whole church was red-faced and suffocating with
-suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. The
-discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all
-possibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravest
-sentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst of
-unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pew-back, as if the poor
-parson had said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief to
-the whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the benediction
-pronounced.
-
-Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there
-was some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of
-variety in it. He had but one marring thought; he was willing that the
-dog should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright
-in him to carry it off.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found
-him so--because it began another week's slow suffering in school. He
-generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening
-holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much
-more odious.
-
-Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was
-sick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague
-possibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he
-investigated again. This time he thought he could detect colicky
-symptoms, and he began to encourage them with considerable hope. But
-they soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected
-further. Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth
-was loose. This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a
-"starter," as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came
-into court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that
-would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the
-present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and
-then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that
-laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him
-lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the
-sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know the
-necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it,
-so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit.
-
-But Sid slept on unconscious.
-
-Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe.
-
-No result from Sid.
-
-Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and
-then swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans.
-
-Sid snored on.
-
-Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This course
-worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then
-brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at
-Tom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said:
-
-"Tom! Say, Tom!" [No response.] "Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter,
-Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously.
-
-Tom moaned out:
-
-"Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me."
-
-"Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie."
-
-"No--never mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody."
-
-"But I must! DON'T groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been this
-way?"
-
-"Hours. Ouch! Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me."
-
-"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, DON'T! It makes my
-flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?"
-
-"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done
-to me. When I'm gone--"
-
-"Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tom--oh, don't. Maybe--"
-
-"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you
-give my window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that's
-come to town, and tell her--"
-
-But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in
-reality, now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his
-groans had gathered quite a genuine tone.
-
-Sid flew down-stairs and said:
-
-"Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!"
-
-"Dying!"
-
-"Yes'm. Don't wait--come quick!"
-
-"Rubbage! I don't believe it!"
-
-But she fled up-stairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels.
-And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached
-the bedside she gasped out:
-
-"You, Tom! Tom, what's the matter with you?"
-
-"Oh, auntie, I'm--"
-
-"What's the matter with you--what is the matter with you, child?"
-
-"Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!"
-
-The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a
-little, then did both together. This restored her and she said:
-
-"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense and
-climb out of this."
-
-The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt a
-little foolish, and he said:
-
-"Aunt Polly, it SEEMED mortified, and it hurt so I never minded my
-tooth at all."
-
-"Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with your tooth?"
-
-"One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful."
-
-"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth.
-Well--your tooth IS loose, but you're not going to die about that.
-Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen."
-
-Tom said:
-
-"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wish
-I may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stay
-home from school."
-
-"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought
-you'd get to stay home from school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I love
-you so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart
-with your outrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were
-ready. The old lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's tooth
-with a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the
-chunk of fire and suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The
-tooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now.
-
-But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school
-after breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in
-his upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and
-admirable way. He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the
-exhibition; and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre of
-fascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly
-without an adherent, and shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, and
-he said with a disdain which he did not feel that it wasn't anything to
-spit like Tom Sawyer; but another boy said, "Sour grapes!" and he
-wandered away a dismantled hero.
-
-Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry
-Finn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and
-dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless
-and vulgar and bad--and because all their children admired him so, and
-delighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be like
-him. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied
-Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders
-not to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance.
-Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grown
-men, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hat
-was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim; his coat,
-when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons
-far down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat
-of the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs
-dragged in the dirt when not rolled up.
-
-Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps
-in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to
-school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he could
-go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it
-suited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as he
-pleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring
-and the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, nor
-put on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everything
-that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every
-harassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg.
-
-Tom hailed the romantic outcast:
-
-"Hello, Huckleberry!"
-
-"Hello yourself, and see how you like it."
-
-"What's that you got?"
-
-"Dead cat."
-
-"Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?"
-
-"Bought him off'n a boy."
-
-"What did you give?"
-
-"I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughter-house."
-
-"Where'd you get the blue ticket?"
-
-"Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoop-stick."
-
-"Say--what is dead cats good for, Huck?"
-
-"Good for? Cure warts with."
-
-"No! Is that so? I know something that's better."
-
-"I bet you don't. What is it?"
-
-"Why, spunk-water."
-
-"Spunk-water! I wouldn't give a dern for spunk-water."
-
-"You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?"
-
-"No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did."
-
-"Who told you so!"
-
-"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnny
-told Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, and
-the nigger told me. There now!"
-
-"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. I
-don't know HIM. But I never see a nigger that WOULDN'T lie. Shucks! Now
-you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck."
-
-"Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where the
-rain-water was."
-
-"In the daytime?"
-
-"Certainly."
-
-"With his face to the stump?"
-
-"Yes. Least I reckon so."
-
-"Did he say anything?"
-
-"I don't reckon he did. I don't know."
-
-"Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blame
-fool way as that! Why, that ain't a-going to do any good. You got to go
-all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's a
-spunk-water stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the
-stump and jam your hand in and say:
-
- 'Barley-corn, barley-corn, injun-meal shorts,
- Spunk-water, spunk-water, swaller these warts,'
-
-and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and then
-turn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody.
-Because if you speak the charm's busted."
-
-"Well, that sounds like a good way; but that ain't the way Bob Tanner
-done."
-
-"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in this
-town; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to work
-spunk-water. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way,
-Huck. I play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable many
-warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean."
-
-"Yes, bean's good. I've done that."
-
-"Have you? What's your way?"
-
-"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get some
-blood, and then you put the blood on one piece of the bean and take and
-dig a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of
-the moon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piece
-that's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying to
-fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw the
-wart, and pretty soon off she comes."
-
-"Yes, that's it, Huck--that's it; though when you're burying it if you
-say 'Down bean; off wart; come no more to bother me!' it's better.
-That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville and
-most everywheres. But say--how do you cure 'em with dead cats?"
-
-"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long about
-midnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it's
-midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see
-'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk;
-and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'em
-and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm
-done with ye!' That'll fetch ANY wart."
-
-"Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?"
-
-"No, but old Mother Hopkins told me."
-
-"Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch."
-
-"Say! Why, Tom, I KNOW she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own
-self. He come along one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so he
-took up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, that
-very night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and broke
-his arm."
-
-"Why, that's awful. How did he know she was a-witching him?"
-
-"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you
-right stiddy, they're a-witching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz
-when they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards."
-
-"Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?"
-
-"To-night. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams to-night."
-
-"But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?"
-
-"Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight?--and
-THEN it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don't
-reckon."
-
-"I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?"
-
-"Of course--if you ain't afeard."
-
-"Afeard! 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?"
-
-"Yes--and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' me
-a-meowing around till old Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says
-'Dern that cat!' and so I hove a brick through his window--but don't
-you tell."
-
-"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me,
-but I'll meow this time. Say--what's that?"
-
-"Nothing but a tick."
-
-"Where'd you get him?"
-
-"Out in the woods."
-
-"What'll you take for him?"
-
-"I don't know. I don't want to sell him."
-
-"All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway."
-
-"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'm
-satisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for me."
-
-"Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if I
-wanted to."
-
-"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is a
-pretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year."
-
-"Say, Huck--I'll give you my tooth for him."
-
-"Less see it."
-
-Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry
-viewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said:
-
-"Is it genuwyne?"
-
-Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy.
-
-"Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade."
-
-Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately been
-the pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier
-than before.
-
-When Tom reached the little isolated frame schoolhouse, he strode in
-briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed.
-He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with
-business-like alacrity. The master, throned on high in his great
-splint-bottom arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study.
-The interruption roused him.
-
-"Thomas Sawyer!"
-
-Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble.
-
-"Sir!"
-
-"Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?"
-
-Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails of
-yellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electric
-sympathy of love; and by that form was THE ONLY VACANT PLACE on the
-girls' side of the schoolhouse. He instantly said:
-
-"I STOPPED TO TALK WITH HUCKLEBERRY FINN!"
-
-The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz of
-study ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his
-mind. The master said:
-
-"You--you did what?"
-
-"Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn."
-
-There was no mistaking the words.
-
-"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have ever
-listened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off your
-jacket."
-
-The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of
-switches notably diminished. Then the order followed:
-
-"Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let this be a warning to you."
-
-The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but
-in reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe of
-his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good
-fortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl
-hitched herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks
-and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon
-the long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book.
-
-By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur
-rose upon the dull air once more. 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."
-
-"No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't."
-
-"You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?"
-
-"No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me."
-
-"Oh, YOU don't want to see!"
-
-"Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand
-upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in
-earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were
-revealed: "I LOVE YOU."
-
-"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened
-and looked pleased, nevertheless.
-
-Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his
-ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across the
-house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles
-from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few
-awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a
-word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant.
-
-As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the
-turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the
-reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and
-turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into
-continents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, and
-got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought
-up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with
-ostentation for months.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his
-ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It
-seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was
-utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of
-sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying
-scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees.
-Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green
-sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of
-distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other
-living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's
-heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to
-pass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face
-lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know
-it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out. He released the
-tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed
-with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it
-was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned
-him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction.
-
-Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and
-now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in an
-instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn
-friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a
-pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner.
-The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were
-interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of
-the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the
-middle of it from top to bottom.
-
-"Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and
-I'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side,
-you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over."
-
-"All right, go ahead; start him up."
-
-The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe
-harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This
-change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with
-absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong,
-the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to
-all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The
-tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as
-anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would
-have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be
-twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep
-possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was
-too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was
-angry in a moment. Said he:
-
-"Tom, you let him alone."
-
-"I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe."
-
-"No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone."
-
-"Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much."
-
-"Let him alone, I tell you."
-
-"I won't!"
-
-"You shall--he's on my side of the line."
-
-"Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?"
-
-"I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and you
-sha'n't touch him."
-
-"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I
-blame please with him, or die!"
-
-A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on
-Joe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from
-the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been too
-absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile
-before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over
-them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he
-contributed his bit of variety to it.
-
-When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and
-whispered in her ear:
-
-"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to
-the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the
-lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same
-way."
-
-So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with
-another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and
-when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they
-sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil
-and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising
-house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking.
-Tom was swimming in bliss. He said:
-
-"Do you love rats?"
-
-"No! I hate them!"
-
-"Well, I do, too--LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your
-head with a string."
-
-"No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum."
-
-"Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now."
-
-"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give
-it back to me."
-
-That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their
-legs against the bench in excess of contentment.
-
-"Was you ever at a circus?" said Tom.
-
-"Yes, and my pa's going to take me again some time, if I'm good."
-
-"I been to the circus three or four times--lots of times. Church ain't
-shucks to a circus. There's things going on at a circus all the time.
-I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up."
-
-"Oh, are you! That will be nice. They're so lovely, all spotted up."
-
-"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of money--most a dollar a day,
-Ben Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you ever engaged?"
-
-"What's that?"
-
-"Why, engaged to be married."
-
-"No."
-
-"Would you like to?"
-
-"I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?"
-
-"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won't
-ever have anybody but him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that's
-all. Anybody can do it."
-
-"Kiss? What do you kiss for?"
-
-"Why, that, you know, is to--well, they always do that."
-
-"Everybody?"
-
-"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you remember
-what I wrote on the slate?"
-
-"Ye--yes."
-
-"What was it?"
-
-"I sha'n't tell you."
-
-"Shall I tell YOU?"
-
-"Ye--yes--but some other time."
-
-"No, now."
-
-"No, not now--to-morrow."
-
-"Oh, no, NOW. Please, Becky--I'll whisper it, I'll whisper it ever so
-easy."
-
-Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm
-about her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouth
-close to her ear. And then he added:
-
-"Now you whisper it to me--just the same."
-
-She resisted, for a while, and then said:
-
-"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But you
-mustn't ever tell anybody--WILL you, Tom? Now you won't, WILL you?"
-
-"No, indeed, indeed I won't. Now, Becky."
-
-He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breath
-stirred his curls and whispered, "I--love--you!"
-
-Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches,
-with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with her
-little white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and
-pleaded:
-
-"Now, Becky, it's all done--all over but the kiss. Don't you be afraid
-of that--it ain't anything at all. Please, Becky." And he tugged at her
-apron and the hands.
-
-By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowing
-with the struggle, came up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips and
-said:
-
-"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain't
-ever to love anybody but me, and you ain't ever to marry anybody but
-me, ever never and forever. Will you?"
-
-"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marry
-anybody but you--and you ain't to ever marry anybody but me, either."
-
-"Certainly. Of course. That's PART of it. And always coming to school
-or when we're going home, you're to walk with me, when there ain't
-anybody looking--and you choose me and I choose you at parties, because
-that's the way you do when you're engaged."
-
-"It's so nice. I never heard of it before."
-
-"Oh, it's ever so gay! Why, me and Amy Lawrence--"
-
-The big eyes told Tom his blunder and he stopped, confused.
-
-"Oh, Tom! Then I ain't the first you've ever been engaged to!"
-
-The child began to cry. Tom said:
-
-"Oh, don't cry, Becky, I don't care for her any more."
-
-"Yes, you do, Tom--you know you do."
-
-Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and
-turned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, with
-soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride was
-up, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and
-uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hoping
-she would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he began
-to feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle
-with him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it and
-entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with
-her face to the wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood a
-moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly:
-
-"Becky, I--I don't care for anybody but you."
-
-No reply--but sobs.
-
-"Becky"--pleadingly. "Becky, won't you say something?"
-
-More sobs.
-
-Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an
-andiron, and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said:
-
-"Please, Becky, won't you take it?"
-
-She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over
-the hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. Presently
-Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; she
-flew around to the play-yard; he was not there. Then she called:
-
-"Tom! Come back, Tom!"
-
-She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companions
-but silence and loneliness. So she sat down to cry again and upbraid
-herself; and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and she
-had to hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the cross
-of a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none among the strangers
-about her to exchange sorrows with.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of
-the track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He
-crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing
-juvenile superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour
-later he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of
-Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away off
-in the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless
-way to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading
-oak. There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat had
-even stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was
-broken by no sound but the occasional far-off hammering of a
-woodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense
-of loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in
-melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his surroundings. He
-sat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands,
-meditating. It seemed to him that life was but a trouble, at best, and
-he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must be
-very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and
-ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the
-grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve
-about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sunday-school record he
-could be willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to this girl.
-What had he done? Nothing. He had meant the best in the world, and been
-treated like a dog--like a very dog. She would be sorry some day--maybe
-when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die TEMPORARILY!
-
-But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one
-constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift
-insensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turned
-his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--ever
-so far away, into unknown countries beyond the seas--and never came
-back any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clown
-recurred to him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and
-jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded themselves
-upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the
-romantic. No, he would be a soldier, and return after long years, all
-war-worn and illustrious. No--better still, he would join the Indians,
-and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the
-trackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future come
-back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and
-prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy summer morning, with a
-bloodcurdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companions
-with unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even than
-this. He would be a pirate! That was it! NOW his future lay plain
-before him, and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name would
-fill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would go
-plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, the
-Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And at
-the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village
-and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet
-doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt
-bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his
-slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull
-and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings,
-"It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!"
-
-Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from
-home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore
-he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources
-together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under
-one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded
-hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively:
-
-"What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!"
-
-Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it
-up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides
-were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless!
-He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said:
-
-"Well, that beats anything!"
-
-Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The
-truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and
-all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a
-marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a
-fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just
-used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had
-gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they
-had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably
-failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations.
-He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its
-failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several
-times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places
-afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided
-that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he
-would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he
-found a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it.
-He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and
-called--
-
-"Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug,
-doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!"
-
-The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a
-second and then darted under again in a fright.
-
-"He dasn't tell! So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it."
-
-He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he
-gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have
-the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a
-patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to
-his treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been
-standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble
-from his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying:
-
-"Brother, go find your brother!"
-
-He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must
-have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last
-repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each
-other.
-
-Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green
-aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a
-suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log,
-disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in
-a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with
-fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an
-answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way
-and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company:
-
-"Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow."
-
-Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom.
-Tom called:
-
-"Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?"
-
-"Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--"
-
-"Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked
-"by the book," from memory.
-
-"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?"
-
-"I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know."
-
-"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute
-with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!"
-
-They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground,
-struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful
-combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said:
-
-"Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!"
-
-So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and
-by Tom shouted:
-
-"Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?"
-
-"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of
-it."
-
-"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in
-the book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor
-Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the
-back."
-
-There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received
-the whack and fell.
-
-"Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair."
-
-"Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book."
-
-"Well, it's blamed mean--that's all."
-
-"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and
-lam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and
-you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me."
-
-This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then
-Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to
-bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe,
-representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth,
-gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow
-falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he
-shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a
-nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse.
-
-The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off
-grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern
-civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss.
-They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than
-President of the United States forever.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual.
-They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and
-waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be
-nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He
-would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was
-afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark.
-Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little,
-scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking
-of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to
-crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were
-abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And
-now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could
-locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at
-the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were
-numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was
-answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an
-agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity
-begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven,
-but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his
-half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a
-neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the
-crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed
-brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and
-out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all
-fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped
-to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn
-was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the
-gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall
-grass of the graveyard.
-
-It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a
-hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board
-fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of
-the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the
-whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a
-tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over
-the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory
-of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer
-have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light.
-
-A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the
-spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked
-little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the
-pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the
-sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the
-protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet
-of the grave.
-
-Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting
-of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness.
-Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said
-in a whisper:
-
-"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?"
-
-Huckleberry whispered:
-
-"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, AIN'T it?"
-
-"I bet it is."
-
-There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter
-inwardly. Then Tom whispered:
-
-"Say, Hucky--do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?"
-
-"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does."
-
-Tom, after a pause:
-
-"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm.
-Everybody calls him Hoss."
-
-"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout these-yer dead
-people, Tom."
-
-This was a damper, and conversation died again.
-
-Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said:
-
-"Sh!"
-
-"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts.
-
-"Sh! There 'tis again! Didn't you hear it?"
-
-"I--"
-
-"There! Now you hear it."
-
-"Lord, Tom, they're coming! They're coming, sure. What'll we do?"
-
-"I dono. Think they'll see us?"
-
-"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn't
-come."
-
-"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't
-doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us
-at all."
-
-"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver."
-
-"Listen!"
-
-The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled
-sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard.
-
-"Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?"
-
-"It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful."
-
-Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an
-old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable
-little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a
-shudder:
-
-"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners!
-Can you pray?"
-
-"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now
-I lay me down to sleep, I--'"
-
-"Sh!"
-
-"What is it, Huck?"
-
-"They're HUMANS! One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter's
-voice."
-
-"No--'tain't so, is it?"
-
-"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to
-notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!"
-
-"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here
-they come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot!
-They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them
-voices; it's Injun Joe."
-
-"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils a
-dern sight. What kin they be up to?"
-
-The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the
-grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place.
-
-"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the
-lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson.
-
-Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a
-couple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open
-the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came
-and sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so
-close the boys could have touched him.
-
-"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at any
-moment."
-
-They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was
-no noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight
-of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck
-upon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or
-two the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid
-with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the
-ground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid
-face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered
-with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a
-large spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then
-said:
-
-"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with
-another five, or here she stays."
-
-"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe.
-
-"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your
-pay in advance, and I've paid you."
-
-"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the
-doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from
-your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to
-eat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get
-even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for
-a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for
-nothing. And now I've GOT you, and you got to SETTLE, you know!"
-
-He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this
-time. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the
-ground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed:
-
-"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had
-grappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and
-main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels.
-Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched
-up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and
-round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the
-doctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams'
-grave and felled Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instant
-the half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the
-young man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him
-with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the
-dreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away in
-the dark.
-
-Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over
-the two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately,
-gave a long gasp or two and was still. The half-breed muttered:
-
-"THAT score is settled--damn you."
-
-Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in
-Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three
---four--five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His
-hand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it
-fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and
-gazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's.
-
-"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said.
-
-"It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving.
-
-"What did you do it for?"
-
-"I! I never done it!"
-
-"Look here! That kind of talk won't wash."
-
-Potter trembled and grew white.
-
-"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it's
-in my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle;
-can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--HONEST, now, old
-feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I
-never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him
-so young and promising."
-
-"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard
-and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering
-like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched
-you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til
-now."
-
-"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute if
-I did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I
-reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but
-never with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you
-won't tell, Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and
-stood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You WON'T tell, WILL you,
-Joe?" And the poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolid
-murderer, and clasped his appealing hands.
-
-"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I
-won't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say."
-
-"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I
-live." And Potter began to cry.
-
-"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering.
-You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave any
-tracks behind you."
-
-Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The
-half-breed stood looking after him. He muttered:
-
-"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he
-had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so
-far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself
---chicken-heart!"
-
-Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the
-lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the
-moon's. The stillness was complete again, too.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with
-horror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time,
-apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump
-that started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them
-catch their breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages that lay
-near the village, the barking of the aroused watch-dogs seemed to give
-wings to their feet.
-
-"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down!"
-whispered Tom, in short catches between breaths. "I can't stand it much
-longer."
-
-Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed
-their eyes on the goal of their hopes and bent to their work to win it.
-They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burst
-through the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering
-shadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whispered:
-
-"Huckleberry, what do you reckon'll come of this?"
-
-"If Doctor Robinson dies, I reckon hanging'll come of it."
-
-"Do you though?"
-
-"Why, I KNOW it, Tom."
-
-Tom thought a while, then he said:
-
-"Who'll tell? We?"
-
-"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun Joe
-DIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure as
-we're a laying here."
-
-"That's just what I was thinking to myself, Huck."
-
-"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He's
-generally drunk enough."
-
-Tom said nothing--went on thinking. Presently he whispered:
-
-"Huck, Muff Potter don't know it. How can he tell?"
-
-"What's the reason he don't know it?"
-
-"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckon
-he could see anything? D'you reckon he knowed anything?"
-
-"By hokey, that's so, Tom!"
-
-"And besides, look-a-here--maybe that whack done for HIM!"
-
-"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; and
-besides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belt
-him over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so,
-his own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a
-man was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono."
-
-After another reflective silence, Tom said:
-
-"Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?"
-
-"Tom, we GOT to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn't
-make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to
-squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, less
-take and swear to one another--that's what we got to do--swear to keep
-mum."
-
-"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swear
-that we--"
-
-"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little
-rubbishy common things--specially with gals, cuz THEY go back on you
-anyway, and blab if they get in a huff--but there orter be writing
-'bout a big thing like this. And blood."
-
-Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, and
-awful; the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keeping
-with it. He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moonlight,
-took a little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon on
-his work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow
-down-stroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up
-the pressure on the up-strokes. [See next page.]
-
- "Huck Finn and
- Tom Sawyer swears
- they will keep mum
- about This and They
- wish They may Drop
- down dead in Their
- Tracks if They ever
- Tell and Rot."
-
-Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing,
-and the sublimity of his language. He at once took a pin from his lapel
-and was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said:
-
-"Hold on! Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease on
-it."
-
-"What's verdigrease?"
-
-"It's p'ison. That's what it is. You just swaller some of it once
---you'll see."
-
-So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boy
-pricked the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. In
-time, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the
-ball of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to
-make an H and an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingle
-close to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and
-the fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and
-the key thrown away.
-
-A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the
-ruined building, now, but they did not notice it.
-
-"Tom," whispered Huckleberry, "does this keep us from EVER telling
---ALWAYS?"
-
-"Of course it does. It don't make any difference WHAT happens, we got
-to keep mum. We'd drop down dead--don't YOU know that?"
-
-"Yes, I reckon that's so."
-
-They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up
-a long, lugubrious howl just outside--within ten feet of them. The boys
-clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright.
-
-"Which of us does he mean?" gasped Huckleberry.
-
-"I dono--peep through the crack. Quick!"
-
-"No, YOU, Tom!"
-
-"I can't--I can't DO it, Huck!"
-
-"Please, Tom. There 'tis again!"
-
-"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful!" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's Bull
-Harbison." *
-
-[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of
-him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son or a dog of that name was "Bull
-Harbison."]
-
-"Oh, that's good--I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd a
-bet anything it was a STRAY dog."
-
-The dog howled again. The boys' hearts sank once more.
-
-"Oh, my! that ain't no Bull Harbison!" whispered Huckleberry. "DO, Tom!"
-
-Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. His
-whisper was hardly audible when he said:
-
-"Oh, Huck, IT S A STRAY DOG!"
-
-"Quick, Tom, quick! Who does he mean?"
-
-"Huck, he must mean us both--we're right together."
-
-"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'bout
-where I'LL go to. I been so wicked."
-
-"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a
-feller's told NOT to do. I might a been good, like Sid, if I'd a tried
---but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, I lay
-I'll just WALLER in Sunday-schools!" And Tom began to snuffle a little.
-
-"YOU bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom
-Sawyer, you're just old pie, 'longside o' what I am. Oh, LORDY, lordy,
-lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance."
-
-Tom choked off and whispered:
-
-"Look, Hucky, look! He's got his BACK to us!"
-
-Hucky looked, with joy in his heart.
-
-"Well, he has, by jingoes! Did he before?"
-
-"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully,
-you know. NOW who can he mean?"
-
-The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears.
-
-"Sh! What's that?" he whispered.
-
-"Sounds like--like hogs grunting. No--it's somebody snoring, Tom."
-
-"That IS it! Where 'bouts is it, Huck?"
-
-"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used to
-sleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, he
-just lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever
-coming back to this town any more."
-
-The spirit of adventure rose in the boys' souls once more.
-
-"Hucky, do you das't to go if I lead?"
-
-"I don't like to, much. Tom, s'pose it's Injun Joe!"
-
-Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and the
-boys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take to
-their heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily
-down, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps
-of the snorer, Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp snap.
-The man moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight.
-It was Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopes
-too, when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tiptoed
-out, through the broken weather-boarding, and stopped at a little
-distance to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on
-the night air again! They turned and saw the strange dog standing
-within a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, with
-his nose pointing heavenward.
-
-"Oh, geeminy, it's HIM!" exclaimed both boys, in a breath.
-
-"Say, Tom--they say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller's
-house, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill
-come in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; and
-there ain't anybody dead there yet."
-
-"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall
-in the kitchen fire and burn herself terrible the very next Saturday?"
-
-"Yes, but she ain't DEAD. And what's more, she's getting better, too."
-
-"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as Muff
-Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all about
-these kind of things, Huck."
-
-Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom
-window the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution,
-and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his
-escapade. He was not aware that the gently-snoring Sid was awake, and
-had been so for an hour.
-
-When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the
-light, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not
-been called--persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filled
-him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and down-stairs,
-feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they had
-finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there were
-averted eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a
-chill to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but it
-was up-hill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into
-silence and let his heart sink down to the depths.
-
-After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in
-the hope that he was going to be flogged; but it was not so. His aunt
-wept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so;
-and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her gray
-hairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try any
-more. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was
-sorer now than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised
-to reform over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feeling
-that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a
-feeble confidence.
-
-He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid;
-and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate was
-unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging,
-along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the air
-of one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to
-trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his
-desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony
-stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go.
-His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time
-he slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object with
-a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossal
-sigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass andiron knob!
-
-This final feather broke the camel's back.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified
-with the ghastly news. No need of the as yet undreamed-of telegraph;
-the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to
-house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the
-schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the town would have
-thought strangely of him if he had not.
-
-A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been
-recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potter--so the story ran.
-And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washing
-himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and
-that Potter had at once sneaked off--suspicious circumstances,
-especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was also
-said that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public
-are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a
-verdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down
-all the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that
-he would be captured before night.
-
-All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak
-vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not a
-thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful,
-unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place,
-he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismal
-spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody
-pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both
-looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything
-in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the
-grisly spectacle before them.
-
-"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to
-grave robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" This
-was the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His
-hand is here."
-
-Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid
-face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle,
-and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!"
-
-"Who? Who?" from twenty voices.
-
-"Muff Potter!"
-
-"Hallo, he's stopped!--Look out, he's turning! Don't let him get away!"
-
-People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't
-trying to get away--he only looked doubtful and perplexed.
-
-"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a
-quiet look at his work, I reckon--didn't expect any company."
-
-The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through,
-ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face was
-haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood
-before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face
-in his hands and burst into tears.
-
-"I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I never
-done it."
-
-"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice.
-
-This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked
-around him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe,
-and exclaimed:
-
-"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never--"
-
-"Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff.
-
-Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to
-the ground. Then he said:
-
-"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get--" He shuddered;
-then waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell
-'em, Joe, tell 'em--it ain't any use any more."
-
-Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the
-stony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every
-moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head,
-and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had
-finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to
-break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and
-vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and
-it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that.
-
-"Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebody
-said.
-
-"I couldn't help it--I couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to
-run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell
-to sobbing again.
-
-Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes
-afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that the
-lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe
-had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most
-balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could
-not take their fascinated eyes from his face.
-
-They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should
-offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master.
-
-Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in a
-wagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering crowd
-that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy
-circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were
-disappointed, for more than one villager remarked:
-
-"It was within three feet of Muff Potter when it done it."
-
-Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as
-much as a week after this; and at breakfast one morning Sid said:
-
-"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me
-awake half the time."
-
-Tom blanched and dropped his eyes.
-
-"It's a bad sign," said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on your
-mind, Tom?"
-
-"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he
-spilled his coffee.
-
-"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's
-blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. And
-you said, 'Don't torment me so--I'll tell!' Tell WHAT? What is it
-you'll tell?"
-
-Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might
-have happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly's
-face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said:
-
-"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night
-myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it."
-
-Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed
-satisfied. Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could,
-and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his
-jaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and
-frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow
-listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage
-back to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and
-the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to
-make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself.
-
-It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding
-inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his
-mind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries,
-though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises;
-he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness--and that was
-strange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a
-marked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when he
-could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went out
-of vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience.
-
-Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his
-opportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled such
-small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The
-jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge
-of the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it was
-seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's
-conscience.
-
-The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe and
-ride him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was his
-character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead
-in the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of
-his inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing the
-grave-robbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not
-to try the case in the courts at present.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-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 blister-plasters. 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.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a
-forsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found
-out what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had
-tried to do right and get along, but they would not let him; since
-nothing would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let them
-blame HIM for the consequences--why shouldn't they? What right had the
-friendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he
-would lead a life of crime. There was no choice.
-
-By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to
-"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he
-should never, never hear that old familiar sound any more--it was very
-hard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the cold
-world, he must submit--but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick
-and fast.
-
-Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe Harper
---hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his heart.
-Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom, wiping
-his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about a
-resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home by
-roaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by
-hoping that Joe would not forget him.
-
-But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been
-going to make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His
-mother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never
-tasted and knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him
-and wished him to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him
-to do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having
-driven her poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die.
-
-As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to
-stand by each other and be brothers and never separate till death
-relieved them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans.
-Joe was for being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and
-dying, some time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening to
-Tom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a
-life of crime, and so he consented to be a pirate.
-
-Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi
-River was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded
-island, with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as
-a rendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the further
-shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson's
-Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a
-matter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry
-Finn, and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; he
-was indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on
-the river-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour--which
-was midnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to
-capture. Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he
-could steal in the most dark and mysterious way--as became outlaws. And
-before the afternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet
-glory of spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear
-something." All who got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum and
-wait."
-
-About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles,
-and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking the
-meeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay
-like an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the
-quiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from under
-the bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in the
-same way. Then a guarded voice said:
-
-"Who goes there?"
-
-"Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names."
-
-"Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tom
-had furnished these titles, from his favorite literature.
-
-"'Tis well. Give the countersign."
-
-Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to
-the brooding night:
-
-"BLOOD!"
-
-Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it,
-tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There was
-an easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it
-lacked the advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate.
-
-The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about worn
-himself out with getting it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen a
-skillet and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had also brought
-a few corn-cobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or
-"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said it
-would never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought;
-matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire
-smouldering upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they went
-stealthily thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an
-imposing adventure of it, saying, "Hist!" every now and then, and
-suddenly halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginary
-dagger-hilts; and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe"
-stirred, to "let him have it to the hilt," because "dead men tell no
-tales." They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all down at the
-village laying in stores or having a spree, but still that was no
-excuse for their conducting this thing in an unpiratical way.
-
-They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar and
-Joe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with folded
-arms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper:
-
-"Luff, and bring her to the wind!"
-
-"Aye-aye, sir!"
-
-"Steady, steady-y-y-y!"
-
-"Steady it is, sir!"
-
-"Let her go off a point!"
-
-"Point it is, sir!"
-
-As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward mid-stream
-it was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for
-"style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular.
-
-"What sail's she carrying?"
-
-"Courses, tops'ls, and flying-jib, sir."
-
-"Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of ye
---foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!"
-
-"Aye-aye, sir!"
-
-"Shake out that maintogalans'l! Sheets and braces! NOW my hearties!"
-
-"Aye-aye, sir!"
-
-"Hellum-a-lee--hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port,
-port! NOW, men! With a will! Stead-y-y-y!"
-
-"Steady it is, sir!"
-
-The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed her
-head right, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, so
-there was not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was
-said during the next three-quarters of an hour. Now the raft was
-passing before the distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showed
-where it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of
-star-gemmed water, unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening.
-The Black Avenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" upon
-the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing
-"she" could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death
-with dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips.
-It was but a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island
-beyond eyeshot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with a
-broken and satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last,
-too; and they all looked so long that they came near letting the
-current drift them out of the range of the island. But they discovered
-the danger in time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in
-the morning the raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the
-head of the island, and they waded back and forth until they had landed
-their freight. Part of the little raft's belongings consisted of an old
-sail, and this they spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to
-shelter their provisions; but they themselves would sleep in the open
-air in good weather, as became outlaws.
-
-They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty
-steps within the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked some
-bacon in the frying-pan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone"
-stock they had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that
-wild, free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabited
-island, far from the haunts of men, and they said they never would
-return to civilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threw
-its ruddy glare upon the pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple,
-and upon the varnished foliage and festooning vines.
-
-When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance of
-corn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass,
-filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but they
-would not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roasting
-camp-fire.
-
-"AIN'T it gay?" said Joe.
-
-"It's NUTS!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?"
-
-"Say? Well, they'd just die to be here--hey, Hucky!"
-
-"I reckon so," said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't want
-nothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'ally--and
-here they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so."
-
-"It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up,
-mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all that
-blame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do ANYTHING, Joe,
-when he's ashore, but a hermit HE has to be praying considerable, and
-then he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way."
-
-"Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it,
-you know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it."
-
-"You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, like
-they used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. And a
-hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and put
-sackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and--"
-
-"What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck.
-
-"I dono. But they've GOT to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to do
-that if you was a hermit."
-
-"Dern'd if I would," said Huck.
-
-"Well, what would you do?"
-
-"I dono. But I wouldn't do that."
-
-"Why, Huck, you'd HAVE to. How'd you get around it?"
-
-"Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away."
-
-"Run away! Well, you WOULD be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd be
-a disgrace."
-
-The Red-Handed made no response, being better employed. He had
-finished gouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded
-it with tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a
-cloud of fragrant smoke--he was in the full bloom of luxurious
-contentment. The other pirates envied him this majestic vice, and
-secretly resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said:
-
-"What does pirates have to do?"
-
-Tom said:
-
-"Oh, they have just a bully time--take ships and burn them, and get
-the money and bury it in awful places in their island where there's
-ghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships--make
-'em walk a plank."
-
-"And they carry the women to the island," said Joe; "they don't kill
-the women."
-
-"No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the women--they're too noble. And
-the women's always beautiful, too.
-
-"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silver
-and di'monds," said Joe, with enthusiasm.
-
-"Who?" said Huck.
-
-"Why, the pirates."
-
-Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly.
-
-"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with a
-regretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none but these."
-
-But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough,
-after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understand
-that his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary for
-wealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe.
-
-Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon the
-eyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of the
-Red-Handed, and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and the
-weary. The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main
-had more difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayers
-inwardly, and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority
-to make them kneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not to
-say them at all, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths as
-that, lest they might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from
-heaven. Then at once they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge
-of sleep--but an intruder came, now, that would not "down." It was
-conscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doing
-wrong to run away; and next they thought of the stolen meat, and then
-the real torture came. They tried to argue it away by reminding
-conscience that they had purloined sweetmeats and apples scores of
-times; but conscience was not to be appeased by such thin
-plausibilities; it seemed to them, in the end, that there was no
-getting around the stubborn fact that taking sweetmeats was only
-"hooking," while taking bacon and hams and such valuables was plain
-simple stealing--and there was a command against that in the Bible. So
-they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in the business,
-their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of stealing.
-Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistent
-pirates fell peacefully to sleep.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and
-rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the
-cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in
-the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred;
-not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops
-stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the
-fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe
-and Huck still slept.
-
-Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently
-the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of
-the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life
-manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to
-work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came
-crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the air
-from time to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding again--for he
-was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its own
-accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling,
-by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to
-go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with its
-curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and
-began a journey over him, his whole heart was glad--for that meant that
-he was going to have a new suit of clothes--without the shadow of a
-doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared,
-from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled
-manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms,
-and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bug
-climbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to
-it and said, "Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire,
-your children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it
---which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was
-credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its
-simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at
-its ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against
-its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this
-time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head,
-and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of
-enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and
-stopped on a twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one
-side and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel
-and a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at
-intervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had
-probably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to
-be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long
-lances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near,
-and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene.
-
-Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a
-shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and
-tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white
-sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the
-distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a
-slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only
-gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge
-between them and civilization.
-
-They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and
-ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found
-a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad
-oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a
-wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee.
-While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to
-hold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank
-and threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had
-not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some
-handsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish--provisions
-enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were
-astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did
-not know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is
-caught the better he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce
-open-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient
-of hunger make, too.
-
-They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke,
-and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They
-tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush,
-among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the
-ground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they came
-upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers.
-
-They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be
-astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles
-long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to
-was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards
-wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the
-middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too
-hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and
-then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon
-began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded
-in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the
-spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing
-crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently--it was budding
-homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps
-and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and
-none was brave enough to speak his thought.
-
-For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar
-sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a
-clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound
-became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started,
-glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude.
-There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen
-boom came floating down out of the distance.
-
-"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.
-
-"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper.
-
-"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder--"
-
-"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen--don't talk."
-
-They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom
-troubled the solemn hush.
-
-"Let's go and see."
-
-They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town.
-They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The
-little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting
-with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were
-a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the
-neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what
-the men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst
-from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud,
-that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again.
-
-"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!"
-
-"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner
-got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him
-come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put
-quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody
-that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop."
-
-"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread
-do that."
-
-"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly
-what they SAY over it before they start it out."
-
-"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and
-they don't."
-
-"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves.
-Of COURSE they do. Anybody might know that."
-
-The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because
-an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be
-expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such
-gravity.
-
-"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe.
-
-"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is."
-
-The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought
-flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed:
-
-"Boys, I know who's drownded--it's us!"
-
-They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they
-were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account;
-tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor
-lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being
-indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole
-town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety
-was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after
-all.
-
-As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed
-business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They
-were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious
-trouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it,
-and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying
-about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their
-account were gratifying to look upon--from their point of view. But
-when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to
-talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently
-wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe
-could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not
-enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they
-grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by
-Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others
-might look upon a return to civilization--not right now, but--
-
-Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined
-in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get
-out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted homesickness
-clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to
-rest for the moment.
-
-As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joe
-followed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time,
-watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees,
-and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung
-by the camp-fire. He picked up and inspected several large
-semi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose
-two which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully
-wrote something upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled up
-and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and
-removed it to a little distance from the owner. And he also put into the
-hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value--among them
-a lump of chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that
-kind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his
-way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing,
-and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wading
-toward the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he was
-half-way over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so he
-struck out confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam
-quartering upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than he
-had expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along
-till he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his
-jacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck through
-the woods, following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before
-ten o'clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, and
-saw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank.
-Everything was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank,
-watching with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four
-strokes and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at the boat's
-stern. He laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting.
-
-Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "cast
-off." A minute or two later the skiff's head was standing high up,
-against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in
-his success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. At
-the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and Tom
-slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards
-downstream, out of danger of possible stragglers.
-
-He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his
-aunt's back fence. He climbed over, approached the "ell," and looked in
-at the sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. There sat
-Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together,
-talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and the
-door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then he
-pressed gently and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushing
-cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he might
-squeeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began,
-warily.
-
-"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up.
-"Why, that door's open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of
-strange things now. Go 'long and shut it, Sid."
-
-Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed"
-himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his
-aunt's foot.
-
-"But as I was saying," said Aunt Polly, "he warn't BAD, so to say
---only mischEEvous. Only just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. He
-warn't any more responsible than a colt. HE never meant any harm, and
-he was the best-hearted boy that ever was"--and she began to cry.
-
-"It was just so with my Joe--always full of his devilment, and up to
-every kind of mischief, but he was just as unselfish and kind as he
-could be--and laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for taking
-that cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myself
-because it was sour, and I never to see him again in this world, never,
-never, never, poor abused boy!" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heart
-would break.
-
-"I hope Tom's better off where he is," said Sid, "but if he'd been
-better in some ways--"
-
-"SID!" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could not
-see it. "Not a word against my Tom, now that he's gone! God'll take
-care of HIM--never you trouble YOURself, sir! Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don't
-know how to give him up! I don't know how to give him up! He was such a
-comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most."
-
-"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away--Blessed be the name of
-the Lord! But it's so hard--Oh, it's so hard! Only last Saturday my
-Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him
-sprawling. Little did I know then, how soon--Oh, if it was to do over
-again I'd hug him and bless him for it."
-
-"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know just
-exactly how you feel. No longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom took
-and filled the cat full of Pain-killer, and I did think the cretur
-would tear the house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's head
-with my thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's out of all his
-troubles now. And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach--"
-
-But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirely
-down. Tom was snuffling, now, himself--and more in pity of himself than
-anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly word
-for him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himself
-than ever before. Still, he was sufficiently touched by his aunt's
-grief to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her with
-joy--and the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to
-his nature, too, but he resisted and lay still.
-
-He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it was
-conjectured at first that the boys had got drowned while taking a swim;
-then the small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said the
-missing lads had promised that the village should "hear something"
-soon; the wise-heads had "put this and that together" and decided that
-the lads had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next town
-below, presently; but toward noon the raft had been found, lodged
-against the Missouri shore some five or six miles below the village
---and then hope perished; they must be drowned, else hunger would have
-driven them home by nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that the
-search for the bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because the
-drowning must have occurred in mid-channel, since the boys, being good
-swimmers, would otherwise have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday
-night. If the bodies continued missing until Sunday, all hope would be
-given over, and the funerals would be preached on that morning. Tom
-shuddered.
-
-Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing good-night and turned to go. Then with a
-mutual impulse the two bereaved women flung themselves into each
-other's arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Polly
-was tender far beyond her wont, in her good-night to Sid and Mary. Sid
-snuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all her heart.
-
-Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, so
-appealingly, and with such measureless love in her words and her old
-trembling voice, that he was weltering in tears again, long before she
-was through.
-
-He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making
-broken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and
-turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in her
-sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the
-candle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full
-of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the
-candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His
-face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the bark
-hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and
-straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him.
-
-He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large
-there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was
-tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and
-slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped
-into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a
-mile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himself
-stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for
-this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture the
-skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore
-legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be
-made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and
-entered the woods.
-
-He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep
-awake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was far
-spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast the
-island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the
-great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A
-little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and
-heard Joe say:
-
-"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He
-knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for
-that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?"
-
-"Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain't they?"
-
-"Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain't
-back here to breakfast."
-
-"Which he is!" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, stepping
-grandly into camp.
-
-A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and as
-the boys set to work upon it, Tom recounted (and adorned) his
-adventures. They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the
-tale was done. Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep till
-noon, and the other pirates got ready to fish and explore.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the
-bar. They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a
-soft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands.
-Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They
-were perfectly round white things a trifle smaller than an English
-walnut. They had a famous fried-egg feast that night, and another on
-Friday morning.
-
-After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and
-chased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until
-they were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal
-water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their
-legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun.
-And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each
-other's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with
-averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and
-struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all
-went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing,
-sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time.
-
-When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the
-dry, hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by
-and by break for the water again and go through the original
-performance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked
-skin represented flesh-colored "tights" very fairly; so they drew a
-ring in the sand and had a circus--with three clowns in it, for none
-would yield this proudest post to his neighbor.
-
-Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ring-taw" and
-"keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another
-swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off
-his trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his
-ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the
-protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he
-had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to
-rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and fell
-to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay
-drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with
-his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his
-weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He
-erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving
-the other boys together and joining them.
-
-But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so
-homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay
-very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted,
-but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready
-to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon,
-he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of
-cheerfulness:
-
-"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore
-it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light
-on a rotten chest full of gold and silver--hey?"
-
-But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply.
-Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was
-discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking
-very gloomy. Finally he said:
-
-"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome."
-
-"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of
-the fishing that's here."
-
-"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home."
-
-"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere."
-
-"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there
-ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home."
-
-"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon."
-
-"Yes, I DO want to see my mother--and you would, too, if you had one.
-I ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little.
-
-"Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck?
-Poor thing--does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like
-it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?"
-
-Huck said, "Y-e-s"--without any heart in it.
-
-"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising.
-"There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.
-
-"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get
-laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies.
-We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can
-get along without him, per'aps."
-
-But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go
-sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see
-Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an
-ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade
-off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at
-Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:
-
-"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now
-it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom."
-
-"I won't! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay."
-
-"Tom, I better go."
-
-"Well, go 'long--who's hendering you."
-
-Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said:
-
-"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for
-you when we get to shore."
-
-"Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all."
-
-Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a
-strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too.
-He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It
-suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He
-made one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his
-comrades, yelling:
-
-"Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!"
-
-They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they
-were, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till at
-last they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a
-war-whoop of applause and said it was "splendid!" and said if he had
-told them at first, they wouldn't have started away. He made a plausible
-excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret
-would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had
-meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction.
-
-The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will,
-chattering all the time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring the
-genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to
-learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to
-try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never
-smoked anything before but cigars made of grape-vine, and they "bit"
-the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway.
-
-Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff,
-charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant
-taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said:
-
-"Why, it's just as easy! If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learnt
-long ago."
-
-"So would I," said Joe. "It's just nothing."
-
-"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I
-wish I could do that; but I never thought I could," said Tom.
-
-"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk
-just that way--haven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't."
-
-"Yes--heaps of times," said Huck.
-
-"Well, I have too," said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the
-slaughter-house. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and
-Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember,
-Huck, 'bout me saying that?"
-
-"Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white
-alley. No, 'twas the day before."
-
-"There--I told you so," said Tom. "Huck recollects it."
-
-"I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day," said Joe. "I don't feel
-sick."
-
-"Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you
-Jeff Thatcher couldn't."
-
-"Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him
-try it once. HE'D see!"
-
-"I bet he would. And Johnny Miller--I wish could see Johnny Miller
-tackle it once."
-
-"Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any
-more do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch HIM."
-
-"'Deed it would, Joe. Say--I wish the boys could see us now."
-
-"So do I."
-
-"Say--boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're
-around, I'll come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.'
-And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll
-say, 'Yes, I got my OLD pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain't
-very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's STRONG
-enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as
-ca'm, and then just see 'em look!"
-
-"By jings, that'll be gay, Tom! I wish it was NOW!"
-
-"So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating,
-won't they wish they'd been along?"
-
-"Oh, I reckon not! I'll just BET they will!"
-
-So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and grow
-disjointed. The silences widened; the expectoration marvellously
-increased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spouting
-fountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues
-fast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down their
-throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings
-followed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable,
-now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom's followed.
-Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might
-and main. Joe said feebly:
-
-"I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it."
-
-Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance:
-
-"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the
-spring. No, you needn't come, Huck--we can find it."
-
-So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome,
-and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both
-very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they
-had had any trouble they had got rid of it.
-
-They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look,
-and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare
-theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well--something they
-ate at dinner had disagreed with them.
-
-About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding
-oppressiveness in the air that seemed to bode something. The boys
-huddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship of
-the fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere was
-stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush
-continued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up in
-the blackness of darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow that
-vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By and by
-another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came
-sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting
-breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit
-of the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned
-night into day and showed every little grass-blade, separate and
-distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white,
-startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling
-down the heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. A
-sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing the
-flaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the
-forest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the tree-tops
-right over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick
-gloom that followed. A few big rain-drops fell pattering upon the
-leaves.
-
-"Quick! boys, go for the tent!" exclaimed Tom.
-
-They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no
-two plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through the
-trees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash after
-another came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now a
-drenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheets
-along the ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring
-wind and the booming thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly.
-However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter under
-the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have company
-in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the
-old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have
-allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the
-sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast.
-The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and
-bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank.
-Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of
-lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in
-clean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy
-river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dim
-outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the
-drifting cloud-rack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while
-some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the younger
-growth; and the unflagging thunder-peals came now in ear-splitting
-explosive bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. The storm
-culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island
-to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, and
-deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was a
-wild night for homeless young heads to be out in.
-
-But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker
-and weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The
-boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was
-still something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the
-shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and
-they were not under it when the catastrophe happened.
-
-Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they were
-but heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision
-against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through
-and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently
-discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had
-been built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from
-the ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so
-they patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from the
-under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then
-they piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and
-were glad-hearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a
-feast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified
-their midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot to
-sleep on, anywhere around.
-
-As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them,
-and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got
-scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After
-the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little homesick once
-more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well as
-he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming,
-or anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray
-of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new device. This
-was to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a
-change. They were attracted by this idea; so it was not long before
-they were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like
-so many zebras--all of them chiefs, of course--and then they went
-tearing through the woods to attack an English settlement.
-
-By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon
-each other from ambush with dreadful war-whoops, and killed and scalped
-each other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was an
-extremely satisfactory one.
-
-They assembled in camp toward supper-time, hungry and happy; but now a
-difficulty arose--hostile Indians could not break the bread of
-hospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simple
-impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no other
-process that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished
-they had remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so with
-such show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipe
-and took their whiff as it passed, in due form.
-
-And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had
-gained something; they found that they could now smoke a little without
-having to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not get sick enough to
-be seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this high
-promise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, after
-supper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening.
-They were prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they would
-have been in the scalping and skinning of the Six Nations. We will
-leave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further use
-for them at present.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil
-Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being
-put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet
-possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all
-conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air,
-and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a
-burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and
-gradually gave them up.
-
-In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the
-deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found
-nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:
-
-"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got
-anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob.
-
-Presently she stopped, and said to herself:
-
-"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say
-that--I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'll
-never, never, never see him any more."
-
-This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling
-down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls--playmates of
-Tom's and Joe's--came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and
-talking in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time they
-saw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with
-awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!)--and each speaker
-pointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and
-then added something like "and I was a-standing just so--just as I am
-now, and as if you was him--I was as close as that--and he smiled, just
-this way--and then something seemed to go all over me, like--awful, you
-know--and I never thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now!"
-
-Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and
-many claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or
-less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided
-who DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them,
-the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and
-were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no
-other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the
-remembrance:
-
-"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once."
-
-But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that,
-and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loitered
-away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.
-
-When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell
-began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still
-Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush
-that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment
-in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But there
-was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses
-as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None
-could remember when the little church had been so full before. There
-was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly
-entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all
-in deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well,
-rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front
-pew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals by
-muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed.
-A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection
-and the Life."
-
-As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the
-graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that
-every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in
-remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always
-before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor
-boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the
-departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the
-people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes
-were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had
-seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The
-congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on,
-till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping
-mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way
-to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.
-
-There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment
-later the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes
-above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then
-another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one
-impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came
-marching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of
-drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in
-the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!
-
-Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored
-ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while
-poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what to
-do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and
-started to slink away, but Tom seized him and said:
-
-"Aunt Polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck."
-
-"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" And
-the loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thing
-capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before.
-
-Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise God
-from whom all blessings flow--SING!--and put your hearts in it!"
-
-And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and
-while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the
-envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was
-the proudest moment of his life.
-
-As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be
-willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that
-once more.
-
-Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day--according to Aunt Polly's
-varying moods--than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew
-which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-THAT was Tom's great secret--the scheme to return home with his
-brother pirates and attend their own funerals. They had paddled over to
-the Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or six
-miles below the village; they had slept in the woods at the edge of the
-town till nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes and
-alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among a
-chaos of invalided benches.
-
-At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to
-Tom, and very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount of
-talk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said:
-
-"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybody
-suffering 'most a week so you boys had a good time, but it is a pity
-you could be so hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come
-over on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give
-me a hint some way that you warn't dead, but only run off."
-
-"Yes, you could have done that, Tom," said Mary; "and I believe you
-would if you had thought of it."
-
-"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say,
-now, would you, if you'd thought of it?"
-
-"I--well, I don't know. 'Twould 'a' spoiled everything."
-
-"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much," said Aunt Polly, with a grieved
-tone that discomforted the boy. "It would have been something if you'd
-cared enough to THINK of it, even if you didn't DO it."
-
-"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm," pleaded Mary; "it's only Tom's
-giddy way--he is always in such a rush that he never thinks of
-anything."
-
-"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come and
-DONE it, too. Tom, you'll look back, some day, when it's too late, and
-wish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you so
-little."
-
-"Now, auntie, you know I do care for you," said Tom.
-
-"I'd know it better if you acted more like it."
-
-"I wish now I'd thought," said Tom, with a repentant tone; "but I
-dreamt about you, anyway. That's something, ain't it?"
-
-"It ain't much--a cat does that much--but it's better than nothing.
-What did you dream?"
-
-"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the
-bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him."
-
-"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take
-even that much trouble about us."
-
-"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here."
-
-"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?"
-
-"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now."
-
-"Well, try to recollect--can't you?"
-
-"Somehow it seems to me that the wind--the wind blowed the--the--"
-
-"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!"
-
-Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then
-said:
-
-"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!"
-
-"Mercy on us! Go on, Tom--go on!"
-
-"And it seems to me that you said, 'Why, I believe that that door--'"
-
-"Go ON, Tom!"
-
-"Just let me study a moment--just a moment. Oh, yes--you said you
-believed the door was open."
-
-"As I'm sitting here, I did! Didn't I, Mary! Go on!"
-
-"And then--and then--well I won't be certain, but it seems like as if
-you made Sid go and--and--"
-
-"Well? Well? What did I make him do, Tom? What did I make him do?"
-
-"You made him--you--Oh, you made him shut it."
-
-"Well, for the land's sake! I never heard the beat of that in all my
-days! Don't tell ME there ain't anything in dreams, any more. Sereny
-Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her
-get around THIS with her rubbage 'bout superstition. Go on, Tom!"
-
-"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said I
-warn't BAD, only mischeevous and harum-scarum, and not any more
-responsible than--than--I think it was a colt, or something."
-
-"And so it was! Well, goodness gracious! Go on, Tom!"
-
-"And then you began to cry."
-
-"So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. And then--"
-
-"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same,
-and she wished she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'd
-throwed it out her own self--"
-
-"Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was a prophesying--that's what you
-was doing! Land alive, go on, Tom!"
-
-"Then Sid he said--he said--"
-
-"I don't think I said anything," said Sid.
-
-"Yes you did, Sid," said Mary.
-
-"Shut your heads and let Tom go on! What did he say, Tom?"
-
-"He said--I THINK he said he hoped I was better off where I was gone
-to, but if I'd been better sometimes--"
-
-"THERE, d'you hear that! It was his very words!"
-
-"And you shut him up sharp."
-
-"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There WAS an angel
-there, somewheres!"
-
-"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and
-you told about Peter and the Painkiller--"
-
-"Just as true as I live!"
-
-"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for
-us, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss
-Harper hugged and cried, and she went."
-
-"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm a-sitting in
-these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a'
-seen it! And then what? Go on, Tom!"
-
-"Then I thought you prayed for me--and I could see you and hear every
-word you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took and
-wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead--we are only off
-being pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle; and then you
-looked so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leaned
-over and kissed you on the lips."
-
-"Did you, Tom, DID you! I just forgive you everything for that!" And
-she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like the
-guiltiest of villains.
-
-"It was very kind, even though it was only a--dream," Sid soliloquized
-just audibly.
-
-"Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he
-was awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if
-you was ever found again--now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the
-good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-suffering
-and merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though
-goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His
-blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's
-few enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long
-night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom--take yourselves off--you've
-hendered me long enough."
-
-The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper
-and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better
-judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the
-house. It was this: "Pretty thin--as long a dream as that, without any
-mistakes in it!"
-
-What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing,
-but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the
-public eye was on him. And indeed it was; he tried not to seem to see
-the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food
-and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as
-proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been the
-drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie
-into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away
-at all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would
-have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his
-glittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for a
-circus.
-
-At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered
-such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were not
-long in becoming insufferably "stuck-up." They began to tell their
-adventures to hungry listeners--but they only began; it was not a thing
-likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish
-material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely
-puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached.
-
-Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glory
-was sufficient. He would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished,
-maybe she would be wanting to "make up." Well, let her--she should see
-that he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she
-arrived. Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and joined a group
-of boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she was
-tripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes,
-pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughter
-when she made a capture; but he noticed that she always made her
-captures in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eye
-in his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the vicious
-vanity that was in him; and so, instead of winning him, it only "set
-him up" the more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying that
-he knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and moved
-irresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively and
-wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that now Tom was talking more
-particularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp
-pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, but
-her feet were treacherous, and carried her to the group instead. She
-said to a girl almost at Tom's elbow--with sham vivacity:
-
-"Why, Mary Austin! you bad girl, why didn't you come to Sunday-school?"
-
-"I did come--didn't you see me?"
-
-"Why, no! Did you? Where did you sit?"
-
-"I was in Miss Peters' class, where I always go. I saw YOU."
-
-"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you about
-the picnic."
-
-"Oh, that's jolly. Who's going to give it?"
-
-"My ma's going to let me have one."
-
-"Oh, goody; I hope she'll let ME come."
-
-"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that I
-want, and I want you."
-
-"That's ever so nice. When is it going to be?"
-
-"By and by. Maybe about vacation."
-
-"Oh, won't it be fun! You going to have all the girls and boys?"
-
-"Yes, every one that's friends to me--or wants to be"; and she glanced
-ever so furtively at Tom, but he talked right along to Amy Lawrence
-about the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore the
-great sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing within
-three feet of it."
-
-"Oh, may I come?" said Grace Miller.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"And me?" said Sally Rogers.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"And me, too?" said Susy Harper. "And Joe?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had begged
-for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, still
-talking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tears
-came to her eyes; she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went on
-chattering, but the life had gone out of the picnic, now, and out of
-everything else; she got away as soon as she could and hid herself and
-had what her sex call "a good cry." Then she sat moody, with wounded
-pride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive cast
-in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what
-SHE'D do.
-
-At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant
-self-satisfaction. And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerate
-her with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a sudden
-falling of his mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind
-the schoolhouse looking at a picture-book with Alfred Temple--and so
-absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book,
-that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides.
-Jealousy ran red-hot through Tom's veins. He began to hate himself for
-throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. He
-called himself a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. He
-wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along, as they walked,
-for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. He
-did not hear what Amy was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly he
-could only stammer an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced as
-otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again and
-again, to sear his eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He could
-not help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he saw, that
-Becky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of the
-living. But she did see, nevertheless; and she knew she was winning her
-fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had suffered.
-
-Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had to
-attend to; things that must be done; and time was fleeting. But in
-vain--the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever
-going to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those
-things--and she said artlessly that she would be "around" when school
-let out. And he hastened away, hating her for it.
-
-"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole
-town but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is
-aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw
-this town, mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catch
-you out! I'll just take and--"
-
-And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy
---pummelling the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You
-holler 'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so the
-imaginary flogging was finished to his satisfaction.
-
-Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more of
-Amy's grateful happiness, and his jealousy could bear no more of the
-other distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, but
-as the minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph
-began to cloud and she lost interest; gravity and absent-mindedness
-followed, and then melancholy; two or three times she pricked up her
-ear at a footstep, but it was a false hope; no Tom came. At last she
-grew entirely miserable and wished she hadn't carried it so far. When
-poor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, kept
-exclaiming: "Oh, here's a jolly one! look at this!" she lost patience
-at last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me! I don't care for them!" and
-burst into tears, and got up and walked away.
-
-Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to comfort her, but she
-said:
-
-"Go away and leave me alone, can't you! I hate you!"
-
-So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done--for she had said
-she would look at pictures all through the nooning--and she walked on,
-crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He was
-humiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truth--the girl
-had simply made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer.
-He was far from hating Tom the less when this thought occurred to him.
-He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without much
-risk to himself. Tom's spelling-book fell under his eye. Here was his
-opportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon and
-poured ink upon the page.
-
-Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act,
-and moved on, without discovering herself. She started homeward, now,
-intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be thankful and their
-troubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, she
-had changed her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when she
-was talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her with
-shame. She resolved to let him get whipped on the damaged
-spelling-book's account, and to hate him forever, into the bargain.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX
-
-TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt
-said to him showed him that he had brought his sorrows to an
-unpromising market:
-
-"Tom, I've a notion to skin you alive!"
-
-"Auntie, what have I done?"
-
-"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like an
-old softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe all that rubbage
-about that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe that
-you was over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, I
-don't know what is to become of a boy that will act like that. It makes
-me feel so bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and make
-such a fool of myself and never say a word."
-
-This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning had
-seemed to Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely looked
-mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anything
-to say for a moment. Then he said:
-
-"Auntie, I wish I hadn't done it--but I didn't think."
-
-"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your own
-selfishness. You could think to come all the way over here from
-Jackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you could
-think to fool me with a lie about a dream; but you couldn't ever think
-to pity us and save us from sorrow."
-
-"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. I
-didn't, honest. And besides, I didn't come over here to laugh at you
-that night."
-
-"What did you come for, then?"
-
-"It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, because we hadn't got
-drownded."
-
-"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I could
-believe you ever had as good a thought as that, but you know you never
-did--and I know it, Tom."
-
-"Indeed and 'deed I did, auntie--I wish I may never stir if I didn't."
-
-"Oh, Tom, don't lie--don't do it. It only makes things a hundred times
-worse."
-
-"It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from
-grieving--that was all that made me come."
-
-"I'd give the whole world to believe that--it would cover up a power
-of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it
-ain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?"
-
-"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got
-all full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and I
-couldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my
-pocket and kept mum."
-
-"What bark?"
-
-"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now,
-you'd waked up when I kissed you--I do, honest."
-
-The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness
-dawned in her eyes.
-
-"DID you kiss me, Tom?"
-
-"Why, yes, I did."
-
-"Are you sure you did, Tom?"
-
-"Why, yes, I did, auntie--certain sure."
-
-"What did you kiss me for, Tom?"
-
-"Because I loved you so, and you laid there moaning and I was so sorry."
-
-The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor in
-her voice when she said:
-
-"Kiss me again, Tom!--and be off with you to school, now, and don't
-bother me any more."
-
-The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of a
-jacket which Tom had gone pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in her
-hand, and said to herself:
-
-"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about it--but it's a
-blessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort come from it. I hope the
-Lord--I KNOW the Lord will forgive him, because it was such
-goodheartedness in him to tell it. But I don't want to find out it's a
-lie. I won't look."
-
-She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she put
-out her hand to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Once
-more she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with the
-thought: "It's a good lie--it's a good lie--I won't let it grieve me."
-So she sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom's
-piece of bark through flowing tears and saying: "I could forgive the
-boy, now, if he'd committed a million sins!"
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX
-
-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!"
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI
-
-VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grew
-severer and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make a
-good showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldom
-idle now--at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and
-young ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins'
-lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, under
-his wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middle
-age, and there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the great
-day approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; he
-seemed to take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the least
-shortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys spent their
-days in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. They
-threw away no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But he kept
-ahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengeful
-success was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired from
-the field badly worsted. At last they conspired together and hit upon a
-plan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the sign-painter's
-boy, told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasons
-for being delighted, for the master boarded in his father's family and
-had given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would go
-on a visit to the country in a few days, and there would be nothing to
-interfere with the plan; the master always prepared himself for great
-occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the sign-painter's boy
-said that when the dominie had reached the proper condition on
-Examination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he napped in his
-chair; then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurried
-away to school.
-
-In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight in
-the evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned with
-wreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned in
-his great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him.
-He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side and
-six rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the town
-and by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of
-citizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated the
-scholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows of
-small boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort;
-rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad in
-lawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, their
-grandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon and
-the flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled with
-non-participating scholars.
-
-The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishly
-recited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on the
-stage," etc.--accompanying himself with the painfully exact and
-spasmodic gestures which a machine might have used--supposing the
-machine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through safely, though
-cruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made his
-manufactured bow and retired.
-
-A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc.,
-performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, and
-sat down flushed and happy.
-
-Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into
-the unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death"
-speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the
-middle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked under
-him and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of the
-house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than
-its sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom
-struggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weak
-attempt at applause, but it died early.
-
-"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian Came
-Down," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises,
-and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The
-prime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions"
-by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge of
-the platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with
-dainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to
-"expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had been
-illuminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, their
-grandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female line
-clear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories of Other
-Days"; "Religion in History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages of
-Culture"; "Forms of Political Government Compared and Contrasted";
-"Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart Longings," etc., etc.
-
-A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and petted
-melancholy; another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language";
-another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized words
-and phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity that
-conspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerable
-sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one
-of them. No matter what the subject might be, a brain-racking effort
-was made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral and
-religious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaring
-insincerity of these sermons was not sufficient to compass the
-banishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficient
-to-day; it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps.
-There is no school in all our land where the young ladies do not feel
-obliged to close their compositions with a sermon; and you will find
-that the sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl in
-the school is always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. But
-enough of this. Homely truth is unpalatable.
-
-Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that was
-read was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader can
-endure an extract from it:
-
- "In the common walks of life, with what delightful
- emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some
- anticipated scene of festivity! Imagination is busy
- sketching rose-tinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the
- voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the
- festive throng, 'the observed of all observers.' Her
- graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling
- through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is
- brightest, her step is lightest in the gay assembly.
-
- "In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by,
- and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into
- the Elysian world, of which she has had such bright
- dreams. How fairy-like does everything appear to
- her enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming
- than the last. But after a while she finds that
- beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity, the
- flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates
- harshly upon her ear; the ball-room has lost its
- charms; and with wasted health and imbittered heart,
- she turns away with the conviction that earthly
- pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul!"
-
-And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time to
-time during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "How
-sweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc., and after the thing had closed
-with a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic.
-
-Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting"
-paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem." Two
-stanzas of it will do:
-
- "A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA
-
- "Alabama, good-bye! I love thee well!
- But yet for a while do I leave thee now!
- Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell,
- And burning recollections throng my brow!
- For I have wandered through thy flowery woods;
- Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream;
- Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods,
- And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam.
-
- "Yet shame I not to bear an o'er-full heart,
- Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes;
- 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part,
- 'Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs.
- Welcome and home were mine within this State,
- Whose vales I leave--whose spires fade fast from me
- And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete,
- When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee!"
-
-There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem was
-very satisfactory, nevertheless.
-
-Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, black-haired young
-lady, who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, and
-began to read in a measured, solemn tone:
-
- "A VISION
-
- "Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the
- throne on high not a single star quivered; but
- the deep intonations of the heavy thunder
- constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the
- terrific lightning revelled in angry mood
- through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming
- to scorn the power exerted over its terror by
- the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous
- winds unanimously came forth from their mystic
- homes, and blustered about as if to enhance by
- their aid the wildness of the scene.
-
- "At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human
- sympathy my very spirit sighed; but instead thereof,
-
- "'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter
- and guide--My joy in grief, my second bliss
- in joy,' came to my side. She moved like one of
- those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks
- of fancy's Eden by the romantic and young, a
- queen of beauty unadorned save by her own
- transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it
- failed to make even a sound, and but for the
- magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as
- other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided
- away un-perceived--unsought. A strange sadness
- rested upon her features, like icy tears upon
- the robe of December, as she pointed to the
- contending elements without, and bade me contemplate
- the two beings presented."
-
-This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up with
-a sermon so destructive of all hope to non-Presbyterians that it took
-the first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finest
-effort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering the
-prize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that it
-was by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that
-Daniel Webster himself might well be proud of it.
-
-It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in
-which the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experience
-referred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average.
-
-Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair
-aside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map of
-America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But he
-made a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered
-titter rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and set
-himself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he only
-distorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced.
-He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined not
-to be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened upon
-him; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it
-even manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a garret above,
-pierced with a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttle
-came a cat, suspended around the haunches by a string; she had a rag
-tied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she slowly
-descended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swung
-downward and clawed at the intangible air. The tittering rose higher
-and higher--the cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher's
-head--down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with her
-desperate claws, clung to it, and was snatched up into the garret in an
-instant with her trophy still in her possession! And how the light did
-blaze abroad from the master's bald pate--for the sign-painter's boy
-had GILDED it!
-
-That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come.
-
- NOTE:--The pretended "compositions" quoted in
- this chapter are taken without alteration from a
- volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a Western
- Lady"--but they are exactly and precisely after
- the schoolgirl pattern, and hence are much
- happier than any mere imitations could be.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII
-
-TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted by
-the showy character of their "regalia." He promised to abstain from
-smoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member. Now he
-found out a new thing--namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the
-surest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that very
-thing. Tom soon found himself tormented with a desire to drink and
-swear; the desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of a
-chance to display himself in his red sash kept him from withdrawing
-from the order. Fourth of July was coming; but he soon gave that up
---gave it up before he had worn his shackles over forty-eight hours--and
-fixed his hopes upon old Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who was
-apparently on his deathbed and would have a big public funeral, since
-he was so high an official. During three days Tom was deeply concerned
-about the Judge's condition and hungry for news of it. Sometimes his
-hopes ran high--so high that he would venture to get out his regalia
-and practise before the looking-glass. But the Judge had a most
-discouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was pronounced upon the
-mend--and then convalescent. Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense of
-injury, too. He handed in his resignation at once--and that night the
-Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom resolved that he would never
-trust a man like that again.
-
-The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculated
-to kill the late member with envy. Tom was a free boy again, however
---there was something in that. He could drink and swear, now--but found
-to his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he could,
-took the desire away, and the charm of it.
-
-Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginning
-to hang a little heavily on his hands.
-
-He attempted a diary--but nothing happened during three days, and so
-he abandoned it.
-
-The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made a
-sensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a band of performers and were
-happy for two days.
-
-Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rained
-hard, there was no procession in consequence, and the greatest man in
-the world (as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United States
-Senator, proved an overwhelming disappointment--for he was not
-twenty-five feet high, nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it.
-
-A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward in
-tents made of rag carpeting--admission, three pins for boys, two for
-girls--and then circusing was abandoned.
-
-A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came--and went again and left the
-village duller and drearier than ever.
-
-There were some boys-and-girls' parties, but they were so few and so
-delightful that they only made the aching voids between ache the harder.
-
-Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with her
-parents during vacation--so there was no bright side to life anywhere.
-
-The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a very
-cancer for permanency and pain.
-
-Then came the measles.
-
-During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its
-happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got
-upon his feet at last and moved feebly down-town, a melancholy change
-had come over everything and every creature. There had been a
-"revival," and everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but
-even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the
-sight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him
-everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly
-away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him
-visiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who
-called his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as a
-warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression;
-and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of
-Huckleberry Finn and was received with a Scriptural quotation, his
-heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all
-the town was lost, forever and forever.
-
-And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain,
-awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his
-head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his
-doom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was
-about him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers above
-to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might
-have seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a
-battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the
-getting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turf
-from under an insect like himself.
-
-By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its
-object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His
-second was to wait--for there might not be any more storms.
-
-The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks
-he spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad
-at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how
-lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted
-listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a
-juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her
-victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a
-stolen melon. Poor lads! they--like Tom--had suffered a relapse.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII
-
-AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred--and vigorously: the murder
-trial came on in the court. It became the absorbing topic of village
-talk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference to
-the murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience and
-fears almost persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in his
-hearing as "feelers"; he did not see how he could be suspected of
-knowing anything about the murder, but still he could not be
-comfortable in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiver
-all the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him.
-It would be some relief to unseal his tongue for a little while; to
-divide his burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, he
-wanted to assure himself that Huck had remained discreet.
-
-"Huck, have you ever told anybody about--that?"
-
-"'Bout what?"
-
-"You know what."
-
-"Oh--'course I haven't."
-
-"Never a word?"
-
-"Never a solitary word, so help me. What makes you ask?"
-
-"Well, I was afeard."
-
-"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out.
-YOU know that."
-
-Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause:
-
-"Huck, they couldn't anybody get you to tell, could they?"
-
-"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that half-breed devil to drownd me
-they could get me to tell. They ain't no different way."
-
-"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keep
-mum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's more surer."
-
-"I'm agreed."
-
-So they swore again with dread solemnities.
-
-"What is the talk around, Huck? I've heard a power of it."
-
-"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all the
-time. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I want to hide som'ers."
-
-"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner.
-Don't you feel sorry for him, sometimes?"
-
-"Most always--most always. He ain't no account; but then he hain't
-ever done anything to hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get money
-to get drunk on--and loafs around considerable; but lord, we all do
-that--leastways most of us--preachers and such like. But he's kind of
-good--he give me half a fish, once, when there warn't enough for two;
-and lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck."
-
-"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to my
-line. I wish we could get him out of there."
-
-"My! we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do any
-good; they'd ketch him again."
-
-"Yes--so they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like the
-dickens when he never done--that."
-
-"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest looking
-villain in this country, and they wonder he wasn't ever hung before."
-
-"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if he
-was to get free they'd lynch him."
-
-"And they'd do it, too."
-
-The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As the
-twilight drew on, they found themselves hanging about the neighborhood
-of the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope that
-something would happen that might clear away their difficulties. But
-nothing happened; there seemed to be no angels or fairies interested in
-this luckless captive.
-
-The boys did as they had often done before--went to the cell grating
-and gave Potter some tobacco and matches. He was on the ground floor
-and there were no guards.
-
-His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciences
-before--it cut deeper than ever, this time. They felt cowardly and
-treacherous to the last degree when Potter said:
-
-"You've been mighty good to me, boys--better'n anybody else in this
-town. And I don't forget it, I don't. Often I says to myself, says I,
-'I used to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where the
-good fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they've
-all forgot old Muff when he's in trouble; but Tom don't, and Huck
-don't--THEY don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them.' Well,
-boys, I done an awful thing--drunk and crazy at the time--that's the
-only way I account for it--and now I got to swing for it, and it's
-right. Right, and BEST, too, I reckon--hope so, anyway. Well, we won't
-talk about that. I don't want to make YOU feel bad; you've befriended
-me. But what I want to say, is, don't YOU ever get drunk--then you won't
-ever get here. Stand a litter furder west--so--that's it; it's a prime
-comfort to see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck of
-trouble, and there don't none come here but yourn. Good friendly
-faces--good friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let me
-touch 'em. That's it. Shake hands--yourn'll come through the bars, but
-mine's too big. Little hands, and weak--but they've helped Muff Potter
-a power, and they'd help him more if they could."
-
-Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of
-horrors. The next day and the day after, he hung about the court-room,
-drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself
-to stay out. Huck was having the same experience. They studiously
-avoided each other. Each wandered away, from time to time, but the same
-dismal fascination always brought them back presently. Tom kept his
-ears open when idlers sauntered out of the court-room, but invariably
-heard distressing news--the toils were closing more and more
-relentlessly around poor Potter. At the end of the second day the
-village talk was to the effect that Injun Joe's evidence stood firm and
-unshaken, and that there was not the slightest question as to what the
-jury's verdict would be.
-
-Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He
-was in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got to
-sleep. All the village flocked to the court-house the next morning, for
-this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented
-in the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and took
-their places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and
-hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all
-the curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous was Injun Joe,
-stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and
-the sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings
-among the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. These
-details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation
-that was as impressive as it was fascinating.
-
-Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potter
-washing in the brook, at an early hour of the morning that the murder
-was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After some
-further questioning, counsel for the prosecution said:
-
-"Take the witness."
-
-The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again when
-his own counsel said:
-
-"I have no questions to ask him."
-
-The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse.
-Counsel for the prosecution said:
-
-"Take the witness."
-
-"I have no questions to ask him," Potter's lawyer replied.
-
-A third witness swore he had often seen the knife in Potter's
-possession.
-
-"Take the witness."
-
-Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audience
-began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to throw away his
-client's life without an effort?
-
-Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior when
-brought to the scene of the murder. They were allowed to leave the
-stand without being cross-questioned.
-
-Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the
-graveyard upon that morning which all present remembered so well was
-brought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were cross-examined
-by Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house
-expressed itself in murmurs and provoked a reproof from the bench.
-Counsel for the prosecution now said:
-
-"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, we
-have fastened this awful crime, beyond all possibility of question,
-upon the unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here."
-
-A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands and
-rocked his body softly to and fro, while a painful silence reigned in
-the court-room. Many men were moved, and many women's compassion
-testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and said:
-
-"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we
-foreshadowed our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed
-while under the influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium
-produced by drink. We have changed our mind. We shall not offer that
-plea." [Then to the clerk:] "Call Thomas Sawyer!"
-
-A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even
-excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest
-upon Tom as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked
-wild enough, for he was badly scared. The oath was administered.
-
-"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the
-hour of midnight?"
-
-Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The
-audience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After a
-few moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and
-managed to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the house
-hear:
-
-"In the graveyard!"
-
-"A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were--"
-
-"In the graveyard."
-
-A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face.
-
-"Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"Speak up--just a trifle louder. How near were you?"
-
-"Near as I am to you."
-
-"Were you hidden, or not?"
-
-"I was hid."
-
-"Where?"
-
-"Behind the elms that's on the edge of the grave."
-
-Injun Joe gave a barely perceptible start.
-
-"Any one with you?"
-
-"Yes, sir. I went there with--"
-
-"Wait--wait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. We
-will produce him at the proper time. Did you carry anything there with
-you."
-
-Tom hesitated and looked confused.
-
-"Speak out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is always
-respectable. What did you take there?"
-
-"Only a--a--dead cat."
-
-There was a ripple of mirth, which the court checked.
-
-"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell us
-everything that occurred--tell it in your own way--don't skip anything,
-and don't be afraid."
-
-Tom began--hesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject his
-words flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound ceased
-but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips
-and bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of
-time, rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon
-pent emotion reached its climax when the boy said:
-
-"--and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell,
-Injun Joe jumped with the knife and--"
-
-Crash! Quick as lightning the half-breed sprang for a window, tore his
-way through all opposers, and was gone!
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV
-
-TOM was a glittering hero once more--the pet of the old, the envy of
-the young. His name even went into immortal print, for the village
-paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be
-President, yet, if he escaped hanging.
-
-As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom
-and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sort
-of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to find
-fault with it.
-
-Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights
-were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and always
-with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy to
-stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of
-wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer
-the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid
-that his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding
-Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court.
-The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of
-that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to the
-lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had been
-sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's
-confidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated.
-
-Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly
-he wished he had sealed up his tongue.
-
-Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the
-other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw
-a safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse.
-
-Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun
-Joe was found. One of those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a
-detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head,
-looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of
-that craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew." But you
-can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got
-through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before.
-
-The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened
-weight of apprehension.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV
-
-THERE comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy's life when he has
-a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This
-desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe
-Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone
-fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck
-would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to
-him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a
-hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no
-capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time
-which is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck.
-
-"Oh, most anywhere."
-
-"Why, is it hid all around?"
-
-"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck
---sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a
-limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but
-mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses."
-
-"Who hides it?"
-
-"Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? Sunday-school
-sup'rintendents?"
-
-"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and have
-a good time."
-
-"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and
-leave it there."
-
-"Don't they come after it any more?"
-
-"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or
-else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by
-and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the
-marks--a paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's
-mostly signs and hy'roglyphics."
-
-"Hyro--which?"
-
-"Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean
-anything."
-
-"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Well then, how you going to find the marks?"
-
-"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or
-on an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out.
-Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again
-some time; and there's the old ha'nted house up the Still-House branch,
-and there's lots of dead-limb trees--dead loads of 'em."
-
-"Is it under all of them?"
-
-"How you talk! No!"
-
-"Then how you going to know which one to go for?"
-
-"Go for all of 'em!"
-
-"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer."
-
-"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred
-dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds.
-How's that?"
-
-Huck's eyes glowed.
-
-"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred
-dollars and I don't want no di'monds."
-
-"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some
-of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there ain't any, hardly, but's
-worth six bits or a dollar."
-
-"No! Is that so?"
-
-"Cert'nly--anybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?"
-
-"Not as I remember."
-
-"Oh, kings have slathers of them."
-
-"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom."
-
-"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft
-of 'em hopping around."
-
-"Do they hop?"
-
-"Hop?--your granny! No!"
-
-"Well, what did you say they did, for?"
-
-"Shucks, I only meant you'd SEE 'em--not hopping, of course--what do
-they want to hop for?--but I mean you'd just see 'em--scattered around,
-you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard."
-
-"Richard? What's his other name?"
-
-"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name."
-
-"No?"
-
-"But they don't."
-
-"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a king
-and have only just a given name, like a nigger. But say--where you
-going to dig first?"
-
-"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the
-hill t'other side of Still-House branch?"
-
-"I'm agreed."
-
-So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their
-three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves
-down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke.
-
-"I like this," said Tom.
-
-"So do I."
-
-"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your
-share?"
-
-"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to
-every circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time."
-
-"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?"
-
-"Save it? What for?"
-
-"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by."
-
-"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some
-day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'd
-clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?"
-
-"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure-'nough sword, and a red
-necktie and a bull pup, and get married."
-
-"Married!"
-
-"That's it."
-
-"Tom, you--why, you ain't in your right mind."
-
-"Wait--you'll see."
-
-"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my
-mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty
-well."
-
-"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight."
-
-"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you
-better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the name
-of the gal?"
-
-"It ain't a gal at all--it's a girl."
-
-"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl--both's
-right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?"
-
-"I'll tell you some time--not now."
-
-"All right--that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer
-than ever."
-
-"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and
-we'll go to digging."
-
-They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled
-another half-hour. Still no result. Huck said:
-
-"Do they always bury it as deep as this?"
-
-"Sometimes--not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got the
-right place."
-
-So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little,
-but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some
-time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from
-his brow with his sleeve, and said:
-
-"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?"
-
-"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on
-Cardiff Hill back of the widow's."
-
-"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from
-us, Tom? It's on her land."
-
-"SHE take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one
-of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any difference
-whose land it's on."
-
-That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said:
-
-"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?"
-
-"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches
-interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now."
-
-"Shucks! Witches ain't got no power in the daytime."
-
-"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter
-is! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the
-shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!"
-
-"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now
-hang it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way.
-Can you get out?"
-
-"I bet I will. We've got to do it to-night, too, because if somebody
-sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll go
-for it."
-
-"Well, I'll come around and maow to-night."
-
-"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes."
-
-The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in
-the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by
-old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked
-in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the
-distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were
-subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged
-that twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to
-dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and
-their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened,
-but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon
-something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone
-or a chunk. At last Tom said:
-
-"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again."
-
-"Well, but we CAN'T be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot."
-
-"I know it, but then there's another thing."
-
-"What's that?".
-
-"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too
-early."
-
-Huck dropped his shovel.
-
-"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this
-one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of
-thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts
-a-fluttering around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time;
-and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in front
-a-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here."
-
-"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a
-dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it."
-
-"Lordy!"
-
-"Yes, they do. I've always heard that."
-
-"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A
-body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure."
-
-"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to
-stick his skull out and say something!"
-
-"Don't Tom! It's awful."
-
-"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit."
-
-"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else."
-
-"All right, I reckon we better."
-
-"What'll it be?"
-
-Tom considered awhile; and then said:
-
-"The ha'nted house. That's it!"
-
-"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight
-worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't come
-sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over your
-shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I
-couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom--nobody could."
-
-"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't
-hender us from digging there in the daytime."
-
-"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that
-ha'nted house in the day nor the night."
-
-"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been
-murdered, anyway--but nothing's ever been seen around that house except
-in the night--just some blue lights slipping by the windows--no regular
-ghosts."
-
-"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom,
-you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to
-reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em."
-
-"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so
-what's the use of our being afeard?"
-
-"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so--but I
-reckon it's taking chances."
-
-They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of
-the moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly
-isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very
-doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a
-corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to
-see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as
-befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the
-right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way
-homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff
-Hill.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI
-
-ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree; they had
-come for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted house;
-Huck was measurably so, also--but suddenly said:
-
-"Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?"
-
-Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly lifted
-his eyes with a startled look in them--
-
-"My! I never once thought of it, Huck!"
-
-"Well, I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it was
-Friday."
-
-"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into an
-awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday."
-
-"MIGHT! Better say we WOULD! There's some lucky days, maybe, but
-Friday ain't."
-
-"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon YOU was the first that found it
-out, Huck."
-
-"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I had
-a rotten bad dream last night--dreampt about rats."
-
-"No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that
-there's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mighty
-sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for to-day, and play.
-Do you know Robin Hood, Huck?"
-
-"No. Who's Robin Hood?"
-
-"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England--and the
-best. He was a robber."
-
-"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?"
-
-"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like.
-But he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up with
-'em perfectly square."
-
-"Well, he must 'a' been a brick."
-
-"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was.
-They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man in
-England, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew bow
-and plug a ten-cent piece every time, a mile and a half."
-
-"What's a YEW bow?"
-
-"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit that
-dime only on the edge he would set down and cry--and curse. But we'll
-play Robin Hood--it's nobby fun. I'll learn you."
-
-"I'm agreed."
-
-So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting a
-yearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark about the
-morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sink
-into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows of
-the trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of Cardiff
-Hill.
-
-On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again.
-They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little in
-their last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said there
-were so many cases where people had given up a treasure after getting
-down within six inches of it, and then somebody else had come along and
-turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed this
-time, however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feeling
-that they had not trifled with fortune, but had fulfilled all the
-requirements that belong to the business of treasure-hunting.
-
-When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and
-grisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun,
-and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the
-place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they
-crept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weed-grown,
-floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, a
-ruinous staircase; and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and
-abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickened
-pulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound,
-and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat.
-
-In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the
-place a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their own
-boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look up-stairs.
-This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring
-each other, and of course there could be but one result--they threw
-their tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the same
-signs of decay. In one corner they found a closet that promised
-mystery, but the promise was a fraud--there was nothing in it. Their
-courage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down and
-begin work when--
-
-"Sh!" said Tom.
-
-"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright.
-
-"Sh!... There!... Hear it?"
-
-"Yes!... Oh, my! Let's run!"
-
-"Keep still! Don't you budge! They're coming right toward the door."
-
-The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to
-knot-holes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear.
-
-"They've stopped.... No--coming.... Here they are. Don't whisper
-another word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this!"
-
-Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: "There's the old deaf and
-dumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice lately--never saw
-t'other man before."
-
-"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant
-in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy white
-whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he wore
-green goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice;
-they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their backs to the
-wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became less
-guarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded:
-
-"No," said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it. It's
-dangerous."
-
-"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard--to the vast
-surprise of the boys. "Milksop!"
-
-This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There was
-silence for some time. Then Joe said:
-
-"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonder--but nothing's come
-of it."
-
-"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about.
-'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we didn't succeed."
-
-"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytime!--anybody
-would suspicion us that saw us."
-
-"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that
-fool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only
-it warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys
-playing over there on the hill right in full view."
-
-"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of this
-remark, and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it was
-Friday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they
-had waited a year.
-
-The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long and
-thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said:
-
-"Look here, lad--you go back up the river where you belong. Wait there
-till you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into this town
-just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I've
-spied around a little and think things look well for it. Then for
-Texas! We'll leg it together!"
-
-This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and Injun
-Joe said:
-
-"I'm dead for sleep! It's your turn to watch."
-
-He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade
-stirred him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcher
-began to nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snore
-now.
-
-The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered:
-
-"Now's our chance--come!"
-
-Huck said:
-
-"I can't--I'd die if they was to wake."
-
-Tom urged--Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and
-started alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creak
-from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He
-never made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the dragging
-moments till it seemed to them that time must be done and eternity
-growing gray; and then they were grateful to note that at last the sun
-was setting.
-
-Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around--smiled grimly
-upon his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his knees--stirred him
-up with his foot and said:
-
-"Here! YOU'RE a watchman, ain't you! All right, though--nothing's
-happened."
-
-"My! have I been asleep?"
-
-"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll we
-do with what little swag we've got left?"
-
-"I don't know--leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use to
-take it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in silver's
-something to carry."
-
-"Well--all right--it won't matter to come here once more."
-
-"No--but I'd say come in the night as we used to do--it's better."
-
-"Yes: but look here; it may be a good while before I get the right
-chance at that job; accidents might happen; 'tain't in such a very good
-place; we'll just regularly bury it--and bury it deep."
-
-"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down,
-raised one of the rearward hearth-stones and took out a bag that
-jingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars for
-himself and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter,
-who was on his knees in the corner, now, digging with his bowie-knife.
-
-The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant.
-With gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luck!--the splendor of
-it was beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough to
-make half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasure-hunting under the
-happiest auspices--there would not be any bothersome uncertainty as to
-where to dig. They nudged each other every moment--eloquent nudges and
-easily understood, for they simply meant--"Oh, but ain't you glad NOW
-we're here!"
-
-Joe's knife struck upon something.
-
-"Hello!" said he.
-
-"What is it?" said his comrade.
-
-"Half-rotten plank--no, it's a box, I believe. Here--bear a hand and
-we'll see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole."
-
-He reached his hand in and drew it out--
-
-"Man, it's money!"
-
-The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boys
-above were as excited as themselves, and as delighted.
-
-Joe's comrade said:
-
-"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongst
-the weeds in the corner the other side of the fireplace--I saw it a
-minute ago."
-
-He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the pick,
-looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something to
-himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It was
-not very large; it was iron bound and had been very strong before the
-slow years had injured it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile in
-blissful silence.
-
-"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here," said Injun Joe.
-
-"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one
-summer," the stranger observed.
-
-"I know it," said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say."
-
-"Now you won't need to do that job."
-
-The half-breed frowned. Said he:
-
-"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't
-robbery altogether--it's REVENGE!" and a wicked light flamed in his
-eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished--then Texas. Go
-home to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me."
-
-"Well--if you say so; what'll we do with this--bury it again?"
-
-"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] NO! by the great Sachem, no!
-[Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had fresh
-earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What
-business has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth
-on them? Who brought them here--and where are they gone? Have you heard
-anybody?--seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come and
-see the ground disturbed? Not exactly--not exactly. We'll take it to my
-den."
-
-"Why, of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean Number
-One?"
-
-"No--Number Two--under the cross. The other place is bad--too common."
-
-"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start."
-
-Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously
-peeping out. Presently he said:
-
-"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can be
-up-stairs?"
-
-The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife,
-halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the stairway. The
-boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps came
-creaking up the stairs--the intolerable distress of the situation woke
-the stricken resolution of the lads--they were about to spring for the
-closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landed
-on the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gathered
-himself up cursing, and his comrade said:
-
-"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up
-there, let them STAY there--who cares? If they want to jump down, now,
-and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes
---and then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my
-opinion, whoever hove those things in here caught a sight of us and
-took us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're running
-yet."
-
-Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his friend that what daylight
-was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving.
-Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening
-twilight, and moved toward the river with their precious box.
-
-Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them
-through the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they.
-They were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and take
-the townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were too
-much absorbed in hating themselves--hating the ill luck that made them
-take the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never would
-have suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to wait
-there till his "revenge" was satisfied, and then he would have had the
-misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that
-the tools were ever brought there!
-
-They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come
-to town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow him
-to "Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought
-occurred to Tom.
-
-"Revenge? What if he means US, Huck!"
-
-"Oh, don't!" said Huck, nearly fainting.
-
-They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to
-believe that he might possibly mean somebody else--at least that he
-might at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified.
-
-Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Company
-would be a palpable improvement, he thought.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII
-
-THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night.
-Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times it
-wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and
-wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay
-in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he
-noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away--somewhat as if
-they had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it
-occurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a dream! There
-was one very strong argument in favor of this idea--namely, that the
-quantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen
-as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boys
-of his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all references
-to "hundreds" and "thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, and
-that no such sums really existed in the world. He never had supposed
-for a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found
-in actual money in any one's possession. If his notions of hidden
-treasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of a
-handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable
-dollars.
-
-But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer
-under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found
-himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a
-dream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch
-a hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on the
-gunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water and
-looking very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the
-subject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to
-have been only a dream.
-
-"Hello, Huck!"
-
-"Hello, yourself."
-
-Silence, for a minute.
-
-"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got
-the money. Oh, ain't it awful!"
-
-"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was.
-Dog'd if I don't, Huck."
-
-"What ain't a dream?"
-
-"Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was."
-
-"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream
-it was! I've had dreams enough all night--with that patch-eyed Spanish
-devil going for me all through 'em--rot him!"
-
-"No, not rot him. FIND him! Track the money!"
-
-"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for
-such a pile--and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see
-him, anyway."
-
-"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway--and track him out--to
-his Number Two."
-
-"Number Two--yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't
-make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?"
-
-"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck--maybe it's the number of a house!"
-
-"Goody!... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this
-one-horse town. They ain't no numbers here."
-
-"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here--it's the number of a
-room--in a tavern, you know!"
-
-"Oh, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find out
-quick."
-
-"You stay here, Huck, till I come."
-
-Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in public
-places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best tavern, No.
-2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied.
-In the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. The
-tavern-keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time, and he
-never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night; he did
-not know any particular reason for this state of things; had had some
-little curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most of the
-mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was
-"ha'nted"; had noticed that there was a light in there the night before.
-
-"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. 2
-we're after."
-
-"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?"
-
-"Lemme think."
-
-Tom thought a long time. Then he said:
-
-"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes out
-into that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trap
-of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the door-keys you can find,
-and I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there
-and try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he
-said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a
-chance to get his revenge. If you see him, you just follow him; and if
-he don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place."
-
-"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself!"
-
-"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you--and if he did,
-maybe he'd never think anything."
-
-"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I dono--I dono.
-I'll try."
-
-"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' found
-out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money."
-
-"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!"
-
-"Now you're TALKING! Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't."
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII
-
-THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung
-about the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching the
-alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the
-alley or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the
-tavern door. The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went home with
-the understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on,
-Huck was to come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the
-keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and
-retired to bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve.
-
-Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday
-night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt's
-old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid the
-lantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour before
-midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones
-thereabouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had
-entered or left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of
-darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by
-occasional mutterings of distant thunder.
-
-Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the
-towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern.
-Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was a
-season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a
-mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the lantern--it
-would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive
-yet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have
-fainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst under terror and
-excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer and
-closer to the alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and
-momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take away
-his breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able to
-inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out, the
-way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom came
-tearing by him: "Run!" said he; "run, for your life!"
-
-He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirty
-or forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys
-never stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughter-house
-at the lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter
-the storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his breath
-he said:
-
-"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could;
-but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I couldn't hardly
-get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either.
-Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, and
-open comes the door! It warn't locked! I hopped in, and shook off the
-towel, and, GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!"
-
-"What!--what'd you see, Tom?"
-
-"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand!"
-
-"No!"
-
-"Yes! He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old
-patch on his eye and his arms spread out."
-
-"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?"
-
-"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and
-started!"
-
-"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet!"
-
-"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it."
-
-"Say, Tom, did you see that box?"
-
-"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn't
-see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup on the
-floor by Injun Joe; yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in the
-room. Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that ha'nted room?"
-
-"How?"
-
-"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey! Maybe ALL the Temperance Taverns have
-got a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?"
-
-"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? But
-say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun Joe's
-drunk."
-
-"It is, that! You try it!"
-
-Huck shuddered.
-
-"Well, no--I reckon not."
-
-"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain't
-enough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do it."
-
-There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said:
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know Injun
-Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now, if we watch every night, we'll
-be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'll
-snatch that box quicker'n lightning."
-
-"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it
-every night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job."
-
-"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street a
-block and maow--and if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the window
-and that'll fetch me."
-
-"Agreed, and good as wheat!"
-
-"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be
-daylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, will
-you?"
-
-"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night
-for a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night."
-
-"That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?"
-
-"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man,
-Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and
-any time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he can
-spare it. That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don't
-ever act as if I was above him. Sometime I've set right down and eat
-WITH him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when
-he's awful hungry he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing."
-
-"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won't
-come bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the night,
-just skip right around and maow."
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX
-
-THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news
---Judge Thatcher's family had come back to town the night before. Both
-Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment,
-and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her and
-they had an exhausting good time playing "hi-spy" and "gully-keeper"
-with a crowd of their school-mates. The day was completed and crowned
-in a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appoint
-the next day for the long-promised and long-delayed picnic, and she
-consented. The child's delight was boundless; and Tom's not more
-moderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway
-the young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparation
-and pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keep
-awake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's
-"maow," and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickers
-with, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night.
-
-Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy and
-rollicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher's, and everything
-was ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar
-the picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe
-enough under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a few
-young gentlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old steam ferryboat
-was chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up the
-main street laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had to miss
-the fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs.
-Thatcher said to Becky, was:
-
-"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night
-with some of the girls that live near the ferry-landing, child."
-
-"Then I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma."
-
-"Very well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble."
-
-Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky:
-
-"Say--I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's
-we'll climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'll
-have ice-cream! She has it most every day--dead loads of it. And she'll
-be awful glad to have us."
-
-"Oh, that will be fun!"
-
-Then Becky reflected a moment and said:
-
-"But what will mamma say?"
-
-"How'll she ever know?"
-
-The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly:
-
-"I reckon it's wrong--but--"
-
-"But shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she
-wants is that you'll be safe; and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there if
-she'd 'a' thought of it. I know she would!"
-
-The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and
-Tom's persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to say
-nothing anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to
-Tom that maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The
-thought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still he
-could not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he
-give it up, he reasoned--the signal did not come the night before, so
-why should it be any more likely to come to-night? The sure fun of the
-evening outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boy-like, he determined
-to yield to the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of
-the box of money another time that day.
-
-Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody
-hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest
-distances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and
-laughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gone
-through with, and by-and-by the rovers straggled back to camp fortified
-with responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good things
-began. After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chat
-in the shade of spreading oaks. By-and-by somebody shouted:
-
-"Who's ready for the cave?"
-
-Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there
-was a general scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the
-hillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door
-stood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an ice-house, and
-walled by Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat.
-It was romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look
-out upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of
-the situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment
-a candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a
-struggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon
-knocked down or blown out, and then there was a glad clamor of laughter
-and a new chase. But all things have an end. By-and-by the procession
-went filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickering
-rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to their
-point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not more
-than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still
-narrower crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cave
-was but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and
-out again and led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and
-nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and
-never find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and down,
-and still down, into the earth, and it was just the same--labyrinth
-under labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the cave.
-That was an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion of
-it, and it was not customary to venture much beyond this known portion.
-Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one.
-
-The procession moved along the main avenue some three-quarters of a
-mile, and then groups and couples began to slip aside into branch
-avenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other by
-surprise at points where the corridors joined again. Parties were able
-to elude each other for the space of half an hour without going beyond
-the "known" ground.
-
-By-and-by, one group after another came straggling back to the mouth
-of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallow
-drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of
-the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking no
-note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell had
-been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's
-adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat
-with her wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for
-the wasted time but the captain of the craft.
-
-Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights went
-glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the young
-people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly
-tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop
-at the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put his
-attention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten
-o'clock came, and the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began
-to wink out, all straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the village
-betook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the
-silence and the ghosts. Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were
-put out; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long
-time, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use?
-Was there really any use? Why not give it up and turn in?
-
-A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The
-alley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store.
-The next moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have
-something under his arm. It must be that box! So they were going to
-remove the treasure. Why call Tom now? It would be absurd--the men
-would get away with the box and never be found again. No, he would
-stick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the darkness for
-security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped out
-and glided along behind the men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowing
-them to keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible.
-
-They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left
-up a cross-street. They went straight ahead, then, until they came to
-the path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by the
-old Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without hesitating, and
-still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the old
-quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the
-summit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach
-bushes, and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and
-shortened his distance, now, for they would never be able to see him.
-He trotted along awhile; then slackened his pace, fearing he was
-gaining too fast; moved on a piece, then stopped altogether; listened;
-no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the beating of his own
-heart. The hooting of an owl came over the hill--ominous sound! But no
-footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring with
-winged feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet from him!
-Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he swallowed it again; and then
-he stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at
-once, and so weak that he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He
-knew where he was. He knew he was within five steps of the stile
-leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let them
-bury it there; it won't be hard to find.
-
-Now there was a voice--a very low voice--Injun Joe's:
-
-"Damn her, maybe she's got company--there's lights, late as it is."
-
-"I can't see any."
-
-This was that stranger's voice--the stranger of the haunted house. A
-deadly chill went to Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job!
-His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had
-been kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to
-murder her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but he knew he
-didn't dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all this and
-more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun
-Joe's next--which was--
-
-"Because the bush is in your way. Now--this way--now you see, don't
-you?"
-
-"Yes. Well, there IS company there, I reckon. Better give it up."
-
-"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up and
-maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you
-before, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband was
-rough on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was the
-justice of the peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all.
-It ain't a millionth part of it! He had me HORSEWHIPPED!--horsewhipped
-in front of the jail, like a nigger!--with all the town looking on!
-HORSEWHIPPED!--do you understand? He took advantage of me and died. But
-I'll take it out of HER."
-
-"Oh, don't kill her! Don't do that!"
-
-"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he was
-here; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't
-kill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notch
-her ears like a sow!"
-
-"By God, that's--"
-
-"Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tie
-her to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry,
-if she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thing--for MY sake
---that's why you're here--I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll
-kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill
-her--and then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this
-business."
-
-"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the
-better--I'm all in a shiver."
-
-"Do it NOW? And company there? Look here--I'll get suspicious of you,
-first thing you know. No--we'll wait till the lights are out--there's
-no hurry."
-
-Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awful
-than any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped
-gingerly back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing,
-one-legged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one
-side and then on the other. He took another step back, with the same
-elaboration and the same risks; then another and another, and--a twig
-snapped under his foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There was
-no sound--the stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Now
-he turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes--turned
-himself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then stepped quickly but
-cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and so
-he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he
-reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads
-of the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows.
-
-"What's the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?"
-
-"Let me in--quick! I'll tell everything."
-
-"Why, who are you?"
-
-"Huckleberry Finn--quick, let me in!"
-
-"Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, I
-judge! But let him in, lads, and let's see what's the trouble."
-
-"Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he
-got in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, sure--but the widow's been good
-friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I WILL tell if you'll
-promise you won't ever say it was me."
-
-"By George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!"
-exclaimed the old man; "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell, lad."
-
-Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the
-hill, and just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in
-their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great
-bowlder and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence,
-and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry.
-
-Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill
-as fast as his legs could carry him.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXX
-
-AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck
-came groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door.
-The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a
-hair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call
-came from a window:
-
-"Who's there!"
-
-Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone:
-
-"Please let me in! It's only Huck Finn!"
-
-"It's a name that can open this door night or day, lad!--and welcome!"
-
-These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the
-pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closing
-word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly
-unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his
-brace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves.
-
-"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be
-ready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too
---make yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and
-stop here last night."
-
-"I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the
-pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuz
-I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz I
-didn't want to run across them devils, even if they was dead."
-
-"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it--but
-there's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they
-ain't dead, lad--we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right
-where to put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept along
-on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellar
-that sumach path was--and just then I found I was going to sneeze. It
-was the meanest kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use
---'twas bound to come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my pistol
-raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling to get
-out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place
-where the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy,
-those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge we
-never touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their
-bullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the
-sound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the
-constables. They got a posse together, and went off to guard the river
-bank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going to
-beat up the woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we had
-some sort of description of those rascals--'twould help a good deal.
-But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?"
-
-"Oh yes; I saw them down-town and follered them."
-
-"Splendid! Describe them--describe them, my boy!"
-
-"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or
-twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--"
-
-"That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods
-back of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys,
-and tell the sheriff--get your breakfast to-morrow morning!"
-
-The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room
-Huck sprang up and exclaimed:
-
-"Oh, please don't tell ANYbody it was me that blowed on them! Oh,
-please!"
-
-"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of
-what you did."
-
-"Oh no, no! Please don't tell!"
-
-When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said:
-
-"They won't tell--and I won't. But why don't you want it known?"
-
-Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too
-much about one of those men and would not have the man know that he
-knew anything against him for the whole world--he would be killed for
-knowing it, sure.
-
-The old man promised secrecy once more, and said:
-
-"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking
-suspicious?"
-
-Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said:
-
-"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot,--least everybody says so,
-and I don't see nothing agin it--and sometimes I can't sleep much, on
-account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way
-of doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I
-come along up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I
-got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed
-up agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes
-these two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their
-arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was a-smoking, and t'other one
-wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up
-their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard,
-by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a
-rusty, ragged-looking devil."
-
-"Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?"
-
-This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said:
-
-"Well, I don't know--but somehow it seems as if I did."
-
-"Then they went on, and you--"
-
-"Follered 'em--yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up--they
-sneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in the
-dark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard
-swear he'd spile her looks just as I told you and your two--"
-
-"What! The DEAF AND DUMB man said all that!"
-
-Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep
-the old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might
-be, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in
-spite of all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his
-scrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder after
-blunder. Presently the Welshman said:
-
-"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head
-for all the world. No--I'd protect you--I'd protect you. This Spaniard
-is not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; you
-can't cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that
-you want to keep dark. Now trust me--tell me what it is, and trust me
---I won't betray you."
-
-Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over
-and whispered in his ear:
-
-"'Tain't a Spaniard--it's Injun Joe!"
-
-The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said:
-
-"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and
-slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because
-white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a
-different matter altogether."
-
-During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man
-said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going
-to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for
-marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of--
-
-"Of WHAT?"
-
-If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more
-stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring
-wide, now, and his breath suspended--waiting for the answer. The
-Welshman started--stared in return--three seconds--five seconds--ten
---then replied:
-
-"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the MATTER with you?"
-
-Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The
-Welshman eyed him gravely, curiously--and presently said:
-
-"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But
-what did give you that turn? What were YOU expecting we'd found?"
-
-Huck was in a close place--the inquiring eye was upon him--he would
-have given anything for material for a plausible answer--nothing
-suggested itself--the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper--a
-senseless reply offered--there was no time to weigh it, so at a venture
-he uttered it--feebly:
-
-"Sunday-school books, maybe."
-
-Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud
-and joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot,
-and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket,
-because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added:
-
-"Poor old chap, you're white and jaded--you ain't well a bit--no
-wonder you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll come
-out of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope."
-
-Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such
-a suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcel
-brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the
-talk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure,
-however--he had not known that it wasn't--and so the suggestion of a
-captured bundle was too much for his self-possession. But on the whole
-he felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond
-all question that that bundle was not THE bundle, and so his mind was
-at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be
-drifting just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be still
-in No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and Tom
-could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of
-interruption.
-
-Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck
-jumped for a hiding-place, for he had no mind to be connected even
-remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and
-gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of
-citizens were climbing up the hill--to stare at the stile. So the news
-had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the
-visitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken.
-
-"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more
-beholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allow
-me to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him."
-
-Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled
-the main matter--but the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals of
-his visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he
-refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the
-widow said:
-
-"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that
-noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?"
-
-"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come
-again--they hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use of
-waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guard
-at your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back."
-
-More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a
-couple of hours more.
-
-There was no Sabbath-school during day-school vacation, but everybody
-was early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News came
-that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the
-sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs.
-Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said:
-
-"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be
-tired to death."
-
-"Your Becky?"
-
-"Yes," with a startled look--"didn't she stay with you last night?"
-
-"Why, no."
-
-Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly,
-talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said:
-
-"Good-morning, Mrs. Thatcher. Good-morning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a
-boy that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last
-night--one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got to
-settle with him."
-
-Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever.
-
-"He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy.
-A marked anxiety came into Aunt Polly's face.
-
-"Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?"
-
-"No'm."
-
-"When did you see him last?"
-
-Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had
-stopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a boding
-uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were
-anxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not
-noticed whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on the
-homeward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one was
-missing. One young man finally blurted out his fear that they were
-still in the cave! Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell to
-crying and wringing her hands.
-
-The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to
-street, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and the
-whole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant
-insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled,
-skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horror
-was half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and
-river toward the cave.
-
-All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women
-visited Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They
-cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the
-tedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned at
-last, all the word that came was, "Send more candles--and send food."
-Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatcher
-sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they
-conveyed no real cheer.
-
-The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with
-candle-grease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huck
-still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with
-fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came
-and took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him,
-because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's,
-and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The
-Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said:
-
-"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off.
-He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his
-hands."
-
-Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the
-village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the
-news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were
-being ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner
-and crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever one
-wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting
-hither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots sent
-their hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one
-place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names
-"BECKY & TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with
-candle-smoke, and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs.
-Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the
-last relic she should ever have of her child; and that no other memorial
-of her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest from
-the living body before the awful death came. Some said that now and
-then, in the cave, a far-away speck of light would glimmer, and then a
-glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping down the
-echoing aisle--and then a sickening disappointment always followed; the
-children were not there; it was only a searcher's light.
-
-Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and
-the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything.
-The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the
-Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the
-public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck
-feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked--dimly
-dreading the worst--if anything had been discovered at the Temperance
-Tavern since he had been ill.
-
-"Yes," said the widow.
-
-Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed:
-
-"What? What was it?"
-
-"Liquor!--and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child--what a turn
-you did give me!"
-
-"Only tell me just one thing--only just one--please! Was it Tom Sawyer
-that found it?"
-
-The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told you
-before, you must NOT talk. You are very, very sick!"
-
-Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great
-powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever--gone
-forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should
-cry.
-
-These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the
-weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself:
-
-"There--he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebody
-could find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hope
-enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching."
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXI
-
-NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They tripped
-along the murky aisles with the rest of the company, visiting the
-familiar wonders of the cave--wonders dubbed with rather
-over-descriptive names, such as "The Drawing-Room," "The Cathedral,"
-"Aladdin's Palace," and so on. Presently the hide-and-seek frolicking
-began, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal until the exertion
-began to grow a trifle wearisome; then they wandered down a sinuous
-avenue holding their candles aloft and reading the tangled web-work of
-names, dates, post-office addresses, and mottoes with which the rocky
-walls had been frescoed (in candle-smoke). Still drifting along and
-talking, they scarcely noticed that they were now in a part of the cave
-whose walls were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under an
-overhanging shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a place where a
-little stream of water, trickling over a ledge and carrying a limestone
-sediment with it, had, in the slow-dragging ages, formed a laced and
-ruffled Niagara in gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed his
-small body behind it in order to illuminate it for Becky's
-gratification. He found that it curtained a sort of steep natural
-stairway which was enclosed between narrow walls, and at once the
-ambition to be a discoverer seized him. Becky responded to his call,
-and they made a smoke-mark for future guidance, and started upon their
-quest. They wound this way and that, far down into the secret depths of
-the cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties to
-tell the upper world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern,
-from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining stalactites of the
-length and circumference of a man's leg; they walked all about it,
-wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one of the numerous
-passages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a bewitching
-spring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glittering
-crystals; it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls were supported by
-many fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of great
-stalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaseless
-water-drip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats had packed
-themselves together, thousands in a bunch; the lights disturbed the
-creatures and they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking and
-darting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways and the danger of
-this sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into the
-first corridor that offered; and none too soon, for a bat struck
-Becky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of the
-cavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the fugitives
-plunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got rid of the
-perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, which
-stretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows.
-He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would be best
-to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deep
-stillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of the
-children. Becky said:
-
-"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any of
-the others."
-
-"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them--and I don't know
-how far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn't
-hear them here."
-
-Becky grew apprehensive.
-
-"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back."
-
-"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better."
-
-"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixed-up crookedness to me."
-
-"I reckon I could find it--but then the bats. If they put our candles
-out it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to go
-through there."
-
-"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and the
-girl shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities.
-
-They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long
-way, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anything
-familiar about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every time
-Tom made an examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging
-sign, and he would say cheerily:
-
-"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it right
-away!"
-
-But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently
-began to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperate
-hope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "all
-right," but there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words
-had lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost!"
-Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep
-back the tears, but they would come. At last she said:
-
-"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to get
-worse and worse off all the time."
-
-"Listen!" said he.
-
-Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were
-conspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down the
-empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that
-resembled a ripple of mocking laughter.
-
-"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid," said Becky.
-
-"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know," and
-he shouted again.
-
-The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it
-so confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened;
-but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and
-hurried his steps. It was but a little while before a certain
-indecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to Becky--he
-could not find his way back!
-
-"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks!"
-
-"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might want
-to come back! No--I can't find the way. It's all mixed up."
-
-"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awful
-place! Oh, why DID we ever leave the others!"
-
-She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom
-was appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He
-sat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in his
-bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing
-regrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tom
-begged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell
-to blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable
-situation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hope
-again, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he
-would not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame than
-she, she said.
-
-So they moved on again--aimlessly--simply at random--all they could do
-was to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show of
-reviving--not with any reason to back it, but only because it is its
-nature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age
-and familiarity with failure.
-
-By-and-by Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meant
-so much! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope died
-again. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces in
-his pockets--yet he must economize.
-
-By-and-by, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried to
-pay attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when time
-was grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in any
-direction, was at least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit down
-was to invite death and shorten its pursuit.
-
-At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She sat
-down. Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friends
-there, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried,
-and Tom tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all his
-encouragements were grown threadbare with use, and sounded like
-sarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off to
-sleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking into her drawn face and saw it
-grow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant dreams; and
-by-and-by a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflected
-somewhat of peace and healing into his own spirit, and his thoughts
-wandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he was deep in
-his musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laugh--but it was
-stricken dead upon her lips, and a groan followed it.
-
-"Oh, how COULD I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, I
-don't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say it again."
-
-"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll find
-the way out."
-
-"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream.
-I reckon we are going there."
-
-"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying."
-
-They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They tried
-to estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew was
-that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could not
-be, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this--they
-could not tell how long--Tom said they must go softly and listen for
-dripping water--they must find a spring. They found one presently, and
-Tom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky
-said she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised to
-hear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tom
-fastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay.
-Thought was soon busy; nothing was said for some time. Then Becky broke
-the silence:
-
-"Tom, I am so hungry!"
-
-Tom took something out of his pocket.
-
-"Do you remember this?" said he.
-
-Becky almost smiled.
-
-"It's our wedding-cake, Tom."
-
-"Yes--I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got."
-
-"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grown-up
-people do with wedding-cake--but it'll be our--"
-
-She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky
-ate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was
-abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. By-and-by Becky
-suggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he
-said:
-
-"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?"
-
-Becky's face paled, but she thought she could.
-
-"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink.
-That little piece is our last candle!"
-
-Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could to
-comfort her, but with little effect. At length Becky said:
-
-"Tom!"
-
-"Well, Becky?"
-
-"They'll miss us and hunt for us!"
-
-"Yes, they will! Certainly they will!"
-
-"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom."
-
-"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are."
-
-"When would they miss us, Tom?"
-
-"When they get back to the boat, I reckon."
-
-"Tom, it might be dark then--would they notice we hadn't come?"
-
-"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they
-got home."
-
-A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw
-that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night!
-The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of
-grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers
-also--that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher
-discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's.
-
-The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched
-it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand
-alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin
-column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then--the horror of
-utter darkness reigned!
-
-How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that
-she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knew
-was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of
-a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom said
-it might be Sunday, now--maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk,
-but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said
-that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was
-going on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it;
-but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he
-tried it no more.
-
-The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again.
-A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it.
-But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only
-whetted desire.
-
-By-and-by Tom said:
-
-"SH! Did you hear that?"
-
-Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like the
-faintest, far-off shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Becky
-by the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction.
-Presently he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparently
-a little nearer.
-
-"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky--we're all
-right now!"
-
-The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed was
-slow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to be
-guarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might be
-three feet deep, it might be a hundred--there was no passing it at any
-rate. Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could.
-No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. They
-listened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! a
-moment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heart-sinking
-misery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He
-talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and no
-sounds came again.
-
-The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary time
-dragged on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tom
-believed it must be Tuesday by this time.
-
-Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. It
-would be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of the
-heavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it to
-a projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the
-line as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor ended
-in a "jumping-off place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, and
-then as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands
-conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to the
-right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding
-a candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout,
-and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to--Injun
-Joe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratified
-the next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get
-himself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized his
-voice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But the
-echoes must have disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, he
-reasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said to
-himself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring he
-would stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk of
-meeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it was
-he had seen. He told her he had only shouted "for luck."
-
-But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run.
-Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep brought
-changes. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believed
-that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now,
-and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore another
-passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. But
-Becky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be
-roused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die--it would
-not be long. She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if he
-chose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speak
-to her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, he
-would stay by her and hold her hand until all was over.
-
-Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a
-show of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from the
-cave; then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down one
-of the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick
-with bodings of coming doom.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXII
-
-TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St.
-Petersburg still mourned. The lost children had not been found. Public
-prayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a private
-prayer that had the petitioner's whole heart in it; but still no good
-news came from the cave. The majority of the searchers had given up the
-quest and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plain
-the children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and a
-great part of the time delirious. People said it was heartbreaking to
-hear her call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minute
-at a time, then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly had
-drooped into a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had grown almost
-white. The village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn.
-
-Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the village
-bells, and in a moment the streets were swarming with frantic half-clad
-people, who shouted, "Turn out! turn out! they're found! they're
-found!" Tin pans and horns were added to the din, the population massed
-itself and moved toward the river, met the children coming in an open
-carriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined its
-homeward march, and swept magnificently up the main street roaring
-huzzah after huzzah!
-
-The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed again; it was the
-greatest night the little town had ever seen. During the first half-hour
-a procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seized
-the saved ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher's hand, tried to
-speak but couldn't--and drifted out raining tears all over the place.
-
-Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. It
-would be complete, however, as soon as the messenger dispatched with
-the great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom lay
-upon a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history of
-the wonderful adventure, putting in many striking additions to adorn it
-withal; and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went on
-an exploring expedition; how he followed two avenues as far as his
-kite-line would reach; how he followed a third to the fullest stretch of
-the kite-line, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a far-off
-speck that looked like daylight; dropped the line and groped toward it,
-pushed his head and shoulders through a small hole, and saw the broad
-Mississippi rolling by! And if it had only happened to be night he would
-not have seen that speck of daylight and would not have explored that
-passage any more! He told how he went back for Becky and broke the good
-news and she told him not to fret her with such stuff, for she was
-tired, and knew she was going to die, and wanted to. He described how he
-labored with her and convinced her; and how she almost died for joy when
-she had groped to where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight; how
-he pushed his way out at the hole and then helped her out; how they sat
-there and cried for gladness; how some men came along in a skiff and Tom
-hailed them and told them their situation and their famished condition;
-how the men didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because," said they,
-"you are five miles down the river below the valley the cave is in"
---then took them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made them
-rest till two or three hours after dark and then brought them home.
-
-Before day-dawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with him
-were tracked out, in the cave, by the twine clews they had strung
-behind them, and informed of the great news.
-
-Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to be
-shaken off at once, as Tom and Becky soon discovered. They were
-bedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more and
-more tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, on
-Thursday, was down-town Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday;
-but Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked as
-if she had passed through a wasting illness.
-
-Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, but
-could not be admitted to the bedroom; neither could he on Saturday or
-Sunday. He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep still
-about his adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglas
-stayed by to see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the Cardiff
-Hill event; also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been found
-in the river near the ferry-landing; he had been drowned while trying
-to escape, perhaps.
-
-About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off to
-visit Huck, who had grown plenty strong enough, now, to hear exciting
-talk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. Judge
-Thatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The
-Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked him
-ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he
-thought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said:
-
-"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt.
-But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any
-more."
-
-"Why?"
-
-"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago,
-and triple-locked--and I've got the keys."
-
-Tom turned as white as a sheet.
-
-"What's the matter, boy! Here, run, somebody! Fetch a glass of water!"
-
-The water was brought and thrown into Tom's face.
-
-"Ah, now you're all right. What was the matter with you, Tom?"
-
-"Oh, Judge, Injun Joe's in the cave!"
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIII
-
-WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiff-loads of
-men were on their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, well
-filled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff that
-bore Judge Thatcher.
-
-When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in
-the dim twilight of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground,
-dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longing
-eyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheer
-of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own
-experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but
-nevertheless he felt an abounding sense of relief and security, now,
-which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully appreciated
-before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the day
-he lifted his voice against this bloody-minded outcast.
-
-Injun Joe's bowie-knife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The
-great foundation-beam of the door had been chipped and hacked through,
-with tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock
-formed a sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife had
-wrought no effect; the only damage done was to the knife itself. But if
-there had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been
-useless still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could
-not have squeezed his body under the door, and he knew it. So he had
-only hacked that place in order to be doing something--in order to pass
-the weary time--in order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily
-one could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in the crevices
-of this vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. The
-prisoner had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived to
-catch a few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their
-claws. The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near at
-hand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages,
-builded by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had
-broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone,
-wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop
-that fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a
-clock-tick--a dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop
-was falling when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; when the
-foundations of Rome were laid; when Christ was crucified; when the
-Conqueror created the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when the
-massacre at Lexington was "news." It is falling now; it will still be
-falling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon of
-history, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed up in the
-thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Did
-this drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for
-this flitting human insect's need? and has it another important object
-to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No matter. It is many and
-many a year since the hapless half-breed scooped out the stone to catch
-the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist stares longest at that
-pathetic stone and that slow-dropping water when he comes to see the
-wonders of McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list of
-the cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's Palace" cannot rival it.
-
-Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked
-there in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms and
-hamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and all
-sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as
-satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the
-hanging.
-
-This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing--the petition to
-the governor for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largely
-signed; many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a
-committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail
-around the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample
-his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five
-citizens of the village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself
-there would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names
-to a pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently
-impaired and leaky water-works.
-
-The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have
-an important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the
-Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckoned
-there was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what he
-wanted to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said:
-
-"I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but
-whiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must 'a' ben
-you, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business; and I knowed you
-hadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other and
-told me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's always
-told me we'd never get holt of that swag."
-
-"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. YOU know his tavern
-was all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you
-was to watch there that night?"
-
-"Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I
-follered Injun Joe to the widder's."
-
-"YOU followed him?"
-
-"Yes--but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him,
-and I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it
-hadn't ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right."
-
-Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only
-heard of the Welshman's part of it before.
-
-"Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question,
-"whoever nipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon
---anyways it's a goner for us, Tom."
-
-"Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. 2!"
-
-"What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on
-the track of that money again?"
-
-"Huck, it's in the cave!"
-
-Huck's eyes blazed.
-
-"Say it again, Tom."
-
-"The money's in the cave!"
-
-"Tom--honest injun, now--is it fun, or earnest?"
-
-"Earnest, Huck--just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go
-in there with me and help get it out?"
-
-"I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not
-get lost."
-
-"Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the
-world."
-
-"Good as wheat! What makes you think the money's--"
-
-"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll
-agree to give you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. I
-will, by jings."
-
-"All right--it's a whiz. When do you say?"
-
-"Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?"
-
-"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days,
-now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tom--least I don't think I could."
-
-"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go,
-Huck, but there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me
-know about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the
-skiff down there, and I'll pull it back again all by myself. You
-needn't ever turn your hand over."
-
-"Less start right off, Tom."
-
-"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little
-bag or two, and two or three kite-strings, and some of these
-new-fangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many's
-the time I wished I had some when I was in there before."
-
-A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who
-was absent, and got under way at once. When they were several miles
-below "Cave Hollow," Tom said:
-
-"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the
-cave hollow--no houses, no wood-yards, bushes all alike. But do you see
-that white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well, that's
-one of my marks. We'll get ashore, now."
-
-They landed.
-
-"Now, Huck, where we're a-standing you could touch that hole I got out
-of with a fishing-pole. See if you can find it."
-
-Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly
-marched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said:
-
-"Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in this
-country. You just keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to be
-a robber, but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where to
-run across it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it
-quiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in--because of course
-there's got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it.
-Tom Sawyer's Gang--it sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?"
-
-"Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?"
-
-"Oh, most anybody. Waylay people--that's mostly the way."
-
-"And kill them?"
-
-"No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom."
-
-"What's a ransom?"
-
-"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; and
-after you've kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them.
-That's the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the
-women, but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, and
-awfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take
-your hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers
---you'll see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and
-after they've been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying and
-after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'd
-turn right around and come back. It's so in all the books."
-
-"Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate."
-
-"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and
-circuses and all that."
-
-By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom
-in the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel,
-then made their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few steps
-brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through
-him. He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of
-clay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the
-flame struggle and expire.
-
-The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and
-gloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently
-entered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the
-"jumping-off place." The candles revealed the fact that it was not
-really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet
-high. Tom whispered:
-
-"Now I'll show you something, Huck."
-
-He held his candle aloft and said:
-
-"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There--on
-the big rock over yonder--done with candle-smoke."
-
-"Tom, it's a CROSS!"
-
-"NOW where's your Number Two? 'UNDER THE CROSS,' hey? Right yonder's
-where I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!"
-
-Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice:
-
-"Tom, less git out of here!"
-
-"What! and leave the treasure?"
-
-"Yes--leave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain."
-
-"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he
-died--away out at the mouth of the cave--five mile from here."
-
-"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways
-of ghosts, and so do you."
-
-Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his
-mind. But presently an idea occurred to him--
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's
-ghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross!"
-
-The point was well taken. It had its effect.
-
-"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that
-cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box."
-
-Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended.
-Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the
-great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result.
-They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with
-a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, some
-bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there
-was no money-box. The lads searched and researched this place, but in
-vain. Tom said:
-
-"He said UNDER the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the
-cross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on
-the ground."
-
-They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged.
-Huck could suggest nothing. By-and-by Tom said:
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle-grease on the
-clay about one side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now,
-what's that for? I bet you the money IS under the rock. I'm going to
-dig in the clay."
-
-"That ain't no bad notion, Tom!" said Huck with animation.
-
-Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches
-before he struck wood.
-
-"Hey, Huck!--you hear that?"
-
-Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and
-removed. They had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock.
-Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as he
-could, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed to
-explore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow way descended
-gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to
-the left, Huck at his heels. Tom turned a short curve, by-and-by, and
-exclaimed:
-
-"My goodness, Huck, lookyhere!"
-
-It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern,
-along with an empty powder-keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two
-or three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbish
-well soaked with the water-drip.
-
-"Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with
-his hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!"
-
-"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe,
-but we HAVE got it, sure! Say--let's not fool around here. Let's snake
-it out. Lemme see if I can lift the box."
-
-It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward
-fashion, but could not carry it conveniently.
-
-"I thought so," he said; "THEY carried it like it was heavy, that day
-at the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think of
-fetching the little bags along."
-
-The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross
-rock.
-
-"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck.
-
-"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we
-go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our
-orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies."
-
-"What orgies?"
-
-"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to
-have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's
-getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we
-get to the skiff."
-
-They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily
-out, found the coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in the
-skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and got
-under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chatting
-cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark.
-
-"Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the
-widow's woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it
-and divide, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for it
-where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff till
-I run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be gone a minute."
-
-He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two
-small sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them, and started
-off, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the
-Welshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to move
-on, the Welshman stepped out and said:
-
-"Hallo, who's that?"
-
-"Huck and Tom Sawyer."
-
-"Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting.
-Here--hurry up, trot ahead--I'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not
-as light as it might be. Got bricks in it?--or old metal?"
-
-"Old metal," said Tom.
-
-"I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool
-away more time hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to the
-foundry than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But
-that's human nature--hurry along, hurry along!"
-
-The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about.
-
-"Never mind; you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'."
-
-Huck said with some apprehension--for he was long used to being
-falsely accused:
-
-"Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing."
-
-The Welshman laughed.
-
-"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you
-and the widow good friends?"
-
-"Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway."
-
-"All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?"
-
-This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he
-found himself pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawing-room.
-Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed.
-
-The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any
-consequence in the village was there. The Thatchers were there, the
-Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor,
-and a great many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow
-received the boys as heartily as any one could well receive two such
-looking beings. They were covered with clay and candle-grease. Aunt
-Polly blushed crimson with humiliation, and frowned and shook her head
-at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did, however. Mr.
-Jones said:
-
-"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him and
-Huck right at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry."
-
-"And you did just right," said the widow. "Come with me, boys."
-
-She took them to a bedchamber and said:
-
-"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes
---shirts, socks, everything complete. They're Huck's--no, no thanks,
-Huck--Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both of you.
-Get into them. We'll wait--come down when you are slicked up enough."
-
-Then she left.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIV
-
-HUCK said: "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain't
-high from the ground."
-
-"Shucks! what do you want to slope for?"
-
-"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain't
-going down there, Tom."
-
-"Oh, bother! It ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take care
-of you."
-
-Sid appeared.
-
-"Tom," said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon.
-Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting about
-you. Say--ain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?"
-
-"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all this
-blow-out about, anyway?"
-
-"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This time
-it's for the Welshman and his sons, on account of that scrape they
-helped her out of the other night. And say--I can tell you something,
-if you want to know."
-
-"Well, what?"
-
-"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the people
-here to-night, but I overheard him tell auntie to-day about it, as a
-secret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows
---the widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones was
-bound Huck should be here--couldn't get along with his grand secret
-without Huck, you know!"
-
-"Secret about what, Sid?"
-
-"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Jones
-was going to make a grand time over his surprise, but I bet you it will
-drop pretty flat."
-
-Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way.
-
-"Sid, was it you that told?"
-
-"Oh, never mind who it was. SOMEBODY told--that's enough."
-
-"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and
-that's you. If you had been in Huck's place you'd 'a' sneaked down the
-hill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean
-things, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones.
-There--no thanks, as the widow says"--and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and
-helped him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie if
-you dare--and to-morrow you'll catch it!"
-
-Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the supper-table, and a
-dozen children were propped up at little side-tables in the same room,
-after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr.
-Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for the
-honor she was doing himself and his sons, but said that there was
-another person whose modesty--
-
-And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in the
-adventure in the finest dramatic manner he was master of, but the
-surprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous and
-effusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However,
-the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so many
-compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot the
-nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely
-intolerable discomfort of being set up as a target for everybody's gaze
-and everybody's laudations.
-
-The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have
-him educated; and that when she could spare the money she would start
-him in business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said:
-
-"Huck don't need it. Huck's rich."
-
-Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company kept
-back the due and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But
-the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it:
-
-"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of
-it. Oh, you needn't smile--I reckon I can show you. You just wait a
-minute."
-
-Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with a
-perplexed interest--and inquiringly at Huck, who was tongue-tied.
-
-"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "He--well, there ain't ever any
-making of that boy out. I never--"
-
-Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly
-did not finish her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coin upon
-the table and said:
-
-"There--what did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine!"
-
-The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spoke
-for a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation. Tom
-said he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful of
-interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break the
-charm of its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said:
-
-"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but it
-don't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty small, I'm
-willing to allow."
-
-The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelve
-thousand dollars. It was more than any one present had ever seen at one
-time before, though several persons were there who were worth
-considerably more than that in property.
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXV
-
-THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made a
-mighty stir in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast a
-sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talked
-about, gloated over, glorified, until the reason of many of the
-citizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every
-"haunted" house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was
-dissected, plank by plank, and its foundations dug up and ransacked for
-hidden treasure--and not by boys, but men--pretty grave, unromantic
-men, too, some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they were
-courted, admired, stared at. The boys were not able to remember that
-their remarks had possessed weight before; but now their sayings were
-treasured and repeated; everything they did seemed somehow to be
-regarded as remarkable; they had evidently lost the power of doing and
-saying commonplace things; moreover, their past history was raked up
-and discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The village
-paper published biographical sketches of the boys.
-
-The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent., and Judge
-Thatcher did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had
-an income, now, that was simply prodigious--a dollar for every week-day
-in the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got
---no, it was what he was promised--he generally couldn't collect it. A
-dollar and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a boy in
-those old simple days--and clothe him and wash him, too, for that
-matter.
-
-Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no
-commonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When
-Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her
-whipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved; and when she pleaded
-grace for the mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift that
-whipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fine
-outburst that it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous lie--a lie that
-was worthy to hold up its head and march down through history breast to
-breast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet! Becky
-thought her father had never looked so tall and so superb as when he
-walked the floor and stamped his foot and said that. She went straight
-off and told Tom about it.
-
-Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some
-day. He said he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to the
-National Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law school
-in the country, in order that he might be ready for either career or
-both.
-
-Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the Widow
-Douglas' protection introduced him into society--no, dragged him into
-it, hurled him into it--and his sufferings were almost more than he
-could bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed and
-brushed, and they bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that had
-not one little spot or stain which he could press to his heart and know
-for a friend. He had to eat with a knife and fork; he had to use
-napkin, cup, and plate; he had to learn his book, he had to go to
-church; he had to talk so properly that speech was become insipid in
-his mouth; whithersoever he turned, the bars and shackles of
-civilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot.
-
-He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up
-missing. For forty-eight hours the widow hunted for him everywhere in
-great distress. The public were profoundly concerned; they searched
-high and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the third
-morning Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old empty hogsheads
-down behind the abandoned slaughter-house, and in one of them he found
-the refugee. Huck had slept there; he had just breakfasted upon some
-stolen odds and ends of food, and was lying off, now, in comfort, with
-his pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin of
-rags that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free and
-happy. Tom routed him out, told him the trouble he had been causing,
-and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content, and
-took a melancholy cast. He said:
-
-"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don't
-work, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it. The widder's good to
-me, and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just
-at the same time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all to
-thunder; she won't let me sleep in the woodshed; I got to wear them
-blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; they don't seem to any air
-git through 'em, somehow; and they're so rotten nice that I can't set
-down, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher's; I hain't slid on a
-cellar-door for--well, it 'pears to be years; I got to go to church and
-sweat and sweat--I hate them ornery sermons! I can't ketch a fly in
-there, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday. The widder eats by
-a bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell--everything's
-so awful reg'lar a body can't stand it."
-
-"Well, everybody does that way, Huck."
-
-"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't
-STAND it. It's awful to be tied up so. And grub comes too easy--I don't
-take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go a-fishing; I
-got to ask to go in a-swimming--dern'd if I hain't got to ask to do
-everything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no comfort--I'd got
-to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste in
-my mouth, or I'd a died, Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke; she
-wouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, nor
-scratch, before folks--" [Then with a spasm of special irritation and
-injury]--"And dad fetch it, she prayed all the time! I never see such a
-woman! I HAD to shove, Tom--I just had to. And besides, that school's
-going to open, and I'd a had to go to it--well, I wouldn't stand THAT,
-Tom. Looky here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's
-just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and a-wishing you was dead
-all the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, and
-I ain't ever going to shake 'em any more. Tom, I wouldn't ever got into
-all this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money; now you just take
-my sheer of it along with your'n, and gimme a ten-center sometimes--not
-many times, becuz I don't give a dern for a thing 'thout it's tollable
-hard to git--and you go and beg off for me with the widder."
-
-"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair; and besides if
-you'll try this thing just a while longer you'll come to like it."
-
-"Like it! Yes--the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long
-enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed
-smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and
-I'll stick to 'em, too. Blame it all! just as we'd got guns, and a
-cave, and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has got to
-come up and spile it all!"
-
-Tom saw his opportunity--
-
-"Lookyhere, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep me back from turning
-robber."
-
-"No! Oh, good-licks; are you in real dead-wood earnest, Tom?"
-
-"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let you
-into the gang if you ain't respectable, you know."
-
-Huck's joy was quenched.
-
-"Can't let me in, Tom? Didn't you let me go for a pirate?"
-
-"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more high-toned than what a
-pirate is--as a general thing. In most countries they're awful high up
-in the nobility--dukes and such."
-
-"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet me
-out, would you, Tom? You wouldn't do that, now, WOULD you, Tom?"
-
-"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I DON'T want to--but what would people
-say? Why, they'd say, 'Mph! Tom Sawyer's Gang! pretty low characters in
-it!' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't."
-
-Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle. Finally
-he said:
-
-"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see if
-I can come to stand it, if you'll let me b'long to the gang, Tom."
-
-"All right, Huck, it's a whiz! Come along, old chap, and I'll ask the
-widow to let up on you a little, Huck."
-
-"Will you, Tom--now will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some of
-the roughest things, I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowd
-through or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?"
-
-"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiation
-to-night, maybe."
-
-"Have the which?"
-
-"Have the initiation."
-
-"What's that?"
-
-"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang's
-secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders, and kill anybody and
-all his family that hurts one of the gang."
-
-"That's gay--that's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you."
-
-"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done at
-midnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can find--a ha'nted
-house is the best, but they're all ripped up now."
-
-"Well, midnight's good, anyway, Tom."
-
-"Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin, and sign it with
-blood."
-
-"Now, that's something LIKE! Why, it's a million times bullier than
-pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom; and if I git to be
-a reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckon
-she'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet."
-
-
-
-CONCLUSION
-
-SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a BOY, it
-must stop here; the story could not go much further without becoming
-the history of a MAN. When one writes a novel about grown people, he
-knows exactly where to stop--that is, with a marriage; but when he
-writes of juveniles, he must stop where he best can.
-
-Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are
-prosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up the
-story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they
-turned out to be; therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of that
-part of their lives at present.
--- /dev/null
+Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, steve harris, Josephine
+Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+OPTICKS:
+
+OR, A
+
+TREATISE
+
+OF THE
+
+_Reflections_, _Refractions_,
+_Inflections_ and _Colours_
+
+OF
+
+LIGHT.
+
+_The_ FOURTH EDITION, _corrected_.
+
+By Sir _ISAAC NEWTON_, Knt.
+
+LONDON:
+
+Printed for WILLIAM INNYS at the West-End of St. _Paul's_. MDCCXXX.
+
+TITLE PAGE OF THE 1730 EDITION
+
+
+
+
+SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S ADVERTISEMENTS
+
+
+
+
+Advertisement I
+
+
+_Part of the ensuing Discourse about Light was written at the Desire of
+some Gentlemen of the_ Royal-Society, _in the Year 1675, and then sent
+to their Secretary, and read at their Meetings, and the rest was added
+about twelve Years after to complete the Theory; except the third Book,
+and the last Proposition of the Second, which were since put together
+out of scatter'd Papers. To avoid being engaged in Disputes about these
+Matters, I have hitherto delayed the printing, and should still have
+delayed it, had not the Importunity of Friends prevailed upon me. If any
+other Papers writ on this Subject are got out of my Hands they are
+imperfect, and were perhaps written before I had tried all the
+Experiments here set down, and fully satisfied my self about the Laws of
+Refractions and Composition of Colours. I have here publish'd what I
+think proper to come abroad, wishing that it may not be translated into
+another Language without my Consent._
+
+_The Crowns of Colours, which sometimes appear about the Sun and Moon, I
+have endeavoured to give an Account of; but for want of sufficient
+Observations leave that Matter to be farther examined. The Subject of
+the Third Book I have also left imperfect, not having tried all the
+Experiments which I intended when I was about these Matters, nor
+repeated some of those which I did try, until I had satisfied my self
+about all their Circumstances. To communicate what I have tried, and
+leave the rest to others for farther Enquiry, is all my Design in
+publishing these Papers._
+
+_In a Letter written to Mr._ Leibnitz _in the year 1679, and published
+by Dr._ Wallis, _I mention'd a Method by which I had found some general
+Theorems about squaring Curvilinear Figures, or comparing them with the
+Conic Sections, or other the simplest Figures with which they may be
+compared. And some Years ago I lent out a Manuscript containing such
+Theorems, and having since met with some Things copied out of it, I have
+on this Occasion made it publick, prefixing to it an_ Introduction, _and
+subjoining a_ Scholium _concerning that Method. And I have joined with
+it another small Tract concerning the Curvilinear Figures of the Second
+Kind, which was also written many Years ago, and made known to some
+Friends, who have solicited the making it publick._
+
+ _I. N._
+
+April 1, 1704.
+
+
+Advertisement II
+
+_In this Second Edition of these Opticks I have omitted the Mathematical
+Tracts publish'd at the End of the former Edition, as not belonging to
+the Subject. And at the End of the Third Book I have added some
+Questions. And to shew that I do not take Gravity for an essential
+Property of Bodies, I have added one Question concerning its Cause,
+chusing to propose it by way of a Question, because I am not yet
+satisfied about it for want of Experiments._
+
+ _I. N._
+
+July 16, 1717.
+
+
+Advertisement to this Fourth Edition
+
+_This new Edition of Sir_ Isaac Newton's Opticks _is carefully printed
+from the Third Edition, as it was corrected by the Author's own Hand,
+and left before his Death with the Bookseller. Since Sir_ Isaac's
+Lectiones Opticæ, _which he publickly read in the University of_
+Cambridge _in the Years 1669, 1670, and 1671, are lately printed, it has
+been thought proper to make at the bottom of the Pages several Citations
+from thence, where may be found the Demonstrations, which the Author
+omitted in these_ Opticks.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Transcriber's Note: There are several greek letters used in the
+descriptions of the illustrations. They are signified by [Greek:
+letter]. Square roots are noted by the letters sqrt before the equation.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE FIRST BOOK OF OPTICKS
+
+
+
+
+_PART I._
+
+
+My Design in this Book is not to explain the Properties of Light by
+Hypotheses, but to propose and prove them by Reason and Experiments: In
+order to which I shall premise the following Definitions and Axioms.
+
+
+
+
+_DEFINITIONS_
+
+
+DEFIN. I.
+
+_By the Rays of Light I understand its least Parts, and those as well
+Successive in the same Lines, as Contemporary in several Lines._ For it
+is manifest that Light consists of Parts, both Successive and
+Contemporary; because in the same place you may stop that which comes
+one moment, and let pass that which comes presently after; and in the
+same time you may stop it in any one place, and let it pass in any
+other. For that part of Light which is stopp'd cannot be the same with
+that which is let pass. The least Light or part of Light, which may be
+stopp'd alone without the rest of the Light, or propagated alone, or do
+or suffer any thing alone, which the rest of the Light doth not or
+suffers not, I call a Ray of Light.
+
+
+DEFIN. II.
+
+_Refrangibility of the Rays of Light, is their Disposition to be
+refracted or turned out of their Way in passing out of one transparent
+Body or Medium into another. And a greater or less Refrangibility of
+Rays, is their Disposition to be turned more or less out of their Way in
+like Incidences on the same Medium._ Mathematicians usually consider the
+Rays of Light to be Lines reaching from the luminous Body to the Body
+illuminated, and the refraction of those Rays to be the bending or
+breaking of those lines in their passing out of one Medium into another.
+And thus may Rays and Refractions be considered, if Light be propagated
+in an instant. But by an Argument taken from the Æquations of the times
+of the Eclipses of _Jupiter's Satellites_, it seems that Light is
+propagated in time, spending in its passage from the Sun to us about
+seven Minutes of time: And therefore I have chosen to define Rays and
+Refractions in such general terms as may agree to Light in both cases.
+
+
+DEFIN. III.
+
+_Reflexibility of Rays, is their Disposition to be reflected or turned
+back into the same Medium from any other Medium upon whose Surface they
+fall. And Rays are more or less reflexible, which are turned back more
+or less easily._ As if Light pass out of a Glass into Air, and by being
+inclined more and more to the common Surface of the Glass and Air,
+begins at length to be totally reflected by that Surface; those sorts of
+Rays which at like Incidences are reflected most copiously, or by
+inclining the Rays begin soonest to be totally reflected, are most
+reflexible.
+
+
+DEFIN. IV.
+
+_The Angle of Incidence is that Angle, which the Line described by the
+incident Ray contains with the Perpendicular to the reflecting or
+refracting Surface at the Point of Incidence._
+
+
+DEFIN. V.
+
+_The Angle of Reflexion or Refraction, is the Angle which the line
+described by the reflected or refracted Ray containeth with the
+Perpendicular to the reflecting or refracting Surface at the Point of
+Incidence._
+
+
+DEFIN. VI.
+
+_The Sines of Incidence, Reflexion, and Refraction, are the Sines of the
+Angles of Incidence, Reflexion, and Refraction._
+
+
+DEFIN. VII
+
+_The Light whose Rays are all alike Refrangible, I call Simple,
+Homogeneal and Similar; and that whose Rays are some more Refrangible
+than others, I call Compound, Heterogeneal and Dissimilar._ The former
+Light I call Homogeneal, not because I would affirm it so in all
+respects, but because the Rays which agree in Refrangibility, agree at
+least in all those their other Properties which I consider in the
+following Discourse.
+
+
+DEFIN. VIII.
+
+_The Colours of Homogeneal Lights, I call Primary, Homogeneal and
+Simple; and those of Heterogeneal Lights, Heterogeneal and Compound._
+For these are always compounded of the colours of Homogeneal Lights; as
+will appear in the following Discourse.
+
+
+
+
+_AXIOMS._
+
+
+AX. I.
+
+_The Angles of Reflexion and Refraction, lie in one and the same Plane
+with the Angle of Incidence._
+
+
+AX. II.
+
+_The Angle of Reflexion is equal to the Angle of Incidence._
+
+
+AX. III.
+
+_If the refracted Ray be returned directly back to the Point of
+Incidence, it shall be refracted into the Line before described by the
+incident Ray._
+
+
+AX. IV.
+
+_Refraction out of the rarer Medium into the denser, is made towards the
+Perpendicular; that is, so that the Angle of Refraction be less than the
+Angle of Incidence._
+
+
+AX. V.
+
+_The Sine of Incidence is either accurately or very nearly in a given
+Ratio to the Sine of Refraction._
+
+Whence if that Proportion be known in any one Inclination of the
+incident Ray, 'tis known in all the Inclinations, and thereby the
+Refraction in all cases of Incidence on the same refracting Body may be
+determined. Thus if the Refraction be made out of Air into Water, the
+Sine of Incidence of the red Light is to the Sine of its Refraction as 4
+to 3. If out of Air into Glass, the Sines are as 17 to 11. In Light of
+other Colours the Sines have other Proportions: but the difference is so
+little that it need seldom be considered.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 1]
+
+Suppose therefore, that RS [in _Fig._ 1.] represents the Surface of
+stagnating Water, and that C is the point of Incidence in which any Ray
+coming in the Air from A in the Line AC is reflected or refracted, and I
+would know whither this Ray shall go after Reflexion or Refraction: I
+erect upon the Surface of the Water from the point of Incidence the
+Perpendicular CP and produce it downwards to Q, and conclude by the
+first Axiom, that the Ray after Reflexion and Refraction, shall be
+found somewhere in the Plane of the Angle of Incidence ACP produced. I
+let fall therefore upon the Perpendicular CP the Sine of Incidence AD;
+and if the reflected Ray be desired, I produce AD to B so that DB be
+equal to AD, and draw CB. For this Line CB shall be the reflected Ray;
+the Angle of Reflexion BCP and its Sine BD being equal to the Angle and
+Sine of Incidence, as they ought to be by the second Axiom, But if the
+refracted Ray be desired, I produce AD to H, so that DH may be to AD as
+the Sine of Refraction to the Sine of Incidence, that is, (if the Light
+be red) as 3 to 4; and about the Center C and in the Plane ACP with the
+Radius CA describing a Circle ABE, I draw a parallel to the
+Perpendicular CPQ, the Line HE cutting the Circumference in E, and
+joining CE, this Line CE shall be the Line of the refracted Ray. For if
+EF be let fall perpendicularly on the Line PQ, this Line EF shall be the
+Sine of Refraction of the Ray CE, the Angle of Refraction being ECQ; and
+this Sine EF is equal to DH, and consequently in Proportion to the Sine
+of Incidence AD as 3 to 4.
+
+In like manner, if there be a Prism of Glass (that is, a Glass bounded
+with two Equal and Parallel Triangular ends, and three plain and well
+polished Sides, which meet in three Parallel Lines running from the
+three Angles of one end to the three Angles of the other end) and if the
+Refraction of the Light in passing cross this Prism be desired: Let ACB
+[in _Fig._ 2.] represent a Plane cutting this Prism transversly to its
+three Parallel lines or edges there where the Light passeth through it,
+and let DE be the Ray incident upon the first side of the Prism AC where
+the Light goes into the Glass; and by putting the Proportion of the Sine
+of Incidence to the Sine of Refraction as 17 to 11 find EF the first
+refracted Ray. Then taking this Ray for the Incident Ray upon the second
+side of the Glass BC where the Light goes out, find the next refracted
+Ray FG by putting the Proportion of the Sine of Incidence to the Sine of
+Refraction as 11 to 17. For if the Sine of Incidence out of Air into
+Glass be to the Sine of Refraction as 17 to 11, the Sine of Incidence
+out of Glass into Air must on the contrary be to the Sine of Refraction
+as 11 to 17, by the third Axiom.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
+
+Much after the same manner, if ACBD [in _Fig._ 3.] represent a Glass
+spherically convex on both sides (usually called a _Lens_, such as is a
+Burning-glass, or Spectacle-glass, or an Object-glass of a Telescope)
+and it be required to know how Light falling upon it from any lucid
+point Q shall be refracted, let QM represent a Ray falling upon any
+point M of its first spherical Surface ACB, and by erecting a
+Perpendicular to the Glass at the point M, find the first refracted Ray
+MN by the Proportion of the Sines 17 to 11. Let that Ray in going out of
+the Glass be incident upon N, and then find the second refracted Ray
+N_q_ by the Proportion of the Sines 11 to 17. And after the same manner
+may the Refraction be found when the Lens is convex on one side and
+plane or concave on the other, or concave on both sides.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
+
+
+AX. VI.
+
+_Homogeneal Rays which flow from several Points of any Object, and fall
+perpendicularly or almost perpendicularly on any reflecting or
+refracting Plane or spherical Surface, shall afterwards diverge from so
+many other Points, or be parallel to so many other Lines, or converge to
+so many other Points, either accurately or without any sensible Error.
+And the same thing will happen, if the Rays be reflected or refracted
+successively by two or three or more Plane or Spherical Surfaces._
+
+The Point from which Rays diverge or to which they converge may be
+called their _Focus_. And the Focus of the incident Rays being given,
+that of the reflected or refracted ones may be found by finding the
+Refraction of any two Rays, as above; or more readily thus.
+
+_Cas._ 1. Let ACB [in _Fig._ 4.] be a reflecting or refracting Plane,
+and Q the Focus of the incident Rays, and Q_q_C a Perpendicular to that
+Plane. And if this Perpendicular be produced to _q_, so that _q_C be
+equal to QC, the Point _q_ shall be the Focus of the reflected Rays: Or
+if _q_C be taken on the same side of the Plane with QC, and in
+proportion to QC as the Sine of Incidence to the Sine of Refraction, the
+Point _q_ shall be the Focus of the refracted Rays.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
+
+_Cas._ 2. Let ACB [in _Fig._ 5.] be the reflecting Surface of any Sphere
+whose Centre is E. Bisect any Radius thereof, (suppose EC) in T, and if
+in that Radius on the same side the Point T you take the Points Q and
+_q_, so that TQ, TE, and T_q_, be continual Proportionals, and the Point
+Q be the Focus of the incident Rays, the Point _q_ shall be the Focus of
+the reflected ones.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 5.]
+
+_Cas._ 3. Let ACB [in _Fig._ 6.] be the refracting Surface of any Sphere
+whose Centre is E. In any Radius thereof EC produced both ways take ET
+and C_t_ equal to one another and severally in such Proportion to that
+Radius as the lesser of the Sines of Incidence and Refraction hath to
+the difference of those Sines. And then if in the same Line you find any
+two Points Q and _q_, so that TQ be to ET as E_t_ to _tq_, taking _tq_
+the contrary way from _t_ which TQ lieth from T, and if the Point Q be
+the Focus of any incident Rays, the Point _q_ shall be the Focus of the
+refracted ones.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 6.]
+
+And by the same means the Focus of the Rays after two or more Reflexions
+or Refractions may be found.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 7.]
+
+_Cas._ 4. Let ACBD [in _Fig._ 7.] be any refracting Lens, spherically
+Convex or Concave or Plane on either side, and let CD be its Axis (that
+is, the Line which cuts both its Surfaces perpendicularly, and passes
+through the Centres of the Spheres,) and in this Axis produced let F and
+_f_ be the Foci of the refracted Rays found as above, when the incident
+Rays on both sides the Lens are parallel to the same Axis; and upon the
+Diameter F_f_ bisected in E, describe a Circle. Suppose now that any
+Point Q be the Focus of any incident Rays. Draw QE cutting the said
+Circle in T and _t_, and therein take _tq_ in such proportion to _t_E as
+_t_E or TE hath to TQ. Let _tq_ lie the contrary way from _t_ which TQ
+doth from T, and _q_ shall be the Focus of the refracted Rays without
+any sensible Error, provided the Point Q be not so remote from the Axis,
+nor the Lens so broad as to make any of the Rays fall too obliquely on
+the refracting Surfaces.[A]
+
+And by the like Operations may the reflecting or refracting Surfaces be
+found when the two Foci are given, and thereby a Lens be formed, which
+shall make the Rays flow towards or from what Place you please.[B]
+
+So then the Meaning of this Axiom is, that if Rays fall upon any Plane
+or Spherical Surface or Lens, and before their Incidence flow from or
+towards any Point Q, they shall after Reflexion or Refraction flow from
+or towards the Point _q_ found by the foregoing Rules. And if the
+incident Rays flow from or towards several points Q, the reflected or
+refracted Rays shall flow from or towards so many other Points _q_
+found by the same Rules. Whether the reflected and refracted Rays flow
+from or towards the Point _q_ is easily known by the situation of that
+Point. For if that Point be on the same side of the reflecting or
+refracting Surface or Lens with the Point Q, and the incident Rays flow
+from the Point Q, the reflected flow towards the Point _q_ and the
+refracted from it; and if the incident Rays flow towards Q, the
+reflected flow from _q_, and the refracted towards it. And the contrary
+happens when _q_ is on the other side of the Surface.
+
+
+AX. VII.
+
+_Wherever the Rays which come from all the Points of any Object meet
+again in so many Points after they have been made to converge by
+Reflection or Refraction, there they will make a Picture of the Object
+upon any white Body on which they fall._
+
+So if PR [in _Fig._ 3.] represent any Object without Doors, and AB be a
+Lens placed at a hole in the Window-shut of a dark Chamber, whereby the
+Rays that come from any Point Q of that Object are made to converge and
+meet again in the Point _q_; and if a Sheet of white Paper be held at
+_q_ for the Light there to fall upon it, the Picture of that Object PR
+will appear upon the Paper in its proper shape and Colours. For as the
+Light which comes from the Point Q goes to the Point _q_, so the Light
+which comes from other Points P and R of the Object, will go to so many
+other correspondent Points _p_ and _r_ (as is manifest by the sixth
+Axiom;) so that every Point of the Object shall illuminate a
+correspondent Point of the Picture, and thereby make a Picture like the
+Object in Shape and Colour, this only excepted, that the Picture shall
+be inverted. And this is the Reason of that vulgar Experiment of casting
+the Species of Objects from abroad upon a Wall or Sheet of white Paper
+in a dark Room.
+
+In like manner, when a Man views any Object PQR, [in _Fig._ 8.] the
+Light which comes from the several Points of the Object is so refracted
+by the transparent skins and humours of the Eye, (that is, by the
+outward coat EFG, called the _Tunica Cornea_, and by the crystalline
+humour AB which is beyond the Pupil _mk_) as to converge and meet again
+in so many Points in the bottom of the Eye, and there to paint the
+Picture of the Object upon that skin (called the _Tunica Retina_) with
+which the bottom of the Eye is covered. For Anatomists, when they have
+taken off from the bottom of the Eye that outward and most thick Coat
+called the _Dura Mater_, can then see through the thinner Coats, the
+Pictures of Objects lively painted thereon. And these Pictures,
+propagated by Motion along the Fibres of the Optick Nerves into the
+Brain, are the cause of Vision. For accordingly as these Pictures are
+perfect or imperfect, the Object is seen perfectly or imperfectly. If
+the Eye be tinged with any colour (as in the Disease of the _Jaundice_)
+so as to tinge the Pictures in the bottom of the Eye with that Colour,
+then all Objects appear tinged with the same Colour. If the Humours of
+the Eye by old Age decay, so as by shrinking to make the _Cornea_ and
+Coat of the _Crystalline Humour_ grow flatter than before, the Light
+will not be refracted enough, and for want of a sufficient Refraction
+will not converge to the bottom of the Eye but to some place beyond it,
+and by consequence paint in the bottom of the Eye a confused Picture,
+and according to the Indistinctness of this Picture the Object will
+appear confused. This is the reason of the decay of sight in old Men,
+and shews why their Sight is mended by Spectacles. For those Convex
+glasses supply the defect of plumpness in the Eye, and by increasing the
+Refraction make the Rays converge sooner, so as to convene distinctly at
+the bottom of the Eye if the Glass have a due degree of convexity. And
+the contrary happens in short-sighted Men whose Eyes are too plump. For
+the Refraction being now too great, the Rays converge and convene in the
+Eyes before they come at the bottom; and therefore the Picture made in
+the bottom and the Vision caused thereby will not be distinct, unless
+the Object be brought so near the Eye as that the place where the
+converging Rays convene may be removed to the bottom, or that the
+plumpness of the Eye be taken off and the Refractions diminished by a
+Concave-glass of a due degree of Concavity, or lastly that by Age the
+Eye grow flatter till it come to a due Figure: For short-sighted Men see
+remote Objects best in Old Age, and therefore they are accounted to have
+the most lasting Eyes.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 8.]
+
+
+AX. VIII.
+
+_An Object seen by Reflexion or Refraction, appears in that place from
+whence the Rays after their last Reflexion or Refraction diverge in
+falling on the Spectator's Eye._
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 9.]
+
+If the Object A [in FIG. 9.] be seen by Reflexion of a Looking-glass
+_mn_, it shall appear, not in its proper place A, but behind the Glass
+at _a_, from whence any Rays AB, AC, AD, which flow from one and the
+same Point of the Object, do after their Reflexion made in the Points B,
+C, D, diverge in going from the Glass to E, F, G, where they are
+incident on the Spectator's Eyes. For these Rays do make the same
+Picture in the bottom of the Eyes as if they had come from the Object
+really placed at _a_ without the Interposition of the Looking-glass; and
+all Vision is made according to the place and shape of that Picture.
+
+In like manner the Object D [in FIG. 2.] seen through a Prism, appears
+not in its proper place D, but is thence translated to some other place
+_d_ situated in the last refracted Ray FG drawn backward from F to _d_.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 10.]
+
+And so the Object Q [in FIG. 10.] seen through the Lens AB, appears at
+the place _q_ from whence the Rays diverge in passing from the Lens to
+the Eye. Now it is to be noted, that the Image of the Object at _q_ is
+so much bigger or lesser than the Object it self at Q, as the distance
+of the Image at _q_ from the Lens AB is bigger or less than the distance
+of the Object at Q from the same Lens. And if the Object be seen through
+two or more such Convex or Concave-glasses, every Glass shall make a new
+Image, and the Object shall appear in the place of the bigness of the
+last Image. Which consideration unfolds the Theory of Microscopes and
+Telescopes. For that Theory consists in almost nothing else than the
+describing such Glasses as shall make the last Image of any Object as
+distinct and large and luminous as it can conveniently be made.
+
+I have now given in Axioms and their Explications the sum of what hath
+hitherto been treated of in Opticks. For what hath been generally
+agreed on I content my self to assume under the notion of Principles, in
+order to what I have farther to write. And this may suffice for an
+Introduction to Readers of quick Wit and good Understanding not yet
+versed in Opticks: Although those who are already acquainted with this
+Science, and have handled Glasses, will more readily apprehend what
+followeth.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] In our Author's _Lectiones Opticæ_, Part I. Sect. IV. Prop 29, 30,
+there is an elegant Method of determining these _Foci_; not only in
+spherical Surfaces, but likewise in any other curved Figure whatever:
+And in Prop. 32, 33, the same thing is done for any Ray lying out of the
+Axis.
+
+[B] _Ibid._ Prop. 34.
+
+
+
+
+_PROPOSITIONS._
+
+
+
+_PROP._ I. THEOR. I.
+
+_Lights which differ in Colour, differ also in Degrees of
+Refrangibility._
+
+The PROOF by Experiments.
+
+_Exper._ 1.
+
+I took a black oblong stiff Paper terminated by Parallel Sides, and with
+a Perpendicular right Line drawn cross from one Side to the other,
+distinguished it into two equal Parts. One of these parts I painted with
+a red colour and the other with a blue. The Paper was very black, and
+the Colours intense and thickly laid on, that the Phænomenon might be
+more conspicuous. This Paper I view'd through a Prism of solid Glass,
+whose two Sides through which the Light passed to the Eye were plane and
+well polished, and contained an Angle of about sixty degrees; which
+Angle I call the refracting Angle of the Prism. And whilst I view'd it,
+I held it and the Prism before a Window in such manner that the Sides of
+the Paper were parallel to the Prism, and both those Sides and the Prism
+were parallel to the Horizon, and the cross Line was also parallel to
+it: and that the Light which fell from the Window upon the Paper made an
+Angle with the Paper, equal to that Angle which was made with the same
+Paper by the Light reflected from it to the Eye. Beyond the Prism was
+the Wall of the Chamber under the Window covered over with black Cloth,
+and the Cloth was involved in Darkness that no Light might be reflected
+from thence, which in passing by the Edges of the Paper to the Eye,
+might mingle itself with the Light of the Paper, and obscure the
+Phænomenon thereof. These things being thus ordered, I found that if the
+refracting Angle of the Prism be turned upwards, so that the Paper may
+seem to be lifted upwards by the Refraction, its blue half will be
+lifted higher by the Refraction than its red half. But if the refracting
+Angle of the Prism be turned downward, so that the Paper may seem to be
+carried lower by the Refraction, its blue half will be carried something
+lower thereby than its red half. Wherefore in both Cases the Light which
+comes from the blue half of the Paper through the Prism to the Eye, does
+in like Circumstances suffer a greater Refraction than the Light which
+comes from the red half, and by consequence is more refrangible.
+
+_Illustration._ In the eleventh Figure, MN represents the Window, and DE
+the Paper terminated with parallel Sides DJ and HE, and by the
+transverse Line FG distinguished into two halfs, the one DG of an
+intensely blue Colour, the other FE of an intensely red. And BAC_cab_
+represents the Prism whose refracting Planes AB_ba_ and AC_ca_ meet in
+the Edge of the refracting Angle A_a_. This Edge A_a_ being upward, is
+parallel both to the Horizon, and to the Parallel-Edges of the Paper DJ
+and HE, and the transverse Line FG is perpendicular to the Plane of the
+Window. And _de_ represents the Image of the Paper seen by Refraction
+upwards in such manner, that the blue half DG is carried higher to _dg_
+than the red half FE is to _fe_, and therefore suffers a greater
+Refraction. If the Edge of the refracting Angle be turned downward, the
+Image of the Paper will be refracted downward; suppose to [Greek: de],
+and the blue half will be refracted lower to [Greek: dg] than the red
+half is to [Greek: pe].
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 11.]
+
+_Exper._ 2. About the aforesaid Paper, whose two halfs were painted over
+with red and blue, and which was stiff like thin Pasteboard, I lapped
+several times a slender Thred of very black Silk, in such manner that
+the several parts of the Thred might appear upon the Colours like so
+many black Lines drawn over them, or like long and slender dark Shadows
+cast upon them. I might have drawn black Lines with a Pen, but the
+Threds were smaller and better defined. This Paper thus coloured and
+lined I set against a Wall perpendicularly to the Horizon, so that one
+of the Colours might stand to the Right Hand, and the other to the Left.
+Close before the Paper, at the Confine of the Colours below, I placed a
+Candle to illuminate the Paper strongly: For the Experiment was tried in
+the Night. The Flame of the Candle reached up to the lower edge of the
+Paper, or a very little higher. Then at the distance of six Feet, and
+one or two Inches from the Paper upon the Floor I erected a Glass Lens
+four Inches and a quarter broad, which might collect the Rays coming
+from the several Points of the Paper, and make them converge towards so
+many other Points at the same distance of six Feet, and one or two
+Inches on the other side of the Lens, and so form the Image of the
+coloured Paper upon a white Paper placed there, after the same manner
+that a Lens at a Hole in a Window casts the Images of Objects abroad
+upon a Sheet of white Paper in a dark Room. The aforesaid white Paper,
+erected perpendicular to the Horizon, and to the Rays which fell upon it
+from the Lens, I moved sometimes towards the Lens, sometimes from it, to
+find the Places where the Images of the blue and red Parts of the
+coloured Paper appeared most distinct. Those Places I easily knew by the
+Images of the black Lines which I had made by winding the Silk about the
+Paper. For the Images of those fine and slender Lines (which by reason
+of their Blackness were like Shadows on the Colours) were confused and
+scarce visible, unless when the Colours on either side of each Line were
+terminated most distinctly, Noting therefore, as diligently as I could,
+the Places where the Images of the red and blue halfs of the coloured
+Paper appeared most distinct, I found that where the red half of the
+Paper appeared distinct, the blue half appeared confused, so that the
+black Lines drawn upon it could scarce be seen; and on the contrary,
+where the blue half appeared most distinct, the red half appeared
+confused, so that the black Lines upon it were scarce visible. And
+between the two Places where these Images appeared distinct there was
+the distance of an Inch and a half; the distance of the white Paper from
+the Lens, when the Image of the red half of the coloured Paper appeared
+most distinct, being greater by an Inch and an half than the distance of
+the same white Paper from the Lens, when the Image of the blue half
+appeared most distinct. In like Incidences therefore of the blue and red
+upon the Lens, the blue was refracted more by the Lens than the red, so
+as to converge sooner by an Inch and a half, and therefore is more
+refrangible.
+
+_Illustration._ In the twelfth Figure (p. 27), DE signifies the coloured
+Paper, DG the blue half, FE the red half, MN the Lens, HJ the white
+Paper in that Place where the red half with its black Lines appeared
+distinct, and _hi_ the same Paper in that Place where the blue half
+appeared distinct. The Place _hi_ was nearer to the Lens MN than the
+Place HJ by an Inch and an half.
+
+_Scholium._ The same Things succeed, notwithstanding that some of the
+Circumstances be varied; as in the first Experiment when the Prism and
+Paper are any ways inclined to the Horizon, and in both when coloured
+Lines are drawn upon very black Paper. But in the Description of these
+Experiments, I have set down such Circumstances, by which either the
+Phænomenon might be render'd more conspicuous, or a Novice might more
+easily try them, or by which I did try them only. The same Thing, I have
+often done in the following Experiments: Concerning all which, this one
+Admonition may suffice. Now from these Experiments it follows not, that
+all the Light of the blue is more refrangible than all the Light of the
+red: For both Lights are mixed of Rays differently refrangible, so that
+in the red there are some Rays not less refrangible than those of the
+blue, and in the blue there are some Rays not more refrangible than
+those of the red: But these Rays, in proportion to the whole Light, are
+but few, and serve to diminish the Event of the Experiment, but are not
+able to destroy it. For, if the red and blue Colours were more dilute
+and weak, the distance of the Images would be less than an Inch and a
+half; and if they were more intense and full, that distance would be
+greater, as will appear hereafter. These Experiments may suffice for the
+Colours of Natural Bodies. For in the Colours made by the Refraction of
+Prisms, this Proposition will appear by the Experiments which are now to
+follow in the next Proposition.
+
+
+_PROP._ II. THEOR. II.
+
+_The Light of the Sun consists of Rays differently Refrangible._
+
+The PROOF by Experiments.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 12.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 13.]
+
+_Exper._ 3.
+
+In a very dark Chamber, at a round Hole, about one third Part of an Inch
+broad, made in the Shut of a Window, I placed a Glass Prism, whereby the
+Beam of the Sun's Light, which came in at that Hole, might be refracted
+upwards toward the opposite Wall of the Chamber, and there form a
+colour'd Image of the Sun. The Axis of the Prism (that is, the Line
+passing through the middle of the Prism from one end of it to the other
+end parallel to the edge of the Refracting Angle) was in this and the
+following Experiments perpendicular to the incident Rays. About this
+Axis I turned the Prism slowly, and saw the refracted Light on the Wall,
+or coloured Image of the Sun, first to descend, and then to ascend.
+Between the Descent and Ascent, when the Image seemed Stationary, I
+stopp'd the Prism, and fix'd it in that Posture, that it should be moved
+no more. For in that Posture the Refractions of the Light at the two
+Sides of the refracting Angle, that is, at the Entrance of the Rays into
+the Prism, and at their going out of it, were equal to one another.[C]
+So also in other Experiments, as often as I would have the Refractions
+on both sides the Prism to be equal to one another, I noted the Place
+where the Image of the Sun formed by the refracted Light stood still
+between its two contrary Motions, in the common Period of its Progress
+and Regress; and when the Image fell upon that Place, I made fast the
+Prism. And in this Posture, as the most convenient, it is to be
+understood that all the Prisms are placed in the following Experiments,
+unless where some other Posture is described. The Prism therefore being
+placed in this Posture, I let the refracted Light fall perpendicularly
+upon a Sheet of white Paper at the opposite Wall of the Chamber, and
+observed the Figure and Dimensions of the Solar Image formed on the
+Paper by that Light. This Image was Oblong and not Oval, but terminated
+with two Rectilinear and Parallel Sides, and two Semicircular Ends. On
+its Sides it was bounded pretty distinctly, but on its Ends very
+confusedly and indistinctly, the Light there decaying and vanishing by
+degrees. The Breadth of this Image answered to the Sun's Diameter, and
+was about two Inches and the eighth Part of an Inch, including the
+Penumbra. For the Image was eighteen Feet and an half distant from the
+Prism, and at this distance that Breadth, if diminished by the Diameter
+of the Hole in the Window-shut, that is by a quarter of an Inch,
+subtended an Angle at the Prism of about half a Degree, which is the
+Sun's apparent Diameter. But the Length of the Image was about ten
+Inches and a quarter, and the Length of the Rectilinear Sides about
+eight Inches; and the refracting Angle of the Prism, whereby so great a
+Length was made, was 64 degrees. With a less Angle the Length of the
+Image was less, the Breadth remaining the same. If the Prism was turned
+about its Axis that way which made the Rays emerge more obliquely out of
+the second refracting Surface of the Prism, the Image soon became an
+Inch or two longer, or more; and if the Prism was turned about the
+contrary way, so as to make the Rays fall more obliquely on the first
+refracting Surface, the Image soon became an Inch or two shorter. And
+therefore in trying this Experiment, I was as curious as I could be in
+placing the Prism by the above-mention'd Rule exactly in such a Posture,
+that the Refractions of the Rays at their Emergence out of the Prism
+might be equal to that at their Incidence on it. This Prism had some
+Veins running along within the Glass from one end to the other, which
+scattered some of the Sun's Light irregularly, but had no sensible
+Effect in increasing the Length of the coloured Spectrum. For I tried
+the same Experiment with other Prisms with the same Success. And
+particularly with a Prism which seemed free from such Veins, and whose
+refracting Angle was 62-1/2 Degrees, I found the Length of the Image
+9-3/4 or 10 Inches at the distance of 18-1/2 Feet from the Prism, the
+Breadth of the Hole in the Window-shut being 1/4 of an Inch, as before.
+And because it is easy to commit a Mistake in placing the Prism in its
+due Posture, I repeated the Experiment four or five Times, and always
+found the Length of the Image that which is set down above. With another
+Prism of clearer Glass and better Polish, which seemed free from Veins,
+and whose refracting Angle was 63-1/2 Degrees, the Length of this Image
+at the same distance of 18-1/2 Feet was also about 10 Inches, or 10-1/8.
+Beyond these Measures for about a 1/4 or 1/3 of an Inch at either end of
+the Spectrum the Light of the Clouds seemed to be a little tinged with
+red and violet, but so very faintly, that I suspected that Tincture
+might either wholly, or in great Measure arise from some Rays of the
+Spectrum scattered irregularly by some Inequalities in the Substance and
+Polish of the Glass, and therefore I did not include it in these
+Measures. Now the different Magnitude of the hole in the Window-shut,
+and different thickness of the Prism where the Rays passed through it,
+and different inclinations of the Prism to the Horizon, made no sensible
+changes in the length of the Image. Neither did the different matter of
+the Prisms make any: for in a Vessel made of polished Plates of Glass
+cemented together in the shape of a Prism and filled with Water, there
+is the like Success of the Experiment according to the quantity of the
+Refraction. It is farther to be observed, that the Rays went on in right
+Lines from the Prism to the Image, and therefore at their very going out
+of the Prism had all that Inclination to one another from which the
+length of the Image proceeded, that is, the Inclination of more than two
+degrees and an half. And yet according to the Laws of Opticks vulgarly
+received, they could not possibly be so much inclined to one another.[D]
+For let EG [_Fig._ 13. (p. 27)] represent the Window-shut, F the hole
+made therein through which a beam of the Sun's Light was transmitted
+into the darkened Chamber, and ABC a Triangular Imaginary Plane whereby
+the Prism is feigned to be cut transversely through the middle of the
+Light. Or if you please, let ABC represent the Prism it self, looking
+directly towards the Spectator's Eye with its nearer end: And let XY be
+the Sun, MN the Paper upon which the Solar Image or Spectrum is cast,
+and PT the Image it self whose sides towards _v_ and _w_ are Rectilinear
+and Parallel, and ends towards P and T Semicircular. YKHP and XLJT are
+two Rays, the first of which comes from the lower part of the Sun to the
+higher part of the Image, and is refracted in the Prism at K and H, and
+the latter comes from the higher part of the Sun to the lower part of
+the Image, and is refracted at L and J. Since the Refractions on both
+sides the Prism are equal to one another, that is, the Refraction at K
+equal to the Refraction at J, and the Refraction at L equal to the
+Refraction at H, so that the Refractions of the incident Rays at K and L
+taken together, are equal to the Refractions of the emergent Rays at H
+and J taken together: it follows by adding equal things to equal things,
+that the Refractions at K and H taken together, are equal to the
+Refractions at J and L taken together, and therefore the two Rays being
+equally refracted, have the same Inclination to one another after
+Refraction which they had before; that is, the Inclination of half a
+Degree answering to the Sun's Diameter. For so great was the inclination
+of the Rays to one another before Refraction. So then, the length of the
+Image PT would by the Rules of Vulgar Opticks subtend an Angle of half a
+Degree at the Prism, and by Consequence be equal to the breadth _vw_;
+and therefore the Image would be round. Thus it would be were the two
+Rays XLJT and YKHP, and all the rest which form the Image P_w_T_v_,
+alike refrangible. And therefore seeing by Experience it is found that
+the Image is not round, but about five times longer than broad, the Rays
+which going to the upper end P of the Image suffer the greatest
+Refraction, must be more refrangible than those which go to the lower
+end T, unless the Inequality of Refraction be casual.
+
+This Image or Spectrum PT was coloured, being red at its least refracted
+end T, and violet at its most refracted end P, and yellow green and
+blue in the intermediate Spaces. Which agrees with the first
+Proposition, that Lights which differ in Colour, do also differ in
+Refrangibility. The length of the Image in the foregoing Experiments, I
+measured from the faintest and outmost red at one end, to the faintest
+and outmost blue at the other end, excepting only a little Penumbra,
+whose breadth scarce exceeded a quarter of an Inch, as was said above.
+
+_Exper._ 4. In the Sun's Beam which was propagated into the Room through
+the hole in the Window-shut, at the distance of some Feet from the hole,
+I held the Prism in such a Posture, that its Axis might be perpendicular
+to that Beam. Then I looked through the Prism upon the hole, and turning
+the Prism to and fro about its Axis, to make the Image of the Hole
+ascend and descend, when between its two contrary Motions it seemed
+Stationary, I stopp'd the Prism, that the Refractions of both sides of
+the refracting Angle might be equal to each other, as in the former
+Experiment. In this situation of the Prism viewing through it the said
+Hole, I observed the length of its refracted Image to be many times
+greater than its breadth, and that the most refracted part thereof
+appeared violet, the least refracted red, the middle parts blue, green
+and yellow in order. The same thing happen'd when I removed the Prism
+out of the Sun's Light, and looked through it upon the hole shining by
+the Light of the Clouds beyond it. And yet if the Refraction were done
+regularly according to one certain Proportion of the Sines of Incidence
+and Refraction as is vulgarly supposed, the refracted Image ought to
+have appeared round.
+
+So then, by these two Experiments it appears, that in Equal Incidences
+there is a considerable inequality of Refractions. But whence this
+inequality arises, whether it be that some of the incident Rays are
+refracted more, and others less, constantly, or by chance, or that one
+and the same Ray is by Refraction disturbed, shatter'd, dilated, and as
+it were split and spread into many diverging Rays, as _Grimaldo_
+supposes, does not yet appear by these Experiments, but will appear by
+those that follow.
+
+_Exper._ 5. Considering therefore, that if in the third Experiment the
+Image of the Sun should be drawn out into an oblong Form, either by a
+Dilatation of every Ray, or by any other casual inequality of the
+Refractions, the same oblong Image would by a second Refraction made
+sideways be drawn out as much in breadth by the like Dilatation of the
+Rays, or other casual inequality of the Refractions sideways, I tried
+what would be the Effects of such a second Refraction. For this end I
+ordered all things as in the third Experiment, and then placed a second
+Prism immediately after the first in a cross Position to it, that it
+might again refract the beam of the Sun's Light which came to it through
+the first Prism. In the first Prism this beam was refracted upwards, and
+in the second sideways. And I found that by the Refraction of the second
+Prism, the breadth of the Image was not increased, but its superior
+part, which in the first Prism suffered the greater Refraction, and
+appeared violet and blue, did again in the second Prism suffer a greater
+Refraction than its inferior part, which appeared red and yellow, and
+this without any Dilatation of the Image in breadth.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 14]
+
+_Illustration._ Let S [_Fig._ 14, 15.] represent the Sun, F the hole in
+the Window, ABC the first Prism, DH the second Prism, Y the round Image
+of the Sun made by a direct beam of Light when the Prisms are taken
+away, PT the oblong Image of the Sun made by that beam passing through
+the first Prism alone, when the second Prism is taken away, and _pt_ the
+Image made by the cross Refractions of both Prisms together. Now if the
+Rays which tend towards the several Points of the round Image Y were
+dilated and spread by the Refraction of the first Prism, so that they
+should not any longer go in single Lines to single Points, but that
+every Ray being split, shattered, and changed from a Linear Ray to a
+Superficies of Rays diverging from the Point of Refraction, and lying in
+the Plane of the Angles of Incidence and Refraction, they should go in
+those Planes to so many Lines reaching almost from one end of the Image
+PT to the other, and if that Image should thence become oblong: those
+Rays and their several parts tending towards the several Points of the
+Image PT ought to be again dilated and spread sideways by the transverse
+Refraction of the second Prism, so as to compose a four square Image,
+such as is represented at [Greek: pt]. For the better understanding of
+which, let the Image PT be distinguished into five equal parts PQK,
+KQRL, LRSM, MSVN, NVT. And by the same irregularity that the orbicular
+Light Y is by the Refraction of the first Prism dilated and drawn out
+into a long Image PT, the Light PQK which takes up a space of the same
+length and breadth with the Light Y ought to be by the Refraction of the
+second Prism dilated and drawn out into the long Image _[Greek: p]qkp_,
+and the Light KQRL into the long Image _kqrl_, and the Lights LRSM,
+MSVN, NVT, into so many other long Images _lrsm_, _msvn_, _nvt[Greek:
+t]_; and all these long Images would compose the four square Images
+_[Greek: pt]_. Thus it ought to be were every Ray dilated by Refraction,
+and spread into a triangular Superficies of Rays diverging from the
+Point of Refraction. For the second Refraction would spread the Rays one
+way as much as the first doth another, and so dilate the Image in
+breadth as much as the first doth in length. And the same thing ought to
+happen, were some rays casually refracted more than others. But the
+Event is otherwise. The Image PT was not made broader by the Refraction
+of the second Prism, but only became oblique, as 'tis represented at
+_pt_, its upper end P being by the Refraction translated to a greater
+distance than its lower end T. So then the Light which went towards the
+upper end P of the Image, was (at equal Incidences) more refracted in
+the second Prism, than the Light which tended towards the lower end T,
+that is the blue and violet, than the red and yellow; and therefore was
+more refrangible. The same Light was by the Refraction of the first
+Prism translated farther from the place Y to which it tended before
+Refraction; and therefore suffered as well in the first Prism as in the
+second a greater Refraction than the rest of the Light, and by
+consequence was more refrangible than the rest, even before its
+incidence on the first Prism.
+
+Sometimes I placed a third Prism after the second, and sometimes also a
+fourth after the third, by all which the Image might be often refracted
+sideways: but the Rays which were more refracted than the rest in the
+first Prism were also more refracted in all the rest, and that without
+any Dilatation of the Image sideways: and therefore those Rays for their
+constancy of a greater Refraction are deservedly reputed more
+refrangible.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 15]
+
+But that the meaning of this Experiment may more clearly appear, it is
+to be considered that the Rays which are equally refrangible do fall
+upon a Circle answering to the Sun's Disque. For this was proved in the
+third Experiment. By a Circle I understand not here a perfect
+geometrical Circle, but any orbicular Figure whose length is equal to
+its breadth, and which, as to Sense, may seem circular. Let therefore AG
+[in _Fig._ 15.] represent the Circle which all the most refrangible Rays
+propagated from the whole Disque of the Sun, would illuminate and paint
+upon the opposite Wall if they were alone; EL the Circle which all the
+least refrangible Rays would in like manner illuminate and paint if they
+were alone; BH, CJ, DK, the Circles which so many intermediate sorts of
+Rays would successively paint upon the Wall, if they were singly
+propagated from the Sun in successive order, the rest being always
+intercepted; and conceive that there are other intermediate Circles
+without Number, which innumerable other intermediate sorts of Rays would
+successively paint upon the Wall if the Sun should successively emit
+every sort apart. And seeing the Sun emits all these sorts at once, they
+must all together illuminate and paint innumerable equal Circles, of all
+which, being according to their degrees of Refrangibility placed in
+order in a continual Series, that oblong Spectrum PT is composed which I
+described in the third Experiment. Now if the Sun's circular Image Y [in
+_Fig._ 15.] which is made by an unrefracted beam of Light was by any
+Dilation of the single Rays, or by any other irregularity in the
+Refraction of the first Prism, converted into the oblong Spectrum, PT:
+then ought every Circle AG, BH, CJ, &c. in that Spectrum, by the cross
+Refraction of the second Prism again dilating or otherwise scattering
+the Rays as before, to be in like manner drawn out and transformed into
+an oblong Figure, and thereby the breadth of the Image PT would be now
+as much augmented as the length of the Image Y was before by the
+Refraction of the first Prism; and thus by the Refractions of both
+Prisms together would be formed a four square Figure _p[Greek:
+p]t[Greek: t]_, as I described above. Wherefore since the breadth of the
+Spectrum PT is not increased by the Refraction sideways, it is certain
+that the Rays are not split or dilated, or otherways irregularly
+scatter'd by that Refraction, but that every Circle is by a regular and
+uniform Refraction translated entire into another Place, as the Circle
+AG by the greatest Refraction into the place _ag_, the Circle BH by a
+less Refraction into the place _bh_, the Circle CJ by a Refraction still
+less into the place _ci_, and so of the rest; by which means a new
+Spectrum _pt_ inclined to the former PT is in like manner composed of
+Circles lying in a right Line; and these Circles must be of the same
+bigness with the former, because the breadths of all the Spectrums Y, PT
+and _pt_ at equal distances from the Prisms are equal.
+
+I considered farther, that by the breadth of the hole F through which
+the Light enters into the dark Chamber, there is a Penumbra made in the
+Circuit of the Spectrum Y, and that Penumbra remains in the rectilinear
+Sides of the Spectrums PT and _pt_. I placed therefore at that hole a
+Lens or Object-glass of a Telescope which might cast the Image of the
+Sun distinctly on Y without any Penumbra at all, and found that the
+Penumbra of the rectilinear Sides of the oblong Spectrums PT and _pt_
+was also thereby taken away, so that those Sides appeared as distinctly
+defined as did the Circumference of the first Image Y. Thus it happens
+if the Glass of the Prisms be free from Veins, and their sides be
+accurately plane and well polished without those numberless Waves or
+Curles which usually arise from Sand-holes a little smoothed in
+polishing with Putty. If the Glass be only well polished and free from
+Veins, and the Sides not accurately plane, but a little Convex or
+Concave, as it frequently happens; yet may the three Spectrums Y, PT and
+_pt_ want Penumbras, but not in equal distances from the Prisms. Now
+from this want of Penumbras, I knew more certainly that every one of the
+Circles was refracted according to some most regular, uniform and
+constant Law. For if there were any irregularity in the Refraction, the
+right Lines AE and GL, which all the Circles in the Spectrum PT do
+touch, could not by that Refraction be translated into the Lines _ae_
+and _gl_ as distinct and straight as they were before, but there would
+arise in those translated Lines some Penumbra or Crookedness or
+Undulation, or other sensible Perturbation contrary to what is found by
+Experience. Whatsoever Penumbra or Perturbation should be made in the
+Circles by the cross Refraction of the second Prism, all that Penumbra
+or Perturbation would be conspicuous in the right Lines _ae_ and _gl_
+which touch those Circles. And therefore since there is no such Penumbra
+or Perturbation in those right Lines, there must be none in the
+Circles. Since the distance between those Tangents or breadth of the
+Spectrum is not increased by the Refractions, the Diameters of the
+Circles are not increased thereby. Since those Tangents continue to be
+right Lines, every Circle which in the first Prism is more or less
+refracted, is exactly in the same proportion more or less refracted in
+the second. And seeing all these things continue to succeed after the
+same manner when the Rays are again in a third Prism, and again in a
+fourth refracted sideways, it is evident that the Rays of one and the
+same Circle, as to their degree of Refrangibility, continue always
+uniform and homogeneal to one another, and that those of several Circles
+do differ in degree of Refrangibility, and that in some certain and
+constant Proportion. Which is the thing I was to prove.
+
+There is yet another Circumstance or two of this Experiment by which it
+becomes still more plain and convincing. Let the second Prism DH [in
+_Fig._ 16.] be placed not immediately after the first, but at some
+distance from it; suppose in the mid-way between it and the Wall on
+which the oblong Spectrum PT is cast, so that the Light from the first
+Prism may fall upon it in the form of an oblong Spectrum [Greek: pt]
+parallel to this second Prism, and be refracted sideways to form the
+oblong Spectrum _pt_ upon the Wall. And you will find as before, that
+this Spectrum _pt_ is inclined to that Spectrum PT, which the first
+Prism forms alone without the second; the blue ends P and _p_ being
+farther distant from one another than the red ones T and _t_, and by
+consequence that the Rays which go to the blue end [Greek: p] of the
+Image [Greek: pt], and which therefore suffer the greatest Refraction in
+the first Prism, are again in the second Prism more refracted than the
+rest.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 16.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 17.]
+
+The same thing I try'd also by letting the Sun's Light into a dark Room
+through two little round holes F and [Greek: ph] [in _Fig._ 17.] made in
+the Window, and with two parallel Prisms ABC and [Greek: abg] placed at
+those holes (one at each) refracting those two beams of Light to the
+opposite Wall of the Chamber, in such manner that the two colour'd
+Images PT and MN which they there painted were joined end to end and lay
+in one straight Line, the red end T of the one touching the blue end M
+of the other. For if these two refracted Beams were again by a third
+Prism DH placed cross to the two first, refracted sideways, and the
+Spectrums thereby translated to some other part of the Wall of the
+Chamber, suppose the Spectrum PT to _pt_ and the Spectrum MN to _mn_,
+these translated Spectrums _pt_ and _mn_ would not lie in one straight
+Line with their ends contiguous as before, but be broken off from one
+another and become parallel, the blue end _m_ of the Image _mn_ being by
+a greater Refraction translated farther from its former place MT, than
+the red end _t_ of the other Image _pt_ from the same place MT; which
+puts the Proposition past Dispute. And this happens whether the third
+Prism DH be placed immediately after the two first, or at a great
+distance from them, so that the Light refracted in the two first Prisms
+be either white and circular, or coloured and oblong when it falls on
+the third.
+
+_Exper._ 6. In the middle of two thin Boards I made round holes a third
+part of an Inch in diameter, and in the Window-shut a much broader hole
+being made to let into my darkned Chamber a large Beam of the Sun's
+Light; I placed a Prism behind the Shut in that beam to refract it
+towards the opposite Wall, and close behind the Prism I fixed one of the
+Boards, in such manner that the middle of the refracted Light might pass
+through the hole made in it, and the rest be intercepted by the Board.
+Then at the distance of about twelve Feet from the first Board I fixed
+the other Board in such manner that the middle of the refracted Light
+which came through the hole in the first Board, and fell upon the
+opposite Wall, might pass through the hole in this other Board, and the
+rest being intercepted by the Board might paint upon it the coloured
+Spectrum of the Sun. And close behind this Board I fixed another Prism
+to refract the Light which came through the hole. Then I returned
+speedily to the first Prism, and by turning it slowly to and fro about
+its Axis, I caused the Image which fell upon the second Board to move up
+and down upon that Board, that all its parts might successively pass
+through the hole in that Board and fall upon the Prism behind it. And in
+the mean time, I noted the places on the opposite Wall to which that
+Light after its Refraction in the second Prism did pass; and by the
+difference of the places I found that the Light which being most
+refracted in the first Prism did go to the blue end of the Image, was
+again more refracted in the second Prism than the Light which went to
+the red end of that Image, which proves as well the first Proposition as
+the second. And this happened whether the Axis of the two Prisms were
+parallel, or inclined to one another, and to the Horizon in any given
+Angles.
+
+_Illustration._ Let F [in _Fig._ 18.] be the wide hole in the
+Window-shut, through which the Sun shines upon the first Prism ABC, and
+let the refracted Light fall upon the middle of the Board DE, and the
+middle part of that Light upon the hole G made in the middle part of
+that Board. Let this trajected part of that Light fall again upon the
+middle of the second Board _de_, and there paint such an oblong coloured
+Image of the Sun as was described in the third Experiment. By turning
+the Prism ABC slowly to and fro about its Axis, this Image will be made
+to move up and down the Board _de_, and by this means all its parts from
+one end to the other may be made to pass successively through the hole
+_g_ which is made in the middle of that Board. In the mean while another
+Prism _abc_ is to be fixed next after that hole _g_, to refract the
+trajected Light a second time. And these things being thus ordered, I
+marked the places M and N of the opposite Wall upon which the refracted
+Light fell, and found that whilst the two Boards and second Prism
+remained unmoved, those places by turning the first Prism about its Axis
+were changed perpetually. For when the lower part of the Light which
+fell upon the second Board _de_ was cast through the hole _g_, it went
+to a lower place M on the Wall and when the higher part of that Light
+was cast through the same hole _g_, it went to a higher place N on the
+Wall, and when any intermediate part of the Light was cast through that
+hole, it went to some place on the Wall between M and N. The unchanged
+Position of the holes in the Boards, made the Incidence of the Rays upon
+the second Prism to be the same in all cases. And yet in that common
+Incidence some of the Rays were more refracted, and others less. And
+those were more refracted in this Prism, which by a greater Refraction
+in the first Prism were more turned out of the way, and therefore for
+their Constancy of being more refracted are deservedly called more
+refrangible.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 18.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 20.]
+
+_Exper._ 7. At two holes made near one another in my Window-shut I
+placed two Prisms, one at each, which might cast upon the opposite Wall
+(after the manner of the third Experiment) two oblong coloured Images of
+the Sun. And at a little distance from the Wall I placed a long slender
+Paper with straight and parallel edges, and ordered the Prisms and Paper
+so, that the red Colour of one Image might fall directly upon one half
+of the Paper, and the violet Colour of the other Image upon the other
+half of the same Paper; so that the Paper appeared of two Colours, red
+and violet, much after the manner of the painted Paper in the first and
+second Experiments. Then with a black Cloth I covered the Wall behind
+the Paper, that no Light might be reflected from it to disturb the
+Experiment, and viewing the Paper through a third Prism held parallel
+to it, I saw that half of it which was illuminated by the violet Light
+to be divided from the other half by a greater Refraction, especially
+when I went a good way off from the Paper. For when I viewed it too near
+at hand, the two halfs of the Paper did not appear fully divided from
+one another, but seemed contiguous at one of their Angles like the
+painted Paper in the first Experiment. Which also happened when the
+Paper was too broad.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 19.]
+
+Sometimes instead of the Paper I used a white Thred, and this appeared
+through the Prism divided into two parallel Threds as is represented in
+the nineteenth Figure, where DG denotes the Thred illuminated with
+violet Light from D to E and with red Light from F to G, and _defg_ are
+the parts of the Thred seen by Refraction. If one half of the Thred be
+constantly illuminated with red, and the other half be illuminated with
+all the Colours successively, (which may be done by causing one of the
+Prisms to be turned about its Axis whilst the other remains unmoved)
+this other half in viewing the Thred through the Prism, will appear in
+a continual right Line with the first half when illuminated with red,
+and begin to be a little divided from it when illuminated with Orange,
+and remove farther from it when illuminated with yellow, and still
+farther when with green, and farther when with blue, and go yet farther
+off when illuminated with Indigo, and farthest when with deep violet.
+Which plainly shews, that the Lights of several Colours are more and
+more refrangible one than another, in this Order of their Colours, red,
+orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, deep violet; and so proves as well
+the first Proposition as the second.
+
+I caused also the coloured Spectrums PT [in _Fig._ 17.] and MN made in a
+dark Chamber by the Refractions of two Prisms to lie in a Right Line end
+to end, as was described above in the fifth Experiment, and viewing them
+through a third Prism held parallel to their Length, they appeared no
+longer in a Right Line, but became broken from one another, as they are
+represented at _pt_ and _mn_, the violet end _m_ of the Spectrum _mn_
+being by a greater Refraction translated farther from its former Place
+MT than the red end _t_ of the other Spectrum _pt_.
+
+I farther caused those two Spectrums PT [in _Fig._ 20.] and MN to become
+co-incident in an inverted Order of their Colours, the red end of each
+falling on the violet end of the other, as they are represented in the
+oblong Figure PTMN; and then viewing them through a Prism DH held
+parallel to their Length, they appeared not co-incident, as when view'd
+with the naked Eye, but in the form of two distinct Spectrums _pt_ and
+_mn_ crossing one another in the middle after the manner of the Letter
+X. Which shews that the red of the one Spectrum and violet of the other,
+which were co-incident at PN and MT, being parted from one another by a
+greater Refraction of the violet to _p_ and _m_ than of the red to _n_
+and _t_, do differ in degrees of Refrangibility.
+
+I illuminated also a little Circular Piece of white Paper all over with
+the Lights of both Prisms intermixed, and when it was illuminated with
+the red of one Spectrum, and deep violet of the other, so as by the
+Mixture of those Colours to appear all over purple, I viewed the Paper,
+first at a less distance, and then at a greater, through a third Prism;
+and as I went from the Paper, the refracted Image thereof became more
+and more divided by the unequal Refraction of the two mixed Colours, and
+at length parted into two distinct Images, a red one and a violet one,
+whereof the violet was farthest from the Paper, and therefore suffered
+the greatest Refraction. And when that Prism at the Window, which cast
+the violet on the Paper was taken away, the violet Image disappeared;
+but when the other Prism was taken away the red vanished; which shews,
+that these two Images were nothing else than the Lights of the two
+Prisms, which had been intermixed on the purple Paper, but were parted
+again by their unequal Refractions made in the third Prism, through
+which the Paper was view'd. This also was observable, that if one of the
+Prisms at the Window, suppose that which cast the violet on the Paper,
+was turned about its Axis to make all the Colours in this order,
+violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, red, fall successively on
+the Paper from that Prism, the violet Image changed Colour accordingly,
+turning successively to indigo, blue, green, yellow and red, and in
+changing Colour came nearer and nearer to the red Image made by the
+other Prism, until when it was also red both Images became fully
+co-incident.
+
+I placed also two Paper Circles very near one another, the one in the
+red Light of one Prism, and the other in the violet Light of the other.
+The Circles were each of them an Inch in diameter, and behind them the
+Wall was dark, that the Experiment might not be disturbed by any Light
+coming from thence. These Circles thus illuminated, I viewed through a
+Prism, so held, that the Refraction might be made towards the red
+Circle, and as I went from them they came nearer and nearer together,
+and at length became co-incident; and afterwards when I went still
+farther off, they parted again in a contrary Order, the violet by a
+greater Refraction being carried beyond the red.
+
+_Exper._ 8. In Summer, when the Sun's Light uses to be strongest, I
+placed a Prism at the Hole of the Window-shut, as in the third
+Experiment, yet so that its Axis might be parallel to the Axis of the
+World, and at the opposite Wall in the Sun's refracted Light, I placed
+an open Book. Then going six Feet and two Inches from the Book, I placed
+there the above-mentioned Lens, by which the Light reflected from the
+Book might be made to converge and meet again at the distance of six
+Feet and two Inches behind the Lens, and there paint the Species of the
+Book upon a Sheet of white Paper much after the manner of the second
+Experiment. The Book and Lens being made fast, I noted the Place where
+the Paper was, when the Letters of the Book, illuminated by the fullest
+red Light of the Solar Image falling upon it, did cast their Species on
+that Paper most distinctly: And then I stay'd till by the Motion of the
+Sun, and consequent Motion of his Image on the Book, all the Colours
+from that red to the middle of the blue pass'd over those Letters; and
+when those Letters were illuminated by that blue, I noted again the
+Place of the Paper when they cast their Species most distinctly upon it:
+And I found that this last Place of the Paper was nearer to the Lens
+than its former Place by about two Inches and an half, or two and three
+quarters. So much sooner therefore did the Light in the violet end of
+the Image by a greater Refraction converge and meet, than the Light in
+the red end. But in trying this, the Chamber was as dark as I could make
+it. For, if these Colours be diluted and weakned by the Mixture of any
+adventitious Light, the distance between the Places of the Paper will
+not be so great. This distance in the second Experiment, where the
+Colours of natural Bodies were made use of, was but an Inch and an half,
+by reason of the Imperfection of those Colours. Here in the Colours of
+the Prism, which are manifestly more full, intense, and lively than
+those of natural Bodies, the distance is two Inches and three quarters.
+And were the Colours still more full, I question not but that the
+distance would be considerably greater. For the coloured Light of the
+Prism, by the interfering of the Circles described in the second Figure
+of the fifth Experiment, and also by the Light of the very bright Clouds
+next the Sun's Body intermixing with these Colours, and by the Light
+scattered by the Inequalities in the Polish of the Prism, was so very
+much compounded, that the Species which those faint and dark Colours,
+the indigo and violet, cast upon the Paper were not distinct enough to
+be well observed.
+
+_Exper._ 9. A Prism, whose two Angles at its Base were equal to one
+another, and half right ones, and the third a right one, I placed in a
+Beam of the Sun's Light let into a dark Chamber through a Hole in the
+Window-shut, as in the third Experiment. And turning the Prism slowly
+about its Axis, until all the Light which went through one of its
+Angles, and was refracted by it began to be reflected by its Base, at
+which till then it went out of the Glass, I observed that those Rays
+which had suffered the greatest Refraction were sooner reflected than
+the rest. I conceived therefore, that those Rays of the reflected Light,
+which were most refrangible, did first of all by a total Reflexion
+become more copious in that Light than the rest, and that afterwards the
+rest also, by a total Reflexion, became as copious as these. To try
+this, I made the reflected Light pass through another Prism, and being
+refracted by it to fall afterwards upon a Sheet of white Paper placed
+at some distance behind it, and there by that Refraction to paint the
+usual Colours of the Prism. And then causing the first Prism to be
+turned about its Axis as above, I observed that when those Rays, which
+in this Prism had suffered the greatest Refraction, and appeared of a
+blue and violet Colour began to be totally reflected, the blue and
+violet Light on the Paper, which was most refracted in the second Prism,
+received a sensible Increase above that of the red and yellow, which was
+least refracted; and afterwards, when the rest of the Light which was
+green, yellow, and red, began to be totally reflected in the first
+Prism, the Light of those Colours on the Paper received as great an
+Increase as the violet and blue had done before. Whence 'tis manifest,
+that the Beam of Light reflected by the Base of the Prism, being
+augmented first by the more refrangible Rays, and afterwards by the less
+refrangible ones, is compounded of Rays differently refrangible. And
+that all such reflected Light is of the same Nature with the Sun's Light
+before its Incidence on the Base of the Prism, no Man ever doubted; it
+being generally allowed, that Light by such Reflexions suffers no
+Alteration in its Modifications and Properties. I do not here take
+Notice of any Refractions made in the sides of the first Prism, because
+the Light enters it perpendicularly at the first side, and goes out
+perpendicularly at the second side, and therefore suffers none. So then,
+the Sun's incident Light being of the same Temper and Constitution with
+his emergent Light, and the last being compounded of Rays differently
+refrangible, the first must be in like manner compounded.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 21.]
+
+_Illustration._ In the twenty-first Figure, ABC is the first Prism, BC
+its Base, B and C its equal Angles at the Base, each of 45 Degrees, A
+its rectangular Vertex, FM a beam of the Sun's Light let into a dark
+Room through a hole F one third part of an Inch broad, M its Incidence
+on the Base of the Prism, MG a less refracted Ray, MH a more refracted
+Ray, MN the beam of Light reflected from the Base, VXY the second Prism
+by which this beam in passing through it is refracted, N_t_ the less
+refracted Light of this beam, and N_p_ the more refracted part thereof.
+When the first Prism ABC is turned about its Axis according to the order
+of the Letters ABC, the Rays MH emerge more and more obliquely out of
+that Prism, and at length after their most oblique Emergence are
+reflected towards N, and going on to _p_ do increase the Number of the
+Rays N_p_. Afterwards by continuing the Motion of the first Prism, the
+Rays MG are also reflected to N and increase the number of the Rays
+N_t_. And therefore the Light MN admits into its Composition, first the
+more refrangible Rays, and then the less refrangible Rays, and yet after
+this Composition is of the same Nature with the Sun's immediate Light
+FM, the Reflexion of the specular Base BC causing no Alteration therein.
+
+_Exper._ 10. Two Prisms, which were alike in Shape, I tied so together,
+that their Axis and opposite Sides being parallel, they composed a
+Parallelopiped. And, the Sun shining into my dark Chamber through a
+little hole in the Window-shut, I placed that Parallelopiped in his beam
+at some distance from the hole, in such a Posture, that the Axes of the
+Prisms might be perpendicular to the incident Rays, and that those Rays
+being incident upon the first Side of one Prism, might go on through the
+two contiguous Sides of both Prisms, and emerge out of the last Side of
+the second Prism. This Side being parallel to the first Side of the
+first Prism, caused the emerging Light to be parallel to the incident.
+Then, beyond these two Prisms I placed a third, which might refract that
+emergent Light, and by that Refraction cast the usual Colours of the
+Prism upon the opposite Wall, or upon a sheet of white Paper held at a
+convenient Distance behind the Prism for that refracted Light to fall
+upon it. After this I turned the Parallelopiped about its Axis, and
+found that when the contiguous Sides of the two Prisms became so oblique
+to the incident Rays, that those Rays began all of them to be
+reflected, those Rays which in the third Prism had suffered the greatest
+Refraction, and painted the Paper with violet and blue, were first of
+all by a total Reflexion taken out of the transmitted Light, the rest
+remaining and on the Paper painting their Colours of green, yellow,
+orange and red, as before; and afterwards by continuing the Motion of
+the two Prisms, the rest of the Rays also by a total Reflexion vanished
+in order, according to their degrees of Refrangibility. The Light
+therefore which emerged out of the two Prisms is compounded of Rays
+differently refrangible, seeing the more refrangible Rays may be taken
+out of it, while the less refrangible remain. But this Light being
+trajected only through the parallel Superficies of the two Prisms, if it
+suffer'd any change by the Refraction of one Superficies it lost that
+Impression by the contrary Refraction of the other Superficies, and so
+being restor'd to its pristine Constitution, became of the same Nature
+and Condition as at first before its Incidence on those Prisms; and
+therefore, before its Incidence, was as much compounded of Rays
+differently refrangible, as afterwards.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 22.]
+
+_Illustration._ In the twenty second Figure ABC and BCD are the two
+Prisms tied together in the form of a Parallelopiped, their Sides BC and
+CB being contiguous, and their Sides AB and CD parallel. And HJK is the
+third Prism, by which the Sun's Light propagated through the hole F into
+the dark Chamber, and there passing through those sides of the Prisms
+AB, BC, CB and CD, is refracted at O to the white Paper PT, falling
+there partly upon P by a greater Refraction, partly upon T by a less
+Refraction, and partly upon R and other intermediate places by
+intermediate Refractions. By turning the Parallelopiped ACBD about its
+Axis, according to the order of the Letters A, C, D, B, at length when
+the contiguous Planes BC and CB become sufficiently oblique to the Rays
+FM, which are incident upon them at M, there will vanish totally out of
+the refracted Light OPT, first of all the most refracted Rays OP, (the
+rest OR and OT remaining as before) then the Rays OR and other
+intermediate ones, and lastly, the least refracted Rays OT. For when
+the Plane BC becomes sufficiently oblique to the Rays incident upon it,
+those Rays will begin to be totally reflected by it towards N; and first
+the most refrangible Rays will be totally reflected (as was explained in
+the preceding Experiment) and by Consequence must first disappear at P,
+and afterwards the rest as they are in order totally reflected to N,
+they must disappear in the same order at R and T. So then the Rays which
+at O suffer the greatest Refraction, may be taken out of the Light MO
+whilst the rest of the Rays remain in it, and therefore that Light MO is
+compounded of Rays differently refrangible. And because the Planes AB
+and CD are parallel, and therefore by equal and contrary Refractions
+destroy one anothers Effects, the incident Light FM must be of the same
+Kind and Nature with the emergent Light MO, and therefore doth also
+consist of Rays differently refrangible. These two Lights FM and MO,
+before the most refrangible Rays are separated out of the emergent Light
+MO, agree in Colour, and in all other Properties so far as my
+Observation reaches, and therefore are deservedly reputed of the same
+Nature and Constitution, and by Consequence the one is compounded as
+well as the other. But after the most refrangible Rays begin to be
+totally reflected, and thereby separated out of the emergent Light MO,
+that Light changes its Colour from white to a dilute and faint yellow, a
+pretty good orange, a very full red successively, and then totally
+vanishes. For after the most refrangible Rays which paint the Paper at
+P with a purple Colour, are by a total Reflexion taken out of the beam
+of Light MO, the rest of the Colours which appear on the Paper at R and
+T being mix'd in the Light MO compound there a faint yellow, and after
+the blue and part of the green which appear on the Paper between P and R
+are taken away, the rest which appear between R and T (that is the
+yellow, orange, red and a little green) being mixed in the beam MO
+compound there an orange; and when all the Rays are by Reflexion taken
+out of the beam MO, except the least refrangible, which at T appear of a
+full red, their Colour is the same in that beam MO as afterwards at T,
+the Refraction of the Prism HJK serving only to separate the differently
+refrangible Rays, without making any Alteration in their Colours, as
+shall be more fully proved hereafter. All which confirms as well the
+first Proposition as the second.
+
+_Scholium._ If this Experiment and the former be conjoined and made one
+by applying a fourth Prism VXY [in _Fig._ 22.] to refract the reflected
+beam MN towards _tp_, the Conclusion will be clearer. For then the Light
+N_p_ which in the fourth Prism is more refracted, will become fuller and
+stronger when the Light OP, which in the third Prism HJK is more
+refracted, vanishes at P; and afterwards when the less refracted Light
+OT vanishes at T, the less refracted Light N_t_ will become increased
+whilst the more refracted Light at _p_ receives no farther increase. And
+as the trajected beam MO in vanishing is always of such a Colour as
+ought to result from the mixture of the Colours which fall upon the
+Paper PT, so is the reflected beam MN always of such a Colour as ought
+to result from the mixture of the Colours which fall upon the Paper
+_pt_. For when the most refrangible Rays are by a total Reflexion taken
+out of the beam MO, and leave that beam of an orange Colour, the Excess
+of those Rays in the reflected Light, does not only make the violet,
+indigo and blue at _p_ more full, but also makes the beam MN change from
+the yellowish Colour of the Sun's Light, to a pale white inclining to
+blue, and afterward recover its yellowish Colour again, so soon as all
+the rest of the transmitted Light MOT is reflected.
+
+Now seeing that in all this variety of Experiments, whether the Trial be
+made in Light reflected, and that either from natural Bodies, as in the
+first and second Experiment, or specular, as in the ninth; or in Light
+refracted, and that either before the unequally refracted Rays are by
+diverging separated from one another, and losing their whiteness which
+they have altogether, appear severally of several Colours, as in the
+fifth Experiment; or after they are separated from one another, and
+appear colour'd as in the sixth, seventh, and eighth Experiments; or in
+Light trajected through parallel Superficies, destroying each others
+Effects, as in the tenth Experiment; there are always found Rays, which
+at equal Incidences on the same Medium suffer unequal Refractions, and
+that without any splitting or dilating of single Rays, or contingence in
+the inequality of the Refractions, as is proved in the fifth and sixth
+Experiments. And seeing the Rays which differ in Refrangibility may be
+parted and sorted from one another, and that either by Refraction as in
+the third Experiment, or by Reflexion as in the tenth, and then the
+several sorts apart at equal Incidences suffer unequal Refractions, and
+those sorts are more refracted than others after Separation, which were
+more refracted before it, as in the sixth and following Experiments, and
+if the Sun's Light be trajected through three or more cross Prisms
+successively, those Rays which in the first Prism are refracted more
+than others, are in all the following Prisms refracted more than others
+in the same Rate and Proportion, as appears by the fifth Experiment;
+it's manifest that the Sun's Light is an heterogeneous Mixture of Rays,
+some of which are constantly more refrangible than others, as was
+proposed.
+
+
+_PROP._ III. THEOR. III.
+
+_The Sun's Light consists of Rays differing in Reflexibility, and those
+Rays are more reflexible than others which are more refrangible._
+
+This is manifest by the ninth and tenth Experiments: For in the ninth
+Experiment, by turning the Prism about its Axis, until the Rays within
+it which in going out into the Air were refracted by its Base, became so
+oblique to that Base, as to begin to be totally reflected thereby; those
+Rays became first of all totally reflected, which before at equal
+Incidences with the rest had suffered the greatest Refraction. And the
+same thing happens in the Reflexion made by the common Base of the two
+Prisms in the tenth Experiment.
+
+
+_PROP._ IV. PROB. I.
+
+_To separate from one another the heterogeneous Rays of compound Light._
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 23.]
+
+The heterogeneous Rays are in some measure separated from one another by
+the Refraction of the Prism in the third Experiment, and in the fifth
+Experiment, by taking away the Penumbra from the rectilinear sides of
+the coloured Image, that Separation in those very rectilinear sides or
+straight edges of the Image becomes perfect. But in all places between
+those rectilinear edges, those innumerable Circles there described,
+which are severally illuminated by homogeneal Rays, by interfering with
+one another, and being every where commix'd, do render the Light
+sufficiently compound. But if these Circles, whilst their Centers keep
+their Distances and Positions, could be made less in Diameter, their
+interfering one with another, and by Consequence the Mixture of the
+heterogeneous Rays would be proportionally diminish'd. In the twenty
+third Figure let AG, BH, CJ, DK, EL, FM be the Circles which so many
+sorts of Rays flowing from the same disque of the Sun, do in the third
+Experiment illuminate; of all which and innumerable other intermediate
+ones lying in a continual Series between the two rectilinear and
+parallel edges of the Sun's oblong Image PT, that Image is compos'd, as
+was explained in the fifth Experiment. And let _ag_, _bh_, _ci_, _dk_,
+_el_, _fm_ be so many less Circles lying in a like continual Series
+between two parallel right Lines _af_ and _gm_ with the same distances
+between their Centers, and illuminated by the same sorts of Rays, that
+is the Circle _ag_ with the same sort by which the corresponding Circle
+AG was illuminated, and the Circle _bh_ with the same sort by which the
+corresponding Circle BH was illuminated, and the rest of the Circles
+_ci_, _dk_, _el_, _fm_ respectively, with the same sorts of Rays by
+which the several corresponding Circles CJ, DK, EL, FM were illuminated.
+In the Figure PT composed of the greater Circles, three of those Circles
+AG, BH, CJ, are so expanded into one another, that the three sorts of
+Rays by which those Circles are illuminated, together with other
+innumerable sorts of intermediate Rays, are mixed at QR in the middle
+of the Circle BH. And the like Mixture happens throughout almost the
+whole length of the Figure PT. But in the Figure _pt_ composed of the
+less Circles, the three less Circles _ag_, _bh_, _ci_, which answer to
+those three greater, do not extend into one another; nor are there any
+where mingled so much as any two of the three sorts of Rays by which
+those Circles are illuminated, and which in the Figure PT are all of
+them intermingled at BH.
+
+Now he that shall thus consider it, will easily understand that the
+Mixture is diminished in the same Proportion with the Diameters of the
+Circles. If the Diameters of the Circles whilst their Centers remain the
+same, be made three times less than before, the Mixture will be also
+three times less; if ten times less, the Mixture will be ten times less,
+and so of other Proportions. That is, the Mixture of the Rays in the
+greater Figure PT will be to their Mixture in the less _pt_, as the
+Latitude of the greater Figure is to the Latitude of the less. For the
+Latitudes of these Figures are equal to the Diameters of their Circles.
+And hence it easily follows, that the Mixture of the Rays in the
+refracted Spectrum _pt_ is to the Mixture of the Rays in the direct and
+immediate Light of the Sun, as the breadth of that Spectrum is to the
+difference between the length and breadth of the same Spectrum.
+
+So then, if we would diminish the Mixture of the Rays, we are to
+diminish the Diameters of the Circles. Now these would be diminished if
+the Sun's Diameter to which they answer could be made less than it is,
+or (which comes to the same Purpose) if without Doors, at a great
+distance from the Prism towards the Sun, some opake Body were placed,
+with a round hole in the middle of it, to intercept all the Sun's Light,
+excepting so much as coming from the middle of his Body could pass
+through that Hole to the Prism. For so the Circles AG, BH, and the rest,
+would not any longer answer to the whole Disque of the Sun, but only to
+that Part of it which could be seen from the Prism through that Hole,
+that it is to the apparent Magnitude of that Hole view'd from the Prism.
+But that these Circles may answer more distinctly to that Hole, a Lens
+is to be placed by the Prism to cast the Image of the Hole, (that is,
+every one of the Circles AG, BH, &c.) distinctly upon the Paper at PT,
+after such a manner, as by a Lens placed at a Window, the Species of
+Objects abroad are cast distinctly upon a Paper within the Room, and the
+rectilinear Sides of the oblong Solar Image in the fifth Experiment
+became distinct without any Penumbra. If this be done, it will not be
+necessary to place that Hole very far off, no not beyond the Window. And
+therefore instead of that Hole, I used the Hole in the Window-shut, as
+follows.
+
+_Exper._ 11. In the Sun's Light let into my darken'd Chamber through a
+small round Hole in my Window-shut, at about ten or twelve Feet from the
+Window, I placed a Lens, by which the Image of the Hole might be
+distinctly cast upon a Sheet of white Paper, placed at the distance of
+six, eight, ten, or twelve Feet from the Lens. For, according to the
+difference of the Lenses I used various distances, which I think not
+worth the while to describe. Then immediately after the Lens I placed a
+Prism, by which the trajected Light might be refracted either upwards or
+sideways, and thereby the round Image, which the Lens alone did cast
+upon the Paper might be drawn out into a long one with Parallel Sides,
+as in the third Experiment. This oblong Image I let fall upon another
+Paper at about the same distance from the Prism as before, moving the
+Paper either towards the Prism or from it, until I found the just
+distance where the Rectilinear Sides of the Image became most distinct.
+For in this Case, the Circular Images of the Hole, which compose that
+Image after the same manner that the Circles _ag_, _bh_, _ci_, &c. do
+the Figure _pt_ [in _Fig._ 23.] were terminated most distinctly without
+any Penumbra, and therefore extended into one another the least that
+they could, and by consequence the Mixture of the heterogeneous Rays was
+now the least of all. By this means I used to form an oblong Image (such
+as is _pt_) [in _Fig._ 23, and 24.] of Circular Images of the Hole,
+(such as are _ag_, _bh_, _ci_, &c.) and by using a greater or less Hole
+in the Window-shut, I made the Circular Images _ag_, _bh_, _ci_, &c. of
+which it was formed, to become greater or less at pleasure, and thereby
+the Mixture of the Rays in the Image _pt_ to be as much, or as little as
+I desired.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 24.]
+
+_Illustration._ In the twenty-fourth Figure, F represents the Circular
+Hole in the Window-shut, MN the Lens, whereby the Image or Species of
+that Hole is cast distinctly upon a Paper at J, ABC the Prism, whereby
+the Rays are at their emerging out of the Lens refracted from J towards
+another Paper at _pt_, and the round Image at J is turned into an oblong
+Image _pt_ falling on that other Paper. This Image _pt_ consists of
+Circles placed one after another in a Rectilinear Order, as was
+sufficiently explained in the fifth Experiment; and these Circles are
+equal to the Circle J, and consequently answer in magnitude to the Hole
+F; and therefore by diminishing that Hole they may be at pleasure
+diminished, whilst their Centers remain in their Places. By this means I
+made the Breadth of the Image _pt_ to be forty times, and sometimes
+sixty or seventy times less than its Length. As for instance, if the
+Breadth of the Hole F be one tenth of an Inch, and MF the distance of
+the Lens from the Hole be 12 Feet; and if _p_B or _p_M the distance of
+the Image _pt_ from the Prism or Lens be 10 Feet, and the refracting
+Angle of the Prism be 62 Degrees, the Breadth of the Image _pt_ will be
+one twelfth of an Inch, and the Length about six Inches, and therefore
+the Length to the Breadth as 72 to 1, and by consequence the Light of
+this Image 71 times less compound than the Sun's direct Light. And Light
+thus far simple and homogeneal, is sufficient for trying all the
+Experiments in this Book about simple Light. For the Composition of
+heterogeneal Rays is in this Light so little, that it is scarce to be
+discovered and perceiv'd by Sense, except perhaps in the indigo and
+violet. For these being dark Colours do easily suffer a sensible Allay
+by that little scattering Light which uses to be refracted irregularly
+by the Inequalities of the Prism.
+
+Yet instead of the Circular Hole F, 'tis better to substitute an oblong
+Hole shaped like a long Parallelogram with its Length parallel to the
+Prism ABC. For if this Hole be an Inch or two long, and but a tenth or
+twentieth Part of an Inch broad, or narrower; the Light of the Image
+_pt_ will be as simple as before, or simpler, and the Image will become
+much broader, and therefore more fit to have Experiments try'd in its
+Light than before.
+
+Instead of this Parallelogram Hole may be substituted a triangular one
+of equal Sides, whose Base, for instance, is about the tenth Part of an
+Inch, and its Height an Inch or more. For by this means, if the Axis of
+the Prism be parallel to the Perpendicular of the Triangle, the Image
+_pt_ [in _Fig._ 25.] will now be form'd of equicrural Triangles _ag_,
+_bh_, _ci_, _dk_, _el_, _fm_, &c. and innumerable other intermediate
+ones answering to the triangular Hole in Shape and Bigness, and lying
+one after another in a continual Series between two Parallel Lines _af_
+and _gm_. These Triangles are a little intermingled at their Bases, but
+not at their Vertices; and therefore the Light on the brighter Side _af_
+of the Image, where the Bases of the Triangles are, is a little
+compounded, but on the darker Side _gm_ is altogether uncompounded, and
+in all Places between the Sides the Composition is proportional to the
+distances of the Places from that obscurer Side _gm_. And having a
+Spectrum _pt_ of such a Composition, we may try Experiments either in
+its stronger and less simple Light near the Side _af_, or in its weaker
+and simpler Light near the other Side _gm_, as it shall seem most
+convenient.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 25.]
+
+But in making Experiments of this kind, the Chamber ought to be made as
+dark as can be, lest any Foreign Light mingle it self with the Light of
+the Spectrum _pt_, and render it compound; especially if we would try
+Experiments in the more simple Light next the Side _gm_ of the Spectrum;
+which being fainter, will have a less proportion to the Foreign Light;
+and so by the mixture of that Light be more troubled, and made more
+compound. The Lens also ought to be good, such as may serve for optical
+Uses, and the Prism ought to have a large Angle, suppose of 65 or 70
+Degrees, and to be well wrought, being made of Glass free from Bubbles
+and Veins, with its Sides not a little convex or concave, as usually
+happens, but truly plane, and its Polish elaborate, as in working
+Optick-glasses, and not such as is usually wrought with Putty, whereby
+the edges of the Sand-holes being worn away, there are left all over the
+Glass a numberless Company of very little convex polite Risings like
+Waves. The edges also of the Prism and Lens, so far as they may make any
+irregular Refraction, must be covered with a black Paper glewed on. And
+all the Light of the Sun's Beam let into the Chamber, which is useless
+and unprofitable to the Experiment, ought to be intercepted with black
+Paper, or other black Obstacles. For otherwise the useless Light being
+reflected every way in the Chamber, will mix with the oblong Spectrum,
+and help to disturb it. In trying these Things, so much diligence is not
+altogether necessary, but it will promote the Success of the
+Experiments, and by a very scrupulous Examiner of Things deserves to be
+apply'd. It's difficult to get Glass Prisms fit for this Purpose, and
+therefore I used sometimes prismatick Vessels made with pieces of broken
+Looking-glasses, and filled with Rain Water. And to increase the
+Refraction, I sometimes impregnated the Water strongly with _Saccharum
+Saturni_.
+
+
+_PROP._ V. THEOR. IV.
+
+_Homogeneal Light is refracted regularly without any Dilatation
+splitting or shattering of the Rays, and the confused Vision of Objects
+seen through refracting Bodies by heterogeneal Light arises from the
+different Refrangibility of several sorts of Rays._
+
+The first Part of this Proposition has been already sufficiently proved
+in the fifth Experiment, and will farther appear by the Experiments
+which follow.
+
+_Exper._ 12. In the middle of a black Paper I made a round Hole about a
+fifth or sixth Part of an Inch in diameter. Upon this Paper I caused the
+Spectrum of homogeneal Light described in the former Proposition, so to
+fall, that some part of the Light might pass through the Hole of the
+Paper. This transmitted part of the Light I refracted with a Prism
+placed behind the Paper, and letting this refracted Light fall
+perpendicularly upon a white Paper two or three Feet distant from the
+Prism, I found that the Spectrum formed on the Paper by this Light was
+not oblong, as when 'tis made (in the third Experiment) by refracting
+the Sun's compound Light, but was (so far as I could judge by my Eye)
+perfectly circular, the Length being no greater than the Breadth. Which
+shews, that this Light is refracted regularly without any Dilatation of
+the Rays.
+
+_Exper._ 13. In the homogeneal Light I placed a Paper Circle of a
+quarter of an Inch in diameter, and in the Sun's unrefracted
+heterogeneal white Light I placed another Paper Circle of the same
+Bigness. And going from the Papers to the distance of some Feet, I
+viewed both Circles through a Prism. The Circle illuminated by the Sun's
+heterogeneal Light appeared very oblong, as in the fourth Experiment,
+the Length being many times greater than the Breadth; but the other
+Circle, illuminated with homogeneal Light, appeared circular and
+distinctly defined, as when 'tis view'd with the naked Eye. Which proves
+the whole Proposition.
+
+_Exper._ 14. In the homogeneal Light I placed Flies, and such-like
+minute Objects, and viewing them through a Prism, I saw their Parts as
+distinctly defined, as if I had viewed them with the naked Eye. The same
+Objects placed in the Sun's unrefracted heterogeneal Light, which was
+white, I viewed also through a Prism, and saw them most confusedly
+defined, so that I could not distinguish their smaller Parts from one
+another. I placed also the Letters of a small print, one while in the
+homogeneal Light, and then in the heterogeneal, and viewing them through
+a Prism, they appeared in the latter Case so confused and indistinct,
+that I could not read them; but in the former they appeared so distinct,
+that I could read readily, and thought I saw them as distinct, as when I
+view'd them with my naked Eye. In both Cases I view'd the same Objects,
+through the same Prism at the same distance from me, and in the same
+Situation. There was no difference, but in the Light by which the
+Objects were illuminated, and which in one Case was simple, and in the
+other compound; and therefore, the distinct Vision in the former Case,
+and confused in the latter, could arise from nothing else than from that
+difference of the Lights. Which proves the whole Proposition.
+
+And in these three Experiments it is farther very remarkable, that the
+Colour of homogeneal Light was never changed by the Refraction.
+
+
+_PROP._ VI. THEOR. V.
+
+_The Sine of Incidence of every Ray considered apart, is to its Sine of
+Refraction in a given Ratio._
+
+That every Ray consider'd apart, is constant to it self in some degree
+of Refrangibility, is sufficiently manifest out of what has been said.
+Those Rays, which in the first Refraction, are at equal Incidences most
+refracted, are also in the following Refractions at equal Incidences
+most refracted; and so of the least refrangible, and the rest which have
+any mean Degree of Refrangibility, as is manifest by the fifth, sixth,
+seventh, eighth, and ninth Experiments. And those which the first Time
+at like Incidences are equally refracted, are again at like Incidences
+equally and uniformly refracted, and that whether they be refracted
+before they be separated from one another, as in the fifth Experiment,
+or whether they be refracted apart, as in the twelfth, thirteenth and
+fourteenth Experiments. The Refraction therefore of every Ray apart is
+regular, and what Rule that Refraction observes we are now to shew.[E]
+
+The late Writers in Opticks teach, that the Sines of Incidence are in a
+given Proportion to the Sines of Refraction, as was explained in the
+fifth Axiom, and some by Instruments fitted for measuring of
+Refractions, or otherwise experimentally examining this Proportion, do
+acquaint us that they have found it accurate. But whilst they, not
+understanding the different Refrangibility of several Rays, conceived
+them all to be refracted according to one and the same Proportion, 'tis
+to be presumed that they adapted their Measures only to the middle of
+the refracted Light; so that from their Measures we may conclude only
+that the Rays which have a mean Degree of Refrangibility, that is, those
+which when separated from the rest appear green, are refracted according
+to a given Proportion of their Sines. And therefore we are now to shew,
+that the like given Proportions obtain in all the rest. That it should
+be so is very reasonable, Nature being ever conformable to her self; but
+an experimental Proof is desired. And such a Proof will be had, if we
+can shew that the Sines of Refraction of Rays differently refrangible
+are one to another in a given Proportion when their Sines of Incidence
+are equal. For, if the Sines of Refraction of all the Rays are in given
+Proportions to the Sine of Refractions of a Ray which has a mean Degree
+of Refrangibility, and this Sine is in a given Proportion to the equal
+Sines of Incidence, those other Sines of Refraction will also be in
+given Proportions to the equal Sines of Incidence. Now, when the Sines
+of Incidence are equal, it will appear by the following Experiment, that
+the Sines of Refraction are in a given Proportion to one another.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 26.]
+
+_Exper._ 15. The Sun shining into a dark Chamber through a little round
+Hole in the Window-shut, let S [in _Fig._ 26.] represent his round white
+Image painted on the opposite Wall by his direct Light, PT his oblong
+coloured Image made by refracting that Light with a Prism placed at the
+Window; and _pt_, or _2p 2t_, _3p 3t_, his oblong colour'd Image made by
+refracting again the same Light sideways with a second Prism placed
+immediately after the first in a cross Position to it, as was explained
+in the fifth Experiment; that is to say, _pt_ when the Refraction of the
+second Prism is small, _2p 2t_ when its Refraction is greater, and _3p
+3t_ when it is greatest. For such will be the diversity of the
+Refractions, if the refracting Angle of the second Prism be of various
+Magnitudes; suppose of fifteen or twenty Degrees to make the Image _pt_,
+of thirty or forty to make the Image _2p 2t_, and of sixty to make the
+Image _3p 3t_. But for want of solid Glass Prisms with Angles of
+convenient Bignesses, there may be Vessels made of polished Plates of
+Glass cemented together in the form of Prisms and filled with Water.
+These things being thus ordered, I observed that all the solar Images or
+coloured Spectrums PT, _pt_, _2p 2t_, _3p 3t_ did very nearly converge
+to the place S on which the direct Light of the Sun fell and painted his
+white round Image when the Prisms were taken away. The Axis of the
+Spectrum PT, that is the Line drawn through the middle of it parallel to
+its rectilinear Sides, did when produced pass exactly through the middle
+of that white round Image S. And when the Refraction of the second Prism
+was equal to the Refraction of the first, the refracting Angles of them
+both being about 60 Degrees, the Axis of the Spectrum _3p 3t_ made by
+that Refraction, did when produced pass also through the middle of the
+same white round Image S. But when the Refraction of the second Prism
+was less than that of the first, the produced Axes of the Spectrums _tp_
+or _2t 2p_ made by that Refraction did cut the produced Axis of the
+Spectrum TP in the points _m_ and _n_, a little beyond the Center of
+that white round Image S. Whence the proportion of the Line 3_t_T to the
+Line 3_p_P was a little greater than the Proportion of 2_t_T or 2_p_P,
+and this Proportion a little greater than that of _t_T to _p_P. Now when
+the Light of the Spectrum PT falls perpendicularly upon the Wall, those
+Lines 3_t_T, 3_p_P, and 2_t_T, and 2_p_P, and _t_T, _p_P, are the
+Tangents of the Refractions, and therefore by this Experiment the
+Proportions of the Tangents of the Refractions are obtained, from whence
+the Proportions of the Sines being derived, they come out equal, so far
+as by viewing the Spectrums, and using some mathematical Reasoning I
+could estimate. For I did not make an accurate Computation. So then the
+Proposition holds true in every Ray apart, so far as appears by
+Experiment. And that it is accurately true, may be demonstrated upon
+this Supposition. _That Bodies refract Light by acting upon its Rays in
+Lines perpendicular to their Surfaces._ But in order to this
+Demonstration, I must distinguish the Motion of every Ray into two
+Motions, the one perpendicular to the refracting Surface, the other
+parallel to it, and concerning the perpendicular Motion lay down the
+following Proposition.
+
+If any Motion or moving thing whatsoever be incident with any Velocity
+on any broad and thin space terminated on both sides by two parallel
+Planes, and in its Passage through that space be urged perpendicularly
+towards the farther Plane by any force which at given distances from the
+Plane is of given Quantities; the perpendicular velocity of that Motion
+or Thing, at its emerging out of that space, shall be always equal to
+the square Root of the sum of the square of the perpendicular velocity
+of that Motion or Thing at its Incidence on that space; and of the
+square of the perpendicular velocity which that Motion or Thing would
+have at its Emergence, if at its Incidence its perpendicular velocity
+was infinitely little.
+
+And the same Proposition holds true of any Motion or Thing
+perpendicularly retarded in its passage through that space, if instead
+of the sum of the two Squares you take their difference. The
+Demonstration Mathematicians will easily find out, and therefore I shall
+not trouble the Reader with it.
+
+Suppose now that a Ray coming most obliquely in the Line MC [in _Fig._
+1.] be refracted at C by the Plane RS into the Line CN, and if it be
+required to find the Line CE, into which any other Ray AC shall be
+refracted; let MC, AD, be the Sines of Incidence of the two Rays, and
+NG, EF, their Sines of Refraction, and let the equal Motions of the
+incident Rays be represented by the equal Lines MC and AC, and the
+Motion MC being considered as parallel to the refracting Plane, let the
+other Motion AC be distinguished into two Motions AD and DC, one of
+which AD is parallel, and the other DC perpendicular to the refracting
+Surface. In like manner, let the Motions of the emerging Rays be
+distinguish'd into two, whereof the perpendicular ones are MC/NG × CG
+and AD/EF × CF. And if the force of the refracting Plane begins to act
+upon the Rays either in that Plane or at a certain distance from it on
+the one side, and ends at a certain distance from it on the other side,
+and in all places between those two limits acts upon the Rays in Lines
+perpendicular to that refracting Plane, and the Actions upon the Rays at
+equal distances from the refracting Plane be equal, and at unequal ones
+either equal or unequal according to any rate whatever; that Motion of
+the Ray which is parallel to the refracting Plane, will suffer no
+Alteration by that Force; and that Motion which is perpendicular to it
+will be altered according to the rule of the foregoing Proposition. If
+therefore for the perpendicular velocity of the emerging Ray CN you
+write MC/NG × CG as above, then the perpendicular velocity of any other
+emerging Ray CE which was AD/EF × CF, will be equal to the square Root
+of CD_q_ + (_MCq/NGq_ × CG_q_). And by squaring these Equals, and adding
+to them the Equals AD_q_ and MC_q_ - CD_q_, and dividing the Sums by the
+Equals CF_q_ + EF_q_ and CG_q_ + NG_q_, you will have _MCq/NGq_ equal to
+_ADq/EFq_. Whence AD, the Sine of Incidence, is to EF the Sine of
+Refraction, as MC to NG, that is, in a given _ratio_. And this
+Demonstration being general, without determining what Light is, or by
+what kind of Force it is refracted, or assuming any thing farther than
+that the refracting Body acts upon the Rays in Lines perpendicular to
+its Surface; I take it to be a very convincing Argument of the full
+truth of this Proposition.
+
+So then, if the _ratio_ of the Sines of Incidence and Refraction of any
+sort of Rays be found in any one case, 'tis given in all cases; and this
+may be readily found by the Method in the following Proposition.
+
+
+_PROP._ VII. THEOR. VI.
+
+_The Perfection of Telescopes is impeded by the different Refrangibility
+of the Rays of Light._
+
+The Imperfection of Telescopes is vulgarly attributed to the spherical
+Figures of the Glasses, and therefore Mathematicians have propounded to
+figure them by the conical Sections. To shew that they are mistaken, I
+have inserted this Proposition; the truth of which will appear by the
+measure of the Refractions of the several sorts of Rays; and these
+measures I thus determine.
+
+In the third Experiment of this first Part, where the refracting Angle
+of the Prism was 62-1/2 Degrees, the half of that Angle 31 deg. 15 min.
+is the Angle of Incidence of the Rays at their going out of the Glass
+into the Air[F]; and the Sine of this Angle is 5188, the Radius being
+10000. When the Axis of this Prism was parallel to the Horizon, and the
+Refraction of the Rays at their Incidence on this Prism equal to that at
+their Emergence out of it, I observed with a Quadrant the Angle which
+the mean refrangible Rays, (that is those which went to the middle of
+the Sun's coloured Image) made with the Horizon, and by this Angle and
+the Sun's altitude observed at the same time, I found the Angle which
+the emergent Rays contained with the incident to be 44 deg. and 40 min.
+and the half of this Angle added to the Angle of Incidence 31 deg. 15
+min. makes the Angle of Refraction, which is therefore 53 deg. 35 min.
+and its Sine 8047. These are the Sines of Incidence and Refraction of
+the mean refrangible Rays, and their Proportion in round Numbers is 20
+to 31. This Glass was of a Colour inclining to green. The last of the
+Prisms mentioned in the third Experiment was of clear white Glass. Its
+refracting Angle 63-1/2 Degrees. The Angle which the emergent Rays
+contained, with the incident 45 deg. 50 min. The Sine of half the first
+Angle 5262. The Sine of half the Sum of the Angles 8157. And their
+Proportion in round Numbers 20 to 31, as before.
+
+From the Length of the Image, which was about 9-3/4 or 10 Inches,
+subduct its Breadth, which was 2-1/8 Inches, and the Remainder 7-3/4
+Inches would be the Length of the Image were the Sun but a Point, and
+therefore subtends the Angle which the most and least refrangible Rays,
+when incident on the Prism in the same Lines, do contain with one
+another after their Emergence. Whence this Angle is 2 deg. 0´. 7´´. For
+the distance between the Image and the Prism where this Angle is made,
+was 18-1/2 Feet, and at that distance the Chord 7-3/4 Inches subtends an
+Angle of 2 deg. 0´. 7´´. Now half this Angle is the Angle which these
+emergent Rays contain with the emergent mean refrangible Rays, and a
+quarter thereof, that is 30´. 2´´. may be accounted the Angle which they
+would contain with the same emergent mean refrangible Rays, were they
+co-incident to them within the Glass, and suffered no other Refraction
+than that at their Emergence. For, if two equal Refractions, the one at
+the Incidence of the Rays on the Prism, the other at their Emergence,
+make half the Angle 2 deg. 0´. 7´´. then one of those Refractions will
+make about a quarter of that Angle, and this quarter added to, and
+subducted from the Angle of Refraction of the mean refrangible Rays,
+which was 53 deg. 35´, gives the Angles of Refraction of the most and
+least refrangible Rays 54 deg. 5´ 2´´, and 53 deg. 4´ 58´´, whose Sines
+are 8099 and 7995, the common Angle of Incidence being 31 deg. 15´, and
+its Sine 5188; and these Sines in the least round Numbers are in
+proportion to one another, as 78 and 77 to 50.
+
+Now, if you subduct the common Sine of Incidence 50 from the Sines of
+Refraction 77 and 78, the Remainders 27 and 28 shew, that in small
+Refractions the Refraction of the least refrangible Rays is to the
+Refraction of the most refrangible ones, as 27 to 28 very nearly, and
+that the difference of the Refractions of the least refrangible and most
+refrangible Rays is about the 27-1/2th Part of the whole Refraction of
+the mean refrangible Rays.
+
+Whence they that are skilled in Opticks will easily understand,[G] that
+the Breadth of the least circular Space, into which Object-glasses of
+Telescopes can collect all sorts of Parallel Rays, is about the 27-1/2th
+Part of half the Aperture of the Glass, or 55th Part of the whole
+Aperture; and that the Focus of the most refrangible Rays is nearer to
+the Object-glass than the Focus of the least refrangible ones, by about
+the 27-1/2th Part of the distance between the Object-glass and the Focus
+of the mean refrangible ones.
+
+And if Rays of all sorts, flowing from any one lucid Point in the Axis
+of any convex Lens, be made by the Refraction of the Lens to converge to
+Points not too remote from the Lens, the Focus of the most refrangible
+Rays shall be nearer to the Lens than the Focus of the least refrangible
+ones, by a distance which is to the 27-1/2th Part of the distance of the
+Focus of the mean refrangible Rays from the Lens, as the distance
+between that Focus and the lucid Point, from whence the Rays flow, is to
+the distance between that lucid Point and the Lens very nearly.
+
+Now to examine whether the Difference between the Refractions, which the
+most refrangible and the least refrangible Rays flowing from the same
+Point suffer in the Object-glasses of Telescopes and such-like Glasses,
+be so great as is here described, I contrived the following Experiment.
+
+_Exper._ 16. The Lens which I used in the second and eighth Experiments,
+being placed six Feet and an Inch distant from any Object, collected the
+Species of that Object by the mean refrangible Rays at the distance of
+six Feet and an Inch from the Lens on the other side. And therefore by
+the foregoing Rule, it ought to collect the Species of that Object by
+the least refrangible Rays at the distance of six Feet and 3-2/3 Inches
+from the Lens, and by the most refrangible ones at the distance of five
+Feet and 10-1/3 Inches from it: So that between the two Places, where
+these least and most refrangible Rays collect the Species, there may be
+the distance of about 5-1/3 Inches. For by that Rule, as six Feet and an
+Inch (the distance of the Lens from the lucid Object) is to twelve Feet
+and two Inches (the distance of the lucid Object from the Focus of the
+mean refrangible Rays) that is, as One is to Two; so is the 27-1/2th
+Part of six Feet and an Inch (the distance between the Lens and the same
+Focus) to the distance between the Focus of the most refrangible Rays
+and the Focus of the least refrangible ones, which is therefore 5-17/55
+Inches, that is very nearly 5-1/3 Inches. Now to know whether this
+Measure was true, I repeated the second and eighth Experiment with
+coloured Light, which was less compounded than that I there made use of:
+For I now separated the heterogeneous Rays from one another by the
+Method I described in the eleventh Experiment, so as to make a coloured
+Spectrum about twelve or fifteen Times longer than broad. This Spectrum
+I cast on a printed Book, and placing the above-mentioned Lens at the
+distance of six Feet and an Inch from this Spectrum to collect the
+Species of the illuminated Letters at the same distance on the other
+side, I found that the Species of the Letters illuminated with blue were
+nearer to the Lens than those illuminated with deep red by about three
+Inches, or three and a quarter; but the Species of the Letters
+illuminated with indigo and violet appeared so confused and indistinct,
+that I could not read them: Whereupon viewing the Prism, I found it was
+full of Veins running from one end of the Glass to the other; so that
+the Refraction could not be regular. I took another Prism therefore
+which was free from Veins, and instead of the Letters I used two or
+three Parallel black Lines a little broader than the Strokes of the
+Letters, and casting the Colours upon these Lines in such manner, that
+the Lines ran along the Colours from one end of the Spectrum to the
+other, I found that the Focus where the indigo, or confine of this
+Colour and violet cast the Species of the black Lines most distinctly,
+to be about four Inches, or 4-1/4 nearer to the Lens than the Focus,
+where the deepest red cast the Species of the same black Lines most
+distinctly. The violet was so faint and dark, that I could not discern
+the Species of the Lines distinctly by that Colour; and therefore
+considering that the Prism was made of a dark coloured Glass inclining
+to green, I took another Prism of clear white Glass; but the Spectrum of
+Colours which this Prism made had long white Streams of faint Light
+shooting out from both ends of the Colours, which made me conclude that
+something was amiss; and viewing the Prism, I found two or three little
+Bubbles in the Glass, which refracted the Light irregularly. Wherefore I
+covered that Part of the Glass with black Paper, and letting the Light
+pass through another Part of it which was free from such Bubbles, the
+Spectrum of Colours became free from those irregular Streams of Light,
+and was now such as I desired. But still I found the violet so dark and
+faint, that I could scarce see the Species of the Lines by the violet,
+and not at all by the deepest Part of it, which was next the end of the
+Spectrum. I suspected therefore, that this faint and dark Colour might
+be allayed by that scattering Light which was refracted, and reflected
+irregularly, partly by some very small Bubbles in the Glasses, and
+partly by the Inequalities of their Polish; which Light, tho' it was but
+little, yet it being of a white Colour, might suffice to affect the
+Sense so strongly as to disturb the Phænomena of that weak and dark
+Colour the violet, and therefore I tried, as in the 12th, 13th, and 14th
+Experiments, whether the Light of this Colour did not consist of a
+sensible Mixture of heterogeneous Rays, but found it did not. Nor did
+the Refractions cause any other sensible Colour than violet to emerge
+out of this Light, as they would have done out of white Light, and by
+consequence out of this violet Light had it been sensibly compounded
+with white Light. And therefore I concluded, that the reason why I could
+not see the Species of the Lines distinctly by this Colour, was only
+the Darkness of this Colour, and Thinness of its Light, and its distance
+from the Axis of the Lens; I divided therefore those Parallel black
+Lines into equal Parts, by which I might readily know the distances of
+the Colours in the Spectrum from one another, and noted the distances of
+the Lens from the Foci of such Colours, as cast the Species of the Lines
+distinctly, and then considered whether the difference of those
+distances bear such proportion to 5-1/3 Inches, the greatest Difference
+of the distances, which the Foci of the deepest red and violet ought to
+have from the Lens, as the distance of the observed Colours from one
+another in the Spectrum bear to the greatest distance of the deepest red
+and violet measured in the Rectilinear Sides of the Spectrum, that is,
+to the Length of those Sides, or Excess of the Length of the Spectrum
+above its Breadth. And my Observations were as follows.
+
+When I observed and compared the deepest sensible red, and the Colour in
+the Confine of green and blue, which at the Rectilinear Sides of the
+Spectrum was distant from it half the Length of those Sides, the Focus
+where the Confine of green and blue cast the Species of the Lines
+distinctly on the Paper, was nearer to the Lens than the Focus, where
+the red cast those Lines distinctly on it by about 2-1/2 or 2-3/4
+Inches. For sometimes the Measures were a little greater, sometimes a
+little less, but seldom varied from one another above 1/3 of an Inch.
+For it was very difficult to define the Places of the Foci, without some
+little Errors. Now, if the Colours distant half the Length of the
+Image, (measured at its Rectilinear Sides) give 2-1/2 or 2-3/4
+Difference of the distances of their Foci from the Lens, then the
+Colours distant the whole Length ought to give 5 or 5-1/2 Inches
+difference of those distances.
+
+But here it's to be noted, that I could not see the red to the full end
+of the Spectrum, but only to the Center of the Semicircle which bounded
+that end, or a little farther; and therefore I compared this red not
+with that Colour which was exactly in the middle of the Spectrum, or
+Confine of green and blue, but with that which verged a little more to
+the blue than to the green: And as I reckoned the whole Length of the
+Colours not to be the whole Length of the Spectrum, but the Length of
+its Rectilinear Sides, so compleating the semicircular Ends into
+Circles, when either of the observed Colours fell within those Circles,
+I measured the distance of that Colour from the semicircular End of the
+Spectrum, and subducting half this distance from the measured distance
+of the two Colours, I took the Remainder for their corrected distance;
+and in these Observations set down this corrected distance for the
+difference of the distances of their Foci from the Lens. For, as the
+Length of the Rectilinear Sides of the Spectrum would be the whole
+Length of all the Colours, were the Circles of which (as we shewed) that
+Spectrum consists contracted and reduced to Physical Points, so in that
+Case this corrected distance would be the real distance of the two
+observed Colours.
+
+When therefore I farther observed the deepest sensible red, and that
+blue whose corrected distance from it was 7/12 Parts of the Length of
+the Rectilinear Sides of the Spectrum, the difference of the distances
+of their Foci from the Lens was about 3-1/4 Inches, and as 7 to 12, so
+is 3-1/4 to 5-4/7.
+
+When I observed the deepest sensible red, and that indigo whose
+corrected distance was 8/12 or 2/3 of the Length of the Rectilinear
+Sides of the Spectrum, the difference of the distances of their Foci
+from the Lens, was about 3-2/3 Inches, and as 2 to 3, so is 3-2/3 to
+5-1/2.
+
+When I observed the deepest sensible red, and that deep indigo whose
+corrected distance from one another was 9/12 or 3/4 of the Length of the
+Rectilinear Sides of the Spectrum, the difference of the distances of
+their Foci from the Lens was about 4 Inches; and as 3 to 4, so is 4 to
+5-1/3.
+
+When I observed the deepest sensible red, and that Part of the violet
+next the indigo, whose corrected distance from the red was 10/12 or 5/6
+of the Length of the Rectilinear Sides of the Spectrum, the difference
+of the distances of their Foci from the Lens was about 4-1/2 Inches, and
+as 5 to 6, so is 4-1/2 to 5-2/5. For sometimes, when the Lens was
+advantageously placed, so that its Axis respected the blue, and all
+Things else were well ordered, and the Sun shone clear, and I held my
+Eye very near to the Paper on which the Lens cast the Species of the
+Lines, I could see pretty distinctly the Species of those Lines by that
+Part of the violet which was next the indigo; and sometimes I could see
+them by above half the violet, For in making these Experiments I had
+observed, that the Species of those Colours only appear distinct, which
+were in or near the Axis of the Lens: So that if the blue or indigo were
+in the Axis, I could see their Species distinctly; and then the red
+appeared much less distinct than before. Wherefore I contrived to make
+the Spectrum of Colours shorter than before, so that both its Ends might
+be nearer to the Axis of the Lens. And now its Length was about 2-1/2
+Inches, and Breadth about 1/5 or 1/6 of an Inch. Also instead of the
+black Lines on which the Spectrum was cast, I made one black Line
+broader than those, that I might see its Species more easily; and this
+Line I divided by short cross Lines into equal Parts, for measuring the
+distances of the observed Colours. And now I could sometimes see the
+Species of this Line with its Divisions almost as far as the Center of
+the semicircular violet End of the Spectrum, and made these farther
+Observations.
+
+When I observed the deepest sensible red, and that Part of the violet,
+whose corrected distance from it was about 8/9 Parts of the Rectilinear
+Sides of the Spectrum, the Difference of the distances of the Foci of
+those Colours from the Lens, was one time 4-2/3, another time 4-3/4,
+another time 4-7/8 Inches; and as 8 to 9, so are 4-2/3, 4-3/4, 4-7/8, to
+5-1/4, 5-11/32, 5-31/64 respectively.
+
+When I observed the deepest sensible red, and deepest sensible violet,
+(the corrected distance of which Colours, when all Things were ordered
+to the best Advantage, and the Sun shone very clear, was about 11/12 or
+15/16 Parts of the Length of the Rectilinear Sides of the coloured
+Spectrum) I found the Difference of the distances of their Foci from the
+Lens sometimes 4-3/4 sometimes 5-1/4, and for the most part 5 Inches or
+thereabouts; and as 11 to 12, or 15 to 16, so is five Inches to 5-2/2 or
+5-1/3 Inches.
+
+And by this Progression of Experiments I satisfied my self, that had the
+Light at the very Ends of the Spectrum been strong enough to make the
+Species of the black Lines appear plainly on the Paper, the Focus of the
+deepest violet would have been found nearer to the Lens, than the Focus
+of the deepest red, by about 5-1/3 Inches at least. And this is a
+farther Evidence, that the Sines of Incidence and Refraction of the
+several sorts of Rays, hold the same Proportion to one another in the
+smallest Refractions which they do in the greatest.
+
+My Progress in making this nice and troublesome Experiment I have set
+down more at large, that they that shall try it after me may be aware of
+the Circumspection requisite to make it succeed well. And if they cannot
+make it succeed so well as I did, they may notwithstanding collect by
+the Proportion of the distance of the Colours of the Spectrum, to the
+Difference of the distances of their Foci from the Lens, what would be
+the Success in the more distant Colours by a better trial. And yet, if
+they use a broader Lens than I did, and fix it to a long strait Staff,
+by means of which it may be readily and truly directed to the Colour
+whose Focus is desired, I question not but the Experiment will succeed
+better with them than it did with me. For I directed the Axis as nearly
+as I could to the middle of the Colours, and then the faint Ends of the
+Spectrum being remote from the Axis, cast their Species less distinctly
+on the Paper than they would have done, had the Axis been successively
+directed to them.
+
+Now by what has been said, it's certain that the Rays which differ in
+Refrangibility do not converge to the same Focus; but if they flow from
+a lucid Point, as far from the Lens on one side as their Foci are on the
+other, the Focus of the most refrangible Rays shall be nearer to the
+Lens than that of the least refrangible, by above the fourteenth Part of
+the whole distance; and if they flow from a lucid Point, so very remote
+from the Lens, that before their Incidence they may be accounted
+parallel, the Focus of the most refrangible Rays shall be nearer to the
+Lens than the Focus of the least refrangible, by about the 27th or 28th
+Part of their whole distance from it. And the Diameter of the Circle in
+the middle Space between those two Foci which they illuminate, when they
+fall there on any Plane, perpendicular to the Axis (which Circle is the
+least into which they can all be gathered) is about the 55th Part of the
+Diameter of the Aperture of the Glass. So that 'tis a wonder, that
+Telescopes represent Objects so distinct as they do. But were all the
+Rays of Light equally refrangible, the Error arising only from the
+Sphericalness of the Figures of Glasses would be many hundred times
+less. For, if the Object-glass of a Telescope be Plano-convex, and the
+Plane side be turned towards the Object, and the Diameter of the
+Sphere, whereof this Glass is a Segment, be called D, and the
+Semi-diameter of the Aperture of the Glass be called S, and the Sine of
+Incidence out of Glass into Air, be to the Sine of Refraction as I to R;
+the Rays which come parallel to the Axis of the Glass, shall in the
+Place where the Image of the Object is most distinctly made, be
+scattered all over a little Circle, whose Diameter is _(Rq/Iq) × (S
+cub./D quad.)_ very nearly,[H] as I gather by computing the Errors of
+the Rays by the Method of infinite Series, and rejecting the Terms,
+whose Quantities are inconsiderable. As for instance, if the Sine of
+Incidence I, be to the Sine of Refraction R, as 20 to 31, and if D the
+Diameter of the Sphere, to which the Convex-side of the Glass is ground,
+be 100 Feet or 1200 Inches, and S the Semi-diameter of the Aperture be
+two Inches, the Diameter of the little Circle, (that is (_Rq × S
+cub.)/(Iq × D quad._)) will be (31 × 31 × 8)/(20 × 20 × 1200 × 1200) (or
+961/72000000) Parts of an Inch. But the Diameter of the little Circle,
+through which these Rays are scattered by unequal Refrangibility, will
+be about the 55th Part of the Aperture of the Object-glass, which here
+is four Inches. And therefore, the Error arising from the Spherical
+Figure of the Glass, is to the Error arising from the different
+Refrangibility of the Rays, as 961/72000000 to 4/55, that is as 1 to
+5449; and therefore being in comparison so very little, deserves not to
+be considered.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 27.]
+
+But you will say, if the Errors caused by the different Refrangibility
+be so very great, how comes it to pass, that Objects appear through
+Telescopes so distinct as they do? I answer, 'tis because the erring
+Rays are not scattered uniformly over all that Circular Space, but
+collected infinitely more densely in the Center than in any other Part
+of the Circle, and in the Way from the Center to the Circumference, grow
+continually rarer and rarer, so as at the Circumference to become
+infinitely rare; and by reason of their Rarity are not strong enough to
+be visible, unless in the Center and very near it. Let ADE [in _Fig._
+27.] represent one of those Circles described with the Center C, and
+Semi-diameter AC, and let BFG be a smaller Circle concentrick to the
+former, cutting with its Circumference the Diameter AC in B, and bisect
+AC in N; and by my reckoning, the Density of the Light in any Place B,
+will be to its Density in N, as AB to BC; and the whole Light within the
+lesser Circle BFG, will be to the whole Light within the greater AED, as
+the Excess of the Square of AC above the Square of AB, is to the Square
+of AC. As if BC be the fifth Part of AC, the Light will be four times
+denser in B than in N, and the whole Light within the less Circle, will
+be to the whole Light within the greater, as nine to twenty-five. Whence
+it's evident, that the Light within the less Circle, must strike the
+Sense much more strongly, than that faint and dilated Light round about
+between it and the Circumference of the greater.
+
+But it's farther to be noted, that the most luminous of the Prismatick
+Colours are the yellow and orange. These affect the Senses more strongly
+than all the rest together, and next to these in strength are the red
+and green. The blue compared with these is a faint and dark Colour, and
+the indigo and violet are much darker and fainter, so that these
+compared with the stronger Colours are little to be regarded. The Images
+of Objects are therefore to be placed, not in the Focus of the mean
+refrangible Rays, which are in the Confine of green and blue, but in the
+Focus of those Rays which are in the middle of the orange and yellow;
+there where the Colour is most luminous and fulgent, that is in the
+brightest yellow, that yellow which inclines more to orange than to
+green. And by the Refraction of these Rays (whose Sines of Incidence and
+Refraction in Glass are as 17 and 11) the Refraction of Glass and
+Crystal for Optical Uses is to be measured. Let us therefore place the
+Image of the Object in the Focus of these Rays, and all the yellow and
+orange will fall within a Circle, whose Diameter is about the 250th
+Part of the Diameter of the Aperture of the Glass. And if you add the
+brighter half of the red, (that half which is next the orange) and the
+brighter half of the green, (that half which is next the yellow) about
+three fifth Parts of the Light of these two Colours will fall within the
+same Circle, and two fifth Parts will fall without it round about; and
+that which falls without will be spread through almost as much more
+space as that which falls within, and so in the gross be almost three
+times rarer. Of the other half of the red and green, (that is of the
+deep dark red and willow green) about one quarter will fall within this
+Circle, and three quarters without, and that which falls without will be
+spread through about four or five times more space than that which falls
+within; and so in the gross be rarer, and if compared with the whole
+Light within it, will be about 25 times rarer than all that taken in the
+gross; or rather more than 30 or 40 times rarer, because the deep red in
+the end of the Spectrum of Colours made by a Prism is very thin and
+rare, and the willow green is something rarer than the orange and
+yellow. The Light of these Colours therefore being so very much rarer
+than that within the Circle, will scarce affect the Sense, especially
+since the deep red and willow green of this Light, are much darker
+Colours than the rest. And for the same reason the blue and violet being
+much darker Colours than these, and much more rarified, may be
+neglected. For the dense and bright Light of the Circle, will obscure
+the rare and weak Light of these dark Colours round about it, and
+render them almost insensible. The sensible Image of a lucid Point is
+therefore scarce broader than a Circle, whose Diameter is the 250th Part
+of the Diameter of the Aperture of the Object-glass of a good Telescope,
+or not much broader, if you except a faint and dark misty Light round
+about it, which a Spectator will scarce regard. And therefore in a
+Telescope, whose Aperture is four Inches, and Length an hundred Feet, it
+exceeds not 2´´ 45´´´, or 3´´. And in a Telescope whose Aperture is two
+Inches, and Length 20 or 30 Feet, it may be 5´´ or 6´´, and scarce
+above. And this answers well to Experience: For some Astronomers have
+found the Diameters of the fix'd Stars, in Telescopes of between 20 and
+60 Feet in length, to be about 5´´ or 6´´, or at most 8´´ or 10´´ in
+diameter. But if the Eye-Glass be tincted faintly with the Smoak of a
+Lamp or Torch, to obscure the Light of the Star, the fainter Light in
+the Circumference of the Star ceases to be visible, and the Star (if the
+Glass be sufficiently soiled with Smoak) appears something more like a
+mathematical Point. And for the same Reason, the enormous Part of the
+Light in the Circumference of every lucid Point ought to be less
+discernible in shorter Telescopes than in longer, because the shorter
+transmit less Light to the Eye.
+
+Now, that the fix'd Stars, by reason of their immense Distance, appear
+like Points, unless so far as their Light is dilated by Refraction, may
+appear from hence; that when the Moon passes over them and eclipses
+them, their Light vanishes, not gradually like that of the Planets, but
+all at once; and in the end of the Eclipse it returns into Sight all at
+once, or certainly in less time than the second of a Minute; the
+Refraction of the Moon's Atmosphere a little protracting the time in
+which the Light of the Star first vanishes, and afterwards returns into
+Sight.
+
+Now, if we suppose the sensible Image of a lucid Point, to be even 250
+times narrower than the Aperture of the Glass; yet this Image would be
+still much greater than if it were only from the spherical Figure of the
+Glass. For were it not for the different Refrangibility of the Rays, its
+breadth in an 100 Foot Telescope whose aperture is 4 Inches, would be
+but 961/72000000 parts of an Inch, as is manifest by the foregoing
+Computation. And therefore in this case the greatest Errors arising from
+the spherical Figure of the Glass, would be to the greatest sensible
+Errors arising from the different Refrangibility of the Rays as
+961/72000000 to 4/250 at most, that is only as 1 to 1200. And this
+sufficiently shews that it is not the spherical Figures of Glasses, but
+the different Refrangibility of the Rays which hinders the perfection of
+Telescopes.
+
+There is another Argument by which it may appear that the different
+Refrangibility of Rays, is the true cause of the imperfection of
+Telescopes. For the Errors of the Rays arising from the spherical
+Figures of Object-glasses, are as the Cubes of the Apertures of the
+Object Glasses; and thence to make Telescopes of various Lengths magnify
+with equal distinctness, the Apertures of the Object-glasses, and the
+Charges or magnifying Powers ought to be as the Cubes of the square
+Roots of their lengths; which doth not answer to Experience. But the
+Errors of the Rays arising from the different Refrangibility, are as the
+Apertures of the Object-glasses; and thence to make Telescopes of
+various lengths, magnify with equal distinctness, their Apertures and
+Charges ought to be as the square Roots of their lengths; and this
+answers to Experience, as is well known. For Instance, a Telescope of 64
+Feet in length, with an Aperture of 2-2/3 Inches, magnifies about 120
+times, with as much distinctness as one of a Foot in length, with 1/3 of
+an Inch aperture, magnifies 15 times.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 28.]
+
+Now were it not for this different Refrangibility of Rays, Telescopes
+might be brought to a greater perfection than we have yet describ'd, by
+composing the Object-glass of two Glasses with Water between them. Let
+ADFC [in _Fig._ 28.] represent the Object-glass composed of two Glasses
+ABED and BEFC, alike convex on the outsides AGD and CHF, and alike
+concave on the insides BME, BNE, with Water in the concavity BMEN. Let
+the Sine of Incidence out of Glass into Air be as I to R, and out of
+Water into Air, as K to R, and by consequence out of Glass into Water,
+as I to K: and let the Diameter of the Sphere to which the convex sides
+AGD and CHF are ground be D, and the Diameter of the Sphere to which the
+concave sides BME and BNE, are ground be to D, as the Cube Root of
+KK--KI to the Cube Root of RK--RI: and the Refractions on the concave
+sides of the Glasses, will very much correct the Errors of the
+Refractions on the convex sides, so far as they arise from the
+sphericalness of the Figure. And by this means might Telescopes be
+brought to sufficient perfection, were it not for the different
+Refrangibility of several sorts of Rays. But by reason of this different
+Refrangibility, I do not yet see any other means of improving Telescopes
+by Refractions alone, than that of increasing their lengths, for which
+end the late Contrivance of _Hugenius_ seems well accommodated. For very
+long Tubes are cumbersome, and scarce to be readily managed, and by
+reason of their length are very apt to bend, and shake by bending, so as
+to cause a continual trembling in the Objects, whereby it becomes
+difficult to see them distinctly: whereas by his Contrivance the Glasses
+are readily manageable, and the Object-glass being fix'd upon a strong
+upright Pole becomes more steady.
+
+Seeing therefore the Improvement of Telescopes of given lengths by
+Refractions is desperate; I contrived heretofore a Perspective by
+Reflexion, using instead of an Object-glass a concave Metal. The
+diameter of the Sphere to which the Metal was ground concave was about
+25 _English_ Inches, and by consequence the length of the Instrument
+about six Inches and a quarter. The Eye-glass was Plano-convex, and the
+diameter of the Sphere to which the convex side was ground was about 1/5
+of an Inch, or a little less, and by consequence it magnified between 30
+and 40 times. By another way of measuring I found that it magnified
+about 35 times. The concave Metal bore an Aperture of an Inch and a
+third part; but the Aperture was limited not by an opake Circle,
+covering the Limb of the Metal round about, but by an opake Circle
+placed between the Eyeglass and the Eye, and perforated in the middle
+with a little round hole for the Rays to pass through to the Eye. For
+this Circle by being placed here, stopp'd much of the erroneous Light,
+which otherwise would have disturbed the Vision. By comparing it with a
+pretty good Perspective of four Feet in length, made with a concave
+Eye-glass, I could read at a greater distance with my own Instrument
+than with the Glass. Yet Objects appeared much darker in it than in the
+Glass, and that partly because more Light was lost by Reflexion in the
+Metal, than by Refraction in the Glass, and partly because my Instrument
+was overcharged. Had it magnified but 30 or 25 times, it would have made
+the Object appear more brisk and pleasant. Two of these I made about 16
+Years ago, and have one of them still by me, by which I can prove the
+truth of what I write. Yet it is not so good as at the first. For the
+concave has been divers times tarnished and cleared again, by rubbing
+it with very soft Leather. When I made these an Artist in _London_
+undertook to imitate it; but using another way of polishing them than I
+did, he fell much short of what I had attained to, as I afterwards
+understood by discoursing the Under-workman he had employed. The Polish
+I used was in this manner. I had two round Copper Plates, each six
+Inches in Diameter, the one convex, the other concave, ground very true
+to one another. On the convex I ground the Object-Metal or Concave which
+was to be polish'd, 'till it had taken the Figure of the Convex and was
+ready for a Polish. Then I pitched over the convex very thinly, by
+dropping melted Pitch upon it, and warming it to keep the Pitch soft,
+whilst I ground it with the concave Copper wetted to make it spread
+eavenly all over the convex. Thus by working it well I made it as thin
+as a Groat, and after the convex was cold I ground it again to give it
+as true a Figure as I could. Then I took Putty which I had made very
+fine by washing it from all its grosser Particles, and laying a little
+of this upon the Pitch, I ground it upon the Pitch with the concave
+Copper, till it had done making a Noise; and then upon the Pitch I
+ground the Object-Metal with a brisk motion, for about two or three
+Minutes of time, leaning hard upon it. Then I put fresh Putty upon the
+Pitch, and ground it again till it had done making a noise, and
+afterwards ground the Object-Metal upon it as before. And this Work I
+repeated till the Metal was polished, grinding it the last time with all
+my strength for a good while together, and frequently breathing upon
+the Pitch, to keep it moist without laying on any more fresh Putty. The
+Object-Metal was two Inches broad, and about one third part of an Inch
+thick, to keep it from bending. I had two of these Metals, and when I
+had polished them both, I tried which was best, and ground the other
+again, to see if I could make it better than that which I kept. And thus
+by many Trials I learn'd the way of polishing, till I made those two
+reflecting Perspectives I spake of above. For this Art of polishing will
+be better learn'd by repeated Practice than by my Description. Before I
+ground the Object-Metal on the Pitch, I always ground the Putty on it
+with the concave Copper, till it had done making a noise, because if the
+Particles of the Putty were not by this means made to stick fast in the
+Pitch, they would by rolling up and down grate and fret the Object-Metal
+and fill it full of little holes.
+
+But because Metal is more difficult to polish than Glass, and is
+afterwards very apt to be spoiled by tarnishing, and reflects not so
+much Light as Glass quick-silver'd over does: I would propound to use
+instead of the Metal, a Glass ground concave on the foreside, and as
+much convex on the backside, and quick-silver'd over on the convex side.
+The Glass must be every where of the same thickness exactly. Otherwise
+it will make Objects look colour'd and indistinct. By such a Glass I
+tried about five or six Years ago to make a reflecting Telescope of four
+Feet in length to magnify about 150 times, and I satisfied my self that
+there wants nothing but a good Artist to bring the Design to
+perfection. For the Glass being wrought by one of our _London_ Artists
+after such a manner as they grind Glasses for Telescopes, though it
+seemed as well wrought as the Object-glasses use to be, yet when it was
+quick-silver'd, the Reflexion discovered innumerable Inequalities all
+over the Glass. And by reason of these Inequalities, Objects appeared
+indistinct in this Instrument. For the Errors of reflected Rays caused
+by any Inequality of the Glass, are about six times greater than the
+Errors of refracted Rays caused by the like Inequalities. Yet by this
+Experiment I satisfied my self that the Reflexion on the concave side of
+the Glass, which I feared would disturb the Vision, did no sensible
+prejudice to it, and by consequence that nothing is wanting to perfect
+these Telescopes, but good Workmen who can grind and polish Glasses
+truly spherical. An Object-glass of a fourteen Foot Telescope, made by
+an Artificer at _London_, I once mended considerably, by grinding it on
+Pitch with Putty, and leaning very easily on it in the grinding, lest
+the Putty should scratch it. Whether this way may not do well enough for
+polishing these reflecting Glasses, I have not yet tried. But he that
+shall try either this or any other way of polishing which he may think
+better, may do well to make his Glasses ready for polishing, by grinding
+them without that Violence, wherewith our _London_ Workmen press their
+Glasses in grinding. For by such violent pressure, Glasses are apt to
+bend a little in the grinding, and such bending will certainly spoil
+their Figure. To recommend therefore the consideration of these
+reflecting Glasses to such Artists as are curious in figuring Glasses, I
+shall describe this optical Instrument in the following Proposition.
+
+
+_PROP._ VIII. PROB. II.
+
+_To shorten Telescopes._
+
+Let ABCD [in _Fig._ 29.] represent a Glass spherically concave on the
+foreside AB, and as much convex on the backside CD, so that it be every
+where of an equal thickness. Let it not be thicker on one side than on
+the other, lest it make Objects appear colour'd and indistinct, and let
+it be very truly wrought and quick-silver'd over on the backside; and
+set in the Tube VXYZ which must be very black within. Let EFG represent
+a Prism of Glass or Crystal placed near the other end of the Tube, in
+the middle of it, by means of a handle of Brass or Iron FGK, to the end
+of which made flat it is cemented. Let this Prism be rectangular at E,
+and let the other two Angles at F and G be accurately equal to each
+other, and by consequence equal to half right ones, and let the plane
+sides FE and GE be square, and by consequence the third side FG a
+rectangular Parallelogram, whose length is to its breadth in a
+subduplicate proportion of two to one. Let it be so placed in the Tube,
+that the Axis of the Speculum may pass through the middle of the square
+side EF perpendicularly and by consequence through the middle of the
+side FG at an Angle of 45 Degrees, and let the side EF be turned towards
+the Speculum, and the distance of this Prism from the Speculum be such
+that the Rays of the Light PQ, RS, &c. which are incident upon the
+Speculum in Lines parallel to the Axis thereof, may enter the Prism at
+the side EF, and be reflected by the side FG, and thence go out of it
+through the side GE, to the Point T, which must be the common Focus of
+the Speculum ABDC, and of a Plano-convex Eye-glass H, through which
+those Rays must pass to the Eye. And let the Rays at their coming out of
+the Glass pass through a small round hole, or aperture made in a little
+plate of Lead, Brass, or Silver, wherewith the Glass is to be covered,
+which hole must be no bigger than is necessary for Light enough to pass
+through. For so it will render the Object distinct, the Plate in which
+'tis made intercepting all the erroneous part of the Light which comes
+from the verges of the Speculum AB. Such an Instrument well made, if it
+be six Foot long, (reckoning the length from the Speculum to the Prism,
+and thence to the Focus T) will bear an aperture of six Inches at the
+Speculum, and magnify between two and three hundred times. But the hole
+H here limits the aperture with more advantage, than if the aperture was
+placed at the Speculum. If the Instrument be made longer or shorter, the
+aperture must be in proportion as the Cube of the square-square Root of
+the length, and the magnifying as the aperture. But it's convenient that
+the Speculum be an Inch or two broader than the aperture at the least,
+and that the Glass of the Speculum be thick, that it bend not in the
+working. The Prism EFG must be no bigger than is necessary, and its back
+side FG must not be quick-silver'd over. For without quicksilver it will
+reflect all the Light incident on it from the Speculum.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 29.]
+
+In this Instrument the Object will be inverted, but may be erected by
+making the square sides FF and EG of the Prism EFG not plane but
+spherically convex, that the Rays may cross as well before they come at
+it as afterwards between it and the Eye-glass. If it be desired that the
+Instrument bear a larger aperture, that may be also done by composing
+the Speculum of two Glasses with Water between them.
+
+If the Theory of making Telescopes could at length be fully brought into
+Practice, yet there would be certain Bounds beyond which Telescopes
+could not perform. For the Air through which we look upon the Stars, is
+in a perpetual Tremor; as may be seen by the tremulous Motion of Shadows
+cast from high Towers, and by the twinkling of the fix'd Stars. But
+these Stars do not twinkle when viewed through Telescopes which have
+large apertures. For the Rays of Light which pass through divers parts
+of the aperture, tremble each of them apart, and by means of their
+various and sometimes contrary Tremors, fall at one and the same time
+upon different points in the bottom of the Eye, and their trembling
+Motions are too quick and confused to be perceived severally. And all
+these illuminated Points constitute one broad lucid Point, composed of
+those many trembling Points confusedly and insensibly mixed with one
+another by very short and swift Tremors, and thereby cause the Star to
+appear broader than it is, and without any trembling of the whole. Long
+Telescopes may cause Objects to appear brighter and larger than short
+ones can do, but they cannot be so formed as to take away that confusion
+of the Rays which arises from the Tremors of the Atmosphere. The only
+Remedy is a most serene and quiet Air, such as may perhaps be found on
+the tops of the highest Mountains above the grosser Clouds.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[C] _See our_ Author's Lectiones Opticæ § 10. _Sect. II. § 29. and Sect.
+III. Prop. 25._
+
+[D] See our Author's _Lectiones Opticæ_, Part. I. Sect. 1. §5.
+
+[E] _This is very fully treated of in our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_
+I. _Sect._ II.
+
+[F] _See our_ Author's Lect. Optic. Part I. Sect. II. § 29.
+
+[G] _This is demonstrated in our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_ I.
+_Sect._ IV. _Prop._ 37.
+
+[H] _How to do this, is shewn in our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_ I.
+_Sect._ IV. _Prop._ 31.
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST BOOK OF OPTICKS
+
+
+
+
+_PART II._
+
+
+_PROP._ I. THEOR. I.
+
+_The Phænomena of Colours in refracted or reflected Light are not caused
+by new Modifications of the Light variously impress'd, according to the
+various Terminations of the Light and Shadow_.
+
+The PROOF by Experiments.
+
+_Exper._ 1. For if the Sun shine into a very dark Chamber through an
+oblong hole F, [in _Fig._ 1.] whose breadth is the sixth or eighth part
+of an Inch, or something less; and his beam FH do afterwards pass first
+through a very large Prism ABC, distant about 20 Feet from the hole, and
+parallel to it, and then (with its white part) through an oblong hole H,
+whose breadth is about the fortieth or sixtieth part of an Inch, and
+which is made in a black opake Body GI, and placed at the distance of
+two or three Feet from the Prism, in a parallel Situation both to the
+Prism and to the former hole, and if this white Light thus transmitted
+through the hole H, fall afterwards upon a white Paper _pt_, placed
+after that hole H, at the distance of three or four Feet from it, and
+there paint the usual Colours of the Prism, suppose red at _t_, yellow
+at _s_, green at _r_, blue at _q_, and violet at _p_; you may with an
+Iron Wire, or any such like slender opake Body, whose breadth is about
+the tenth part of an Inch, by intercepting the Rays at _k_, _l_, _m_,
+_n_ or _o_, take away any one of the Colours at _t_, _s_, _r_, _q_ or
+_p_, whilst the other Colours remain upon the Paper as before; or with
+an Obstacle something bigger you may take away any two, or three, or
+four Colours together, the rest remaining: So that any one of the
+Colours as well as violet may become outmost in the Confine of the
+Shadow towards _p_, and any one of them as well as red may become
+outmost in the Confine of the Shadow towards _t_, and any one of them
+may also border upon the Shadow made within the Colours by the Obstacle
+R intercepting some intermediate part of the Light; and, lastly, any one
+of them by being left alone, may border upon the Shadow on either hand.
+All the Colours have themselves indifferently to any Confines of Shadow,
+and therefore the differences of these Colours from one another, do not
+arise from the different Confines of Shadow, whereby Light is variously
+modified, as has hitherto been the Opinion of Philosophers. In trying
+these things 'tis to be observed, that by how much the holes F and H are
+narrower, and the Intervals between them and the Prism greater, and the
+Chamber darker, by so much the better doth the Experiment succeed;
+provided the Light be not so far diminished, but that the Colours at
+_pt_ be sufficiently visible. To procure a Prism of solid Glass large
+enough for this Experiment will be difficult, and therefore a prismatick
+Vessel must be made of polish'd Glass Plates cemented together, and
+filled with salt Water or clear Oil.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 1.]
+
+_Exper._ 2. The Sun's Light let into a dark Chamber through the round
+hole F, [in _Fig._ 2.] half an Inch wide, passed first through the Prism
+ABC placed at the hole, and then through a Lens PT something more than
+four Inches broad, and about eight Feet distant from the Prism, and
+thence converged to O the Focus of the Lens distant from it about three
+Feet, and there fell upon a white Paper DE. If that Paper was
+perpendicular to that Light incident upon it, as 'tis represented in the
+posture DE, all the Colours upon it at O appeared white. But if the
+Paper being turned about an Axis parallel to the Prism, became very much
+inclined to the Light, as 'tis represented in the Positions _de_ and
+_[Greek: de]_; the same Light in the one case appeared yellow and red,
+in the other blue. Here one and the same part of the Light in one and
+the same place, according to the various Inclinations of the Paper,
+appeared in one case white, in another yellow or red, in a third blue,
+whilst the Confine of Light and shadow, and the Refractions of the Prism
+in all these cases remained the same.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
+
+_Exper._ 3. Such another Experiment may be more easily tried as follows.
+Let a broad beam of the Sun's Light coming into a dark Chamber through a
+hole in the Window-shut be refracted by a large Prism ABC, [in _Fig._
+3.] whose refracting Angle C is more than 60 Degrees, and so soon as it
+comes out of the Prism, let it fall upon the white Paper DE glewed upon
+a stiff Plane; and this Light, when the Paper is perpendicular to it, as
+'tis represented in DE, will appear perfectly white upon the Paper; but
+when the Paper is very much inclin'd to it in such a manner as to keep
+always parallel to the Axis of the Prism, the whiteness of the whole
+Light upon the Paper will according to the inclination of the Paper this
+way or that way, change either into yellow and red, as in the posture
+_de_, or into blue and violet, as in the posture [Greek: de]. And if the
+Light before it fall upon the Paper be twice refracted the same way by
+two parallel Prisms, these Colours will become the more conspicuous.
+Here all the middle parts of the broad beam of white Light which fell
+upon the Paper, did without any Confine of Shadow to modify it, become
+colour'd all over with one uniform Colour, the Colour being always the
+same in the middle of the Paper as at the edges, and this Colour changed
+according to the various Obliquity of the reflecting Paper, without any
+change in the Refractions or Shadow, or in the Light which fell upon the
+Paper. And therefore these Colours are to be derived from some other
+Cause than the new Modifications of Light by Refractions and Shadows.
+
+If it be asked, what then is their Cause? I answer, That the Paper in
+the posture _de_, being more oblique to the more refrangible Rays than
+to the less refrangible ones, is more strongly illuminated by the latter
+than by the former, and therefore the less refrangible Rays are
+predominant in the reflected Light. And where-ever they are predominant
+in any Light, they tinge it with red or yellow, as may in some measure
+appear by the first Proposition of the first Part of this Book, and will
+more fully appear hereafter. And the contrary happens in the posture of
+the Paper [Greek: de], the more refrangible Rays being then predominant
+which always tinge Light with blues and violets.
+
+_Exper._ 4. The Colours of Bubbles with which Children play are various,
+and change their Situation variously, without any respect to any Confine
+or Shadow. If such a Bubble be cover'd with a concave Glass, to keep it
+from being agitated by any Wind or Motion of the Air, the Colours will
+slowly and regularly change their situation, even whilst the Eye and the
+Bubble, and all Bodies which emit any Light, or cast any Shadow, remain
+unmoved. And therefore their Colours arise from some regular Cause which
+depends not on any Confine of Shadow. What this Cause is will be shewed
+in the next Book.
+
+To these Experiments may be added the tenth Experiment of the first Part
+of this first Book, where the Sun's Light in a dark Room being
+trajected through the parallel Superficies of two Prisms tied together
+in the form of a Parallelopipede, became totally of one uniform yellow
+or red Colour, at its emerging out of the Prisms. Here, in the
+production of these Colours, the Confine of Shadow can have nothing to
+do. For the Light changes from white to yellow, orange and red
+successively, without any alteration of the Confine of Shadow: And at
+both edges of the emerging Light where the contrary Confines of Shadow
+ought to produce different Effects, the Colour is one and the same,
+whether it be white, yellow, orange or red: And in the middle of the
+emerging Light, where there is no Confine of Shadow at all, the Colour
+is the very same as at the edges, the whole Light at its very first
+Emergence being of one uniform Colour, whether white, yellow, orange or
+red, and going on thence perpetually without any change of Colour, such
+as the Confine of Shadow is vulgarly supposed to work in refracted Light
+after its Emergence. Neither can these Colours arise from any new
+Modifications of the Light by Refractions, because they change
+successively from white to yellow, orange and red, while the Refractions
+remain the same, and also because the Refractions are made contrary ways
+by parallel Superficies which destroy one another's Effects. They arise
+not therefore from any Modifications of Light made by Refractions and
+Shadows, but have some other Cause. What that Cause is we shewed above
+in this tenth Experiment, and need not here repeat it.
+
+There is yet another material Circumstance of this Experiment. For this
+emerging Light being by a third Prism HIK [in _Fig._ 22. _Part_ I.][I]
+refracted towards the Paper PT, and there painting the usual Colours of
+the Prism, red, yellow, green, blue, violet: If these Colours arose from
+the Refractions of that Prism modifying the Light, they would not be in
+the Light before its Incidence on that Prism. And yet in that Experiment
+we found, that when by turning the two first Prisms about their common
+Axis all the Colours were made to vanish but the red; the Light which
+makes that red being left alone, appeared of the very same red Colour
+before its Incidence on the third Prism. And in general we find by other
+Experiments, that when the Rays which differ in Refrangibility are
+separated from one another, and any one Sort of them is considered
+apart, the Colour of the Light which they compose cannot be changed by
+any Refraction or Reflexion whatever, as it ought to be were Colours
+nothing else than Modifications of Light caused by Refractions, and
+Reflexions, and Shadows. This Unchangeableness of Colour I am now to
+describe in the following Proposition.
+
+
+_PROP._ II. THEOR. II.
+
+_All homogeneal Light has its proper Colour answering to its Degree of
+Refrangibility, and that Colour cannot be changed by Reflexions and
+Refractions._
+
+In the Experiments of the fourth Proposition of the first Part of this
+first Book, when I had separated the heterogeneous Rays from one
+another, the Spectrum _pt_ formed by the separated Rays, did in the
+Progress from its End _p_, on which the most refrangible Rays fell, unto
+its other End _t_, on which the least refrangible Rays fell, appear
+tinged with this Series of Colours, violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow,
+orange, red, together with all their intermediate Degrees in a continual
+Succession perpetually varying. So that there appeared as many Degrees
+of Colours, as there were sorts of Rays differing in Refrangibility.
+
+_Exper._ 5. Now, that these Colours could not be changed by Refraction,
+I knew by refracting with a Prism sometimes one very little Part of this
+Light, sometimes another very little Part, as is described in the
+twelfth Experiment of the first Part of this Book. For by this
+Refraction the Colour of the Light was never changed in the least. If
+any Part of the red Light was refracted, it remained totally of the same
+red Colour as before. No orange, no yellow, no green or blue, no other
+new Colour was produced by that Refraction. Neither did the Colour any
+ways change by repeated Refractions, but continued always the same red
+entirely as at first. The like Constancy and Immutability I found also
+in the blue, green, and other Colours. So also, if I looked through a
+Prism upon any Body illuminated with any part of this homogeneal Light,
+as in the fourteenth Experiment of the first Part of this Book is
+described; I could not perceive any new Colour generated this way. All
+Bodies illuminated with compound Light appear through Prisms confused,
+(as was said above) and tinged with various new Colours, but those
+illuminated with homogeneal Light appeared through Prisms neither less
+distinct, nor otherwise colour'd, than when viewed with the naked Eyes.
+Their Colours were not in the least changed by the Refraction of the
+interposed Prism. I speak here of a sensible Change of Colour: For the
+Light which I here call homogeneal, being not absolutely homogeneal,
+there ought to arise some little Change of Colour from its
+Heterogeneity. But, if that Heterogeneity was so little as it might be
+made by the said Experiments of the fourth Proposition, that Change was
+not sensible, and therefore in Experiments, where Sense is Judge, ought
+to be accounted none at all.
+
+_Exper._ 6. And as these Colours were not changeable by Refractions, so
+neither were they by Reflexions. For all white, grey, red, yellow,
+green, blue, violet Bodies, as Paper, Ashes, red Lead, Orpiment, Indico
+Bise, Gold, Silver, Copper, Grass, blue Flowers, Violets, Bubbles of
+Water tinged with various Colours, Peacock's Feathers, the Tincture of
+_Lignum Nephriticum_, and such-like, in red homogeneal Light appeared
+totally red, in blue Light totally blue, in green Light totally green,
+and so of other Colours. In the homogeneal Light of any Colour they all
+appeared totally of that same Colour, with this only Difference, that
+some of them reflected that Light more strongly, others more faintly. I
+never yet found any Body, which by reflecting homogeneal Light could
+sensibly change its Colour.
+
+From all which it is manifest, that if the Sun's Light consisted of but
+one sort of Rays, there would be but one Colour in the whole World, nor
+would it be possible to produce any new Colour by Reflexions and
+Refractions, and by consequence that the variety of Colours depends upon
+the Composition of Light.
+
+
+_DEFINITION._
+
+The homogeneal Light and Rays which appear red, or rather make Objects
+appear so, I call Rubrifick or Red-making; those which make Objects
+appear yellow, green, blue, and violet, I call Yellow-making,
+Green-making, Blue-making, Violet-making, and so of the rest. And if at
+any time I speak of Light and Rays as coloured or endued with Colours, I
+would be understood to speak not philosophically and properly, but
+grossly, and accordingly to such Conceptions as vulgar People in seeing
+all these Experiments would be apt to frame. For the Rays to speak
+properly are not coloured. In them there is nothing else than a certain
+Power and Disposition to stir up a Sensation of this or that Colour.
+For as Sound in a Bell or musical String, or other sounding Body, is
+nothing but a trembling Motion, and in the Air nothing but that Motion
+propagated from the Object, and in the Sensorium 'tis a Sense of that
+Motion under the Form of Sound; so Colours in the Object are nothing but
+a Disposition to reflect this or that sort of Rays more copiously than
+the rest; in the Rays they are nothing but their Dispositions to
+propagate this or that Motion into the Sensorium, and in the Sensorium
+they are Sensations of those Motions under the Forms of Colours.
+
+
+_PROP._ III. PROB. I.
+
+_To define the Refrangibility of the several sorts of homogeneal Light
+answering to the several Colours._
+
+For determining this Problem I made the following Experiment.[J]
+
+_Exper._ 7. When I had caused the Rectilinear Sides AF, GM, [in _Fig._
+4.] of the Spectrum of Colours made by the Prism to be distinctly
+defined, as in the fifth Experiment of the first Part of this Book is
+described, there were found in it all the homogeneal Colours in the same
+Order and Situation one among another as in the Spectrum of simple
+Light, described in the fourth Proposition of that Part. For the Circles
+of which the Spectrum of compound Light PT is composed, and which in
+the middle Parts of the Spectrum interfere, and are intermix'd with one
+another, are not intermix'd in their outmost Parts where they touch
+those Rectilinear Sides AF and GM. And therefore, in those Rectilinear
+Sides when distinctly defined, there is no new Colour generated by
+Refraction. I observed also, that if any where between the two outmost
+Circles TMF and PGA a Right Line, as [Greek: gd], was cross to the
+Spectrum, so as both Ends to fall perpendicularly upon its Rectilinear
+Sides, there appeared one and the same Colour, and degree of Colour from
+one End of this Line to the other. I delineated therefore in a Paper the
+Perimeter of the Spectrum FAP GMT, and in trying the third Experiment of
+the first Part of this Book, I held the Paper so that the Spectrum might
+fall upon this delineated Figure, and agree with it exactly, whilst an
+Assistant, whose Eyes for distinguishing Colours were more critical than
+mine, did by Right Lines [Greek: ab, gd, ez,] &c. drawn cross the
+Spectrum, note the Confines of the Colours, that is of the red M[Greek:
+ab]F, of the orange [Greek: agdb], of the yellow [Greek: gezd], of the
+green [Greek: eêthz], of the blue [Greek: êikth], of the indico [Greek:
+ilmk], and of the violet [Greek: l]GA[Greek: m]. And this Operation
+being divers times repeated both in the same, and in several Papers, I
+found that the Observations agreed well enough with one another, and
+that the Rectilinear Sides MG and FA were by the said cross Lines
+divided after the manner of a Musical Chord. Let GM be produced to X,
+that MX may be equal to GM, and conceive GX, [Greek: l]X, [Greek: i]X,
+[Greek: ê]X, [Greek: e]X, [Greek: g]X, [Greek: a]X, MX, to be in
+proportion to one another, as the Numbers, 1, 8/9, 5/6, 3/4, 2/3, 3/5,
+9/16, 1/2, and so to represent the Chords of the Key, and of a Tone, a
+third Minor, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth Major, a seventh and an eighth
+above that Key: And the Intervals M[Greek: a], [Greek: ag], [Greek: ge],
+[Greek: eê], [Greek: êi], [Greek: il], and [Greek: l]G, will be the
+Spaces which the several Colours (red, orange, yellow, green, blue,
+indigo, violet) take up.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 5.]
+
+Now these Intervals or Spaces subtending the Differences of the
+Refractions of the Rays going to the Limits of those Colours, that is,
+to the Points M, [Greek: a], [Greek: g], [Greek: e], [Greek: ê], [Greek:
+i], [Greek: l], G, may without any sensible Error be accounted
+proportional to the Differences of the Sines of Refraction of those Rays
+having one common Sine of Incidence, and therefore since the common Sine
+of Incidence of the most and least refrangible Rays out of Glass into
+Air was (by a Method described above) found in proportion to their Sines
+of Refraction, as 50 to 77 and 78, divide the Difference between the
+Sines of Refraction 77 and 78, as the Line GM is divided by those
+Intervals, and you will have 77, 77-1/8, 77-1/5, 77-1/3, 77-1/2, 77-2/3,
+77-7/9, 78, the Sines of Refraction of those Rays out of Glass into Air,
+their common Sine of Incidence being 50. So then the Sines of the
+Incidences of all the red-making Rays out of Glass into Air, were to the
+Sines of their Refractions, not greater than 50 to 77, nor less than 50
+to 77-1/8, but they varied from one another according to all
+intermediate Proportions. And the Sines of the Incidences of the
+green-making Rays were to the Sines of their Refractions in all
+Proportions from that of 50 to 77-1/3, unto that of 50 to 77-1/2. And
+by the like Limits above-mentioned were the Refractions of the Rays
+belonging to the rest of the Colours defined, the Sines of the
+red-making Rays extending from 77 to 77-1/8, those of the orange-making
+from 77-1/8 to 77-1/5, those of the yellow-making from 77-1/5 to 77-1/3,
+those of the green-making from 77-1/3 to 77-1/2, those of the
+blue-making from 77-1/2 to 77-2/3, those of the indigo-making from
+77-2/3 to 77-7/9, and those of the violet from 77-7/9, to 78.
+
+These are the Laws of the Refractions made out of Glass into Air, and
+thence by the third Axiom of the first Part of this Book, the Laws of
+the Refractions made out of Air into Glass are easily derived.
+
+_Exper._ 8. I found moreover, that when Light goes out of Air through
+several contiguous refracting Mediums as through Water and Glass, and
+thence goes out again into Air, whether the refracting Superficies be
+parallel or inclin'd to one another, that Light as often as by contrary
+Refractions 'tis so corrected, that it emergeth in Lines parallel to
+those in which it was incident, continues ever after to be white. But if
+the emergent Rays be inclined to the incident, the Whiteness of the
+emerging Light will by degrees in passing on from the Place of
+Emergence, become tinged in its Edges with Colours. This I try'd by
+refracting Light with Prisms of Glass placed within a Prismatick Vessel
+of Water. Now those Colours argue a diverging and separation of the
+heterogeneous Rays from one another by means of their unequal
+Refractions, as in what follows will more fully appear. And, on the
+contrary, the permanent whiteness argues, that in like Incidences of the
+Rays there is no such separation of the emerging Rays, and by
+consequence no inequality of their whole Refractions. Whence I seem to
+gather the two following Theorems.
+
+1. The Excesses of the Sines of Refraction of several sorts of Rays
+above their common Sine of Incidence when the Refractions are made out
+of divers denser Mediums immediately into one and the same rarer Medium,
+suppose of Air, are to one another in a given Proportion.
+
+2. The Proportion of the Sine of Incidence to the Sine of Refraction of
+one and the same sort of Rays out of one Medium into another, is
+composed of the Proportion of the Sine of Incidence to the Sine of
+Refraction out of the first Medium into any third Medium, and of the
+Proportion of the Sine of Incidence to the Sine of Refraction out of
+that third Medium into the second Medium.
+
+By the first Theorem the Refractions of the Rays of every sort made out
+of any Medium into Air are known by having the Refraction of the Rays of
+any one sort. As for instance, if the Refractions of the Rays of every
+sort out of Rain-water into Air be desired, let the common Sine of
+Incidence out of Glass into Air be subducted from the Sines of
+Refraction, and the Excesses will be 27, 27-1/8, 27-1/5, 27-1/3, 27-1/2,
+27-2/3, 27-7/9, 28. Suppose now that the Sine of Incidence of the least
+refrangible Rays be to their Sine of Refraction out of Rain-water into
+Air as 3 to 4, and say as 1 the difference of those Sines is to 3 the
+Sine of Incidence, so is 27 the least of the Excesses above-mentioned to
+a fourth Number 81; and 81 will be the common Sine of Incidence out of
+Rain-water into Air, to which Sine if you add all the above-mentioned
+Excesses, you will have the desired Sines of the Refractions 108,
+108-1/8, 108-1/5, 108-1/3, 108-1/2, 108-2/3, 108-7/9, 109.
+
+By the latter Theorem the Refraction out of one Medium into another is
+gathered as often as you have the Refractions out of them both into any
+third Medium. As if the Sine of Incidence of any Ray out of Glass into
+Air be to its Sine of Refraction, as 20 to 31, and the Sine of Incidence
+of the same Ray out of Air into Water, be to its Sine of Refraction as 4
+to 3; the Sine of Incidence of that Ray out of Glass into Water will be
+to its Sine of Refraction as 20 to 31 and 4 to 3 jointly, that is, as
+the Factum of 20 and 4 to the Factum of 31 and 3, or as 80 to 93.
+
+And these Theorems being admitted into Opticks, there would be scope
+enough of handling that Science voluminously after a new manner,[K] not
+only by teaching those things which tend to the perfection of Vision,
+but also by determining mathematically all kinds of Phænomena of Colours
+which could be produced by Refractions. For to do this, there is nothing
+else requisite than to find out the Separations of heterogeneous Rays,
+and their various Mixtures and Proportions in every Mixture. By this
+way of arguing I invented almost all the Phænomena described in these
+Books, beside some others less necessary to the Argument; and by the
+successes I met with in the Trials, I dare promise, that to him who
+shall argue truly, and then try all things with good Glasses and
+sufficient Circumspection, the expected Event will not be wanting. But
+he is first to know what Colours will arise from any others mix'd in any
+assigned Proportion.
+
+
+_PROP._ IV. THEOR. III.
+
+_Colours may be produced by Composition which shall be like to the
+Colours of homogeneal Light as to the Appearance of Colour, but not as
+to the Immutability of Colour and Constitution of Light. And those
+Colours by how much they are more compounded by so much are they less
+full and intense, and by too much Composition they maybe diluted and
+weaken'd till they cease, and the Mixture becomes white or grey. There
+may be also Colours produced by Composition, which are not fully like
+any of the Colours of homogeneal Light._
+
+For a Mixture of homogeneal red and yellow compounds an Orange, like in
+appearance of Colour to that orange which in the series of unmixed
+prismatick Colours lies between them; but the Light of one orange is
+homogeneal as to Refrangibility, and that of the other is heterogeneal,
+and the Colour of the one, if viewed through a Prism, remains unchanged,
+that of the other is changed and resolved into its component Colours red
+and yellow. And after the same manner other neighbouring homogeneal
+Colours may compound new Colours, like the intermediate homogeneal ones,
+as yellow and green, the Colour between them both, and afterwards, if
+blue be added, there will be made a green the middle Colour of the three
+which enter the Composition. For the yellow and blue on either hand, if
+they are equal in quantity they draw the intermediate green equally
+towards themselves in Composition, and so keep it as it were in
+Æquilibrion, that it verge not more to the yellow on the one hand, and
+to the blue on the other, but by their mix'd Actions remain still a
+middle Colour. To this mix'd green there may be farther added some red
+and violet, and yet the green will not presently cease, but only grow
+less full and vivid, and by increasing the red and violet, it will grow
+more and more dilute, until by the prevalence of the added Colours it be
+overcome and turned into whiteness, or some other Colour. So if to the
+Colour of any homogeneal Light, the Sun's white Light composed of all
+sorts of Rays be added, that Colour will not vanish or change its
+Species, but be diluted, and by adding more and more white it will be
+diluted more and more perpetually. Lastly, If red and violet be mingled,
+there will be generated according to their various Proportions various
+Purples, such as are not like in appearance to the Colour of any
+homogeneal Light, and of these Purples mix'd with yellow and blue may be
+made other new Colours.
+
+
+_PROP._ V. THEOR. IV.
+
+_Whiteness and all grey Colours between white and black, may be
+compounded of Colours, and the whiteness of the Sun's Light is
+compounded of all the primary Colours mix'd in a due Proportion._
+
+The PROOF by Experiments.
+
+_Exper._ 9. The Sun shining into a dark Chamber through a little round
+hole in the Window-shut, and his Light being there refracted by a Prism
+to cast his coloured Image PT [in _Fig._ 5.] upon the opposite Wall: I
+held a white Paper V to that image in such manner that it might be
+illuminated by the colour'd Light reflected from thence, and yet not
+intercept any part of that Light in its passage from the Prism to the
+Spectrum. And I found that when the Paper was held nearer to any Colour
+than to the rest, it appeared of that Colour to which it approached
+nearest; but when it was equally or almost equally distant from all the
+Colours, so that it might be equally illuminated by them all it appeared
+white. And in this last situation of the Paper, if some Colours were
+intercepted, the Paper lost its white Colour, and appeared of the Colour
+of the rest of the Light which was not intercepted. So then the Paper
+was illuminated with Lights of various Colours, namely, red, yellow,
+green, blue and violet, and every part of the Light retained its proper
+Colour, until it was incident on the Paper, and became reflected thence
+to the Eye; so that if it had been either alone (the rest of the Light
+being intercepted) or if it had abounded most, and been predominant in
+the Light reflected from the Paper, it would have tinged the Paper with
+its own Colour; and yet being mixed with the rest of the Colours in a
+due proportion, it made the Paper look white, and therefore by a
+Composition with the rest produced that Colour. The several parts of the
+coloured Light reflected from the Spectrum, whilst they are propagated
+from thence through the Air, do perpetually retain their proper Colours,
+because wherever they fall upon the Eyes of any Spectator, they make the
+several parts of the Spectrum to appear under their proper Colours. They
+retain therefore their proper Colours when they fall upon the Paper V,
+and so by the confusion and perfect mixture of those Colours compound
+the whiteness of the Light reflected from thence.
+
+_Exper._ 10. Let that Spectrum or solar Image PT [in _Fig._ 6.] fall now
+upon the Lens MN above four Inches broad, and about six Feet distant
+from the Prism ABC and so figured that it may cause the coloured Light
+which divergeth from the Prism to converge and meet again at its Focus
+G, about six or eight Feet distant from the Lens, and there to fall
+perpendicularly upon a white Paper DE. And if you move this Paper to and
+fro, you will perceive that near the Lens, as at _de_, the whole solar
+Image (suppose at _pt_) will appear upon it intensely coloured after the
+manner above-explained, and that by receding from the Lens those Colours
+will perpetually come towards one another, and by mixing more and more
+dilute one another continually, until at length the Paper come to the
+Focus G, where by a perfect mixture they will wholly vanish and be
+converted into whiteness, the whole Light appearing now upon the Paper
+like a little white Circle. And afterwards by receding farther from the
+Lens, the Rays which before converged will now cross one another in the
+Focus G, and diverge from thence, and thereby make the Colours to appear
+again, but yet in a contrary order; suppose at [Greek: de], where the
+red _t_ is now above which before was below, and the violet _p_ is below
+which before was above.
+
+Let us now stop the Paper at the Focus G, where the Light appears
+totally white and circular, and let us consider its whiteness. I say,
+that this is composed of the converging Colours. For if any of those
+Colours be intercepted at the Lens, the whiteness will cease and
+degenerate into that Colour which ariseth from the composition of the
+other Colours which are not intercepted. And then if the intercepted
+Colours be let pass and fall upon that compound Colour, they mix with
+it, and by their mixture restore the whiteness. So if the violet, blue
+and green be intercepted, the remaining yellow, orange and red will
+compound upon the Paper an orange, and then if the intercepted Colours
+be let pass, they will fall upon this compounded orange, and together
+with it decompound a white. So also if the red and violet be
+intercepted, the remaining yellow, green and blue, will compound a green
+upon the Paper, and then the red and violet being let pass will fall
+upon this green, and together with it decompound a white. And that in
+this Composition of white the several Rays do not suffer any Change in
+their colorific Qualities by acting upon one another, but are only
+mixed, and by a mixture of their Colours produce white, may farther
+appear by these Arguments.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 6.]
+
+If the Paper be placed beyond the Focus G, suppose at [Greek: de], and
+then the red Colour at the Lens be alternately intercepted, and let pass
+again, the violet Colour on the Paper will not suffer any Change
+thereby, as it ought to do if the several sorts of Rays acted upon one
+another in the Focus G, where they cross. Neither will the red upon the
+Paper be changed by any alternate stopping, and letting pass the violet
+which crosseth it.
+
+And if the Paper be placed at the Focus G, and the white round Image at
+G be viewed through the Prism HIK, and by the Refraction of that Prism
+be translated to the place _rv_, and there appear tinged with various
+Colours, namely, the violet at _v_ and red at _r_, and others between,
+and then the red Colours at the Lens be often stopp'd and let pass by
+turns, the red at _r_ will accordingly disappear, and return as often,
+but the violet at _v_ will not thereby suffer any Change. And so by
+stopping and letting pass alternately the blue at the Lens, the blue at
+_v_ will accordingly disappear and return, without any Change made in
+the red at _r_. The red therefore depends on one sort of Rays, and the
+blue on another sort, which in the Focus G where they are commix'd, do
+not act on one another. And there is the same Reason of the other
+Colours.
+
+I considered farther, that when the most refrangible Rays P_p_, and the
+least refrangible ones T_t_, are by converging inclined to one another,
+the Paper, if held very oblique to those Rays in the Focus G, might
+reflect one sort of them more copiously than the other sort, and by that
+Means the reflected Light would be tinged in that Focus with the Colour
+of the predominant Rays, provided those Rays severally retained their
+Colours, or colorific Qualities in the Composition of White made by them
+in that Focus. But if they did not retain them in that White, but became
+all of them severally endued there with a Disposition to strike the
+Sense with the Perception of White, then they could never lose their
+Whiteness by such Reflexions. I inclined therefore the Paper to the Rays
+very obliquely, as in the second Experiment of this second Part of the
+first Book, that the most refrangible Rays, might be more copiously
+reflected than the rest, and the Whiteness at Length changed
+successively into blue, indigo, and violet. Then I inclined it the
+contrary Way, that the least refrangible Rays might be more copious in
+the reflected Light than the rest, and the Whiteness turned successively
+to yellow, orange, and red.
+
+Lastly, I made an Instrument XY in fashion of a Comb, whose Teeth being
+in number sixteen, were about an Inch and a half broad, and the
+Intervals of the Teeth about two Inches wide. Then by interposing
+successively the Teeth of this Instrument near the Lens, I intercepted
+Part of the Colours by the interposed Tooth, whilst the rest of them
+went on through the Interval of the Teeth to the Paper DE, and there
+painted a round Solar Image. But the Paper I had first placed so, that
+the Image might appear white as often as the Comb was taken away; and
+then the Comb being as was said interposed, that Whiteness by reason of
+the intercepted Part of the Colours at the Lens did always change into
+the Colour compounded of those Colours which were not intercepted, and
+that Colour was by the Motion of the Comb perpetually varied so, that in
+the passing of every Tooth over the Lens all these Colours, red, yellow,
+green, blue, and purple, did always succeed one another. I caused
+therefore all the Teeth to pass successively over the Lens, and when the
+Motion was slow, there appeared a perpetual Succession of the Colours
+upon the Paper: But if I so much accelerated the Motion, that the
+Colours by reason of their quick Succession could not be distinguished
+from one another, the Appearance of the single Colours ceased. There was
+no red, no yellow, no green, no blue, nor purple to be seen any longer,
+but from a Confusion of them all there arose one uniform white Colour.
+Of the Light which now by the Mixture of all the Colours appeared white,
+there was no Part really white. One Part was red, another yellow, a
+third green, a fourth blue, a fifth purple, and every Part retains its
+proper Colour till it strike the Sensorium. If the Impressions follow
+one another slowly, so that they may be severally perceived, there is
+made a distinct Sensation of all the Colours one after another in a
+continual Succession. But if the Impressions follow one another so
+quickly, that they cannot be severally perceived, there ariseth out of
+them all one common Sensation, which is neither of this Colour alone nor
+of that alone, but hath it self indifferently to 'em all, and this is a
+Sensation of Whiteness. By the Quickness of the Successions, the
+Impressions of the several Colours are confounded in the Sensorium, and
+out of that Confusion ariseth a mix'd Sensation. If a burning Coal be
+nimbly moved round in a Circle with Gyrations continually repeated, the
+whole Circle will appear like Fire; the reason of which is, that the
+Sensation of the Coal in the several Places of that Circle remains
+impress'd on the Sensorium, until the Coal return again to the same
+Place. And so in a quick Consecution of the Colours the Impression of
+every Colour remains in the Sensorium, until a Revolution of all the
+Colours be compleated, and that first Colour return again. The
+Impressions therefore of all the successive Colours are at once in the
+Sensorium, and jointly stir up a Sensation of them all; and so it is
+manifest by this Experiment, that the commix'd Impressions of all the
+Colours do stir up and beget a Sensation of white, that is, that
+Whiteness is compounded of all the Colours.
+
+And if the Comb be now taken away, that all the Colours may at once pass
+from the Lens to the Paper, and be there intermixed, and together
+reflected thence to the Spectator's Eyes; their Impressions on the
+Sensorium being now more subtilly and perfectly commixed there, ought
+much more to stir up a Sensation of Whiteness.
+
+You may instead of the Lens use two Prisms HIK and LMN, which by
+refracting the coloured Light the contrary Way to that of the first
+Refraction, may make the diverging Rays converge and meet again in G, as
+you see represented in the seventh Figure. For where they meet and mix,
+they will compose a white Light, as when a Lens is used.
+
+_Exper._ 11. Let the Sun's coloured Image PT [in _Fig._ 8.] fall upon
+the Wall of a dark Chamber, as in the third Experiment of the first
+Book, and let the same be viewed through a Prism _abc_, held parallel to
+the Prism ABC, by whose Refraction that Image was made, and let it now
+appear lower than before, suppose in the Place S over-against the red
+Colour T. And if you go near to the Image PT, the Spectrum S will appear
+oblong and coloured like the Image PT; but if you recede from it, the
+Colours of the spectrum S will be contracted more and more, and at
+length vanish, that Spectrum S becoming perfectly round and white; and
+if you recede yet farther, the Colours will emerge again, but in a
+contrary Order. Now that Spectrum S appears white in that Case, when the
+Rays of several sorts which converge from the several Parts of the Image
+PT, to the Prism _abc_, are so refracted unequally by it, that in their
+Passage from the Prism to the Eye they may diverge from one and the same
+Point of the Spectrum S, and so fall afterwards upon one and the same
+Point in the bottom of the Eye, and there be mingled.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 7.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 8.]
+
+And farther, if the Comb be here made use of, by whose Teeth the Colours
+at the Image PT may be successively intercepted; the Spectrum S, when
+the Comb is moved slowly, will be perpetually tinged with successive
+Colours: But when by accelerating the Motion of the Comb, the Succession
+of the Colours is so quick that they cannot be severally seen, that
+Spectrum S, by a confused and mix'd Sensation of them all, will appear
+white.
+
+_Exper._ 12. The Sun shining through a large Prism ABC [in _Fig._ 9.]
+upon a Comb XY, placed immediately behind the Prism, his Light which
+passed through the Interstices of the Teeth fell upon a white Paper DE.
+The Breadths of the Teeth were equal to their Interstices, and seven
+Teeth together with their Interstices took up an Inch in Breadth. Now,
+when the Paper was about two or three Inches distant from the Comb, the
+Light which passed through its several Interstices painted so many
+Ranges of Colours, _kl_, _mn_, _op_, _qr_, &c. which were parallel to
+one another, and contiguous, and without any Mixture of white. And these
+Ranges of Colours, if the Comb was moved continually up and down with a
+reciprocal Motion, ascended and descended in the Paper, and when the
+Motion of the Comb was so quick, that the Colours could not be
+distinguished from one another, the whole Paper by their Confusion and
+Mixture in the Sensorium appeared white.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 9.]
+
+Let the Comb now rest, and let the Paper be removed farther from the
+Prism, and the several Ranges of Colours will be dilated and expanded
+into one another more and more, and by mixing their Colours will dilute
+one another, and at length, when the distance of the Paper from the Comb
+is about a Foot, or a little more (suppose in the Place 2D 2E) they will
+so far dilute one another, as to become white.
+
+With any Obstacle, let all the Light be now stopp'd which passes through
+any one Interval of the Teeth, so that the Range of Colours which comes
+from thence may be taken away, and you will see the Light of the rest of
+the Ranges to be expanded into the Place of the Range taken away, and
+there to be coloured. Let the intercepted Range pass on as before, and
+its Colours falling upon the Colours of the other Ranges, and mixing
+with them, will restore the Whiteness.
+
+Let the Paper 2D 2E be now very much inclined to the Rays, so that the
+most refrangible Rays may be more copiously reflected than the rest, and
+the white Colour of the Paper through the Excess of those Rays will be
+changed into blue and violet. Let the Paper be as much inclined the
+contrary way, that the least refrangible Rays may be now more copiously
+reflected than the rest, and by their Excess the Whiteness will be
+changed into yellow and red. The several Rays therefore in that white
+Light do retain their colorific Qualities, by which those of any sort,
+whenever they become more copious than the rest, do by their Excess and
+Predominance cause their proper Colour to appear.
+
+And by the same way of arguing, applied to the third Experiment of this
+second Part of the first Book, it may be concluded, that the white
+Colour of all refracted Light at its very first Emergence, where it
+appears as white as before its Incidence, is compounded of various
+Colours.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 10.]
+
+_Exper._ 13. In the foregoing Experiment the several Intervals of the
+Teeth of the Comb do the Office of so many Prisms, every Interval
+producing the Phænomenon of one Prism. Whence instead of those Intervals
+using several Prisms, I try'd to compound Whiteness by mixing their
+Colours, and did it by using only three Prisms, as also by using only
+two as follows. Let two Prisms ABC and _abc_, [in _Fig._ 10.] whose
+refracting Angles B and _b_ are equal, be so placed parallel to one
+another, that the refracting Angle B of the one may touch the Angle _c_
+at the Base of the other, and their Planes CB and _cb_, at which the
+Rays emerge, may lie in Directum. Then let the Light trajected through
+them fall upon the Paper MN, distant about 8 or 12 Inches from the
+Prisms. And the Colours generated by the interior Limits B and _c_ of
+the two Prisms, will be mingled at PT, and there compound white. For if
+either Prism be taken away, the Colours made by the other will appear in
+that Place PT, and when the Prism is restored to its Place again, so
+that its Colours may there fall upon the Colours of the other, the
+Mixture of them both will restore the Whiteness.
+
+This Experiment succeeds also, as I have tried, when the Angle _b_ of
+the lower Prism, is a little greater than the Angle B of the upper, and
+between the interior Angles B and _c_, there intercedes some Space B_c_,
+as is represented in the Figure, and the refracting Planes BC and _bc_,
+are neither in Directum, nor parallel to one another. For there is
+nothing more requisite to the Success of this Experiment, than that the
+Rays of all sorts may be uniformly mixed upon the Paper in the Place PT.
+If the most refrangible Rays coming from the superior Prism take up all
+the Space from M to P, the Rays of the same sort which come from the
+inferior Prism ought to begin at P, and take up all the rest of the
+Space from thence towards N. If the least refrangible Rays coming from
+the superior Prism take up the Space MT, the Rays of the same kind which
+come from the other Prism ought to begin at T, and take up the
+remaining Space TN. If one sort of the Rays which have intermediate
+Degrees of Refrangibility, and come from the superior Prism be extended
+through the Space MQ, and another sort of those Rays through the Space
+MR, and a third sort of them through the Space MS, the same sorts of
+Rays coming from the lower Prism, ought to illuminate the remaining
+Spaces QN, RN, SN, respectively. And the same is to be understood of all
+the other sorts of Rays. For thus the Rays of every sort will be
+scattered uniformly and evenly through the whole Space MN, and so being
+every where mix'd in the same Proportion, they must every where produce
+the same Colour. And therefore, since by this Mixture they produce white
+in the Exterior Spaces MP and TN, they must also produce white in the
+Interior Space PT. This is the reason of the Composition by which
+Whiteness was produced in this Experiment, and by what other way soever
+I made the like Composition, the Result was Whiteness.
+
+Lastly, If with the Teeth of a Comb of a due Size, the coloured Lights
+of the two Prisms which fall upon the Space PT be alternately
+intercepted, that Space PT, when the Motion of the Comb is slow, will
+always appear coloured, but by accelerating the Motion of the Comb so
+much that the successive Colours cannot be distinguished from one
+another, it will appear white.
+
+_Exper._ 14. Hitherto I have produced Whiteness by mixing the Colours of
+Prisms. If now the Colours of natural Bodies are to be mingled, let
+Water a little thicken'd with Soap be agitated to raise a Froth, and
+after that Froth has stood a little, there will appear to one that shall
+view it intently various Colours every where in the Surfaces of the
+several Bubbles; but to one that shall go so far off, that he cannot
+distinguish the Colours from one another, the whole Froth will grow
+white with a perfect Whiteness.
+
+_Exper._ 15. Lastly, In attempting to compound a white, by mixing the
+coloured Powders which Painters use, I consider'd that all colour'd
+Powders do suppress and stop in them a very considerable Part of the
+Light by which they are illuminated. For they become colour'd by
+reflecting the Light of their own Colours more copiously, and that of
+all other Colours more sparingly, and yet they do not reflect the Light
+of their own Colours so copiously as white Bodies do. If red Lead, for
+instance, and a white Paper, be placed in the red Light of the colour'd
+Spectrum made in a dark Chamber by the Refraction of a Prism, as is
+described in the third Experiment of the first Part of this Book; the
+Paper will appear more lucid than the red Lead, and therefore reflects
+the red-making Rays more copiously than red Lead doth. And if they be
+held in the Light of any other Colour, the Light reflected by the Paper
+will exceed the Light reflected by the red Lead in a much greater
+Proportion. And the like happens in Powders of other Colours. And
+therefore by mixing such Powders, we are not to expect a strong and
+full White, such as is that of Paper, but some dusky obscure one, such
+as might arise from a Mixture of Light and Darkness, or from white and
+black, that is, a grey, or dun, or russet brown, such as are the Colours
+of a Man's Nail, of a Mouse, of Ashes, of ordinary Stones, of Mortar, of
+Dust and Dirt in High-ways, and the like. And such a dark white I have
+often produced by mixing colour'd Powders. For thus one Part of red
+Lead, and five Parts of _Viride Æris_, composed a dun Colour like that
+of a Mouse. For these two Colours were severally so compounded of
+others, that in both together were a Mixture of all Colours; and there
+was less red Lead used than _Viride Æris_, because of the Fulness of its
+Colour. Again, one Part of red Lead, and four Parts of blue Bise,
+composed a dun Colour verging a little to purple, and by adding to this
+a certain Mixture of Orpiment and _Viride Æris_ in a due Proportion, the
+Mixture lost its purple Tincture, and became perfectly dun. But the
+Experiment succeeded best without Minium thus. To Orpiment I added by
+little and little a certain full bright purple, which Painters use,
+until the Orpiment ceased to be yellow, and became of a pale red. Then I
+diluted that red by adding a little _Viride Æris_, and a little more
+blue Bise than _Viride Æris_, until it became of such a grey or pale
+white, as verged to no one of the Colours more than to another. For thus
+it became of a Colour equal in Whiteness to that of Ashes, or of Wood
+newly cut, or of a Man's Skin. The Orpiment reflected more Light than
+did any other of the Powders, and therefore conduced more to the
+Whiteness of the compounded Colour than they. To assign the Proportions
+accurately may be difficult, by reason of the different Goodness of
+Powders of the same kind. Accordingly, as the Colour of any Powder is
+more or less full and luminous, it ought to be used in a less or greater
+Proportion.
+
+Now, considering that these grey and dun Colours may be also produced by
+mixing Whites and Blacks, and by consequence differ from perfect Whites,
+not in Species of Colours, but only in degree of Luminousness, it is
+manifest that there is nothing more requisite to make them perfectly
+white than to increase their Light sufficiently; and, on the contrary,
+if by increasing their Light they can be brought to perfect Whiteness,
+it will thence also follow, that they are of the same Species of Colour
+with the best Whites, and differ from them only in the Quantity of
+Light. And this I tried as follows. I took the third of the
+above-mention'd grey Mixtures, (that which was compounded of Orpiment,
+Purple, Bise, and _Viride Æris_) and rubbed it thickly upon the Floor of
+my Chamber, where the Sun shone upon it through the opened Casement; and
+by it, in the shadow, I laid a Piece of white Paper of the same Bigness.
+Then going from them to the distance of 12 or 18 Feet, so that I could
+not discern the Unevenness of the Surface of the Powder, nor the little
+Shadows let fall from the gritty Particles thereof; the Powder appeared
+intensely white, so as to transcend even the Paper it self in Whiteness,
+especially if the Paper were a little shaded from the Light of the
+Clouds, and then the Paper compared with the Powder appeared of such a
+grey Colour as the Powder had done before. But by laying the Paper where
+the Sun shines through the Glass of the Window, or by shutting the
+Window that the Sun might shine through the Glass upon the Powder, and
+by such other fit Means of increasing or decreasing the Lights wherewith
+the Powder and Paper were illuminated, the Light wherewith the Powder is
+illuminated may be made stronger in such a due Proportion than the Light
+wherewith the Paper is illuminated, that they shall both appear exactly
+alike in Whiteness. For when I was trying this, a Friend coming to visit
+me, I stopp'd him at the Door, and before I told him what the Colours
+were, or what I was doing; I asked him, Which of the two Whites were the
+best, and wherein they differed? And after he had at that distance
+viewed them well, he answer'd, that they were both good Whites, and that
+he could not say which was best, nor wherein their Colours differed.
+Now, if you consider, that this White of the Powder in the Sun-shine was
+compounded of the Colours which the component Powders (Orpiment, Purple,
+Bise, and _Viride Æris_) have in the same Sun-shine, you must
+acknowledge by this Experiment, as well as by the former, that perfect
+Whiteness may be compounded of Colours.
+
+From what has been said it is also evident, that the Whiteness of the
+Sun's Light is compounded of all the Colours wherewith the several sorts
+of Rays whereof that Light consists, when by their several
+Refrangibilities they are separated from one another, do tinge Paper or
+any other white Body whereon they fall. For those Colours (by _Prop._
+II. _Part_ 2.) are unchangeable, and whenever all those Rays with those
+their Colours are mix'd again, they reproduce the same white Light as
+before.
+
+
+_PROP._ VI. PROB. II.
+
+_In a mixture of Primary Colours, the Quantity and Quality of each being
+given, to know the Colour of the Compound._
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 11.]
+
+With the Center O [in _Fig._ 11.] and Radius OD describe a Circle ADF,
+and distinguish its Circumference into seven Parts DE, EF, FG, GA, AB,
+BC, CD, proportional to the seven Musical Tones or Intervals of the
+eight Sounds, _Sol_, _la_, _fa_, _sol_, _la_, _mi_, _fa_, _sol_,
+contained in an eight, that is, proportional to the Number 1/9, 1/16,
+1/10, 1/9, 1/16, 1/16, 1/9. Let the first Part DE represent a red
+Colour, the second EF orange, the third FG yellow, the fourth CA green,
+the fifth AB blue, the sixth BC indigo, and the seventh CD violet. And
+conceive that these are all the Colours of uncompounded Light gradually
+passing into one another, as they do when made by Prisms; the
+Circumference DEFGABCD, representing the whole Series of Colours from
+one end of the Sun's colour'd Image to the other, so that from D to E be
+all degrees of red, at E the mean Colour between red and orange, from E
+to F all degrees of orange, at F the mean between orange and yellow,
+from F to G all degrees of yellow, and so on. Let _p_ be the Center of
+Gravity of the Arch DE, and _q_, _r_, _s_, _t_, _u_, _x_, the Centers of
+Gravity of the Arches EF, FG, GA, AB, BC, and CD respectively, and about
+those Centers of Gravity let Circles proportional to the Number of Rays
+of each Colour in the given Mixture be describ'd: that is, the Circle
+_p_ proportional to the Number of the red-making Rays in the Mixture,
+the Circle _q_ proportional to the Number of the orange-making Rays in
+the Mixture, and so of the rest. Find the common Center of Gravity of
+all those Circles, _p_, _q_, _r_, _s_, _t_, _u_, _x_. Let that Center be
+Z; and from the Center of the Circle ADF, through Z to the
+Circumference, drawing the Right Line OY, the Place of the Point Y in
+the Circumference shall shew the Colour arising from the Composition of
+all the Colours in the given Mixture, and the Line OZ shall be
+proportional to the Fulness or Intenseness of the Colour, that is, to
+its distance from Whiteness. As if Y fall in the middle between F and G,
+the compounded Colour shall be the best yellow; if Y verge from the
+middle towards F or G, the compound Colour shall accordingly be a
+yellow, verging towards orange or green. If Z fall upon the
+Circumference, the Colour shall be intense and florid in the highest
+Degree; if it fall in the mid-way between the Circumference and Center,
+it shall be but half so intense, that is, it shall be such a Colour as
+would be made by diluting the intensest yellow with an equal quantity of
+whiteness; and if it fall upon the center O, the Colour shall have lost
+all its intenseness, and become a white. But it is to be noted, That if
+the point Z fall in or near the line OD, the main ingredients being the
+red and violet, the Colour compounded shall not be any of the prismatick
+Colours, but a purple, inclining to red or violet, accordingly as the
+point Z lieth on the side of the line DO towards E or towards C, and in
+general the compounded violet is more bright and more fiery than the
+uncompounded. Also if only two of the primary Colours which in the
+circle are opposite to one another be mixed in an equal proportion, the
+point Z shall fall upon the center O, and yet the Colour compounded of
+those two shall not be perfectly white, but some faint anonymous Colour.
+For I could never yet by mixing only two primary Colours produce a
+perfect white. Whether it may be compounded of a mixture of three taken
+at equal distances in the circumference I do not know, but of four or
+five I do not much question but it may. But these are Curiosities of
+little or no moment to the understanding the Phænomena of Nature. For in
+all whites produced by Nature, there uses to be a mixture of all sorts
+of Rays, and by consequence a composition of all Colours.
+
+To give an instance of this Rule; suppose a Colour is compounded of
+these homogeneal Colours, of violet one part, of indigo one part, of
+blue two parts, of green three parts, of yellow five parts, of orange
+six parts, and of red ten parts. Proportional to these parts describe
+the Circles _x_, _v_, _t_, _s_, _r_, _q_, _p_, respectively, that is, so
+that if the Circle _x_ be one, the Circle _v_ may be one, the Circle _t_
+two, the Circle _s_ three, and the Circles _r_, _q_ and _p_, five, six
+and ten. Then I find Z the common center of gravity of these Circles,
+and through Z drawing the Line OY, the Point Y falls upon the
+circumference between E and F, something nearer to E than to F, and
+thence I conclude, that the Colour compounded of these Ingredients will
+be an orange, verging a little more to red than to yellow. Also I find
+that OZ is a little less than one half of OY, and thence I conclude,
+that this orange hath a little less than half the fulness or intenseness
+of an uncompounded orange; that is to say, that it is such an orange as
+may be made by mixing an homogeneal orange with a good white in the
+proportion of the Line OZ to the Line ZY, this Proportion being not of
+the quantities of mixed orange and white Powders, but of the quantities
+of the Lights reflected from them.
+
+This Rule I conceive accurate enough for practice, though not
+mathematically accurate; and the truth of it may be sufficiently proved
+to Sense, by stopping any of the Colours at the Lens in the tenth
+Experiment of this Book. For the rest of the Colours which are not
+stopp'd, but pass on to the Focus of the Lens, will there compound
+either accurately or very nearly such a Colour, as by this Rule ought to
+result from their Mixture.
+
+
+_PROP._ VII. THEOR. V.
+
+_All the Colours in the Universe which are made by Light, and depend not
+on the Power of Imagination, are either the Colours of homogeneal
+Lights, or compounded of these, and that either accurately or very
+nearly, according to the Rule of the foregoing Problem._
+
+For it has been proved (in _Prop. 1. Part 2._) that the changes of
+Colours made by Refractions do not arise from any new Modifications of
+the Rays impress'd by those Refractions, and by the various Terminations
+of Light and Shadow, as has been the constant and general Opinion of
+Philosophers. It has also been proved that the several Colours of the
+homogeneal Rays do constantly answer to their degrees of Refrangibility,
+(_Prop._ 1. _Part_ 1. and _Prop._ 2. _Part_ 2.) and that their degrees
+of Refrangibility cannot be changed by Refractions and Reflexions
+(_Prop._ 2. _Part_ 1.) and by consequence that those their Colours are
+likewise immutable. It has also been proved directly by refracting and
+reflecting homogeneal Lights apart, that their Colours cannot be
+changed, (_Prop._ 2. _Part_ 2.) It has been proved also, that when the
+several sorts of Rays are mixed, and in crossing pass through the same
+space, they do not act on one another so as to change each others
+colorific qualities. (_Exper._ 10. _Part_ 2.) but by mixing their
+Actions in the Sensorium beget a Sensation differing from what either
+would do apart, that is a Sensation of a mean Colour between their
+proper Colours; and particularly when by the concourse and mixtures of
+all sorts of Rays, a white Colour is produced, the white is a mixture of
+all the Colours which the Rays would have apart, (_Prop._ 5. _Part_ 2.)
+The Rays in that mixture do not lose or alter their several colorific
+qualities, but by all their various kinds of Actions mix'd in the
+Sensorium, beget a Sensation of a middling Colour between all their
+Colours, which is whiteness. For whiteness is a mean between all
+Colours, having it self indifferently to them all, so as with equal
+facility to be tinged with any of them. A red Powder mixed with a little
+blue, or a blue with a little red, doth not presently lose its Colour,
+but a white Powder mix'd with any Colour is presently tinged with that
+Colour, and is equally capable of being tinged with any Colour whatever.
+It has been shewed also, that as the Sun's Light is mix'd of all sorts
+of Rays, so its whiteness is a mixture of the Colours of all sorts of
+Rays; those Rays having from the beginning their several colorific
+qualities as well as their several Refrangibilities, and retaining them
+perpetually unchanged notwithstanding any Refractions or Reflexions they
+may at any time suffer, and that whenever any sort of the Sun's Rays is
+by any means (as by Reflexion in _Exper._ 9, and 10. _Part_ 1. or by
+Refraction as happens in all Refractions) separated from the rest, they
+then manifest their proper Colours. These things have been prov'd, and
+the sum of all this amounts to the Proposition here to be proved. For if
+the Sun's Light is mix'd of several sorts of Rays, each of which have
+originally their several Refrangibilities and colorific Qualities, and
+notwithstanding their Refractions and Reflexions, and their various
+Separations or Mixtures, keep those their original Properties
+perpetually the same without alteration; then all the Colours in the
+World must be such as constantly ought to arise from the original
+colorific qualities of the Rays whereof the Lights consist by which
+those Colours are seen. And therefore if the reason of any Colour
+whatever be required, we have nothing else to do than to consider how
+the Rays in the Sun's Light have by Reflexions or Refractions, or other
+causes, been parted from one another, or mixed together; or otherwise to
+find out what sorts of Rays are in the Light by which that Colour is
+made, and in what Proportion; and then by the last Problem to learn the
+Colour which ought to arise by mixing those Rays (or their Colours) in
+that proportion. I speak here of Colours so far as they arise from
+Light. For they appear sometimes by other Causes, as when by the power
+of Phantasy we see Colours in a Dream, or a Mad-man sees things before
+him which are not there; or when we see Fire by striking the Eye, or see
+Colours like the Eye of a Peacock's Feather, by pressing our Eyes in
+either corner whilst we look the other way. Where these and such like
+Causes interpose not, the Colour always answers to the sort or sorts of
+the Rays whereof the Light consists, as I have constantly found in
+whatever Phænomena of Colours I have hitherto been able to examine. I
+shall in the following Propositions give instances of this in the
+Phænomena of chiefest note.
+
+
+_PROP._ VIII. PROB. III.
+
+_By the discovered Properties of Light to explain the Colours made by
+Prisms._
+
+Let ABC [in _Fig._ 12.] represent a Prism refracting the Light of the
+Sun, which comes into a dark Chamber through a hole F[Greek: ph] almost
+as broad as the Prism, and let MN represent a white Paper on which the
+refracted Light is cast, and suppose the most refrangible or deepest
+violet-making Rays fall upon the Space P[Greek: p], the least
+refrangible or deepest red-making Rays upon the Space T[Greek: t], the
+middle sort between the indigo-making and blue-making Rays upon the
+Space Q[Greek: ch], the middle sort of the green-making Rays upon the
+Space R, the middle sort between the yellow-making and orange-making
+Rays upon the Space S[Greek: s], and other intermediate sorts upon
+intermediate Spaces. For so the Spaces upon which the several sorts
+adequately fall will by reason of the different Refrangibility of those
+sorts be one lower than another. Now if the Paper MN be so near the
+Prism that the Spaces PT and [Greek: pt] do not interfere with one
+another, the distance between them T[Greek: p] will be illuminated by
+all the sorts of Rays in that proportion to one another which they have
+at their very first coming out of the Prism, and consequently be white.
+But the Spaces PT and [Greek: pt] on either hand, will not be
+illuminated by them all, and therefore will appear coloured. And
+particularly at P, where the outmost violet-making Rays fall alone, the
+Colour must be the deepest violet. At Q where the violet-making and
+indigo-making Rays are mixed, it must be a violet inclining much to
+indigo. At R where the violet-making, indigo-making, blue-making, and
+one half of the green-making Rays are mixed, their Colours must (by the
+construction of the second Problem) compound a middle Colour between
+indigo and blue. At S where all the Rays are mixed, except the
+red-making and orange-making, their Colours ought by the same Rule to
+compound a faint blue, verging more to green than indigo. And in the
+progress from S to T, this blue will grow more and more faint and
+dilute, till at T, where all the Colours begin to be mixed, it ends in
+whiteness.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 12.]
+
+So again, on the other side of the white at [Greek: t], where the least
+refrangible or utmost red-making Rays are alone, the Colour must be the
+deepest red. At [Greek: s] the mixture of red and orange will compound a
+red inclining to orange. At [Greek: r] the mixture of red, orange,
+yellow, and one half of the green must compound a middle Colour between
+orange and yellow. At [Greek: ch] the mixture of all Colours but violet
+and indigo will compound a faint yellow, verging more to green than to
+orange. And this yellow will grow more faint and dilute continually in
+its progress from [Greek: ch] to [Greek: p], where by a mixture of all
+sorts of Rays it will become white.
+
+These Colours ought to appear were the Sun's Light perfectly white: But
+because it inclines to yellow, the Excess of the yellow-making Rays
+whereby 'tis tinged with that Colour, being mixed with the faint blue
+between S and T, will draw it to a faint green. And so the Colours in
+order from P to [Greek: t] ought to be violet, indigo, blue, very faint
+green, white, faint yellow, orange, red. Thus it is by the computation:
+And they that please to view the Colours made by a Prism will find it so
+in Nature.
+
+These are the Colours on both sides the white when the Paper is held
+between the Prism and the Point X where the Colours meet, and the
+interjacent white vanishes. For if the Paper be held still farther off
+from the Prism, the most refrangible and least refrangible Rays will be
+wanting in the middle of the Light, and the rest of the Rays which are
+found there, will by mixture produce a fuller green than before. Also
+the yellow and blue will now become less compounded, and by consequence
+more intense than before. And this also agrees with experience.
+
+And if one look through a Prism upon a white Object encompassed with
+blackness or darkness, the reason of the Colours arising on the edges is
+much the same, as will appear to one that shall a little consider it. If
+a black Object be encompassed with a white one, the Colours which appear
+through the Prism are to be derived from the Light of the white one,
+spreading into the Regions of the black, and therefore they appear in a
+contrary order to that, when a white Object is surrounded with black.
+And the same is to be understood when an Object is viewed, whose parts
+are some of them less luminous than others. For in the borders of the
+more and less luminous Parts, Colours ought always by the same
+Principles to arise from the Excess of the Light of the more luminous,
+and to be of the same kind as if the darker parts were black, but yet to
+be more faint and dilute.
+
+What is said of Colours made by Prisms may be easily applied to Colours
+made by the Glasses of Telescopes or Microscopes, or by the Humours of
+the Eye. For if the Object-glass of a Telescope be thicker on one side
+than on the other, or if one half of the Glass, or one half of the Pupil
+of the Eye be cover'd with any opake substance; the Object-glass, or
+that part of it or of the Eye which is not cover'd, may be consider'd as
+a Wedge with crooked Sides, and every Wedge of Glass or other pellucid
+Substance has the effect of a Prism in refracting the Light which passes
+through it.[L]
+
+How the Colours in the ninth and tenth Experiments of the first Part
+arise from the different Reflexibility of Light, is evident by what was
+there said. But it is observable in the ninth Experiment, that whilst
+the Sun's direct Light is yellow, the Excess of the blue-making Rays in
+the reflected beam of Light MN, suffices only to bring that yellow to a
+pale white inclining to blue, and not to tinge it with a manifestly blue
+Colour. To obtain therefore a better blue, I used instead of the yellow
+Light of the Sun the white Light of the Clouds, by varying a little the
+Experiment, as follows.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 13.]
+
+_Exper._ 16 Let HFG [in _Fig._ 13.] represent a Prism in the open Air,
+and S the Eye of the Spectator, viewing the Clouds by their Light coming
+into the Prism at the Plane Side FIGK, and reflected in it by its Base
+HEIG, and thence going out through its Plane Side HEFK to the Eye. And
+when the Prism and Eye are conveniently placed, so that the Angles of
+Incidence and Reflexion at the Base may be about 40 Degrees, the
+Spectator will see a Bow MN of a blue Colour, running from one End of
+the Base to the other, with the Concave Side towards him, and the Part
+of the Base IMNG beyond this Bow will be brighter than the other Part
+EMNH on the other Side of it. This blue Colour MN being made by nothing
+else than by Reflexion of a specular Superficies, seems so odd a
+Phænomenon, and so difficult to be explained by the vulgar Hypothesis of
+Philosophers, that I could not but think it deserved to be taken Notice
+of. Now for understanding the Reason of it, suppose the Plane ABC to cut
+the Plane Sides and Base of the Prism perpendicularly. From the Eye to
+the Line BC, wherein that Plane cuts the Base, draw the Lines S_p_ and
+S_t_, in the Angles S_pc_ 50 degr. 1/9, and S_tc_ 49 degr. 1/28, and the
+Point _p_ will be the Limit beyond which none of the most refrangible
+Rays can pass through the Base of the Prism, and be refracted, whose
+Incidence is such that they may be reflected to the Eye; and the Point
+_t_ will be the like Limit for the least refrangible Rays, that is,
+beyond which none of them can pass through the Base, whose Incidence is
+such that by Reflexion they may come to the Eye. And the Point _r_ taken
+in the middle Way between _p_ and _t_, will be the like Limit for the
+meanly refrangible Rays. And therefore all the least refrangible Rays
+which fall upon the Base beyond _t_, that is, between _t_ and B, and can
+come from thence to the Eye, will be reflected thither: But on this side
+_t_, that is, between _t_ and _c_, many of these Rays will be
+transmitted through the Base. And all the most refrangible Rays which
+fall upon the Base beyond _p_, that is, between, _p_ and B, and can by
+Reflexion come from thence to the Eye, will be reflected thither, but
+every where between _p_ and _c_, many of these Rays will get through the
+Base, and be refracted; and the same is to be understood of the meanly
+refrangible Rays on either side of the Point _r_. Whence it follows,
+that the Base of the Prism must every where between _t_ and B, by a
+total Reflexion of all sorts of Rays to the Eye, look white and bright.
+And every where between _p_ and C, by reason of the Transmission of many
+Rays of every sort, look more pale, obscure, and dark. But at _r_, and
+in other Places between _p_ and _t_, where all the more refrangible Rays
+are reflected to the Eye, and many of the less refrangible are
+transmitted, the Excess of the most refrangible in the reflected Light
+will tinge that Light with their Colour, which is violet and blue. And
+this happens by taking the Line C _prt_ B any where between the Ends of
+the Prism HG and EI.
+
+
+_PROP._ IX. PROB. IV.
+
+_By the discovered Properties of Light to explain the Colours of the
+Rain-bow._
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 14.]
+
+This Bow never appears, but where it rains in the Sun-shine, and may be
+made artificially by spouting up Water which may break aloft, and
+scatter into Drops, and fall down like Rain. For the Sun shining upon
+these Drops certainly causes the Bow to appear to a Spectator standing
+in a due Position to the Rain and Sun. And hence it is now agreed upon,
+that this Bow is made by Refraction of the Sun's Light in drops of
+falling Rain. This was understood by some of the Antients, and of late
+more fully discover'd and explain'd by the famous _Antonius de Dominis_
+Archbishop of _Spalato_, in his book _De Radiis Visûs & Lucis_,
+published by his Friend _Bartolus_ at _Venice_, in the Year 1611, and
+written above 20 Years before. For he teaches there how the interior Bow
+is made in round Drops of Rain by two Refractions of the Sun's Light,
+and one Reflexion between them, and the exterior by two Refractions, and
+two sorts of Reflexions between them in each Drop of Water, and proves
+his Explications by Experiments made with a Phial full of Water, and
+with Globes of Glass filled with Water, and placed in the Sun to make
+the Colours of the two Bows appear in them. The same Explication
+_Des-Cartes_ hath pursued in his Meteors, and mended that of the
+exterior Bow. But whilst they understood not the true Origin of Colours,
+it's necessary to pursue it here a little farther. For understanding
+therefore how the Bow is made, let a Drop of Rain, or any other
+spherical transparent Body be represented by the Sphere BNFG, [in _Fig._
+14.] described with the Center C, and Semi-diameter CN. And let AN be
+one of the Sun's Rays incident upon it at N, and thence refracted to F,
+where let it either go out of the Sphere by Refraction towards V, or be
+reflected to G; and at G let it either go out by Refraction to R, or be
+reflected to H; and at H let it go out by Refraction towards S, cutting
+the incident Ray in Y. Produce AN and RG, till they meet in X, and upon
+AX and NF, let fall the Perpendiculars CD and CE, and produce CD till it
+fall upon the Circumference at L. Parallel to the incident Ray AN draw
+the Diameter BQ, and let the Sine of Incidence out of Air into Water be
+to the Sine of Refraction as I to R. Now, if you suppose the Point of
+Incidence N to move from the Point B, continually till it come to L, the
+Arch QF will first increase and then decrease, and so will the Angle AXR
+which the Rays AN and GR contain; and the Arch QF and Angle AXR will be
+biggest when ND is to CN as sqrt(II - RR) to sqrt(3)RR, in which
+case NE will be to ND as 2R to I. Also the Angle AYS, which the Rays AN
+and HS contain will first decrease, and then increase and grow least
+when ND is to CN as sqrt(II - RR) to sqrt(8)RR, in which case NE
+will be to ND, as 3R to I. And so the Angle which the next emergent Ray
+(that is, the emergent Ray after three Reflexions) contains with the
+incident Ray AN will come to its Limit when ND is to CN as sqrt(II -
+RR) to sqrt(15)RR, in which case NE will be to ND as 4R to I. And the
+Angle which the Ray next after that Emergent, that is, the Ray emergent
+after four Reflexions, contains with the Incident, will come to its
+Limit, when ND is to CN as sqrt(II - RR) to sqrt(24)RR, in which
+case NE will be to ND as 5R to I; and so on infinitely, the Numbers 3,
+8, 15, 24, &c. being gather'd by continual Addition of the Terms of the
+arithmetical Progression 3, 5, 7, 9, &c. The Truth of all this
+Mathematicians will easily examine.[M]
+
+Now it is to be observed, that as when the Sun comes to his Tropicks,
+Days increase and decrease but a very little for a great while together;
+so when by increasing the distance CD, these Angles come to their
+Limits, they vary their quantity but very little for some time together,
+and therefore a far greater number of the Rays which fall upon all the
+Points N in the Quadrant BL, shall emerge in the Limits of these Angles,
+than in any other Inclinations. And farther it is to be observed, that
+the Rays which differ in Refrangibility will have different Limits of
+their Angles of Emergence, and by consequence according to their
+different Degrees of Refrangibility emerge most copiously in different
+Angles, and being separated from one another appear each in their proper
+Colours. And what those Angles are may be easily gather'd from the
+foregoing Theorem by Computation.
+
+For in the least refrangible Rays the Sines I and R (as was found above)
+are 108 and 81, and thence by Computation the greatest Angle AXR will be
+found 42 Degrees and 2 Minutes, and the least Angle AYS, 50 Degrees and
+57 Minutes. And in the most refrangible Rays the Sines I and R are 109
+and 81, and thence by Computation the greatest Angle AXR will be found
+40 Degrees and 17 Minutes, and the least Angle AYS 54 Degrees and 7
+Minutes.
+
+Suppose now that O [in _Fig._ 15.] is the Spectator's Eye, and OP a Line
+drawn parallel to the Sun's Rays and let POE, POF, POG, POH, be Angles
+of 40 Degr. 17 Min. 42 Degr. 2 Min. 50 Degr. 57 Min. and 54 Degr. 7 Min.
+respectively, and these Angles turned about their common Side OP, shall
+with their other Sides OE, OF; OG, OH, describe the Verges of two
+Rain-bows AF, BE and CHDG. For if E, F, G, H, be drops placed any where
+in the conical Superficies described by OE, OF, OG, OH, and be
+illuminated by the Sun's Rays SE, SF, SG, SH; the Angle SEO being equal
+to the Angle POE, or 40 Degr. 17 Min. shall be the greatest Angle in
+which the most refrangible Rays can after one Reflexion be refracted to
+the Eye, and therefore all the Drops in the Line OE shall send the most
+refrangible Rays most copiously to the Eye, and thereby strike the
+Senses with the deepest violet Colour in that Region. And in like
+manner the Angle SFO being equal to the Angle POF, or 42 Degr. 2 Min.
+shall be the greatest in which the least refrangible Rays after one
+Reflexion can emerge out of the Drops, and therefore those Rays shall
+come most copiously to the Eye from the Drops in the Line OF, and strike
+the Senses with the deepest red Colour in that Region. And by the same
+Argument, the Rays which have intermediate Degrees of Refrangibility
+shall come most copiously from Drops between E and F, and strike the
+Senses with the intermediate Colours, in the Order which their Degrees
+of Refrangibility require, that is in the Progress from E to F, or from
+the inside of the Bow to the outside in this order, violet, indigo,
+blue, green, yellow, orange, red. But the violet, by the mixture of the
+white Light of the Clouds, will appear faint and incline to purple.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 15.]
+
+Again, the Angle SGO being equal to the Angle POG, or 50 Gr. 51 Min.
+shall be the least Angle in which the least refrangible Rays can after
+two Reflexions emerge out of the Drops, and therefore the least
+refrangible Rays shall come most copiously to the Eye from the Drops in
+the Line OG, and strike the Sense with the deepest red in that Region.
+And the Angle SHO being equal to the Angle POH, or 54 Gr. 7 Min. shall
+be the least Angle, in which the most refrangible Rays after two
+Reflexions can emerge out of the Drops; and therefore those Rays shall
+come most copiously to the Eye from the Drops in the Line OH, and strike
+the Senses with the deepest violet in that Region. And by the same
+Argument, the Drops in the Regions between G and H shall strike the
+Sense with the intermediate Colours in the Order which their Degrees of
+Refrangibility require, that is, in the Progress from G to H, or from
+the inside of the Bow to the outside in this order, red, orange, yellow,
+green, blue, indigo, violet. And since these four Lines OE, OF, OG, OH,
+may be situated any where in the above-mention'd conical Superficies;
+what is said of the Drops and Colours in these Lines is to be understood
+of the Drops and Colours every where in those Superficies.
+
+Thus shall there be made two Bows of Colours, an interior and stronger,
+by one Reflexion in the Drops, and an exterior and fainter by two; for
+the Light becomes fainter by every Reflexion. And their Colours shall
+lie in a contrary Order to one another, the red of both Bows bordering
+upon the Space GF, which is between the Bows. The Breadth of the
+interior Bow EOF measured cross the Colours shall be 1 Degr. 45 Min. and
+the Breadth of the exterior GOH shall be 3 Degr. 10 Min. and the
+distance between them GOF shall be 8 Gr. 15 Min. the greatest
+Semi-diameter of the innermost, that is, the Angle POF being 42 Gr. 2
+Min. and the least Semi-diameter of the outermost POG, being 50 Gr. 57
+Min. These are the Measures of the Bows, as they would be were the Sun
+but a Point; for by the Breadth of his Body, the Breadth of the Bows
+will be increased, and their Distance decreased by half a Degree, and so
+the breadth of the interior Iris will be 2 Degr. 15 Min. that of the
+exterior 3 Degr. 40 Min. their distance 8 Degr. 25 Min. the greatest
+Semi-diameter of the interior Bow 42 Degr. 17 Min. and the least of the
+exterior 50 Degr. 42 Min. And such are the Dimensions of the Bows in the
+Heavens found to be very nearly, when their Colours appear strong and
+perfect. For once, by such means as I then had, I measured the greatest
+Semi-diameter of the interior Iris about 42 Degrees, and the breadth of
+the red, yellow and green in that Iris 63 or 64 Minutes, besides the
+outmost faint red obscured by the brightness of the Clouds, for which we
+may allow 3 or 4 Minutes more. The breadth of the blue was about 40
+Minutes more besides the violet, which was so much obscured by the
+brightness of the Clouds, that I could not measure its breadth. But
+supposing the breadth of the blue and violet together to equal that of
+the red, yellow and green together, the whole breadth of this Iris will
+be about 2-1/4 Degrees, as above. The least distance between this Iris
+and the exterior Iris was about 8 Degrees and 30 Minutes. The exterior
+Iris was broader than the interior, but so faint, especially on the blue
+side, that I could not measure its breadth distinctly. At another time
+when both Bows appeared more distinct, I measured the breadth of the
+interior Iris 2 Gr. 10´, and the breadth of the red, yellow and green in
+the exterior Iris, was to the breadth of the same Colours in the
+interior as 3 to 2.
+
+This Explication of the Rain-bow is yet farther confirmed by the known
+Experiment (made by _Antonius de Dominis_ and _Des-Cartes_) of hanging
+up any where in the Sun-shine a Glass Globe filled with Water, and
+viewing it in such a posture, that the Rays which come from the Globe to
+the Eye may contain with the Sun's Rays an Angle of either 42 or 50
+Degrees. For if the Angle be about 42 or 43 Degrees, the Spectator
+(suppose at O) shall see a full red Colour in that side of the Globe
+opposed to the Sun as 'tis represented at F, and if that Angle become
+less (suppose by depressing the Globe to E) there will appear other
+Colours, yellow, green and blue successive in the same side of the
+Globe. But if the Angle be made about 50 Degrees (suppose by lifting up
+the Globe to G) there will appear a red Colour in that side of the Globe
+towards the Sun, and if the Angle be made greater (suppose by lifting
+up the Globe to H) the red will turn successively to the other Colours,
+yellow, green and blue. The same thing I have tried, by letting a Globe
+rest, and raising or depressing the Eye, or otherwise moving it to make
+the Angle of a just magnitude.
+
+I have heard it represented, that if the Light of a Candle be refracted
+by a Prism to the Eye; when the blue Colour falls upon the Eye, the
+Spectator shall see red in the Prism, and when the red falls upon the
+Eye he shall see blue; and if this were certain, the Colours of the
+Globe and Rain-bow ought to appear in a contrary order to what we find.
+But the Colours of the Candle being very faint, the mistake seems to
+arise from the difficulty of discerning what Colours fall on the Eye.
+For, on the contrary, I have sometimes had occasion to observe in the
+Sun's Light refracted by a Prism, that the Spectator always sees that
+Colour in the Prism which falls upon his Eye. And the same I have found
+true also in Candle-light. For when the Prism is moved slowly from the
+Line which is drawn directly from the Candle to the Eye, the red appears
+first in the Prism and then the blue, and therefore each of them is seen
+when it falls upon the Eye. For the red passes over the Eye first, and
+then the blue.
+
+The Light which comes through drops of Rain by two Refractions without
+any Reflexion, ought to appear strongest at the distance of about 26
+Degrees from the Sun, and to decay gradually both ways as the distance
+from him increases and decreases. And the same is to be understood of
+Light transmitted through spherical Hail-stones. And if the Hail be a
+little flatted, as it often is, the Light transmitted may grow so strong
+at a little less distance than that of 26 Degrees, as to form a Halo
+about the Sun or Moon; which Halo, as often as the Hail-stones are duly
+figured may be colour'd, and then it must be red within by the least
+refrangible Rays, and blue without by the most refrangible ones,
+especially if the Hail-stones have opake Globules of Snow in their
+center to intercept the Light within the Halo (as _Hugenius_ has
+observ'd) and make the inside thereof more distinctly defined than it
+would otherwise be. For such Hail-stones, though spherical, by
+terminating the Light by the Snow, may make a Halo red within and
+colourless without, and darker in the red than without, as Halos used to
+be. For of those Rays which pass close by the Snow the Rubriform will be
+least refracted, and so come to the Eye in the directest Lines.
+
+The Light which passes through a drop of Rain after two Refractions, and
+three or more Reflexions, is scarce strong enough to cause a sensible
+Bow; but in those Cylinders of Ice by which _Hugenius_ explains the
+_Parhelia_, it may perhaps be sensible.
+
+
+_PROP._ X. PROB. V.
+
+_By the discovered Properties of Light to explain the permanent Colours
+of Natural Bodies._
+
+These Colours arise from hence, that some natural Bodies reflect some
+sorts of Rays, others other sorts more copiously than the rest. Minium
+reflects the least refrangible or red-making Rays most copiously, and
+thence appears red. Violets reflect the most refrangible most copiously,
+and thence have their Colour, and so of other Bodies. Every Body
+reflects the Rays of its own Colour more copiously than the rest, and
+from their excess and predominance in the reflected Light has its
+Colour.
+
+_Exper._ 17. For if in the homogeneal Lights obtained by the solution of
+the Problem proposed in the fourth Proposition of the first Part of this
+Book, you place Bodies of several Colours, you will find, as I have
+done, that every Body looks most splendid and luminous in the Light of
+its own Colour. Cinnaber in the homogeneal red Light is most
+resplendent, in the green Light it is manifestly less resplendent, and
+in the blue Light still less. Indigo in the violet blue Light is most
+resplendent, and its splendor is gradually diminish'd, as it is removed
+thence by degrees through the green and yellow Light to the red. By a
+Leek the green Light, and next that the blue and yellow which compound
+green, are more strongly reflected than the other Colours red and
+violet, and so of the rest. But to make these Experiments the more
+manifest, such Bodies ought to be chosen as have the fullest and most
+vivid Colours, and two of those Bodies are to be compared together.
+Thus, for instance, if Cinnaber and _ultra_-marine blue, or some other
+full blue be held together in the red homogeneal Light, they will both
+appear red, but the Cinnaber will appear of a strongly luminous and
+resplendent red, and the _ultra_-marine blue of a faint obscure and dark
+red; and if they be held together in the blue homogeneal Light, they
+will both appear blue, but the _ultra_-marine will appear of a strongly
+luminous and resplendent blue, and the Cinnaber of a faint and dark
+blue. Which puts it out of dispute that the Cinnaber reflects the red
+Light much more copiously than the _ultra_-marine doth, and the
+_ultra_-marine reflects the blue Light much more copiously than the
+Cinnaber doth. The same Experiment may be tried successfully with red
+Lead and Indigo, or with any other two colour'd Bodies, if due allowance
+be made for the different strength or weakness of their Colour and
+Light.
+
+And as the reason of the Colours of natural Bodies is evident by these
+Experiments, so it is farther confirmed and put past dispute by the two
+first Experiments of the first Part, whereby 'twas proved in such Bodies
+that the reflected Lights which differ in Colours do differ also in
+degrees of Refrangibility. For thence it's certain, that some Bodies
+reflect the more refrangible, others the less refrangible Rays more
+copiously.
+
+And that this is not only a true reason of these Colours, but even the
+only reason, may appear farther from this Consideration, that the Colour
+of homogeneal Light cannot be changed by the Reflexion of natural
+Bodies.
+
+For if Bodies by Reflexion cannot in the least change the Colour of any
+one sort of Rays, they cannot appear colour'd by any other means than by
+reflecting those which either are of their own Colour, or which by
+mixture must produce it.
+
+But in trying Experiments of this kind care must be had that the Light
+be sufficiently homogeneal. For if Bodies be illuminated by the ordinary
+prismatick Colours, they will appear neither of their own Day-light
+Colours, nor of the Colour of the Light cast on them, but of some middle
+Colour between both, as I have found by Experience. Thus red Lead (for
+instance) illuminated with the ordinary prismatick green will not appear
+either red or green, but orange or yellow, or between yellow and green,
+accordingly as the green Light by which 'tis illuminated is more or less
+compounded. For because red Lead appears red when illuminated with white
+Light, wherein all sorts of Rays are equally mix'd, and in the green
+Light all sorts of Rays are not equally mix'd, the Excess of the
+yellow-making, green-making and blue-making Rays in the incident green
+Light, will cause those Rays to abound so much in the reflected Light,
+as to draw the Colour from red towards their Colour. And because the red
+Lead reflects the red-making Rays most copiously in proportion to their
+number, and next after them the orange-making and yellow-making Rays;
+these Rays in the reflected Light will be more in proportion to the
+Light than they were in the incident green Light, and thereby will draw
+the reflected Light from green towards their Colour. And therefore the
+red Lead will appear neither red nor green, but of a Colour between
+both.
+
+In transparently colour'd Liquors 'tis observable, that their Colour
+uses to vary with their thickness. Thus, for instance, a red Liquor in a
+conical Glass held between the Light and the Eye, looks of a pale and
+dilute yellow at the bottom where 'tis thin, and a little higher where
+'tis thicker grows orange, and where 'tis still thicker becomes red, and
+where 'tis thickest the red is deepest and darkest. For it is to be
+conceiv'd that such a Liquor stops the indigo-making and violet-making
+Rays most easily, the blue-making Rays more difficultly, the
+green-making Rays still more difficultly, and the red-making most
+difficultly: And that if the thickness of the Liquor be only so much as
+suffices to stop a competent number of the violet-making and
+indigo-making Rays, without diminishing much the number of the rest, the
+rest must (by _Prop._ 6. _Part_ 2.) compound a pale yellow. But if the
+Liquor be so much thicker as to stop also a great number of the
+blue-making Rays, and some of the green-making, the rest must compound
+an orange; and where it is so thick as to stop also a great number of
+the green-making and a considerable number of the yellow-making, the
+rest must begin to compound a red, and this red must grow deeper and
+darker as the yellow-making and orange-making Rays are more and more
+stopp'd by increasing the thickness of the Liquor, so that few Rays
+besides the red-making can get through.
+
+Of this kind is an Experiment lately related to me by Mr. _Halley_, who,
+in diving deep into the Sea in a diving Vessel, found in a clear
+Sun-shine Day, that when he was sunk many Fathoms deep into the Water
+the upper part of his Hand on which the Sun shone directly through the
+Water and through a small Glass Window in the Vessel appeared of a red
+Colour, like that of a Damask Rose, and the Water below and the under
+part of his Hand illuminated by Light reflected from the Water below
+look'd green. For thence it may be gather'd, that the Sea-Water reflects
+back the violet and blue-making Rays most easily, and lets the
+red-making Rays pass most freely and copiously to great Depths. For
+thereby the Sun's direct Light at all great Depths, by reason of the
+predominating red-making Rays, must appear red; and the greater the
+Depth is, the fuller and intenser must that red be. And at such Depths
+as the violet-making Rays scarce penetrate unto, the blue-making,
+green-making, and yellow-making Rays being reflected from below more
+copiously than the red-making ones, must compound a green.
+
+Now, if there be two Liquors of full Colours, suppose a red and blue,
+and both of them so thick as suffices to make their Colours sufficiently
+full; though either Liquor be sufficiently transparent apart, yet will
+you not be able to see through both together. For, if only the
+red-making Rays pass through one Liquor, and only the blue-making
+through the other, no Rays can pass through both. This Mr. _Hook_ tried
+casually with Glass Wedges filled with red and blue Liquors, and was
+surprized at the unexpected Event, the reason of it being then unknown;
+which makes me trust the more to his Experiment, though I have not tried
+it my self. But he that would repeat it, must take care the Liquors be
+of very good and full Colours.
+
+Now, whilst Bodies become coloured by reflecting or transmitting this or
+that sort of Rays more copiously than the rest, it is to be conceived
+that they stop and stifle in themselves the Rays which they do not
+reflect or transmit. For, if Gold be foliated and held between your Eye
+and the Light, the Light looks of a greenish blue, and therefore massy
+Gold lets into its Body the blue-making Rays to be reflected to and fro
+within it till they be stopp'd and stifled, whilst it reflects the
+yellow-making outwards, and thereby looks yellow. And much after the
+same manner that Leaf Gold is yellow by reflected, and blue by
+transmitted Light, and massy Gold is yellow in all Positions of the Eye;
+there are some Liquors, as the Tincture of _Lignum Nephriticum_, and
+some sorts of Glass which transmit one sort of Light most copiously, and
+reflect another sort, and thereby look of several Colours, according to
+the Position of the Eye to the Light. But, if these Liquors or Glasses
+were so thick and massy that no Light could get through them, I question
+not but they would like all other opake Bodies appear of one and the
+same Colour in all Positions of the Eye, though this I cannot yet affirm
+by Experience. For all colour'd Bodies, so far as my Observation
+reaches, may be seen through if made sufficiently thin, and therefore
+are in some measure transparent, and differ only in degrees of
+Transparency from tinged transparent Liquors; these Liquors, as well as
+those Bodies, by a sufficient Thickness becoming opake. A transparent
+Body which looks of any Colour by transmitted Light, may also look of
+the same Colour by reflected Light, the Light of that Colour being
+reflected by the farther Surface of the Body, or by the Air beyond it.
+And then the reflected Colour will be diminished, and perhaps cease, by
+making the Body very thick, and pitching it on the backside to diminish
+the Reflexion of its farther Surface, so that the Light reflected from
+the tinging Particles may predominate. In such Cases, the Colour of the
+reflected Light will be apt to vary from that of the Light transmitted.
+But whence it is that tinged Bodies and Liquors reflect some sort of
+Rays, and intromit or transmit other sorts, shall be said in the next
+Book. In this Proposition I content my self to have put it past dispute,
+that Bodies have such Properties, and thence appear colour'd.
+
+
+_PROP._ XI. PROB. VI.
+
+_By mixing colour'd Lights to compound a beam of Light of the same
+Colour and Nature with a beam of the Sun's direct Light, and therein to
+experience the Truth of the foregoing Propositions._
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 16.]
+
+Let ABC _abc_ [in _Fig._ 16.] represent a Prism, by which the Sun's
+Light let into a dark Chamber through the Hole F, may be refracted
+towards the Lens MN, and paint upon it at _p_, _q_, _r_, _s_, and _t_,
+the usual Colours violet, blue, green, yellow, and red, and let the
+diverging Rays by the Refraction of this Lens converge again towards X,
+and there, by the mixture of all those their Colours, compound a white
+according to what was shewn above. Then let another Prism DEG _deg_,
+parallel to the former, be placed at X, to refract that white Light
+upwards towards Y. Let the refracting Angles of the Prisms, and their
+distances from the Lens be equal, so that the Rays which converged from
+the Lens towards X, and without Refraction, would there have crossed and
+diverged again, may by the Refraction of the second Prism be reduced
+into Parallelism and diverge no more. For then those Rays will recompose
+a beam of white Light XY. If the refracting Angle of either Prism be the
+bigger, that Prism must be so much the nearer to the Lens. You will know
+when the Prisms and the Lens are well set together, by observing if the
+beam of Light XY, which comes out of the second Prism be perfectly white
+to the very edges of the Light, and at all distances from the Prism
+continue perfectly and totally white like a beam of the Sun's Light. For
+till this happens, the Position of the Prisms and Lens to one another
+must be corrected; and then if by the help of a long beam of Wood, as is
+represented in the Figure, or by a Tube, or some other such Instrument,
+made for that Purpose, they be made fast in that Situation, you may try
+all the same Experiments in this compounded beam of Light XY, which have
+been made in the Sun's direct Light. For this compounded beam of Light
+has the same appearance, and is endow'd with all the same Properties
+with a direct beam of the Sun's Light, so far as my Observation reaches.
+And in trying Experiments in this beam you may by stopping any of the
+Colours, _p_, _q_, _r_, _s_, and _t_, at the Lens, see how the Colours
+produced in the Experiments are no other than those which the Rays had
+at the Lens before they entered the Composition of this Beam: And by
+consequence, that they arise not from any new Modifications of the Light
+by Refractions and Reflexions, but from the various Separations and
+Mixtures of the Rays originally endow'd with their colour-making
+Qualities.
+
+So, for instance, having with a Lens 4-1/4 Inches broad, and two Prisms
+on either hand 6-1/4 Feet distant from the Lens, made such a beam of
+compounded Light; to examine the reason of the Colours made by Prisms, I
+refracted this compounded beam of Light XY with another Prism HIK _kh_,
+and thereby cast the usual Prismatick Colours PQRST upon the Paper LV
+placed behind. And then by stopping any of the Colours _p_, _q_, _r_,
+_s_, _t_, at the Lens, I found that the same Colour would vanish at the
+Paper. So if the Purple _p_ was stopp'd at the Lens, the Purple P upon
+the Paper would vanish, and the rest of the Colours would remain
+unalter'd, unless perhaps the blue, so far as some purple latent in it
+at the Lens might be separated from it by the following Refractions. And
+so by intercepting the green upon the Lens, the green R upon the Paper
+would vanish, and so of the rest; which plainly shews, that as the white
+beam of Light XY was compounded of several Lights variously colour'd at
+the Lens, so the Colours which afterwards emerge out of it by new
+Refractions are no other than those of which its Whiteness was
+compounded. The Refraction of the Prism HIK _kh_ generates the Colours
+PQRST upon the Paper, not by changing the colorific Qualities of the
+Rays, but by separating the Rays which had the very same colorific
+Qualities before they enter'd the Composition of the refracted beam of
+white Light XY. For otherwise the Rays which were of one Colour at the
+Lens might be of another upon the Paper, contrary to what we find.
+
+So again, to examine the reason of the Colours of natural Bodies, I
+placed such Bodies in the Beam of Light XY, and found that they all
+appeared there of those their own Colours which they have in Day-light,
+and that those Colours depend upon the Rays which had the same Colours
+at the Lens before they enter'd the Composition of that beam. Thus, for
+instance, Cinnaber illuminated by this beam appears of the same red
+Colour as in Day-light; and if at the Lens you intercept the
+green-making and blue-making Rays, its redness will become more full and
+lively: But if you there intercept the red-making Rays, it will not any
+longer appear red, but become yellow or green, or of some other Colour,
+according to the sorts of Rays which you do not intercept. So Gold in
+this Light XY appears of the same yellow Colour as in Day-light, but by
+intercepting at the Lens a due Quantity of the yellow-making Rays it
+will appear white like Silver (as I have tried) which shews that its
+yellowness arises from the Excess of the intercepted Rays tinging that
+Whiteness with their Colour when they are let pass. So the Infusion of
+_Lignum Nephriticum_ (as I have also tried) when held in this beam of
+Light XY, looks blue by the reflected Part of the Light, and red by the
+transmitted Part of it, as when 'tis view'd in Day-light; but if you
+intercept the blue at the Lens the Infusion will lose its reflected blue
+Colour, whilst its transmitted red remains perfect, and by the loss of
+some blue-making Rays, wherewith it was allay'd, becomes more intense
+and full. And, on the contrary, if the red and orange-making Rays be
+intercepted at the Lens, the Infusion will lose its transmitted red,
+whilst its blue will remain and become more full and perfect. Which
+shews, that the Infusion does not tinge the Rays with blue and red, but
+only transmits those most copiously which were red-making before, and
+reflects those most copiously which were blue-making before. And after
+the same manner may the Reasons of other Phænomena be examined, by
+trying them in this artificial beam of Light XY.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[I] See p. 59.
+
+[J] _See our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_ II. _Sect._ II. _p._ 239.
+
+[K] _As is done in our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_ I. _Sect._ III.
+_and_ IV. _and Part_ II. _Sect._ II.
+
+[L] _See our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_ II. _Sect._ II. _pag._ 269,
+&c.
+
+[M] _This is demonstrated in our_ Author's Lect. Optic. _Part_ I.
+_Sect._ IV. _Prop._ 35 _and_ 36.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+SECOND BOOK
+
+OF
+
+OPTICKS
+
+
+
+
+_PART I._
+
+_Observations concerning the Reflexions, Refractions, and Colours of
+thin transparent Bodies._
+
+
+It has been observed by others, that transparent Substances, as Glass,
+Water, Air, &c. when made very thin by being blown into Bubbles, or
+otherwise formed into Plates, do exhibit various Colours according to
+their various thinness, altho' at a greater thickness they appear very
+clear and colourless. In the former Book I forbore to treat of these
+Colours, because they seemed of a more difficult Consideration, and were
+not necessary for establishing the Properties of Light there discoursed
+of. But because they may conduce to farther Discoveries for compleating
+the Theory of Light, especially as to the constitution of the parts of
+natural Bodies, on which their Colours or Transparency depend; I have
+here set down an account of them. To render this Discourse short and
+distinct, I have first described the principal of my Observations, and
+then consider'd and made use of them. The Observations are these.
+
+_Obs._ 1. Compressing two Prisms hard together that their sides (which
+by chance were a very little convex) might somewhere touch one another:
+I found the place in which they touched to become absolutely
+transparent, as if they had there been one continued piece of Glass. For
+when the Light fell so obliquely on the Air, which in other places was
+between them, as to be all reflected; it seemed in that place of contact
+to be wholly transmitted, insomuch that when look'd upon, it appeared
+like a black or dark spot, by reason that little or no sensible Light
+was reflected from thence, as from other places; and when looked through
+it seemed (as it were) a hole in that Air which was formed into a thin
+Plate, by being compress'd between the Glasses. And through this hole
+Objects that were beyond might be seen distinctly, which could not at
+all be seen through other parts of the Glasses where the Air was
+interjacent. Although the Glasses were a little convex, yet this
+transparent spot was of a considerable breadth, which breadth seemed
+principally to proceed from the yielding inwards of the parts of the
+Glasses, by reason of their mutual pressure. For by pressing them very
+hard together it would become much broader than otherwise.
+
+_Obs._ 2. When the Plate of Air, by turning the Prisms about their
+common Axis, became so little inclined to the incident Rays, that some
+of them began to be transmitted, there arose in it many slender Arcs of
+Colours which at first were shaped almost like the Conchoid, as you see
+them delineated in the first Figure. And by continuing the Motion of the
+Prisms, these Arcs increased and bended more and more about the said
+transparent spot, till they were compleated into Circles or Rings
+incompassing it, and afterwards continually grew more and more
+contracted.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 1.]
+
+These Arcs at their first appearance were of a violet and blue Colour,
+and between them were white Arcs of Circles, which presently by
+continuing the Motion of the Prisms became a little tinged in their
+inward Limbs with red and yellow, and to their outward Limbs the blue
+was adjacent. So that the order of these Colours from the central dark
+spot, was at that time white, blue, violet; black, red, orange, yellow,
+white, blue, violet, &c. But the yellow and red were much fainter than
+the blue and violet.
+
+The Motion of the Prisms about their Axis being continued, these Colours
+contracted more and more, shrinking towards the whiteness on either
+side of it, until they totally vanished into it. And then the Circles in
+those parts appear'd black and white, without any other Colours
+intermix'd. But by farther moving the Prisms about, the Colours again
+emerged out of the whiteness, the violet and blue at its inward Limb,
+and at its outward Limb the red and yellow. So that now their order from
+the central Spot was white, yellow, red; black; violet, blue, white,
+yellow, red, &c. contrary to what it was before.
+
+_Obs._ 3. When the Rings or some parts of them appeared only black and
+white, they were very distinct and well defined, and the blackness
+seemed as intense as that of the central Spot. Also in the Borders of
+the Rings, where the Colours began to emerge out of the whiteness, they
+were pretty distinct, which made them visible to a very great multitude.
+I have sometimes number'd above thirty Successions (reckoning every
+black and white Ring for one Succession) and seen more of them, which by
+reason of their smalness I could not number. But in other Positions of
+the Prisms, at which the Rings appeared of many Colours, I could not
+distinguish above eight or nine of them, and the Exterior of those were
+very confused and dilute.
+
+In these two Observations to see the Rings distinct, and without any
+other Colour than Black and white, I found it necessary to hold my Eye
+at a good distance from them. For by approaching nearer, although in the
+same inclination of my Eye to the Plane of the Rings, there emerged a
+bluish Colour out of the white, which by dilating it self more and more
+into the black, render'd the Circles less distinct, and left the white a
+little tinged with red and yellow. I found also by looking through a
+slit or oblong hole, which was narrower than the pupil of my Eye, and
+held close to it parallel to the Prisms, I could see the Circles much
+distincter and visible to a far greater number than otherwise.
+
+_Obs._ 4. To observe more nicely the order of the Colours which arose
+out of the white Circles as the Rays became less and less inclined to
+the Plate of Air; I took two Object-glasses, the one a Plano-convex for
+a fourteen Foot Telescope, and the other a large double Convex for one
+of about fifty Foot; and upon this, laying the other with its plane side
+downwards, I pressed them slowly together, to make the Colours
+successively emerge in the middle of the Circles, and then slowly lifted
+the upper Glass from the lower to make them successively vanish again in
+the same place. The Colour, which by pressing the Glasses together,
+emerged last in the middle of the other Colours, would upon its first
+appearance look like a Circle of a Colour almost uniform from the
+circumference to the center and by compressing the Glasses still more,
+grow continually broader until a new Colour emerged in its center, and
+thereby it became a Ring encompassing that new Colour. And by
+compressing the Glasses still more, the diameter of this Ring would
+increase, and the breadth of its Orbit or Perimeter decrease until
+another new Colour emerged in the center of the last: And so on until a
+third, a fourth, a fifth, and other following new Colours successively
+emerged there, and became Rings encompassing the innermost Colour, the
+last of which was the black Spot. And, on the contrary, by lifting up
+the upper Glass from the lower, the diameter of the Rings would
+decrease, and the breadth of their Orbit increase, until their Colours
+reached successively to the center; and then they being of a
+considerable breadth, I could more easily discern and distinguish their
+Species than before. And by this means I observ'd their Succession and
+Quantity to be as followeth.
+
+Next to the pellucid central Spot made by the contact of the Glasses
+succeeded blue, white, yellow, and red. The blue was so little in
+quantity, that I could not discern it in the Circles made by the Prisms,
+nor could I well distinguish any violet in it, but the yellow and red
+were pretty copious, and seemed about as much in extent as the white,
+and four or five times more than the blue. The next Circuit in order of
+Colours immediately encompassing these were violet, blue, green, yellow,
+and red: and these were all of them copious and vivid, excepting the
+green, which was very little in quantity, and seemed much more faint and
+dilute than the other Colours. Of the other four, the violet was the
+least in extent, and the blue less than the yellow or red. The third
+Circuit or Order was purple, blue, green, yellow, and red; in which the
+purple seemed more reddish than the violet in the former Circuit, and
+the green was much more conspicuous, being as brisk and copious as any
+of the other Colours, except the yellow, but the red began to be a
+little faded, inclining very much to purple. After this succeeded the
+fourth Circuit of green and red. The green was very copious and lively,
+inclining on the one side to blue, and on the other side to yellow. But
+in this fourth Circuit there was neither violet, blue, nor yellow, and
+the red was very imperfect and dirty. Also the succeeding Colours became
+more and more imperfect and dilute, till after three or four revolutions
+they ended in perfect whiteness. Their form, when the Glasses were most
+compress'd so as to make the black Spot appear in the center, is
+delineated in the second Figure; where _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_, _e_: _f_,
+_g_, _h_, _i_, _k_: _l_, _m_, _n_, _o_, _p_: _q_, _r_: _s_, _t_: _v_,
+_x_: _y_, _z_, denote the Colours reckon'd in order from the center,
+black, blue, white, yellow, red: violet, blue, green, yellow, red:
+purple, blue, green, yellow, red: green, red: greenish blue, red:
+greenish blue, pale red: greenish blue, reddish white.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
+
+_Obs._ 5. To determine the interval of the Glasses, or thickness of the
+interjacent Air, by which each Colour was produced, I measured the
+Diameters of the first six Rings at the most lucid part of their Orbits,
+and squaring them, I found their Squares to be in the arithmetical
+Progression of the odd Numbers, 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11. And since one of
+these Glasses was plane, and the other spherical, their Intervals at
+those Rings must be in the same Progression. I measured also the
+Diameters of the dark or faint Rings between the more lucid Colours, and
+found their Squares to be in the arithmetical Progression of the even
+Numbers, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12. And it being very nice and difficult to
+take these measures exactly; I repeated them divers times at divers
+parts of the Glasses, that by their Agreement I might be confirmed in
+them. And the same method I used in determining some others of the
+following Observations.
+
+_Obs._ 6. The Diameter of the sixth Ring at the most lucid part of its
+Orbit was 58/100 parts of an Inch, and the Diameter of the Sphere on
+which the double convex Object-glass was ground was about 102 Feet, and
+hence I gathered the thickness of the Air or Aereal Interval of the
+Glasses at that Ring. But some time after, suspecting that in making
+this Observation I had not determined the Diameter of the Sphere with
+sufficient accurateness, and being uncertain whether the Plano-convex
+Glass was truly plane, and not something concave or convex on that side
+which I accounted plane; and whether I had not pressed the Glasses
+together, as I often did, to make them touch; (For by pressing such
+Glasses together their parts easily yield inwards, and the Rings thereby
+become sensibly broader than they would be, did the Glasses keep their
+Figures.) I repeated the Experiment, and found the Diameter of the sixth
+lucid Ring about 55/100 parts of an Inch. I repeated the Experiment also
+with such an Object-glass of another Telescope as I had at hand. This
+was a double Convex ground on both sides to one and the same Sphere, and
+its Focus was distant from it 83-2/5 Inches. And thence, if the Sines of
+Incidence and Refraction of the bright yellow Light be assumed in
+proportion as 11 to 17, the Diameter of the Sphere to which the Glass
+was figured will by computation be found 182 Inches. This Glass I laid
+upon a flat one, so that the black Spot appeared in the middle of the
+Rings of Colours without any other Pressure than that of the weight of
+the Glass. And now measuring the Diameter of the fifth dark Circle as
+accurately as I could, I found it the fifth part of an Inch precisely.
+This Measure was taken with the points of a pair of Compasses on the
+upper Surface on the upper Glass, and my Eye was about eight or nine
+Inches distance from the Glass, almost perpendicularly over it, and the
+Glass was 1/6 of an Inch thick, and thence it is easy to collect that
+the true Diameter of the Ring between the Glasses was greater than its
+measur'd Diameter above the Glasses in the Proportion of 80 to 79, or
+thereabouts, and by consequence equal to 16/79 parts of an Inch, and its
+true Semi-diameter equal to 8/79 parts. Now as the Diameter of the
+Sphere (182 Inches) is to the Semi-diameter of this fifth dark Ring
+(8/79 parts of an Inch) so is this Semi-diameter to the thickness of the
+Air at this fifth dark Ring; which is therefore 32/567931 or
+100/1774784. Parts of an Inch; and the fifth Part thereof, _viz._ the
+1/88739 Part of an Inch, is the Thickness of the Air at the first of
+these dark Rings.
+
+The same Experiment I repeated with another double convex Object-glass
+ground on both sides to one and the same Sphere. Its Focus was distant
+from it 168-1/2 Inches, and therefore the Diameter of that Sphere was
+184 Inches. This Glass being laid upon the same plain Glass, the
+Diameter of the fifth of the dark Rings, when the black Spot in their
+Center appear'd plainly without pressing the Glasses, was by the measure
+of the Compasses upon the upper Glass 121/600 Parts of an Inch, and by
+consequence between the Glasses it was 1222/6000: For the upper Glass
+was 1/8 of an Inch thick, and my Eye was distant from it 8 Inches. And a
+third proportional to half this from the Diameter of the Sphere is
+5/88850 Parts of an Inch. This is therefore the Thickness of the Air at
+this Ring, and a fifth Part thereof, _viz._ the 1/88850th Part of an
+Inch is the Thickness thereof at the first of the Rings, as above.
+
+I tried the same Thing, by laying these Object-glasses upon flat Pieces
+of a broken Looking-glass, and found the same Measures of the Rings:
+Which makes me rely upon them till they can be determin'd more
+accurately by Glasses ground to larger Spheres, though in such Glasses
+greater care must be taken of a true Plane.
+
+These Dimensions were taken, when my Eye was placed almost
+perpendicularly over the Glasses, being about an Inch, or an Inch and a
+quarter, distant from the incident Rays, and eight Inches distant from
+the Glass; so that the Rays were inclined to the Glass in an Angle of
+about four Degrees. Whence by the following Observation you will
+understand, that had the Rays been perpendicular to the Glasses, the
+Thickness of the Air at these Rings would have been less in the
+Proportion of the Radius to the Secant of four Degrees, that is, of
+10000 to 10024. Let the Thicknesses found be therefore diminish'd in
+this Proportion, and they will become 1/88952 and 1/89063, or (to use
+the nearest round Number) the 1/89000th Part of an Inch. This is the
+Thickness of the Air at the darkest Part of the first dark Ring made by
+perpendicular Rays; and half this Thickness multiplied by the
+Progression, 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, &c. gives the Thicknesses of the Air at
+the most luminous Parts of all the brightest Rings, _viz._ 1/178000,
+3/178000, 5/178000, 7/178000, &c. their arithmetical Means 2/178000,
+4/178000, 6/178000, &c. being its Thicknesses at the darkest Parts of
+all the dark ones.
+
+_Obs._ 7. The Rings were least, when my Eye was placed perpendicularly
+over the Glasses in the Axis of the Rings: And when I view'd them
+obliquely they became bigger, continually swelling as I removed my Eye
+farther from the Axis. And partly by measuring the Diameter of the same
+Circle at several Obliquities of my Eye, partly by other Means, as also
+by making use of the two Prisms for very great Obliquities, I found its
+Diameter, and consequently the Thickness of the Air at its Perimeter in
+all those Obliquities to be very nearly in the Proportions express'd in
+this Table.
+
+-------------------+--------------------+----------+----------
+Angle of Incidence |Angle of Refraction |Diameter |Thickness
+ on | into | of the | of the
+ the Air. | the Air. | Ring. | Air.
+-------------------+--------------------+----------+----------
+ Deg. Min. | | |
+ | | |
+ 00 00 | 00 00 | 10 | 10
+ | | |
+ 06 26 | 10 00 | 10-1/13 | 10-2/13
+ | | |
+ 12 45 | 20 00 | 10-1/3 | 10-2/3
+ | | |
+ 18 49 | 30 00 | 10-3/4 | 11-1/2
+ | | |
+ 24 30 | 40 00 | 11-2/5 | 13
+ | | |
+ 29 37 | 50 00 | 12-1/2 | 15-1/2
+ | | |
+ 33 58 | 60 00 | 14 | 20
+ | | |
+ 35 47 | 65 00 | 15-1/4 | 23-1/4
+ | | |
+ 37 19 | 70 00 | 16-4/5 | 28-1/4
+ | | |
+ 38 33 | 75 00 | 19-1/4 | 37
+ | | |
+ 39 27 | 80 00 | 22-6/7 | 52-1/4
+ | | |
+ 40 00 | 85 00 | 29 | 84-1/12
+ | | |
+ 40 11 | 90 00 | 35 | 122-1/2
+-------------------+--------------------+----------+----------
+
+In the two first Columns are express'd the Obliquities of the incident
+and emergent Rays to the Plate of the Air, that is, their Angles of
+Incidence and Refraction. In the third Column the Diameter of any
+colour'd Ring at those Obliquities is expressed in Parts, of which ten
+constitute that Diameter when the Rays are perpendicular. And in the
+fourth Column the Thickness of the Air at the Circumference of that Ring
+is expressed in Parts, of which also ten constitute its Thickness when
+the Rays are perpendicular.
+
+And from these Measures I seem to gather this Rule: That the Thickness
+of the Air is proportional to the Secant of an Angle, whose Sine is a
+certain mean Proportional between the Sines of Incidence and Refraction.
+And that mean Proportional, so far as by these Measures I can determine
+it, is the first of an hundred and six arithmetical mean Proportionals
+between those Sines counted from the bigger Sine, that is, from the Sine
+of Refraction when the Refraction is made out of the Glass into the
+Plate of Air, or from the Sine of Incidence when the Refraction is made
+out of the Plate of Air into the Glass.
+
+_Obs._ 8. The dark Spot in the middle of the Rings increased also by the
+Obliquation of the Eye, although almost insensibly. But, if instead of
+the Object-glasses the Prisms were made use of, its Increase was more
+manifest when viewed so obliquely that no Colours appear'd about it. It
+was least when the Rays were incident most obliquely on the interjacent
+Air, and as the obliquity decreased it increased more and more until the
+colour'd Rings appear'd, and then decreased again, but not so much as it
+increased before. And hence it is evident, that the Transparency was
+not only at the absolute Contact of the Glasses, but also where they had
+some little Interval. I have sometimes observed the Diameter of that
+Spot to be between half and two fifth parts of the Diameter of the
+exterior Circumference of the red in the first Circuit or Revolution of
+Colours when view'd almost perpendicularly; whereas when view'd
+obliquely it hath wholly vanish'd and become opake and white like the
+other parts of the Glass; whence it may be collected that the Glasses
+did then scarcely, or not at all, touch one another, and that their
+Interval at the perimeter of that Spot when view'd perpendicularly was
+about a fifth or sixth part of their Interval at the circumference of
+the said red.
+
+_Obs._ 9. By looking through the two contiguous Object-glasses, I found
+that the interjacent Air exhibited Rings of Colours, as well by
+transmitting Light as by reflecting it. The central Spot was now white,
+and from it the order of the Colours were yellowish red; black, violet,
+blue, white, yellow, red; violet, blue, green, yellow, red, &c. But
+these Colours were very faint and dilute, unless when the Light was
+trajected very obliquely through the Glasses: For by that means they
+became pretty vivid. Only the first yellowish red, like the blue in the
+fourth Observation, was so little and faint as scarcely to be discern'd.
+Comparing the colour'd Rings made by Reflexion, with these made by
+transmission of the Light; I found that white was opposite to black, red
+to blue, yellow to violet, and green to a Compound of red and violet.
+That is, those parts of the Glass were black when looked through, which
+when looked upon appeared white, and on the contrary. And so those which
+in one case exhibited blue, did in the other case exhibit red. And the
+like of the other Colours. The manner you have represented in the third
+Figure, where AB, CD, are the Surfaces of the Glasses contiguous at E,
+and the black Lines between them are their Distances in arithmetical
+Progression, and the Colours written above are seen by reflected Light,
+and those below by Light transmitted (p. 209).
+
+_Obs._ 10. Wetting the Object-glasses a little at their edges, the Water
+crept in slowly between them, and the Circles thereby became less and
+the Colours more faint: Insomuch that as the Water crept along, one half
+of them at which it first arrived would appear broken off from the other
+half, and contracted into a less Room. By measuring them I found the
+Proportions of their Diameters to the Diameters of the like Circles made
+by Air to be about seven to eight, and consequently the Intervals of the
+Glasses at like Circles, caused by those two Mediums Water and Air, are
+as about three to four. Perhaps it may be a general Rule, That if any
+other Medium more or less dense than Water be compress'd between the
+Glasses, their Intervals at the Rings caused thereby will be to their
+Intervals caused by interjacent Air, as the Sines are which measure the
+Refraction made out of that Medium into Air.
+
+_Obs._ 11. When the Water was between the Glasses, if I pressed the
+upper Glass variously at its edges to make the Rings move nimbly from
+one place to another, a little white Spot would immediately follow the
+center of them, which upon creeping in of the ambient Water into that
+place would presently vanish. Its appearance was such as interjacent Air
+would have caused, and it exhibited the same Colours. But it was not
+air, for where any Bubbles of Air were in the Water they would not
+vanish. The Reflexion must have rather been caused by a subtiler Medium,
+which could recede through the Glasses at the creeping in of the Water.
+
+_Obs._ 12. These Observations were made in the open Air. But farther to
+examine the Effects of colour'd Light falling on the Glasses, I darken'd
+the Room, and view'd them by Reflexion of the Colours of a Prism cast on
+a Sheet of white Paper, my Eye being so placed that I could see the
+colour'd Paper by Reflexion in the Glasses, as in a Looking-glass. And
+by this means the Rings became distincter and visible to a far greater
+number than in the open Air. I have sometimes seen more than twenty of
+them, whereas in the open Air I could not discern above eight or nine.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
+
+_Obs._ 13. Appointing an Assistant to move the Prism to and fro about
+its Axis, that all the Colours might successively fall on that part of
+the Paper which I saw by Reflexion from that part of the Glasses, where
+the Circles appear'd, so that all the Colours might be successively
+reflected from the Circles to my Eye, whilst I held it immovable, I
+found the Circles which the red Light made to be manifestly bigger than
+those which were made by the blue and violet. And it was very pleasant
+to see them gradually swell or contract accordingly as the Colour of the
+Light was changed. The Interval of the Glasses at any of the Rings when
+they were made by the utmost red Light, was to their Interval at the
+same Ring when made by the utmost violet, greater than as 3 to 2, and
+less than as 13 to 8. By the most of my Observations it was as 14 to 9.
+And this Proportion seem'd very nearly the same in all Obliquities of my
+Eye; unless when two Prisms were made use of instead of the
+Object-glasses. For then at a certain great obliquity of my Eye, the
+Rings made by the several Colours seem'd equal, and at a greater
+obliquity those made by the violet would be greater than the same Rings
+made by the red: the Refraction of the Prism in this case causing the
+most refrangible Rays to fall more obliquely on that plate of the Air
+than the least refrangible ones. Thus the Experiment succeeded in the
+colour'd Light, which was sufficiently strong and copious to make the
+Rings sensible. And thence it may be gather'd, that if the most
+refrangible and least refrangible Rays had been copious enough to make
+the Rings sensible without the mixture of other Rays, the Proportion
+which here was 14 to 9 would have been a little greater, suppose 14-1/4
+or 14-1/3 to 9.
+
+_Obs._ 14. Whilst the Prism was turn'd about its Axis with an uniform
+Motion, to make all the several Colours fall successively upon the
+Object-glasses, and thereby to make the Rings contract and dilate: The
+Contraction or Dilatation of each Ring thus made by the variation of its
+Colour was swiftest in the red, and slowest in the violet, and in the
+intermediate Colours it had intermediate degrees of Celerity. Comparing
+the quantity of Contraction and Dilatation made by all the degrees of
+each Colour, I found that it was greatest in the red; less in the
+yellow, still less in the blue, and least in the violet. And to make as
+just an Estimation as I could of the Proportions of their Contractions
+or Dilatations, I observ'd that the whole Contraction or Dilatation of
+the Diameter of any Ring made by all the degrees of red, was to that of
+the Diameter of the same Ring made by all the degrees of violet, as
+about four to three, or five to four, and that when the Light was of the
+middle Colour between yellow and green, the Diameter of the Ring was
+very nearly an arithmetical Mean between the greatest Diameter of the
+same Ring made by the outmost red, and the least Diameter thereof made
+by the outmost violet: Contrary to what happens in the Colours of the
+oblong Spectrum made by the Refraction of a Prism, where the red is most
+contracted, the violet most expanded, and in the midst of all the
+Colours is the Confine of green and blue. And hence I seem to collect
+that the thicknesses of the Air between the Glasses there, where the
+Ring is successively made by the limits of the five principal Colours
+(red, yellow, green, blue, violet) in order (that is, by the extreme
+red, by the limit of red and yellow in the middle of the orange, by the
+limit of yellow and green, by the limit of green and blue, by the limit
+of blue and violet in the middle of the indigo, and by the extreme
+violet) are to one another very nearly as the sixth lengths of a Chord
+which found the Notes in a sixth Major, _sol_, _la_, _mi_, _fa_, _sol_,
+_la_. But it agrees something better with the Observation to say, that
+the thicknesses of the Air between the Glasses there, where the Rings
+are successively made by the limits of the seven Colours, red, orange,
+yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet in order, are to one another as the
+Cube Roots of the Squares of the eight lengths of a Chord, which found
+the Notes in an eighth, _sol_, _la_, _fa_, _sol_, _la_, _mi_, _fa_,
+_sol_; that is, as the Cube Roots of the Squares of the Numbers, 1, 8/9,
+5/6, 3/4, 2/3, 3/5, 9/16, 1/2.
+
+_Obs._ 15. These Rings were not of various Colours like those made in
+the open Air, but appeared all over of that prismatick Colour only with
+which they were illuminated. And by projecting the prismatick Colours
+immediately upon the Glasses, I found that the Light which fell on the
+dark Spaces which were between the Colour'd Rings was transmitted
+through the Glasses without any variation of Colour. For on a white
+Paper placed behind, it would paint Rings of the same Colour with those
+which were reflected, and of the bigness of their immediate Spaces. And
+from thence the origin of these Rings is manifest; namely, that the Air
+between the Glasses, according to its various thickness, is disposed in
+some places to reflect, and in others to transmit the Light of any one
+Colour (as you may see represented in the fourth Figure) and in the same
+place to reflect that of one Colour where it transmits that of another.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
+
+_Obs._ 16. The Squares of the Diameters of these Rings made by any
+prismatick Colour were in arithmetical Progression, as in the fifth
+Observation. And the Diameter of the sixth Circle, when made by the
+citrine yellow, and viewed almost perpendicularly was about 58/100 parts
+of an Inch, or a little less, agreeable to the sixth Observation.
+
+The precedent Observations were made with a rarer thin Medium,
+terminated by a denser, such as was Air or Water compress'd between two
+Glasses. In those that follow are set down the Appearances of a denser
+Medium thin'd within a rarer, such as are Plates of Muscovy Glass,
+Bubbles of Water, and some other thin Substances terminated on all sides
+with air.
+
+_Obs._ 17. If a Bubble be blown with Water first made tenacious by
+dissolving a little Soap in it, 'tis a common Observation, that after a
+while it will appear tinged with a great variety of Colours. To defend
+these Bubbles from being agitated by the external Air (whereby their
+Colours are irregularly moved one among another, so that no accurate
+Observation can be made of them,) as soon as I had blown any of them I
+cover'd it with a clear Glass, and by that means its Colours emerged in
+a very regular order, like so many concentrick Rings encompassing the
+top of the Bubble. And as the Bubble grew thinner by the continual
+subsiding of the Water, these Rings dilated slowly and overspread the
+whole Bubble, descending in order to the bottom of it, where they
+vanish'd successively. In the mean while, after all the Colours were
+emerged at the top, there grew in the center of the Rings a small round
+black Spot, like that in the first Observation, which continually
+dilated it self till it became sometimes more than 1/2 or 3/4 of an Inch
+in breadth before the Bubble broke. At first I thought there had been no
+Light reflected from the Water in that place, but observing it more
+curiously, I saw within it several smaller round Spots, which appeared
+much blacker and darker than the rest, whereby I knew that there was
+some Reflexion at the other places which were not so dark as those
+Spots. And by farther Tryal I found that I could see the Images of some
+things (as of a Candle or the Sun) very faintly reflected, not only from
+the great black Spot, but also from the little darker Spots which were
+within it.
+
+Besides the aforesaid colour'd Rings there would often appear small
+Spots of Colours, ascending and descending up and down the sides of the
+Bubble, by reason of some Inequalities in the subsiding of the Water.
+And sometimes small black Spots generated at the sides would ascend up
+to the larger black Spot at the top of the Bubble, and unite with it.
+
+_Obs._ 18. Because the Colours of these Bubbles were more extended and
+lively than those of the Air thinn'd between two Glasses, and so more
+easy to be distinguish'd, I shall here give you a farther description of
+their order, as they were observ'd in viewing them by Reflexion of the
+Skies when of a white Colour, whilst a black substance was placed
+behind the Bubble. And they were these, red, blue; red, blue; red, blue;
+red, green; red, yellow, green, blue, purple; red, yellow, green, blue,
+violet; red, yellow, white, blue, black.
+
+The three first Successions of red and blue were very dilute and dirty,
+especially the first, where the red seem'd in a manner to be white.
+Among these there was scarce any other Colour sensible besides red and
+blue, only the blues (and principally the second blue) inclined a little
+to green.
+
+The fourth red was also dilute and dirty, but not so much as the former
+three; after that succeeded little or no yellow, but a copious green,
+which at first inclined a little to yellow, and then became a pretty
+brisk and good willow green, and afterwards changed to a bluish Colour;
+but there succeeded neither blue nor violet.
+
+The fifth red at first inclined very much to purple, and afterwards
+became more bright and brisk, but yet not very pure. This was succeeded
+with a very bright and intense yellow, which was but little in quantity,
+and soon chang'd to green: But that green was copious and something more
+pure, deep and lively, than the former green. After that follow'd an
+excellent blue of a bright Sky-colour, and then a purple, which was less
+in quantity than the blue, and much inclined to red.
+
+The sixth red was at first of a very fair and lively scarlet, and soon
+after of a brighter Colour, being very pure and brisk, and the best of
+all the reds. Then after a lively orange follow'd an intense bright and
+copious yellow, which was also the best of all the yellows, and this
+changed first to a greenish yellow, and then to a greenish blue; but the
+green between the yellow and the blue, was very little and dilute,
+seeming rather a greenish white than a green. The blue which succeeded
+became very good, and of a very bright Sky-colour, but yet something
+inferior to the former blue; and the violet was intense and deep with
+little or no redness in it. And less in quantity than the blue.
+
+In the last red appeared a tincture of scarlet next to violet, which
+soon changed to a brighter Colour, inclining to an orange; and the
+yellow which follow'd was at first pretty good and lively, but
+afterwards it grew more dilute until by degrees it ended in perfect
+whiteness. And this whiteness, if the Water was very tenacious and
+well-temper'd, would slowly spread and dilate it self over the greater
+part of the Bubble; continually growing paler at the top, where at
+length it would crack in many places, and those cracks, as they dilated,
+would appear of a pretty good, but yet obscure and dark Sky-colour; the
+white between the blue Spots diminishing, until it resembled the Threds
+of an irregular Net-work, and soon after vanish'd, and left all the
+upper part of the Bubble of the said dark blue Colour. And this Colour,
+after the aforesaid manner, dilated it self downwards, until sometimes
+it hath overspread the whole Bubble. In the mean while at the top, which
+was of a darker blue than the bottom, and appear'd also full of many
+round blue Spots, something darker than the rest, there would emerge
+one or more very black Spots, and within those, other Spots of an
+intenser blackness, which I mention'd in the former Observation; and
+these continually dilated themselves until the Bubble broke.
+
+If the Water was not very tenacious, the black Spots would break forth
+in the white, without any sensible intervention of the blue. And
+sometimes they would break forth within the precedent yellow, or red, or
+perhaps within the blue of the second order, before the intermediate
+Colours had time to display themselves.
+
+By this description you may perceive how great an affinity these Colours
+have with those of Air described in the fourth Observation, although set
+down in a contrary order, by reason that they begin to appear when the
+Bubble is thickest, and are most conveniently reckon'd from the lowest
+and thickest part of the Bubble upwards.
+
+_Obs._ 19. Viewing in several oblique Positions of my Eye the Rings of
+Colours emerging on the top of the Bubble, I found that they were
+sensibly dilated by increasing the obliquity, but yet not so much by far
+as those made by thinn'd Air in the seventh Observation. For there they
+were dilated so much as, when view'd most obliquely, to arrive at a part
+of the Plate more than twelve times thicker than that where they
+appear'd when viewed perpendicularly; whereas in this case the thickness
+of the Water, at which they arrived when viewed most obliquely, was to
+that thickness which exhibited them by perpendicular Rays, something
+less than as 8 to 5. By the best of my Observations it was between 15
+and 15-1/2 to 10; an increase about 24 times less than in the other
+case.
+
+Sometimes the Bubble would become of an uniform thickness all over,
+except at the top of it near the black Spot, as I knew, because it would
+exhibit the same appearance of Colours in all Positions of the Eye. And
+then the Colours which were seen at its apparent circumference by the
+obliquest Rays, would be different from those that were seen in other
+places, by Rays less oblique to it. And divers Spectators might see the
+same part of it of differing Colours, by viewing it at very differing
+Obliquities. Now observing how much the Colours at the same places of
+the Bubble, or at divers places of equal thickness, were varied by the
+several Obliquities of the Rays; by the assistance of the 4th, 14th,
+16th and 18th Observations, as they are hereafter explain'd, I collect
+the thickness of the Water requisite to exhibit any one and the same
+Colour, at several Obliquities, to be very nearly in the Proportion
+expressed in this Table.
+
+-----------------+------------------+----------------
+ Incidence on | Refraction into | Thickness of
+ the Water. | the Water. | the Water.
+-----------------+------------------+----------------
+ Deg. Min. | Deg. Min. |
+ | |
+ 00 00 | 00 00 | 10
+ | |
+ 15 00 | 11 11 | 10-1/4
+ | |
+ 30 00 | 22 1 | 10-4/5
+ | |
+ 45 00 | 32 2 | 11-4/5
+ | |
+ 60 00 | 40 30 | 13
+ | |
+ 75 00 | 46 25 | 14-1/2
+ | |
+ 90 00 | 48 35 | 15-1/5
+-----------------+------------------+----------------
+
+In the two first Columns are express'd the Obliquities of the Rays to
+the Superficies of the Water, that is, their Angles of Incidence and
+Refraction. Where I suppose, that the Sines which measure them are in
+round Numbers, as 3 to 4, though probably the Dissolution of Soap in the
+Water, may a little alter its refractive Virtue. In the third Column,
+the Thickness of the Bubble, at which any one Colour is exhibited in
+those several Obliquities, is express'd in Parts, of which ten
+constitute its Thickness when the Rays are perpendicular. And the Rule
+found by the seventh Observation agrees well with these Measures, if
+duly apply'd; namely, that the Thickness of a Plate of Water requisite
+to exhibit one and the same Colour at several Obliquities of the Eye, is
+proportional to the Secant of an Angle, whose Sine is the first of an
+hundred and six arithmetical mean Proportionals between the Sines of
+Incidence and Refraction counted from the lesser Sine, that is, from the
+Sine of Refraction when the Refraction is made out of Air into Water,
+otherwise from the Sine of Incidence.
+
+I have sometimes observ'd, that the Colours which arise on polish'd
+Steel by heating it, or on Bell-metal, and some other metalline
+Substances, when melted and pour'd on the Ground, where they may cool in
+the open Air, have, like the Colours of Water-bubbles, been a little
+changed by viewing them at divers Obliquities, and particularly that a
+deep blue, or violet, when view'd very obliquely, hath been changed to a
+deep red. But the Changes of these Colours are not so great and
+sensible as of those made by Water. For the Scoria, or vitrified Part of
+the Metal, which most Metals when heated or melted do continually
+protrude, and send out to their Surface, and which by covering the
+Metals in form of a thin glassy Skin, causes these Colours, is much
+denser than Water; and I find that the Change made by the Obliquation of
+the Eye is least in Colours of the densest thin Substances.
+
+_Obs._ 20. As in the ninth Observation, so here, the Bubble, by
+transmitted Light, appear'd of a contrary Colour to that, which it
+exhibited by Reflexion. Thus when the Bubble being look'd on by the
+Light of the Clouds reflected from it, seemed red at its apparent
+Circumference, if the Clouds at the same time, or immediately after,
+were view'd through it, the Colour at its Circumference would be blue.
+And, on the contrary, when by reflected Light it appeared blue, it would
+appear red by transmitted Light.
+
+_Obs._ 21. By wetting very thin Plates of _Muscovy_ Glass, whose
+thinness made the like Colours appear, the Colours became more faint and
+languid, especially by wetting the Plates on that side opposite to the
+Eye: But I could not perceive any variation of their Species. So then
+the thickness of a Plate requisite to produce any Colour, depends only
+on the density of the Plate, and not on that of the ambient Medium. And
+hence, by the 10th and 16th Observations, may be known the thickness
+which Bubbles of Water, or Plates of _Muscovy_ Glass, or other
+Substances, have at any Colour produced by them.
+
+_Obs._ 22. A thin transparent Body, which is denser than its ambient
+Medium, exhibits more brisk and vivid Colours than that which is so much
+rarer; as I have particularly observed in the Air and Glass. For blowing
+Glass very thin at a Lamp Furnace, those Plates encompassed with Air did
+exhibit Colours much more vivid than those of Air made thin between two
+Glasses.
+
+_Obs._ 23. Comparing the quantity of Light reflected from the several
+Rings, I found that it was most copious from the first or inmost, and in
+the exterior Rings became gradually less and less. Also the whiteness of
+the first Ring was stronger than that reflected from those parts of the
+thin Medium or Plate which were without the Rings; as I could manifestly
+perceive by viewing at a distance the Rings made by the two
+Object-glasses; or by comparing two Bubbles of Water blown at distant
+Times, in the first of which the Whiteness appear'd, which succeeded all
+the Colours, and in the other, the Whiteness which preceded them all.
+
+_Obs._ 24. When the two Object-glasses were lay'd upon one another, so
+as to make the Rings of the Colours appear, though with my naked Eye I
+could not discern above eight or nine of those Rings, yet by viewing
+them through a Prism I have seen a far greater Multitude, insomuch that
+I could number more than forty, besides many others, that were so very
+small and close together, that I could not keep my Eye steady on them
+severally so as to number them, but by their Extent I have sometimes
+estimated them to be more than an hundred. And I believe the Experiment
+may be improved to the Discovery of far greater Numbers. For they seem
+to be really unlimited, though visible only so far as they can be
+separated by the Refraction of the Prism, as I shall hereafter explain.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 5.]
+
+But it was but one side of these Rings, namely, that towards which the
+Refraction was made, which by that Refraction was render'd distinct, and
+the other side became more confused than when view'd by the naked Eye,
+insomuch that there I could not discern above one or two, and sometimes
+none of those Rings, of which I could discern eight or nine with my
+naked Eye. And their Segments or Arcs, which on the other side appear'd
+so numerous, for the most part exceeded not the third Part of a Circle.
+If the Refraction was very great, or the Prism very distant from the
+Object-glasses, the middle Part of those Arcs became also confused, so
+as to disappear and constitute an even Whiteness, whilst on either side
+their Ends, as also the whole Arcs farthest from the Center, became
+distincter than before, appearing in the Form as you see them design'd
+in the fifth Figure.
+
+The Arcs, where they seem'd distinctest, were only white and black
+successively, without any other Colours intermix'd. But in other Places
+there appeared Colours, whose Order was inverted by the refraction in
+such manner, that if I first held the Prism very near the
+Object-glasses, and then gradually removed it farther off towards my
+Eye, the Colours of the 2d, 3d, 4th, and following Rings, shrunk towards
+the white that emerged between them, until they wholly vanish'd into it
+at the middle of the Arcs, and afterwards emerged again in a contrary
+Order. But at the Ends of the Arcs they retain'd their Order unchanged.
+
+I have sometimes so lay'd one Object-glass upon the other, that to the
+naked Eye they have all over seem'd uniformly white, without the least
+Appearance of any of the colour'd Rings; and yet by viewing them through
+a Prism, great Multitudes of those Rings have discover'd themselves. And
+in like manner Plates of _Muscovy_ Glass, and Bubbles of Glass blown at
+a Lamp-Furnace, which were not so thin as to exhibit any Colours to the
+naked Eye, have through the Prism exhibited a great Variety of them
+ranged irregularly up and down in the Form of Waves. And so Bubbles of
+Water, before they began to exhibit their Colours to the naked Eye of a
+Bystander, have appeared through a Prism, girded about with many
+parallel and horizontal Rings; to produce which Effect, it was necessary
+to hold the Prism parallel, or very nearly parallel to the Horizon, and
+to dispose it so that the Rays might be refracted upwards.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+SECOND BOOK
+
+OF
+
+OPTICKS
+
+
+_PART II._
+
+_Remarks upon the foregoing Observations._
+
+
+Having given my Observations of these Colours, before I make use of them
+to unfold the Causes of the Colours of natural Bodies, it is convenient
+that by the simplest of them, such as are the 2d, 3d, 4th, 9th, 12th,
+18th, 20th, and 24th, I first explain the more compounded. And first to
+shew how the Colours in the fourth and eighteenth Observations are
+produced, let there be taken in any Right Line from the Point Y, [in
+_Fig._ 6.] the Lengths YA, YB, YC, YD, YE, YF, YG, YH, in proportion to
+one another, as the Cube-Roots of the Squares of the Numbers, 1/2, 9/16,
+3/5, 2/3, 3/4, 5/6, 8/9, 1, whereby the Lengths of a Musical Chord to
+sound all the Notes in an eighth are represented; that is, in the
+Proportion of the Numbers 6300, 6814, 7114, 7631, 8255, 8855, 9243,
+10000. And at the Points A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, let Perpendiculars
+A[Greek: a], B[Greek: b], &c. be erected, by whose Intervals the Extent
+of the several Colours set underneath against them, is to be
+represented. Then divide the Line _A[Greek: a]_ in such Proportion as
+the Numbers 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, &c. set at the Points of
+Division denote. And through those Divisions from Y draw Lines 1I, 2K,
+3L, 5M, 6N, 7O, &c.
+
+Now, if A2 be supposed to represent the Thickness of any thin
+transparent Body, at which the outmost Violet is most copiously
+reflected in the first Ring, or Series of Colours, then by the 13th
+Observation, HK will represent its Thickness, at which the utmost Red is
+most copiously reflected in the same Series. Also by the 5th and 16th
+Observations, A6 and HN will denote the Thicknesses at which those
+extreme Colours are most copiously reflected in the second Series, and
+A10 and HQ the Thicknesses at which they are most copiously reflected in
+the third Series, and so on. And the Thickness at which any of the
+intermediate Colours are reflected most copiously, will, according to
+the 14th Observation, be defined by the distance of the Line AH from the
+intermediate parts of the Lines 2K, 6N, 10Q, &c. against which the Names
+of those Colours are written below.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 6.]
+
+But farther, to define the Latitude of these Colours in each Ring or
+Series, let A1 design the least thickness, and A3 the greatest
+thickness, at which the extreme violet in the first Series is reflected,
+and let HI, and HL, design the like limits for the extreme red, and let
+the intermediate Colours be limited by the intermediate parts of the
+Lines 1I, and 3L, against which the Names of those Colours are written,
+and so on: But yet with this caution, that the Reflexions be supposed
+strongest at the intermediate Spaces, 2K, 6N, 10Q, &c. and from thence
+to decrease gradually towards these limits, 1I, 3L, 5M, 7O, &c. on
+either side; where you must not conceive them to be precisely limited,
+but to decay indefinitely. And whereas I have assign'd the same Latitude
+to every Series, I did it, because although the Colours in the first
+Series seem to be a little broader than the rest, by reason of a
+stronger Reflexion there, yet that inequality is so insensible as
+scarcely to be determin'd by Observation.
+
+Now according to this Description, conceiving that the Rays originally
+of several Colours are by turns reflected at the Spaces 1I, L3, 5M, O7,
+9PR11, &c. and transmitted at the Spaces AHI1, 3LM5, 7OP9, &c. it is
+easy to know what Colour must in the open Air be exhibited at any
+thickness of a transparent thin Body. For if a Ruler be applied parallel
+to AH, at that distance from it by which the thickness of the Body is
+represented, the alternate Spaces 1IL3, 5MO7, &c. which it crosseth will
+denote the reflected original Colours, of which the Colour exhibited in
+the open Air is compounded. Thus if the constitution of the green in the
+third Series of Colours be desired, apply the Ruler as you see at
+[Greek: prsph], and by its passing through some of the blue at [Greek:
+p] and yellow at [Greek: s], as well as through the green at [Greek: r],
+you may conclude that the green exhibited at that thickness of the Body
+is principally constituted of original green, but not without a mixture
+of some blue and yellow.
+
+By this means you may know how the Colours from the center of the Rings
+outward ought to succeed in order as they were described in the 4th and
+18th Observations. For if you move the Ruler gradually from AH through
+all distances, having pass'd over the first Space which denotes little
+or no Reflexion to be made by thinnest Substances, it will first arrive
+at 1 the violet, and then very quickly at the blue and green, which
+together with that violet compound blue, and then at the yellow and red,
+by whose farther addition that blue is converted into whiteness, which
+whiteness continues during the transit of the edge of the Ruler from I
+to 3, and after that by the successive deficience of its component
+Colours, turns first to compound yellow, and then to red, and last of
+all the red ceaseth at L. Then begin the Colours of the second Series,
+which succeed in order during the transit of the edge of the Ruler from
+5 to O, and are more lively than before, because more expanded and
+severed. And for the same reason instead of the former white there
+intercedes between the blue and yellow a mixture of orange, yellow,
+green, blue and indigo, all which together ought to exhibit a dilute and
+imperfect green. So the Colours of the third Series all succeed in
+order; first, the violet, which a little interferes with the red of the
+second order, and is thereby inclined to a reddish purple; then the blue
+and green, which are less mix'd with other Colours, and consequently
+more lively than before, especially the green: Then follows the yellow,
+some of which towards the green is distinct and good, but that part of
+it towards the succeeding red, as also that red is mix'd with the violet
+and blue of the fourth Series, whereby various degrees of red very much
+inclining to purple are compounded. This violet and blue, which should
+succeed this red, being mixed with, and hidden in it, there succeeds a
+green. And this at first is much inclined to blue, but soon becomes a
+good green, the only unmix'd and lively Colour in this fourth Series.
+For as it verges towards the yellow, it begins to interfere with the
+Colours of the fifth Series, by whose mixture the succeeding yellow and
+red are very much diluted and made dirty, especially the yellow, which
+being the weaker Colour is scarce able to shew it self. After this the
+several Series interfere more and more, and their Colours become more
+and more intermix'd, till after three or four more revolutions (in which
+the red and blue predominate by turns) all sorts of Colours are in all
+places pretty equally blended, and compound an even whiteness.
+
+And since by the 15th Observation the Rays endued with one Colour are
+transmitted, where those of another Colour are reflected, the reason of
+the Colours made by the transmitted Light in the 9th and 20th
+Observations is from hence evident.
+
+If not only the Order and Species of these Colours, but also the precise
+thickness of the Plate, or thin Body at which they are exhibited, be
+desired in parts of an Inch, that may be also obtained by assistance of
+the 6th or 16th Observations. For according to those Observations the
+thickness of the thinned Air, which between two Glasses exhibited the
+most luminous parts of the first six Rings were 1/178000, 3/178000,
+5/178000, 7/178000, 9/178000, 11/178000 parts of an Inch. Suppose the
+Light reflected most copiously at these thicknesses be the bright
+citrine yellow, or confine of yellow and orange, and these thicknesses
+will be F[Greek: l], F[Greek: m], F[Greek: u], F[Greek: x], F[Greek: o],
+F[Greek: t]. And this being known, it is easy to determine what
+thickness of Air is represented by G[Greek: ph], or by any other
+distance of the Ruler from AH.
+
+But farther, since by the 10th Observation the thickness of Air was to
+the thickness of Water, which between the same Glasses exhibited the
+same Colour, as 4 to 3, and by the 21st Observation the Colours of thin
+Bodies are not varied by varying the ambient Medium; the thickness of a
+Bubble of Water, exhibiting any Colour, will be 3/4 of the thickness of
+Air producing the same Colour. And so according to the same 10th and
+21st Observations, the thickness of a Plate of Glass, whose Refraction
+of the mean refrangible Ray, is measured by the proportion of the Sines
+31 to 20, may be 20/31 of the thickness of Air producing the same
+Colours; and the like of other Mediums. I do not affirm, that this
+proportion of 20 to 31, holds in all the Rays; for the Sines of other
+sorts of Rays have other Proportions. But the differences of those
+Proportions are so little that I do not here consider them. On these
+Grounds I have composed the following Table, wherein the thickness of
+Air, Water, and Glass, at which each Colour is most intense and
+specifick, is expressed in parts of an Inch divided into ten hundred
+thousand equal parts.
+
+Now if this Table be compared with the 6th Scheme, you will there see
+the constitution of each Colour, as to its Ingredients, or the original
+Colours of which it is compounded, and thence be enabled to judge of its
+Intenseness or Imperfection; which may suffice in explication of the 4th
+and 18th Observations, unless it be farther desired to delineate the
+manner how the Colours appear, when the two Object-glasses are laid upon
+one another. To do which, let there be described a large Arc of a
+Circle, and a streight Line which may touch that Arc, and parallel to
+that Tangent several occult Lines, at such distances from it, as the
+Numbers set against the several Colours in the Table denote. For the
+Arc, and its Tangent, will represent the Superficies of the Glasses
+terminating the interjacent Air; and the places where the occult Lines
+cut the Arc will show at what distances from the center, or Point of
+contact, each Colour is reflected.
+
+_The thickness of colour'd Plates and Particles of_
+ _____________|_______________
+ / \
+ Air. Water. Glass.
+ |---------+----------+----------+
+ {Very black | 1/2 | 3/8 | 10/31 |
+ {Black | 1 | 3/4 | 20/31 |
+ {Beginning of | | | |
+ { Black | 2 | 1-1/2 | 1-2/7 |
+Their Colours of the {Blue | 2-2/5 | 1-4/5 | 1-11/22 |
+first Order, {White | 5-1/4 | 3-7/8 | 3-2/5 |
+ {Yellow | 7-1/9 | 5-1/3 | 4-3/5 |
+ {Orange | 8 | 6 | 5-1/6 |
+ {Red | 9 | 6-3/4 | 5-4/5 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+ {Violet | 11-1/6 | 8-3/8 | 7-1/5 |
+ {Indigo | 12-5/6 | 9-5/8 | 8-2/11 |
+ {Blue | 14 | 10-1/2 | 9 |
+ {Green | 15-1/8 | 11-2/3 | 9-5/7 |
+Of the second order, {Yellow | 16-2/7 | 12-1/5 | 10-2/5 |
+ {Orange | 17-2/9 | 13 | 11-1/9 |
+ {Bright red | 18-1/3 | 13-3/4 | 11-5/6 |
+ {Scarlet | 19-2/3 | 14-3/4 | 12-2/3 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+ {Purple | 21 | 15-3/4 | 13-11/20 |
+ {Indigo | 22-1/10 | 16-4/7 | 14-1/4 |
+ {Blue | 23-2/5 | 17-11/20 | 15-1/10 |
+Of the third Order, {Green | 25-1/5 | 18-9/10 | 16-1/4 |
+ {Yellow | 27-1/7 | 20-1/3 | 17-1/2 |
+ {Red | 29 | 21-3/4 | 18-5/7 |
+ {Bluish red | 32 | 24 | 20-2/3 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+ {Bluish green | 34 | 25-1/2 | 22 |
+ {Green | 35-2/7 | 26-1/2 | 22-3/4 |
+Of the fourth Order, {Yellowish green | 36 | 27 | 23-2/9 |
+ {Red | 40-1/3 | 30-1/4 | 26 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+ {Greenish blue | 46 | 34-1/2 | 29-2/3 |
+Of the fifth Order, {Red | 52-1/2 | 39-3/8 | 34 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+ {Greenish blue | 58-3/4 | 44 | 38 |
+Of the sixth Order, {Red | 65 | 48-3/4 | 42 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+Of the seventh Order, {Greenish blue | 71 | 53-1/4 | 45-4/5 |
+ {Ruddy White | 77 | 57-3/4 | 49-2/3 |
+ |---------+----------+----------|
+
+There are also other Uses of this Table: For by its assistance the
+thickness of the Bubble in the 19th Observation was determin'd by the
+Colours which it exhibited. And so the bigness of the parts of natural
+Bodies may be conjectured by their Colours, as shall be hereafter shewn.
+Also, if two or more very thin Plates be laid one upon another, so as to
+compose one Plate equalling them all in thickness, the resulting Colour
+may be hereby determin'd. For instance, Mr. _Hook_ observed, as is
+mentioned in his _Micrographia_, that a faint yellow Plate of _Muscovy_
+Glass laid upon a blue one, constituted a very deep purple. The yellow
+of the first Order is a faint one, and the thickness of the Plate
+exhibiting it, according to the Table is 4-3/5, to which add 9, the
+thickness exhibiting blue of the second Order, and the Sum will be
+13-3/5, which is the thickness exhibiting the purple of the third Order.
+
+To explain, in the next place, the circumstances of the 2d and 3d
+Observations; that is, how the Rings of the Colours may (by turning the
+Prisms about their common Axis the contrary way to that expressed in
+those Observations) be converted into white and black Rings, and
+afterwards into Rings of Colours again, the Colours of each Ring lying
+now in an inverted order; it must be remember'd, that those Rings of
+Colours are dilated by the obliquation of the Rays to the Air which
+intercedes the Glasses, and that according to the Table in the 7th
+Observation, their Dilatation or Increase of their Diameter is most
+manifest and speedy when they are obliquest. Now the Rays of yellow
+being more refracted by the first Superficies of the said Air than those
+of red, are thereby made more oblique to the second Superficies, at
+which they are reflected to produce the colour'd Rings, and consequently
+the yellow Circle in each Ring will be more dilated than the red; and
+the Excess of its Dilatation will be so much the greater, by how much
+the greater is the obliquity of the Rays, until at last it become of
+equal extent with the red of the same Ring. And for the same reason the
+green, blue and violet, will be also so much dilated by the still
+greater obliquity of their Rays, as to become all very nearly of equal
+extent with the red, that is, equally distant from the center of the
+Rings. And then all the Colours of the same Ring must be co-incident,
+and by their mixture exhibit a white Ring. And these white Rings must
+have black and dark Rings between them, because they do not spread and
+interfere with one another, as before. And for that reason also they
+must become distincter, and visible to far greater numbers. But yet the
+violet being obliquest will be something more dilated, in proportion to
+its extent, than the other Colours, and so very apt to appear at the
+exterior Verges of the white.
+
+Afterwards, by a greater obliquity of the Rays, the violet and blue
+become more sensibly dilated than the red and yellow, and so being
+farther removed from the center of the Rings, the Colours must emerge
+out of the white in an order contrary to that which they had before; the
+violet and blue at the exterior Limbs of each Ring, and the red and
+yellow at the interior. And the violet, by reason of the greatest
+obliquity of its Rays, being in proportion most of all expanded, will
+soonest appear at the exterior Limb of each white Ring, and become more
+conspicuous than the rest. And the several Series of Colours belonging
+to the several Rings, will, by their unfolding and spreading, begin
+again to interfere, and thereby render the Rings less distinct, and not
+visible to so great numbers.
+
+If instead of the Prisms the Object-glasses be made use of, the Rings
+which they exhibit become not white and distinct by the obliquity of the
+Eye, by reason that the Rays in their passage through that Air which
+intercedes the Glasses are very nearly parallel to those Lines in which
+they were first incident on the Glasses, and consequently the Rays
+endued with several Colours are not inclined one more than another to
+that Air, as it happens in the Prisms.
+
+There is yet another circumstance of these Experiments to be consider'd,
+and that is why the black and white Rings which when view'd at a
+distance appear distinct, should not only become confused by viewing
+them near at hand, but also yield a violet Colour at both the edges of
+every white Ring. And the reason is, that the Rays which enter the Eye
+at several parts of the Pupil, have several Obliquities to the Glasses,
+and those which are most oblique, if consider'd apart, would represent
+the Rings bigger than those which are the least oblique. Whence the
+breadth of the Perimeter of every white Ring is expanded outwards by the
+obliquest Rays, and inwards by the least oblique. And this Expansion is
+so much the greater by how much the greater is the difference of the
+Obliquity; that is, by how much the Pupil is wider, or the Eye nearer to
+the Glasses. And the breadth of the violet must be most expanded,
+because the Rays apt to excite a Sensation of that Colour are most
+oblique to a second or farther Superficies of the thinn'd Air at which
+they are reflected, and have also the greatest variation of Obliquity,
+which makes that Colour soonest emerge out of the edges of the white.
+And as the breadth of every Ring is thus augmented, the dark Intervals
+must be diminish'd, until the neighbouring Rings become continuous, and
+are blended, the exterior first, and then those nearer the center; so
+that they can no longer be distinguish'd apart, but seem to constitute
+an even and uniform whiteness.
+
+Among all the Observations there is none accompanied with so odd
+circumstances as the twenty-fourth. Of those the principal are, that in
+thin Plates, which to the naked Eye seem of an even and uniform
+transparent whiteness, without any terminations of Shadows, the
+Refraction of a Prism should make Rings of Colours appear, whereas it
+usually makes Objects appear colour'd only there where they are
+terminated with Shadows, or have parts unequally luminous; and that it
+should make those Rings exceedingly distinct and white, although it
+usually renders Objects confused and coloured. The Cause of these things
+you will understand by considering, that all the Rings of Colours are
+really in the Plate, when view'd with the naked Eye, although by reason
+of the great breadth of their Circumferences they so much interfere and
+are blended together, that they seem to constitute an uniform whiteness.
+But when the Rays pass through the Prism to the Eye, the Orbits of the
+several Colours in every Ring are refracted, some more than others,
+according to their degrees of Refrangibility: By which means the Colours
+on one side of the Ring (that is in the circumference on one side of its
+center), become more unfolded and dilated, and those on the other side
+more complicated and contracted. And where by a due Refraction they are
+so much contracted, that the several Rings become narrower than to
+interfere with one another, they must appear distinct, and also white,
+if the constituent Colours be so much contracted as to be wholly
+co-incident. But on the other side, where the Orbit of every Ring is
+made broader by the farther unfolding of its Colours, it must interfere
+more with other Rings than before, and so become less distinct.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 7.]
+
+To explain this a little farther, suppose the concentrick Circles AV,
+and BX, [in _Fig._ 7.] represent the red and violet of any Order, which,
+together with the intermediate Colours, constitute any one of these
+Rings. Now these being view'd through a Prism, the violet Circle BX,
+will, by a greater Refraction, be farther translated from its place than
+the red AV, and so approach nearer to it on that side of the Circles,
+towards which the Refractions are made. For instance, if the red be
+translated to _av_, the violet may be translated to _bx_, so as to
+approach nearer to it at _x_ than before; and if the red be farther
+translated to av, the violet may be so much farther translated to bx as
+to convene with it at x; and if the red be yet farther translated to
+[Greek: aY], the violet may be still so much farther translated to
+[Greek: bx] as to pass beyond it at [Greek: x], and convene with it at
+_e_ and _f_. And this being understood not only of the red and violet,
+but of all the other intermediate Colours, and also of every revolution
+of those Colours, you will easily perceive how those of the same
+revolution or order, by their nearness at _xv_ and [Greek: Yx], and
+their coincidence at xv, _e_ and _f_, ought to constitute pretty
+distinct Arcs of Circles, especially at xv, or at _e_ and _f_; and that
+they will appear severally at _x_[Greek: u] and at xv exhibit whiteness
+by their coincidence, and again appear severally at [Greek: Yx], but yet
+in a contrary order to that which they had before, and still retain
+beyond _e_ and _f_. But on the other side, at _ab_, ab, or [Greek: ab],
+these Colours must become much more confused by being dilated and spread
+so as to interfere with those of other Orders. And the same confusion
+will happen at [Greek: Ux] between _e_ and _f_, if the Refraction be
+very great, or the Prism very distant from the Object-glasses: In which
+case no parts of the Rings will be seen, save only two little Arcs at
+_e_ and _f_, whose distance from one another will be augmented by
+removing the Prism still farther from the Object-glasses: And these
+little Arcs must be distinctest and whitest at their middle, and at
+their ends, where they begin to grow confused, they must be colour'd.
+And the Colours at one end of every Arc must be in a contrary order to
+those at the other end, by reason that they cross in the intermediate
+white; namely, their ends, which verge towards [Greek: Ux], will be red
+and yellow on that side next the center, and blue and violet on the
+other side. But their other ends which verge from [Greek: Ux], will on
+the contrary be blue and violet on that side towards the center, and on
+the other side red and yellow.
+
+Now as all these things follow from the properties of Light by a
+mathematical way of reasoning, so the truth of them may be manifested by
+Experiments. For in a dark Room, by viewing these Rings through a Prism,
+by reflexion of the several prismatick Colours, which an assistant
+causes to move to and fro upon a Wall or Paper from whence they are
+reflected, whilst the Spectator's Eye, the Prism, and the
+Object-glasses, (as in the 13th Observation,) are placed steady; the
+Position of the Circles made successively by the several Colours, will
+be found such, in respect of one another, as I have described in the
+Figures _abxv_, or abxv, or _[Greek: abxU]_. And by the same method the
+truth of the Explications of other Observations may be examined.
+
+By what hath been said, the like Phænomena of Water and thin Plates of
+Glass may be understood. But in small fragments of those Plates there is
+this farther observable, that where they lie flat upon a Table, and are
+turned about their centers whilst they are view'd through a Prism, they
+will in some postures exhibit Waves of various Colours; and some of them
+exhibit these Waves in one or two Positions only, but the most of them
+do in all Positions exhibit them, and make them for the most part appear
+almost all over the Plates. The reason is, that the Superficies of such
+Plates are not even, but have many Cavities and Swellings, which, how
+shallow soever, do a little vary the thickness of the Plate. For at the
+several sides of those Cavities, for the Reasons newly described, there
+ought to be produced Waves in several postures of the Prism. Now though
+it be but some very small and narrower parts of the Glass, by which
+these Waves for the most part are caused, yet they may seem to extend
+themselves over the whole Glass, because from the narrowest of those
+parts there are Colours of several Orders, that is, of several Rings,
+confusedly reflected, which by Refraction of the Prism are unfolded,
+separated, and, according to their degrees of Refraction, dispersed to
+several places, so as to constitute so many several Waves, as there were
+divers orders of Colours promiscuously reflected from that part of the
+Glass.
+
+These are the principal Phænomena of thin Plates or Bubbles, whose
+Explications depend on the properties of Light, which I have heretofore
+deliver'd. And these you see do necessarily follow from them, and agree
+with them, even to their very least circumstances; and not only so, but
+do very much tend to their proof. Thus, by the 24th Observation it
+appears, that the Rays of several Colours, made as well by thin Plates
+or Bubbles, as by Refractions of a Prism, have several degrees of
+Refrangibility; whereby those of each order, which at the reflexion from
+the Plate or Bubble are intermix'd with those of other orders, are
+separated from them by Refraction, and associated together so as to
+become visible by themselves like Arcs of Circles. For if the Rays were
+all alike refrangible, 'tis impossible that the whiteness, which to the
+naked Sense appears uniform, should by Refraction have its parts
+transposed and ranged into those black and white Arcs.
+
+It appears also that the unequal Refractions of difform Rays proceed not
+from any contingent irregularities; such as are Veins, an uneven Polish,
+or fortuitous Position of the Pores of Glass; unequal and casual Motions
+in the Air or Æther, the spreading, breaking, or dividing the same Ray
+into many diverging parts; or the like. For, admitting any such
+irregularities, it would be impossible for Refractions to render those
+Rings so very distinct, and well defined, as they do in the 24th
+Observation. It is necessary therefore that every Ray have its proper
+and constant degree of Refrangibility connate with it, according to
+which its refraction is ever justly and regularly perform'd; and that
+several Rays have several of those degrees.
+
+And what is said of their Refrangibility may be also understood of their
+Reflexibility, that is, of their Dispositions to be reflected, some at a
+greater, and others at a less thickness of thin Plates or Bubbles;
+namely, that those Dispositions are also connate with the Rays, and
+immutable; as may appear by the 13th, 14th, and 15th Observations,
+compared with the fourth and eighteenth.
+
+By the Precedent Observations it appears also, that whiteness is a
+dissimilar mixture of all Colours, and that Light is a mixture of Rays
+endued with all those Colours. For, considering the multitude of the
+Rings of Colours in the 3d, 12th, and 24th Observations, it is manifest,
+that although in the 4th and 18th Observations there appear no more than
+eight or nine of those Rings, yet there are really a far greater number,
+which so much interfere and mingle with one another, as after those
+eight or nine revolutions to dilute one another wholly, and constitute
+an even and sensibly uniform whiteness. And consequently that whiteness
+must be allow'd a mixture of all Colours, and the Light which conveys it
+to the Eye must be a mixture of Rays endued with all those Colours.
+
+But farther; by the 24th Observation it appears, that there is a
+constant relation between Colours and Refrangibility; the most
+refrangible Rays being violet, the least refrangible red, and those of
+intermediate Colours having proportionably intermediate degrees of
+Refrangibility. And by the 13th, 14th, and 15th Observations, compared
+with the 4th or 18th there appears to be the same constant relation
+between Colour and Reflexibility; the violet being in like circumstances
+reflected at least thicknesses of any thin Plate or Bubble, the red at
+greatest thicknesses, and the intermediate Colours at intermediate
+thicknesses. Whence it follows, that the colorifick Dispositions of
+Rays are also connate with them, and immutable; and by consequence, that
+all the Productions and Appearances of Colours in the World are derived,
+not from any physical Change caused in Light by Refraction or Reflexion,
+but only from the various Mixtures or Separations of Rays, by virtue of
+their different Refrangibility or Reflexibility. And in this respect the
+Science of Colours becomes a Speculation as truly mathematical as any
+other part of Opticks. I mean, so far as they depend on the Nature of
+Light, and are not produced or alter'd by the Power of Imagination, or
+by striking or pressing the Eye.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+SECOND BOOK
+
+OF
+
+OPTICKS
+
+
+_PART III._
+
+_Of the permanent Colours of natural Bodies, and the Analogy between
+them and the Colours of thin transparent Plates._
+
+I am now come to another part of this Design, which is to consider how
+the Phænomena of thin transparent Plates stand related to those of all
+other natural Bodies. Of these Bodies I have already told you that they
+appear of divers Colours, accordingly as they are disposed to reflect
+most copiously the Rays originally endued with those Colours. But their
+Constitutions, whereby they reflect some Rays more copiously than
+others, remain to be discover'd; and these I shall endeavour to manifest
+in the following Propositions.
+
+
+PROP. I.
+
+_Those Superficies of transparent Bodies reflect the greatest quantity
+of Light, which have the greatest refracting Power; that is, which
+intercede Mediums that differ most in their refractive Densities. And in
+the Confines of equally refracting Mediums there is no Reflexion._
+
+The Analogy between Reflexion and Refraction will appear by considering,
+that when Light passeth obliquely out of one Medium into another which
+refracts from the perpendicular, the greater is the difference of their
+refractive Density, the less Obliquity of Incidence is requisite to
+cause a total Reflexion. For as the Sines are which measure the
+Refraction, so is the Sine of Incidence at which the total Reflexion
+begins, to the Radius of the Circle; and consequently that Angle of
+Incidence is least where there is the greatest difference of the Sines.
+Thus in the passing of Light out of Water into Air, where the Refraction
+is measured by the Ratio of the Sines 3 to 4, the total Reflexion begins
+when the Angle of Incidence is about 48 Degrees 35 Minutes. In passing
+out of Glass into Air, where the Refraction is measured by the Ratio of
+the Sines 20 to 31, the total Reflexion begins when the Angle of
+Incidence is 40 Degrees 10 Minutes; and so in passing out of Crystal, or
+more strongly refracting Mediums into Air, there is still a less
+obliquity requisite to cause a total reflexion. Superficies therefore
+which refract most do soonest reflect all the Light which is incident on
+them, and so must be allowed most strongly reflexive.
+
+But the truth of this Proposition will farther appear by observing, that
+in the Superficies interceding two transparent Mediums, (such as are
+Air, Water, Oil, common Glass, Crystal, metalline Glasses, Island
+Glasses, white transparent Arsenick, Diamonds, &c.) the Reflexion is
+stronger or weaker accordingly, as the Superficies hath a greater or
+less refracting Power. For in the Confine of Air and Sal-gem 'tis
+stronger than in the Confine of Air and Water, and still stronger in the
+Confine of Air and common Glass or Crystal, and stronger in the Confine
+of Air and a Diamond. If any of these, and such like transparent Solids,
+be immerged in Water, its Reflexion becomes, much weaker than before;
+and still weaker if they be immerged in the more strongly refracting
+Liquors of well rectified Oil of Vitriol or Spirit of Turpentine. If
+Water be distinguish'd into two parts by any imaginary Surface, the
+Reflexion in the Confine of those two parts is none at all. In the
+Confine of Water and Ice 'tis very little; in that of Water and Oil 'tis
+something greater; in that of Water and Sal-gem still greater; and in
+that of Water and Glass, or Crystal or other denser Substances still
+greater, accordingly as those Mediums differ more or less in their
+refracting Powers. Hence in the Confine of common Glass and Crystal,
+there ought to be a weak Reflexion, and a stronger Reflexion in the
+Confine of common and metalline Glass; though I have not yet tried
+this. But in the Confine of two Glasses of equal density, there is not
+any sensible Reflexion; as was shewn in the first Observation. And the
+same may be understood of the Superficies interceding two Crystals, or
+two Liquors, or any other Substances in which no Refraction is caused.
+So then the reason why uniform pellucid Mediums (such as Water, Glass,
+or Crystal,) have no sensible Reflexion but in their external
+Superficies, where they are adjacent to other Mediums of a different
+density, is because all their contiguous parts have one and the same
+degree of density.
+
+
+PROP. II.
+
+_The least parts of almost all natural Bodies are in some measure
+transparent: And the Opacity of those Bodies ariseth from the multitude
+of Reflexions caused in their internal Parts._
+
+That this is so has been observed by others, and will easily be granted
+by them that have been conversant with Microscopes. And it may be also
+tried by applying any substance to a hole through which some Light is
+immitted into a dark Room. For how opake soever that Substance may seem
+in the open Air, it will by that means appear very manifestly
+transparent, if it be of a sufficient thinness. Only white metalline
+Bodies must be excepted, which by reason of their excessive density seem
+to reflect almost all the Light incident on their first Superficies;
+unless by solution in Menstruums they be reduced into very small
+Particles, and then they become transparent.
+
+
+PROP. III.
+
+_Between the parts of opake and colour'd Bodies are many Spaces, either
+empty, or replenish'd with Mediums of other Densities; as Water between
+the tinging Corpuscles wherewith any Liquor is impregnated, Air between
+the aqueous Globules that constitute Clouds or Mists; and for the most
+part Spaces void of both Air and Water, but yet perhaps not wholly void
+of all Substance, between the parts of hard Bodies._
+
+The truth of this is evinced by the two precedent Propositions: For by
+the second Proposition there are many Reflexions made by the internal
+parts of Bodies, which, by the first Proposition, would not happen if
+the parts of those Bodies were continued without any such Interstices
+between them; because Reflexions are caused only in Superficies, which
+intercede Mediums of a differing density, by _Prop._ 1.
+
+But farther, that this discontinuity of parts is the principal Cause of
+the opacity of Bodies, will appear by considering, that opake Substances
+become transparent by filling their Pores with any Substance of equal or
+almost equal density with their parts. Thus Paper dipped in Water or
+Oil, the _Oculus Mundi_ Stone steep'd in Water, Linnen Cloth oiled or
+varnish'd, and many other Substances soaked in such Liquors as will
+intimately pervade their little Pores, become by that means more
+transparent than otherwise; so, on the contrary, the most transparent
+Substances, may, by evacuating their Pores, or separating their parts,
+be render'd sufficiently opake; as Salts or wet Paper, or the _Oculus
+Mundi_ Stone by being dried, Horn by being scraped, Glass by being
+reduced to Powder, or otherwise flawed; Turpentine by being stirred
+about with Water till they mix imperfectly, and Water by being form'd
+into many small Bubbles, either alone in the form of Froth, or by
+shaking it together with Oil of Turpentine, or Oil Olive, or with some
+other convenient Liquor, with which it will not perfectly incorporate.
+And to the increase of the opacity of these Bodies, it conduces
+something, that by the 23d Observation the Reflexions of very thin
+transparent Substances are considerably stronger than those made by the
+same Substances of a greater thickness.
+
+
+PROP. IV.
+
+_The Parts of Bodies and their Interstices must not be less than of some
+definite bigness, to render them opake and colour'd._
+
+For the opakest Bodies, if their parts be subtilly divided, (as Metals,
+by being dissolved in acid Menstruums, &c.) become perfectly
+transparent. And you may also remember, that in the eighth Observation
+there was no sensible reflexion at the Superficies of the
+Object-glasses, where they were very near one another, though they did
+not absolutely touch. And in the 17th Observation the Reflexion of the
+Water-bubble where it became thinnest was almost insensible, so as to
+cause very black Spots to appear on the top of the Bubble, by the want
+of reflected Light.
+
+On these grounds I perceive it is that Water, Salt, Glass, Stones, and
+such like Substances, are transparent. For, upon divers Considerations,
+they seem to be as full of Pores or Interstices between their parts as
+other Bodies are, but yet their Parts and Interstices to be too small to
+cause Reflexions in their common Surfaces.
+
+
+PROP. V.
+
+_The transparent parts of Bodies, according to their several sizes,
+reflect Rays of one Colour, and transmit those of another, on the same
+grounds that thin Plates or Bubbles do reflect or transmit those Rays.
+And this I take to be the ground of all their Colours._
+
+For if a thinn'd or plated Body, which being of an even thickness,
+appears all over of one uniform Colour, should be slit into Threads, or
+broken into Fragments, of the same thickness with the Plate; I see no
+reason why every Thread or Fragment should not keep its Colour, and by
+consequence why a heap of those Threads or Fragments should not
+constitute a Mass or Powder of the same Colour, which the Plate
+exhibited before it was broken. And the parts of all natural Bodies
+being like so many Fragments of a Plate, must on the same grounds
+exhibit the same Colours.
+
+Now, that they do so will appear by the affinity of their Properties.
+The finely colour'd Feathers of some Birds, and particularly those of
+Peacocks Tails, do, in the very same part of the Feather, appear of
+several Colours in several Positions of the Eye, after the very same
+manner that thin Plates were found to do in the 7th and 19th
+Observations, and therefore their Colours arise from the thinness of the
+transparent parts of the Feathers; that is, from the slenderness of the
+very fine Hairs, or _Capillamenta_, which grow out of the sides of the
+grosser lateral Branches or Fibres of those Feathers. And to the same
+purpose it is, that the Webs of some Spiders, by being spun very fine,
+have appeared colour'd, as some have observ'd, and that the colour'd
+Fibres of some Silks, by varying the Position of the Eye, do vary their
+Colour. Also the Colours of Silks, Cloths, and other Substances, which
+Water or Oil can intimately penetrate, become more faint and obscure by
+being immerged in those Liquors, and recover their Vigor again by being
+dried; much after the manner declared of thin Bodies in the 10th and
+21st Observations. Leaf-Gold, some sorts of painted Glass, the Infusion
+of _Lignum Nephriticum_, and some other Substances, reflect one Colour,
+and transmit another; like thin Bodies in the 9th and 20th Observations.
+And some of those colour'd Powders which Painters use, may have their
+Colours a little changed, by being very elaborately and finely ground.
+Where I see not what can be justly pretended for those changes, besides
+the breaking of their parts into less parts by that contrition, after
+the same manner that the Colour of a thin Plate is changed by varying
+its thickness. For which reason also it is that the colour'd Flowers of
+Plants and Vegetables, by being bruised, usually become more transparent
+than before, or at least in some degree or other change their Colours.
+Nor is it much less to my purpose, that, by mixing divers Liquors, very
+odd and remarkable Productions and Changes of Colours may be effected,
+of which no cause can be more obvious and rational than that the saline
+Corpuscles of one Liquor do variously act upon or unite with the tinging
+Corpuscles of another, so as to make them swell, or shrink, (whereby not
+only their bulk but their density also may be changed,) or to divide
+them into smaller Corpuscles, (whereby a colour'd Liquor may become
+transparent,) or to make many of them associate into one cluster,
+whereby two transparent Liquors may compose a colour'd one. For we see
+how apt those saline Menstruums are to penetrate and dissolve Substances
+to which they are applied, and some of them to precipitate what others
+dissolve. In like manner, if we consider the various Phænomena of the
+Atmosphere, we may observe, that when Vapours are first raised, they
+hinder not the transparency of the Air, being divided into parts too
+small to cause any Reflexion in their Superficies. But when in order to
+compose drops of Rain they begin to coalesce and constitute Globules of
+all intermediate sizes, those Globules, when they become of convenient
+size to reflect some Colours and transmit others, may constitute Clouds
+of various Colours according to their sizes. And I see not what can be
+rationally conceived in so transparent a Substance as Water for the
+production of these Colours, besides the various sizes of its fluid and
+globular Parcels.
+
+
+PROP. VI.
+
+_The parts of Bodies on which their Colours depend, are denser than the
+Medium which pervades their Interstices._
+
+This will appear by considering, that the Colour of a Body depends not
+only on the Rays which are incident perpendicularly on its parts, but on
+those also which are incident at all other Angles. And that according to
+the 7th Observation, a very little variation of obliquity will change
+the reflected Colour, where the thin Body or small Particles is rarer
+than the ambient Medium, insomuch that such a small Particle will at
+diversly oblique Incidences reflect all sorts of Colours, in so great a
+variety that the Colour resulting from them all, confusedly reflected
+from a heap of such Particles, must rather be a white or grey than any
+other Colour, or at best it must be but a very imperfect and dirty
+Colour. Whereas if the thin Body or small Particle be much denser than
+the ambient Medium, the Colours, according to the 19th Observation, are
+so little changed by the variation of obliquity, that the Rays which
+are reflected least obliquely may predominate over the rest, so much as
+to cause a heap of such Particles to appear very intensely of their
+Colour.
+
+It conduces also something to the confirmation of this Proposition,
+that, according to the 22d Observation, the Colours exhibited by the
+denser thin Body within the rarer, are more brisk than those exhibited
+by the rarer within the denser.
+
+
+PROP. VII.
+
+_The bigness of the component parts of natural Bodies may be conjectured
+by their Colours._
+
+For since the parts of these Bodies, by _Prop._ 5. do most probably
+exhibit the same Colours with a Plate of equal thickness, provided they
+have the same refractive density; and since their parts seem for the
+most part to have much the same density with Water or Glass, as by many
+circumstances is obvious to collect; to determine the sizes of those
+parts, you need only have recourse to the precedent Tables, in which the
+thickness of Water or Glass exhibiting any Colour is expressed. Thus if
+it be desired to know the diameter of a Corpuscle, which being of equal
+density with Glass shall reflect green of the third Order; the Number
+16-1/4 shews it to be (16-1/4)/10000 parts of an Inch.
+
+The greatest difficulty is here to know of what Order the Colour of any
+Body is. And for this end we must have recourse to the 4th and 18th
+Observations; from whence may be collected these particulars.
+
+_Scarlets_, and other _reds_, _oranges_, and _yellows_, if they be pure
+and intense, are most probably of the second order. Those of the first
+and third order also may be pretty good; only the yellow of the first
+order is faint, and the orange and red of the third Order have a great
+Mixture of violet and blue.
+
+There may be good _Greens_ of the fourth Order, but the purest are of
+the third. And of this Order the green of all Vegetables seems to be,
+partly by reason of the Intenseness of their Colours, and partly because
+when they wither some of them turn to a greenish yellow, and others to a
+more perfect yellow or orange, or perhaps to red, passing first through
+all the aforesaid intermediate Colours. Which Changes seem to be
+effected by the exhaling of the Moisture which may leave the tinging
+Corpuscles more dense, and something augmented by the Accretion of the
+oily and earthy Part of that Moisture. Now the green, without doubt, is
+of the same Order with those Colours into which it changeth, because the
+Changes are gradual, and those Colours, though usually not very full,
+yet are often too full and lively to be of the fourth Order.
+
+_Blues_ and _Purples_ may be either of the second or third Order, but
+the best are of the third. Thus the Colour of Violets seems to be of
+that Order, because their Syrup by acid Liquors turns red, and by
+urinous and alcalizate turns green. For since it is of the Nature of
+Acids to dissolve or attenuate, and of Alcalies to precipitate or
+incrassate, if the Purple Colour of the Syrup was of the second Order,
+an acid Liquor by attenuating its tinging Corpuscles would change it to
+a red of the first Order, and an Alcali by incrassating them would
+change it to a green of the second Order; which red and green,
+especially the green, seem too imperfect to be the Colours produced by
+these Changes. But if the said Purple be supposed of the third Order,
+its Change to red of the second, and green of the third, may without any
+Inconvenience be allow'd.
+
+If there be found any Body of a deeper and less reddish Purple than that
+of the Violets, its Colour most probably is of the second Order. But yet
+there being no Body commonly known whose Colour is constantly more deep
+than theirs, I have made use of their Name to denote the deepest and
+least reddish Purples, such as manifestly transcend their Colour in
+purity.
+
+The _blue_ of the first Order, though very faint and little, may
+possibly be the Colour of some Substances; and particularly the azure
+Colour of the Skies seems to be of this Order. For all Vapours when they
+begin to condense and coalesce into small Parcels, become first of that
+Bigness, whereby such an Azure must be reflected before they can
+constitute Clouds of other Colours. And so this being the first Colour
+which Vapours begin to reflect, it ought to be the Colour of the finest
+and most transparent Skies, in which Vapours are not arrived to that
+Grossness requisite to reflect other Colours, as we find it is by
+Experience.
+
+_Whiteness_, if most intense and luminous, is that of the first Order,
+if less strong and luminous, a Mixture of the Colours of several Orders.
+Of this last kind is the Whiteness of Froth, Paper, Linnen, and most
+white Substances; of the former I reckon that of white Metals to be. For
+whilst the densest of Metals, Gold, if foliated, is transparent, and all
+Metals become transparent if dissolved in Menstruums or vitrified, the
+Opacity of white Metals ariseth not from their Density alone. They being
+less dense than Gold would be more transparent than it, did not some
+other Cause concur with their Density to make them opake. And this Cause
+I take to be such a Bigness of their Particles as fits them to reflect
+the white of the first order. For, if they be of other Thicknesses they
+may reflect other Colours, as is manifest by the Colours which appear
+upon hot Steel in tempering it, and sometimes upon the Surface of melted
+Metals in the Skin or Scoria which arises upon them in their cooling.
+And as the white of the first order is the strongest which can be made
+by Plates of transparent Substances, so it ought to be stronger in the
+denser Substances of Metals than in the rarer of Air, Water, and Glass.
+Nor do I see but that metallick Substances of such a Thickness as may
+fit them to reflect the white of the first order, may, by reason of
+their great Density (according to the Tenor of the first of these
+Propositions) reflect all the Light incident upon them, and so be as
+opake and splendent as it's possible for any Body to be. Gold, or Copper
+mix'd with less than half their Weight of Silver, or Tin, or Regulus of
+Antimony, in fusion, or amalgamed with a very little Mercury, become
+white; which shews both that the Particles of white Metals have much
+more Superficies, and so are smaller, than those of Gold and Copper, and
+also that they are so opake as not to suffer the Particles of Gold or
+Copper to shine through them. Now it is scarce to be doubted but that
+the Colours of Gold and Copper are of the second and third order, and
+therefore the Particles of white Metals cannot be much bigger than is
+requisite to make them reflect the white of the first order. The
+Volatility of Mercury argues that they are not much bigger, nor may they
+be much less, lest they lose their Opacity, and become either
+transparent as they do when attenuated by Vitrification, or by Solution
+in Menstruums, or black as they do when ground smaller, by rubbing
+Silver, or Tin, or Lead, upon other Substances to draw black Lines. The
+first and only Colour which white Metals take by grinding their
+Particles smaller, is black, and therefore their white ought to be that
+which borders upon the black Spot in the Center of the Rings of Colours,
+that is, the white of the first order. But, if you would hence gather
+the Bigness of metallick Particles, you must allow for their Density.
+For were Mercury transparent, its Density is such that the Sine of
+Incidence upon it (by my Computation) would be to the Sine of its
+Refraction, as 71 to 20, or 7 to 2. And therefore the Thickness of its
+Particles, that they may exhibit the same Colours with those of Bubbles
+of Water, ought to be less than the Thickness of the Skin of those
+Bubbles in the Proportion of 2 to 7. Whence it's possible, that the
+Particles of Mercury may be as little as the Particles of some
+transparent and volatile Fluids, and yet reflect the white of the first
+order.
+
+Lastly, for the production of _black_, the Corpuscles must be less than
+any of those which exhibit Colours. For at all greater sizes there is
+too much Light reflected to constitute this Colour. But if they be
+supposed a little less than is requisite to reflect the white and very
+faint blue of the first order, they will, according to the 4th, 8th,
+17th and 18th Observations, reflect so very little Light as to appear
+intensely black, and yet may perhaps variously refract it to and fro
+within themselves so long, until it happen to be stifled and lost, by
+which means they will appear black in all positions of the Eye without
+any transparency. And from hence may be understood why Fire, and the
+more subtile dissolver Putrefaction, by dividing the Particles of
+Substances, turn them to black, why small quantities of black Substances
+impart their Colour very freely and intensely to other Substances to
+which they are applied; the minute Particles of these, by reason of
+their very great number, easily overspreading the gross Particles of
+others; why Glass ground very elaborately with Sand on a Copper Plate,
+'till it be well polish'd, makes the Sand, together with what is worn
+off from the Glass and Copper, become very black: why black Substances
+do soonest of all others become hot in the Sun's Light and burn, (which
+Effect may proceed partly from the multitude of Refractions in a little
+room, and partly from the easy Commotion of so very small Corpuscles;)
+and why blacks are usually a little inclined to a bluish Colour. For
+that they are so may be seen by illuminating white Paper by Light
+reflected from black Substances. For the Paper will usually appear of a
+bluish white; and the reason is, that black borders in the obscure blue
+of the order described in the 18th Observation, and therefore reflects
+more Rays of that Colour than of any other.
+
+In these Descriptions I have been the more particular, because it is not
+impossible but that Microscopes may at length be improved to the
+discovery of the Particles of Bodies on which their Colours depend, if
+they are not already in some measure arrived to that degree of
+perfection. For if those Instruments are or can be so far improved as
+with sufficient distinctness to represent Objects five or six hundred
+times bigger than at a Foot distance they appear to our naked Eyes, I
+should hope that we might be able to discover some of the greatest of
+those Corpuscles. And by one that would magnify three or four thousand
+times perhaps they might all be discover'd, but those which produce
+blackness. In the mean while I see nothing material in this Discourse
+that may rationally be doubted of, excepting this Position: That
+transparent Corpuscles of the same thickness and density with a Plate,
+do exhibit the same Colour. And this I would have understood not without
+some Latitude, as well because those Corpuscles may be of irregular
+Figures, and many Rays must be obliquely incident on them, and so have
+a shorter way through them than the length of their Diameters, as
+because the straitness of the Medium put in on all sides within such
+Corpuscles may a little alter its Motions or other qualities on which
+the Reflexion depends. But yet I cannot much suspect the last, because I
+have observed of some small Plates of Muscovy Glass which were of an
+even thickness, that through a Microscope they have appeared of the same
+Colour at their edges and corners where the included Medium was
+terminated, which they appeared of in other places. However it will add
+much to our Satisfaction, if those Corpuscles can be discover'd with
+Microscopes; which if we shall at length attain to, I fear it will be
+the utmost improvement of this Sense. For it seems impossible to see the
+more secret and noble Works of Nature within the Corpuscles by reason of
+their transparency.
+
+
+PROP. VIII.
+
+_The Cause of Reflexion is not the impinging of Light on the solid or
+impervious parts of Bodies, as is commonly believed._
+
+This will appear by the following Considerations. First, That in the
+passage of Light out of Glass into Air there is a Reflexion as strong as
+in its passage out of Air into Glass, or rather a little stronger, and
+by many degrees stronger than in its passage out of Glass into Water.
+And it seems not probable that Air should have more strongly reflecting
+parts than Water or Glass. But if that should possibly be supposed, yet
+it will avail nothing; for the Reflexion is as strong or stronger when
+the Air is drawn away from the Glass, (suppose by the Air-Pump invented
+by _Otto Gueriet_, and improved and made useful by Mr. _Boyle_) as when
+it is adjacent to it. Secondly, If Light in its passage out of Glass
+into Air be incident more obliquely than at an Angle of 40 or 41 Degrees
+it is wholly reflected, if less obliquely it is in great measure
+transmitted. Now it is not to be imagined that Light at one degree of
+obliquity should meet with Pores enough in the Air to transmit the
+greater part of it, and at another degree of obliquity should meet with
+nothing but parts to reflect it wholly, especially considering that in
+its passage out of Air into Glass, how oblique soever be its Incidence,
+it finds Pores enough in the Glass to transmit a great part of it. If
+any Man suppose that it is not reflected by the Air, but by the outmost
+superficial parts of the Glass, there is still the same difficulty:
+Besides, that such a Supposition is unintelligible, and will also appear
+to be false by applying Water behind some part of the Glass instead of
+Air. For so in a convenient obliquity of the Rays, suppose of 45 or 46
+Degrees, at which they are all reflected where the Air is adjacent to
+the Glass, they shall be in great measure transmitted where the Water is
+adjacent to it; which argues, that their Reflexion or Transmission
+depends on the constitution of the Air and Water behind the Glass, and
+not on the striking of the Rays upon the parts of the Glass. Thirdly,
+If the Colours made by a Prism placed at the entrance of a Beam of Light
+into a darken'd Room be successively cast on a second Prism placed at a
+greater distance from the former, in such manner that they are all alike
+incident upon it, the second Prism may be so inclined to the incident
+Rays, that those which are of a blue Colour shall be all reflected by
+it, and yet those of a red Colour pretty copiously transmitted. Now if
+the Reflexion be caused by the parts of Air or Glass, I would ask, why
+at the same Obliquity of Incidence the blue should wholly impinge on
+those parts, so as to be all reflected, and yet the red find Pores
+enough to be in a great measure transmitted. Fourthly, Where two Glasses
+touch one another, there is no sensible Reflexion, as was declared in
+the first Observation; and yet I see no reason why the Rays should not
+impinge on the parts of Glass, as much when contiguous to other Glass as
+when contiguous to Air. Fifthly, When the top of a Water-Bubble (in the
+17th Observation,) by the continual subsiding and exhaling of the Water
+grew very thin, there was such a little and almost insensible quantity
+of Light reflected from it, that it appeared intensely black; whereas
+round about that black Spot, where the Water was thicker, the Reflexion
+was so strong as to make the Water seem very white. Nor is it only at
+the least thickness of thin Plates or Bubbles, that there is no manifest
+Reflexion, but at many other thicknesses continually greater and
+greater. For in the 15th Observation the Rays of the same Colour were by
+turns transmitted at one thickness, and reflected at another thickness,
+for an indeterminate number of Successions. And yet in the Superficies
+of the thinned Body, where it is of any one thickness, there are as many
+parts for the Rays to impinge on, as where it is of any other thickness.
+Sixthly, If Reflexion were caused by the parts of reflecting Bodies, it
+would be impossible for thin Plates or Bubbles, at one and the same
+place, to reflect the Rays of one Colour, and transmit those of another,
+as they do according to the 13th and 15th Observations. For it is not to
+be imagined that at one place the Rays which, for instance, exhibit a
+blue Colour, should have the fortune to dash upon the parts, and those
+which exhibit a red to hit upon the Pores of the Body; and then at
+another place, where the Body is either a little thicker or a little
+thinner, that on the contrary the blue should hit upon its pores, and
+the red upon its parts. Lastly, Were the Rays of Light reflected by
+impinging on the solid parts of Bodies, their Reflexions from polish'd
+Bodies could not be so regular as they are. For in polishing Glass with
+Sand, Putty, or Tripoly, it is not to be imagined that those Substances
+can, by grating and fretting the Glass, bring all its least Particles to
+an accurate Polish; so that all their Surfaces shall be truly plain or
+truly spherical, and look all the same way, so as together to compose
+one even Surface. The smaller the Particles of those Substances are, the
+smaller will be the Scratches by which they continually fret and wear
+away the Glass until it be polish'd; but be they never so small they can
+wear away the Glass no otherwise than by grating and scratching it, and
+breaking the Protuberances; and therefore polish it no otherwise than by
+bringing its roughness to a very fine Grain, so that the Scratches and
+Frettings of the Surface become too small to be visible. And therefore
+if Light were reflected by impinging upon the solid parts of the Glass,
+it would be scatter'd as much by the most polish'd Glass as by the
+roughest. So then it remains a Problem, how Glass polish'd by fretting
+Substances can reflect Light so regularly as it does. And this Problem
+is scarce otherwise to be solved, than by saying, that the Reflexion of
+a Ray is effected, not by a single point of the reflecting Body, but by
+some power of the Body which is evenly diffused all over its Surface,
+and by which it acts upon the Ray without immediate Contact. For that
+the parts of Bodies do act upon Light at a distance shall be shewn
+hereafter.
+
+Now if Light be reflected, not by impinging on the solid parts of
+Bodies, but by some other principle; it's probable that as many of its
+Rays as impinge on the solid parts of Bodies are not reflected but
+stifled and lost in the Bodies. For otherwise we must allow two sorts of
+Reflexions. Should all the Rays be reflected which impinge on the
+internal parts of clear Water or Crystal, those Substances would rather
+have a cloudy Colour than a clear Transparency. To make Bodies look
+black, it's necessary that many Rays be stopp'd, retained, and lost in
+them; and it seems not probable that any Rays can be stopp'd and
+stifled in them which do not impinge on their parts.
+
+And hence we may understand that Bodies are much more rare and porous
+than is commonly believed. Water is nineteen times lighter, and by
+consequence nineteen times rarer than Gold; and Gold is so rare as very
+readily and without the least opposition to transmit the magnetick
+Effluvia, and easily to admit Quicksilver into its Pores, and to let
+Water pass through it. For a concave Sphere of Gold filled with Water,
+and solder'd up, has, upon pressing the Sphere with great force, let the
+Water squeeze through it, and stand all over its outside in multitudes
+of small Drops, like Dew, without bursting or cracking the Body of the
+Gold, as I have been inform'd by an Eye witness. From all which we may
+conclude, that Gold has more Pores than solid parts, and by consequence
+that Water has above forty times more Pores than Parts. And he that
+shall find out an Hypothesis, by which Water may be so rare, and yet not
+be capable of compression by force, may doubtless by the same Hypothesis
+make Gold, and Water, and all other Bodies, as much rarer as he pleases;
+so that Light may find a ready passage through transparent Substances.
+
+The Magnet acts upon Iron through all dense Bodies not magnetick nor red
+hot, without any diminution of its Virtue; as for instance, through
+Gold, Silver, Lead, Glass, Water. The gravitating Power of the Sun is
+transmitted through the vast Bodies of the Planets without any
+diminution, so as to act upon all their parts to their very centers
+with the same Force and according to the same Laws, as if the part upon
+which it acts were not surrounded with the Body of the Planet, The Rays
+of Light, whether they be very small Bodies projected, or only Motion or
+Force propagated, are moved in right Lines; and whenever a Ray of Light
+is by any Obstacle turned out of its rectilinear way, it will never
+return into the same rectilinear way, unless perhaps by very great
+accident. And yet Light is transmitted through pellucid solid Bodies in
+right Lines to very great distances. How Bodies can have a sufficient
+quantity of Pores for producing these Effects is very difficult to
+conceive, but perhaps not altogether impossible. For the Colours of
+Bodies arise from the Magnitudes of the Particles which reflect them, as
+was explained above. Now if we conceive these Particles of Bodies to be
+so disposed amongst themselves, that the Intervals or empty Spaces
+between them may be equal in magnitude to them all; and that these
+Particles may be composed of other Particles much smaller, which have as
+much empty Space between them as equals all the Magnitudes of these
+smaller Particles: And that in like manner these smaller Particles are
+again composed of others much smaller, all which together are equal to
+all the Pores or empty Spaces between them; and so on perpetually till
+you come to solid Particles, such as have no Pores or empty Spaces
+within them: And if in any gross Body there be, for instance, three such
+degrees of Particles, the least of which are solid; this Body will have
+seven times more Pores than solid Parts. But if there be four such
+degrees of Particles, the least of which are solid, the Body will have
+fifteen times more Pores than solid Parts. If there be five degrees, the
+Body will have one and thirty times more Pores than solid Parts. If six
+degrees, the Body will have sixty and three times more Pores than solid
+Parts. And so on perpetually. And there are other ways of conceiving how
+Bodies may be exceeding porous. But what is really their inward Frame is
+not yet known to us.
+
+
+PROP. IX.
+
+_Bodies reflect and refract Light by one and the same power, variously
+exercised in various Circumstances._
+
+This appears by several Considerations. First, Because when Light goes
+out of Glass into Air, as obliquely as it can possibly do. If its
+Incidence be made still more oblique, it becomes totally reflected. For
+the power of the Glass after it has refracted the Light as obliquely as
+is possible, if the Incidence be still made more oblique, becomes too
+strong to let any of its Rays go through, and by consequence causes
+total Reflexions. Secondly, Because Light is alternately reflected and
+transmitted by thin Plates of Glass for many Successions, accordingly as
+the thickness of the Plate increases in an arithmetical Progression. For
+here the thickness of the Glass determines whether that Power by which
+Glass acts upon Light shall cause it to be reflected, or suffer it to
+be transmitted. And, Thirdly, because those Surfaces of transparent
+Bodies which have the greatest refracting power, reflect the greatest
+quantity of Light, as was shewn in the first Proposition.
+
+
+PROP. X.
+
+_If Light be swifter in Bodies than in Vacuo, in the proportion of the
+Sines which measure the Refraction of the Bodies, the Forces of the
+Bodies to reflect and refract Light, are very nearly proportional to the
+densities of the same Bodies; excepting that unctuous and sulphureous
+Bodies refract more than others of this same density._
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 8.]
+
+Let AB represent the refracting plane Surface of any Body, and IC a Ray
+incident very obliquely upon the Body in C, so that the Angle ACI may be
+infinitely little, and let CR be the refracted Ray. From a given Point B
+perpendicular to the refracting Surface erect BR meeting with the
+refracting Ray CR in R, and if CR represent the Motion of the refracted
+Ray, and this Motion be distinguish'd into two Motions CB and BR,
+whereof CB is parallel to the refracting Plane, and BR perpendicular to
+it: CB shall represent the Motion of the incident Ray, and BR the
+Motion generated by the Refraction, as Opticians have of late explain'd.
+
+Now if any Body or Thing, in moving through any Space of a given breadth
+terminated on both sides by two parallel Planes, be urged forward in all
+parts of that Space by Forces tending directly forwards towards the last
+Plane, and before its Incidence on the first Plane, had no Motion
+towards it, or but an infinitely little one; and if the Forces in all
+parts of that Space, between the Planes, be at equal distances from the
+Planes equal to one another, but at several distances be bigger or less
+in any given Proportion, the Motion generated by the Forces in the whole
+passage of the Body or thing through that Space shall be in a
+subduplicate Proportion of the Forces, as Mathematicians will easily
+understand. And therefore, if the Space of activity of the refracting
+Superficies of the Body be consider'd as such a Space, the Motion of the
+Ray generated by the refracting Force of the Body, during its passage
+through that Space, that is, the Motion BR, must be in subduplicate
+Proportion of that refracting Force. I say therefore, that the Square of
+the Line BR, and by consequence the refracting Force of the Body, is
+very nearly as the density of the same Body. For this will appear by the
+following Table, wherein the Proportion of the Sines which measure the
+Refractions of several Bodies, the Square of BR, supposing CB an unite,
+the Densities of the Bodies estimated by their Specifick Gravities, and
+their Refractive Power in respect of their Densities are set down in
+several Columns.
+
+---------------------+----------------+----------------+----------+-----------
+ | | | |
+ | | The Square | The | The
+ | | of BR, to | density | refractive
+ | The Proportion | which the | and | Power of
+ | of the Sines of| refracting | specifick| the Body
+ | Incidence and | force of the | gravity | in respect
+ The refracting | Refraction of | Body is | of the | of its
+ Bodies. | yellow Light. | proportionate. | Body. | density.
+---------------------+----------------+----------------+----------+-----------
+A Pseudo-Topazius, | | | |
+ being a natural, | | | |
+ pellucid, brittle, | 23 to 14 | 1'699 | 4'27 | 3979
+ hairy Stone, of a | | | |
+ yellow Colour. | | | |
+Air. | 3201 to 3200 | 0'000625 | 0'0012 | 5208
+Glass of Antimony. | 17 to 9 | 2'568 | 5'28 | 4864
+A Selenitis. | 61 to 41 | 1'213 | 2'252 | 5386
+Glass vulgar. | 31 to 20 | 1'4025 | 2'58 | 5436
+Crystal of the Rock. | 25 to 16 | 1'445 | 2'65 | 5450
+Island Crystal. | 5 to 3 | 1'778 | 2'72 | 6536
+Sal Gemmæ. | 17 to 11 | 1'388 | 2'143 | 6477
+Alume. | 35 to 24 | 1'1267 | 1'714 | 6570
+Borax. | 22 to 15 | 1'1511 | 1'714 | 6716
+Niter. | 32 to 21 | 1'345 | 1'9 | 7079
+Dantzick Vitriol. | 303 to 200 | 1'295 | 1'715 | 7551
+Oil of Vitriol. | 10 to 7 | 1'041 | 1'7 | 6124
+Rain Water. | 529 to 396 | 0'7845 | 1' | 7845
+Gum Arabick. | 31 to 21 | 1'179 | 1'375 | 8574
+Spirit of Wine well | | | |
+ rectified. | 100 to 73 | 0'8765 | 0'866 | 10121
+Camphire. | 3 to 2 | 1'25 | 0'996 | 12551
+Oil Olive. | 22 to 15 | 1'1511 | 0'913 | 12607
+Linseed Oil. | 40 to 27 | 1'1948 | 0'932 | 12819
+Spirit of Turpentine.| 25 to 17 | 1'1626 | 0'874 | 13222
+Amber. | 14 to 9 | 1'42 | 1'04 | 13654
+A Diamond. | 100 to 41 | 4'949 | 3'4 | 14556
+---------------------+----------------+----------------+----------+-----------
+
+The Refraction of the Air in this Table is determin'd by that of the
+Atmosphere observed by Astronomers. For, if Light pass through many
+refracting Substances or Mediums gradually denser and denser, and
+terminated with parallel Surfaces, the Sum of all the Refractions will
+be equal to the single Refraction which it would have suffer'd in
+passing immediately out of the first Medium into the last. And this
+holds true, though the Number of the refracting Substances be increased
+to Infinity, and the Distances from one another as much decreased, so
+that the Light may be refracted in every Point of its Passage, and by
+continual Refractions bent into a Curve-Line. And therefore the whole
+Refraction of Light in passing through the Atmosphere from the highest
+and rarest Part thereof down to the lowest and densest Part, must be
+equal to the Refraction which it would suffer in passing at like
+Obliquity out of a Vacuum immediately into Air of equal Density with
+that in the lowest Part of the Atmosphere.
+
+Now, although a Pseudo-Topaz, a Selenitis, Rock Crystal, Island Crystal,
+Vulgar Glass (that is, Sand melted together) and Glass of Antimony,
+which are terrestrial stony alcalizate Concretes, and Air which probably
+arises from such Substances by Fermentation, be Substances very
+differing from one another in Density, yet by this Table, they have
+their refractive Powers almost in the same Proportion to one another as
+their Densities are, excepting that the Refraction of that strange
+Substance, Island Crystal is a little bigger than the rest. And
+particularly Air, which is 3500 Times rarer than the Pseudo-Topaz, and
+4400 Times rarer than Glass of Antimony, and 2000 Times rarer than the
+Selenitis, Glass vulgar, or Crystal of the Rock, has notwithstanding its
+rarity the same refractive Power in respect of its Density which those
+very dense Substances have in respect of theirs, excepting so far as
+those differ from one another.
+
+Again, the Refraction of Camphire, Oil Olive, Linseed Oil, Spirit of
+Turpentine and Amber, which are fat sulphureous unctuous Bodies, and a
+Diamond, which probably is an unctuous Substance coagulated, have their
+refractive Powers in Proportion to one another as their Densities
+without any considerable Variation. But the refractive Powers of these
+unctuous Substances are two or three Times greater in respect of their
+Densities than the refractive Powers of the former Substances in respect
+of theirs.
+
+Water has a refractive Power in a middle degree between those two sorts
+of Substances, and probably is of a middle nature. For out of it grow
+all vegetable and animal Substances, which consist as well of
+sulphureous fat and inflamable Parts, as of earthy lean and alcalizate
+ones.
+
+Salts and Vitriols have refractive Powers in a middle degree between
+those of earthy Substances and Water, and accordingly are composed of
+those two sorts of Substances. For by distillation and rectification of
+their Spirits a great Part of them goes into Water, and a great Part
+remains behind in the form of a dry fix'd Earth capable of
+Vitrification.
+
+Spirit of Wine has a refractive Power in a middle degree between those
+of Water and oily Substances, and accordingly seems to be composed of
+both, united by Fermentation; the Water, by means of some saline Spirits
+with which 'tis impregnated, dissolving the Oil, and volatizing it by
+the Action. For Spirit of Wine is inflamable by means of its oily Parts,
+and being distilled often from Salt of Tartar, grow by every
+distillation more and more aqueous and phlegmatick. And Chymists
+observe, that Vegetables (as Lavender, Rue, Marjoram, &c.) distilled
+_per se_, before fermentation yield Oils without any burning Spirits,
+but after fermentation yield ardent Spirits without Oils: Which shews,
+that their Oil is by fermentation converted into Spirit. They find also,
+that if Oils be poured in a small quantity upon fermentating Vegetables,
+they distil over after fermentation in the form of Spirits.
+
+So then, by the foregoing Table, all Bodies seem to have their
+refractive Powers proportional to their Densities, (or very nearly;)
+excepting so far as they partake more or less of sulphureous oily
+Particles, and thereby have their refractive Power made greater or less.
+Whence it seems rational to attribute the refractive Power of all Bodies
+chiefly, if not wholly, to the sulphureous Parts with which they abound.
+For it's probable that all Bodies abound more or less with Sulphurs. And
+as Light congregated by a Burning-glass acts most upon sulphureous
+Bodies, to turn them into Fire and Flame; so, since all Action is
+mutual, Sulphurs ought to act most upon Light. For that the action
+between Light and Bodies is mutual, may appear from this Consideration;
+That the densest Bodies which refract and reflect Light most strongly,
+grow hottest in the Summer Sun, by the action of the refracted or
+reflected Light.
+
+I have hitherto explain'd the power of Bodies to reflect and refract,
+and shew'd, that thin transparent Plates, Fibres, and Particles, do,
+according to their several thicknesses and densities, reflect several
+sorts of Rays, and thereby appear of several Colours; and by consequence
+that nothing more is requisite for producing all the Colours of natural
+Bodies, than the several sizes and densities of their transparent
+Particles. But whence it is that these Plates, Fibres, and Particles,
+do, according to their several thicknesses and densities, reflect
+several sorts of Rays, I have not yet explain'd. To give some insight
+into this matter, and make way for understanding the next part of this
+Book, I shall conclude this part with a few more Propositions. Those
+which preceded respect the nature of Bodies, these the nature of Light:
+For both must be understood, before the reason of their Actions upon one
+another can be known. And because the last Proposition depended upon the
+velocity of Light, I will begin with a Proposition of that kind.
+
+
+PROP. XI.
+
+_Light is propagated from luminous Bodies in time, and spends about
+seven or eight Minutes of an Hour in passing from the Sun to the Earth._
+
+This was observed first by _Roemer_, and then by others, by means of the
+Eclipses of the Satellites of _Jupiter_. For these Eclipses, when the
+Earth is between the Sun and _Jupiter_, happen about seven or eight
+Minutes sooner than they ought to do by the Tables, and when the Earth
+is beyond the Sun they happen about seven or eight Minutes later than
+they ought to do; the reason being, that the Light of the Satellites has
+farther to go in the latter case than in the former by the Diameter of
+the Earth's Orbit. Some inequalities of time may arise from the
+Excentricities of the Orbs of the Satellites; but those cannot answer in
+all the Satellites, and at all times to the Position and Distance of the
+Earth from the Sun. The mean motions of _Jupiter_'s Satellites is also
+swifter in his descent from his Aphelium to his Perihelium, than in his
+ascent in the other half of his Orb. But this inequality has no respect
+to the position of the Earth, and in the three interior Satellites is
+insensible, as I find by computation from the Theory of their Gravity.
+
+
+PROP. XII.
+
+_Every Ray of Light in its passage through any refracting Surface is put
+into a certain transient Constitution or State, which in the progress of
+the Ray returns at equal Intervals, and disposes the Ray at every return
+to be easily transmitted through the next refracting Surface, and
+between the returns to be easily reflected by it._
+
+This is manifest by the 5th, 9th, 12th, and 15th Observations. For by
+those Observations it appears, that one and the same sort of Rays at
+equal Angles of Incidence on any thin transparent Plate, is alternately
+reflected and transmitted for many Successions accordingly as the
+thickness of the Plate increases in arithmetical Progression of the
+Numbers, 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, &c. so that if the first Reflexion
+(that which makes the first or innermost of the Rings of Colours there
+described) be made at the thickness 1, the Rays shall be transmitted at
+the thicknesses 0, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, &c. and thereby make the central
+Spot and Rings of Light, which appear by transmission, and be reflected
+at the thickness 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, &c. and thereby make the Rings which
+appear by Reflexion. And this alternate Reflexion and Transmission, as I
+gather by the 24th Observation, continues for above an hundred
+vicissitudes, and by the Observations in the next part of this Book, for
+many thousands, being propagated from one Surface of a Glass Plate to
+the other, though the thickness of the Plate be a quarter of an Inch or
+above: So that this alternation seems to be propagated from every
+refracting Surface to all distances without end or limitation.
+
+This alternate Reflexion and Refraction depends on both the Surfaces of
+every thin Plate, because it depends on their distance. By the 21st
+Observation, if either Surface of a thin Plate of _Muscovy_ Glass be
+wetted, the Colours caused by the alternate Reflexion and Refraction
+grow faint, and therefore it depends on them both.
+
+It is therefore perform'd at the second Surface; for if it were
+perform'd at the first, before the Rays arrive at the second, it would
+not depend on the second.
+
+It is also influenced by some action or disposition, propagated from the
+first to the second, because otherwise at the second it would not depend
+on the first. And this action or disposition, in its propagation,
+intermits and returns by equal Intervals, because in all its progress it
+inclines the Ray at one distance from the first Surface to be reflected
+by the second, at another to be transmitted by it, and that by equal
+Intervals for innumerable vicissitudes. And because the Ray is disposed
+to Reflexion at the distances 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, &c. and to Transmission at
+the distances 0, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, &c. (for its transmission through the
+first Surface, is at the distance 0, and it is transmitted through both
+together, if their distance be infinitely little or much less than 1)
+the disposition to be transmitted at the distances 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, &c.
+is to be accounted a return of the same disposition which the Ray first
+had at the distance 0, that is at its transmission through the first
+refracting Surface. All which is the thing I would prove.
+
+What kind of action or disposition this is; Whether it consists in a
+circulating or a vibrating motion of the Ray, or of the Medium, or
+something else, I do not here enquire. Those that are averse from
+assenting to any new Discoveries, but such as they can explain by an
+Hypothesis, may for the present suppose, that as Stones by falling upon
+Water put the Water into an undulating Motion, and all Bodies by
+percussion excite vibrations in the Air; so the Rays of Light, by
+impinging on any refracting or reflecting Surface, excite vibrations in
+the refracting or reflecting Medium or Substance, and by exciting them
+agitate the solid parts of the refracting or reflecting Body, and by
+agitating them cause the Body to grow warm or hot; that the vibrations
+thus excited are propagated in the refracting or reflecting Medium or
+Substance, much after the manner that vibrations are propagated in the
+Air for causing Sound, and move faster than the Rays so as to overtake
+them; and that when any Ray is in that part of the vibration which
+conspires with its Motion, it easily breaks through a refracting
+Surface, but when it is in the contrary part of the vibration which
+impedes its Motion, it is easily reflected; and, by consequence, that
+every Ray is successively disposed to be easily reflected, or easily
+transmitted, by every vibration which overtakes it. But whether this
+Hypothesis be true or false I do not here consider. I content my self
+with the bare Discovery, that the Rays of Light are by some cause or
+other alternately disposed to be reflected or refracted for many
+vicissitudes.
+
+
+DEFINITION.
+
+_The returns of the disposition of any Ray to be reflected I will call
+its_ Fits of easy Reflexion, _and those of its disposition to be
+transmitted its_ Fits of easy Transmission, _and the space it passes
+between every return and the next return, the_ Interval of its Fits.
+
+
+PROP. XIII.
+
+_The reason why the Surfaces of all thick transparent Bodies reflect
+part of the Light incident on them, and refract the rest, is, that some
+Rays at their Incidence are in Fits of easy Reflexion, and others in
+Fits of easy Transmission._
+
+This may be gather'd from the 24th Observation, where the Light
+reflected by thin Plates of Air and Glass, which to the naked Eye
+appear'd evenly white all over the Plate, did through a Prism appear
+waved with many Successions of Light and Darkness made by alternate Fits
+of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission, the Prism severing and
+distinguishing the Waves of which the white reflected Light was
+composed, as was explain'd above.
+
+And hence Light is in Fits of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission,
+before its Incidence on transparent Bodies. And probably it is put into
+such fits at its first emission from luminous Bodies, and continues in
+them during all its progress. For these Fits are of a lasting nature, as
+will appear by the next part of this Book.
+
+In this Proposition I suppose the transparent Bodies to be thick;
+because if the thickness of the Body be much less than the Interval of
+the Fits of easy Reflexion and Transmission of the Rays, the Body loseth
+its reflecting power. For if the Rays, which at their entering into the
+Body are put into Fits of easy Transmission, arrive at the farthest
+Surface of the Body before they be out of those Fits, they must be
+transmitted. And this is the reason why Bubbles of Water lose their
+reflecting power when they grow very thin; and why all opake Bodies,
+when reduced into very small parts, become transparent.
+
+
+PROP. XIV.
+
+_Those Surfaces of transparent Bodies, which if the Ray be in a Fit of
+Refraction do refract it most strongly, if the Ray be in a Fit of
+Reflexion do reflect it most easily._
+
+For we shewed above, in _Prop._ 8. that the cause of Reflexion is not
+the impinging of Light on the solid impervious parts of Bodies, but some
+other power by which those solid parts act on Light at a distance. We
+shewed also in _Prop._ 9. that Bodies reflect and refract Light by one
+and the same power, variously exercised in various circumstances; and in
+_Prop._ 1. that the most strongly refracting Surfaces reflect the most
+Light: All which compared together evince and rarify both this and the
+last Proposition.
+
+
+PROP. XV.
+
+_In any one and the same sort of Rays, emerging in any Angle out of any
+refracting Surface into one and the same Medium, the Interval of the
+following Fits of easy Reflexion and Transmission are either accurately
+or very nearly, as the Rectangle of the Secant of the Angle of
+Refraction, and of the Secant of another Angle, whose Sine is the first
+of 106 arithmetical mean Proportionals, between the Sines of Incidence
+and Refraction, counted from the Sine of Refraction._
+
+This is manifest by the 7th and 19th Observations.
+
+
+PROP. XVI.
+
+_In several sorts of Rays emerging in equal Angles out of any refracting
+Surface into the same Medium, the Intervals of the following Fits of
+easy Reflexion and easy Transmission are either accurately, or very
+nearly, as the Cube-Roots of the Squares of the lengths of a Chord,
+which found the Notes in an Eight_, sol, la, fa, sol, la, mi, fa, sol,
+_with all their intermediate degrees answering to the Colours of those
+Rays, according to the Analogy described in the seventh Experiment of
+the second Part of the first Book._
+
+This is manifest by the 13th and 14th Observations.
+
+
+PROP. XVII.
+
+_If Rays of any sort pass perpendicularly into several Mediums, the
+Intervals of the Fits of easy Reflexion and Transmission in any one
+Medium, are to those Intervals in any other, as the Sine of Incidence to
+the Sine of Refraction, when the Rays pass out of the first of those two
+Mediums into the second._
+
+This is manifest by the 10th Observation.
+
+
+PROP. XVIII.
+
+_If the Rays which paint the Colour in the Confine of yellow and orange
+pass perpendicularly out of any Medium into Air, the Intervals of their
+Fits of easy Reflexion are the 1/89000th part of an Inch. And of the
+same length are the Intervals of their Fits of easy Transmission._
+
+This is manifest by the 6th Observation. From these Propositions it is
+easy to collect the Intervals of the Fits of easy Reflexion and easy
+Transmission of any sort of Rays refracted in any angle into any Medium;
+and thence to know, whether the Rays shall be reflected or transmitted
+at their subsequent Incidence upon any other pellucid Medium. Which
+thing, being useful for understanding the next part of this Book, was
+here to be set down. And for the same reason I add the two following
+Propositions.
+
+
+PROP. XIX.
+
+_If any sort of Rays falling on the polite Surface of any pellucid
+Medium be reflected back, the Fits of easy Reflexion, which they have at
+the point of Reflexion, shall still continue to return; and the Returns
+shall be at distances from the point of Reflexion in the arithmetical
+progression of the Numbers 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, &c. and between these
+Fits the Rays shall be in Fits of easy Transmission._
+
+For since the Fits of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission are of a
+returning nature, there is no reason why these Fits, which continued
+till the Ray arrived at the reflecting Medium, and there inclined the
+Ray to Reflexion, should there cease. And if the Ray at the point of
+Reflexion was in a Fit of easy Reflexion, the progression of the
+distances of these Fits from that point must begin from 0, and so be of
+the Numbers 0, 2, 4, 6, 8, &c. And therefore the progression of the
+distances of the intermediate Fits of easy Transmission, reckon'd from
+the same point, must be in the progression of the odd Numbers 1, 3, 5,
+7, 9, &c. contrary to what happens when the Fits are propagated from
+points of Refraction.
+
+
+PROP. XX.
+
+_The Intervals of the Fits of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission,
+propagated from points of Reflexion into any Medium, are equal to the
+Intervals of the like Fits, which the same Rays would have, if refracted
+into the same Medium in Angles of Refraction equal to their Angles of
+Reflexion._
+
+For when Light is reflected by the second Surface of thin Plates, it
+goes out afterwards freely at the first Surface to make the Rings of
+Colours which appear by Reflexion; and, by the freedom of its egress,
+makes the Colours of these Rings more vivid and strong than those which
+appear on the other side of the Plates by the transmitted Light. The
+reflected Rays are therefore in Fits of easy Transmission at their
+egress; which would not always happen, if the Intervals of the Fits
+within the Plate after Reflexion were not equal, both in length and
+number, to their Intervals before it. And this confirms also the
+proportions set down in the former Proposition. For if the Rays both in
+going in and out at the first Surface be in Fits of easy Transmission,
+and the Intervals and Numbers of those Fits between the first and second
+Surface, before and after Reflexion, be equal, the distances of the Fits
+of easy Transmission from either Surface, must be in the same
+progression after Reflexion as before; that is, from the first Surface
+which transmitted them in the progression of the even Numbers 0, 2, 4,
+6, 8, &c. and from the second which reflected them, in that of the odd
+Numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, &c. But these two Propositions will become much more
+evident by the Observations in the following part of this Book.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+SECOND BOOK
+
+OF
+
+OPTICKS
+
+
+_PART IV._
+
+_Observations concerning the Reflexions and Colours of thick transparent
+polish'd Plates._
+
+There is no Glass or Speculum how well soever polished, but, besides the
+Light which it refracts or reflects regularly, scatters every way
+irregularly a faint Light, by means of which the polish'd Surface, when
+illuminated in a dark room by a beam of the Sun's Light, may be easily
+seen in all positions of the Eye. There are certain Phænomena of this
+scatter'd Light, which when I first observed them, seem'd very strange
+and surprizing to me. My Observations were as follows.
+
+_Obs._ 1. The Sun shining into my darken'd Chamber through a hole one
+third of an Inch wide, I let the intromitted beam of Light fall
+perpendicularly upon a Glass Speculum ground concave on one side and
+convex on the other, to a Sphere of five Feet and eleven Inches Radius,
+and Quick-silver'd over on the convex side. And holding a white opake
+Chart, or a Quire of Paper at the center of the Spheres to which the
+Speculum was ground, that is, at the distance of about five Feet and
+eleven Inches from the Speculum, in such manner, that the beam of Light
+might pass through a little hole made in the middle of the Chart to the
+Speculum, and thence be reflected back to the same hole: I observed upon
+the Chart four or five concentric Irises or Rings of Colours, like
+Rain-bows, encompassing the hole much after the manner that those, which
+in the fourth and following Observations of the first part of this Book
+appear'd between the Object-glasses, encompassed the black Spot, but yet
+larger and fainter than those. These Rings as they grew larger and
+larger became diluter and fainter, so that the fifth was scarce visible.
+Yet sometimes, when the Sun shone very clear, there appear'd faint
+Lineaments of a sixth and seventh. If the distance of the Chart from the
+Speculum was much greater or much less than that of six Feet, the Rings
+became dilute and vanish'd. And if the distance of the Speculum from the
+Window was much greater than that of six Feet, the reflected beam of
+Light would be so broad at the distance of six Feet from the Speculum
+where the Rings appear'd, as to obscure one or two of the innermost
+Rings. And therefore I usually placed the Speculum at about six Feet
+from the Window; so that its Focus might there fall in with the center
+of its concavity at the Rings upon the Chart. And this Posture is always
+to be understood in the following Observations where no other is
+express'd.
+
+_Obs._ 2. The Colours of these Rain-bows succeeded one another from the
+center outwards, in the same form and order with those which were made
+in the ninth Observation of the first Part of this Book by Light not
+reflected, but transmitted through the two Object-glasses. For, first,
+there was in their common center a white round Spot of faint Light,
+something broader than the reflected beam of Light, which beam sometimes
+fell upon the middle of the Spot, and sometimes by a little inclination
+of the Speculum receded from the middle, and left the Spot white to the
+center.
+
+This white Spot was immediately encompassed with a dark grey or russet,
+and that dark grey with the Colours of the first Iris; which Colours on
+the inside next the dark grey were a little violet and indigo, and next
+to that a blue, which on the outside grew pale, and then succeeded a
+little greenish yellow, and after that a brighter yellow, and then on
+the outward edge of the Iris a red which on the outside inclined to
+purple.
+
+This Iris was immediately encompassed with a second, whose Colours were
+in order from the inside outwards, purple, blue, green, yellow, light
+red, a red mix'd with purple.
+
+Then immediately follow'd the Colours of the third Iris, which were in
+order outwards a green inclining to purple, a good green, and a red more
+bright than that of the former Iris.
+
+The fourth and fifth Iris seem'd of a bluish green within, and red
+without, but so faintly that it was difficult to discern the Colours.
+
+_Obs._ 3. Measuring the Diameters of these Rings upon the Chart as
+accurately as I could, I found them also in the same proportion to one
+another with the Rings made by Light transmitted through the two
+Object-glasses. For the Diameters of the four first of the bright Rings
+measured between the brightest parts of their Orbits, at the distance of
+six Feet from the Speculum were 1-11/16, 2-3/8, 2-11/12, 3-3/8 Inches,
+whose Squares are in arithmetical progression of the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4.
+If the white circular Spot in the middle be reckon'd amongst the Rings,
+and its central Light, where it seems to be most luminous, be put
+equipollent to an infinitely little Ring; the Squares of the Diameters
+of the Rings will be in the progression 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. I measured
+also the Diameters of the dark Circles between these luminous ones, and
+found their Squares in the progression of the numbers 1/2, 1-1/2, 2-1/2,
+3-1/2, &c. the Diameters of the first four at the distance of six Feet
+from the Speculum, being 1-3/16, 2-1/16, 2-2/3, 3-3/20 Inches. If the
+distance of the Chart from the Speculum was increased or diminished, the
+Diameters of the Circles were increased or diminished proportionally.
+
+_Obs._ 4. By the analogy between these Rings and those described in the
+Observations of the first Part of this Book, I suspected that there
+were many more of them which spread into one another, and by interfering
+mix'd their Colours, and diluted one another so that they could not be
+seen apart. I viewed them therefore through a Prism, as I did those in
+the 24th Observation of the first Part of this Book. And when the Prism
+was so placed as by refracting the Light of their mix'd Colours to
+separate them, and distinguish the Rings from one another, as it did
+those in that Observation, I could then see them distincter than before,
+and easily number eight or nine of them, and sometimes twelve or
+thirteen. And had not their Light been so very faint, I question not but
+that I might have seen many more.
+
+_Obs._ 5. Placing a Prism at the Window to refract the intromitted beam
+of Light, and cast the oblong Spectrum of Colours on the Speculum: I
+covered the Speculum with a black Paper which had in the middle of it a
+hole to let any one of the Colours pass through to the Speculum, whilst
+the rest were intercepted by the Paper. And now I found Rings of that
+Colour only which fell upon the Speculum. If the Speculum was
+illuminated with red, the Rings were totally red with dark Intervals, if
+with blue they were totally blue, and so of the other Colours. And when
+they were illuminated with any one Colour, the Squares of their
+Diameters measured between their most luminous Parts, were in the
+arithmetical Progression of the Numbers, 0, 1, 2, 3, 4 and the Squares
+of the Diameters of their dark Intervals in the Progression of the
+intermediate Numbers 1/2, 1-1/2, 2-1/2, 3-1/2. But if the Colour was
+varied, they varied their Magnitude. In the red they were largest, in
+the indigo and violet least, and in the intermediate Colours yellow,
+green, and blue, they were of several intermediate Bignesses answering
+to the Colour, that is, greater in yellow than in green, and greater in
+green than in blue. And hence I knew, that when the Speculum was
+illuminated with white Light, the red and yellow on the outside of the
+Rings were produced by the least refrangible Rays, and the blue and
+violet by the most refrangible, and that the Colours of each Ring spread
+into the Colours of the neighbouring Rings on either side, after the
+manner explain'd in the first and second Part of this Book, and by
+mixing diluted one another so that they could not be distinguish'd,
+unless near the Center where they were least mix'd. For in this
+Observation I could see the Rings more distinctly, and to a greater
+Number than before, being able in the yellow Light to number eight or
+nine of them, besides a faint shadow of a tenth. To satisfy my self how
+much the Colours of the several Rings spread into one another, I
+measured the Diameters of the second and third Rings, and found them
+when made by the Confine of the red and orange to be to the same
+Diameters when made by the Confine of blue and indigo, as 9 to 8, or
+thereabouts. For it was hard to determine this Proportion accurately.
+Also the Circles made successively by the red, yellow, and green,
+differ'd more from one another than those made successively by the
+green, blue, and indigo. For the Circle made by the violet was too dark
+to be seen. To carry on the Computation, let us therefore suppose that
+the Differences of the Diameters of the Circles made by the outmost red,
+the Confine of red and orange, the Confine of orange and yellow, the
+Confine of yellow and green, the Confine of green and blue, the Confine
+of blue and indigo, the Confine of indigo and violet, and outmost
+violet, are in proportion as the Differences of the Lengths of a
+Monochord which sound the Tones in an Eight; _sol_, _la_, _fa_, _sol_,
+_la_, _mi_, _fa_, _sol_, that is, as the Numbers 1/9, 1/18, 1/12, 1/12,
+2/27, 1/27, 1/18. And if the Diameter of the Circle made by the Confine
+of red and orange be 9A, and that of the Circle made by the Confine of
+blue and indigo be 8A as above; their difference 9A-8A will be to the
+difference of the Diameters of the Circles made by the outmost red, and
+by the Confine of red and orange, as 1/18 + 1/12 + 1/12 + 2/27 to 1/9,
+that is as 8/27 to 1/9, or 8 to 3, and to the difference of the Circles
+made by the outmost violet, and by the Confine of blue and indigo, as
+1/18 + 1/12 + 1/12 + 2/27 to 1/27 + 1/18, that is, as 8/27 to 5/54, or
+as 16 to 5. And therefore these differences will be 3/8A and 5/16A. Add
+the first to 9A and subduct the last from 8A, and you will have the
+Diameters of the Circles made by the least and most refrangible Rays
+75/8A and ((61-1/2)/8)A. These diameters are therefore to one another as
+75 to 61-1/2 or 50 to 41, and their Squares as 2500 to 1681, that is, as
+3 to 2 very nearly. Which proportion differs not much from the
+proportion of the Diameters of the Circles made by the outmost red and
+outmost violet, in the 13th Observation of the first part of this Book.
+
+_Obs._ 6. Placing my Eye where these Rings appear'd plainest, I saw the
+Speculum tinged all over with Waves of Colours, (red, yellow, green,
+blue;) like those which in the Observations of the first part of this
+Book appeared between the Object-glasses, and upon Bubbles of Water, but
+much larger. And after the manner of those, they were of various
+magnitudes in various Positions of the Eye, swelling and shrinking as I
+moved my Eye this way and that way. They were formed like Arcs of
+concentrick Circles, as those were; and when my Eye was over against the
+center of the concavity of the Speculum, (that is, 5 Feet and 10 Inches
+distant from the Speculum,) their common center was in a right Line with
+that center of concavity, and with the hole in the Window. But in other
+postures of my Eye their center had other positions. They appear'd by
+the Light of the Clouds propagated to the Speculum through the hole in
+the Window; and when the Sun shone through that hole upon the Speculum,
+his Light upon it was of the Colour of the Ring whereon it fell, but by
+its splendor obscured the Rings made by the Light of the Clouds, unless
+when the Speculum was removed to a great distance from the Window, so
+that his Light upon it might be broad and faint. By varying the position
+of my Eye, and moving it nearer to or farther from the direct beam of
+the Sun's Light, the Colour of the Sun's reflected Light constantly
+varied upon the Speculum, as it did upon my Eye, the same Colour always
+appearing to a Bystander upon my Eye which to me appear'd upon the
+Speculum. And thence I knew that the Rings of Colours upon the Chart
+were made by these reflected Colours, propagated thither from the
+Speculum in several Angles, and that their production depended not upon
+the termination of Light and Shadow.
+
+_Obs._ 7. By the Analogy of all these Phænomena with those of the like
+Rings of Colours described in the first part of this Book, it seemed to
+me that these Colours were produced by this thick Plate of Glass, much
+after the manner that those were produced by very thin Plates. For, upon
+trial, I found that if the Quick-silver were rubb'd off from the
+backside of the Speculum, the Glass alone would cause the same Rings of
+Colours, but much more faint than before; and therefore the Phænomenon
+depends not upon the Quick-silver, unless so far as the Quick-silver by
+increasing the Reflexion of the backside of the Glass increases the
+Light of the Rings of Colours. I found also that a Speculum of Metal
+without Glass made some Years since for optical uses, and very well
+wrought, produced none of those Rings; and thence I understood that
+these Rings arise not from one specular Surface alone, but depend upon
+the two Surfaces of the Plate of Glass whereof the Speculum was made,
+and upon the thickness of the Glass between them. For as in the 7th and
+19th Observations of the first part of this Book a thin Plate of Air,
+Water, or Glass of an even thickness appeared of one Colour when the
+Rays were perpendicular to it, of another when they were a little
+oblique, of another when more oblique, of another when still more
+oblique, and so on; so here, in the sixth Observation, the Light which
+emerged out of the Glass in several Obliquities, made the Glass appear
+of several Colours, and being propagated in those Obliquities to the
+Chart, there painted Rings of those Colours. And as the reason why a
+thin Plate appeared of several Colours in several Obliquities of the
+Rays, was, that the Rays of one and the same sort are reflected by the
+thin Plate at one obliquity and transmitted at another, and those of
+other sorts transmitted where these are reflected, and reflected where
+these are transmitted: So the reason why the thick Plate of Glass
+whereof the Speculum was made did appear of various Colours in various
+Obliquities, and in those Obliquities propagated those Colours to the
+Chart, was, that the Rays of one and the same sort did at one Obliquity
+emerge out of the Glass, at another did not emerge, but were reflected
+back towards the Quick-silver by the hither Surface of the Glass, and
+accordingly as the Obliquity became greater and greater, emerged and
+were reflected alternately for many Successions; and that in one and the
+same Obliquity the Rays of one sort were reflected, and those of another
+transmitted. This is manifest by the fifth Observation of this part of
+this Book. For in that Observation, when the Speculum was illuminated by
+any one of the prismatick Colours, that Light made many Rings of the
+same Colour upon the Chart with dark Intervals, and therefore at its
+emergence out of the Speculum was alternately transmitted and not
+transmitted from the Speculum to the Chart for many Successions,
+according to the various Obliquities of its Emergence. And when the
+Colour cast on the Speculum by the Prism was varied, the Rings became of
+the Colour cast on it, and varied their bigness with their Colour, and
+therefore the Light was now alternately transmitted and not transmitted
+from the Speculum to the Chart at other Obliquities than before. It
+seemed to me therefore that these Rings were of one and the same
+original with those of thin Plates, but yet with this difference, that
+those of thin Plates are made by the alternate Reflexions and
+Transmissions of the Rays at the second Surface of the Plate, after one
+passage through it; but here the Rays go twice through the Plate before
+they are alternately reflected and transmitted. First, they go through
+it from the first Surface to the Quick-silver, and then return through
+it from the Quick-silver to the first Surface, and there are either
+transmitted to the Chart or reflected back to the Quick-silver,
+accordingly as they are in their Fits of easy Reflexion or Transmission
+when they arrive at that Surface. For the Intervals of the Fits of the
+Rays which fall perpendicularly on the Speculum, and are reflected back
+in the same perpendicular Lines, by reason of the equality of these
+Angles and Lines, are of the same length and number within the Glass
+after Reflexion as before, by the 19th Proposition of the third part of
+this Book. And therefore since all the Rays that enter through the
+first Surface are in their Fits of easy Transmission at their entrance,
+and as many of these as are reflected by the second are in their Fits of
+easy Reflexion there, all these must be again in their Fits of easy
+Transmission at their return to the first, and by consequence there go
+out of the Glass to the Chart, and form upon it the white Spot of Light
+in the center of the Rings. For the reason holds good in all sorts of
+Rays, and therefore all sorts must go out promiscuously to that Spot,
+and by their mixture cause it to be white. But the Intervals of the Fits
+of those Rays which are reflected more obliquely than they enter, must
+be greater after Reflexion than before, by the 15th and 20th
+Propositions. And thence it may happen that the Rays at their return to
+the first Surface, may in certain Obliquities be in Fits of easy
+Reflexion, and return back to the Quick-silver, and in other
+intermediate Obliquities be again in Fits of easy Transmission, and so
+go out to the Chart, and paint on it the Rings of Colours about the
+white Spot. And because the Intervals of the Fits at equal obliquities
+are greater and fewer in the less refrangible Rays, and less and more
+numerous in the more refrangible, therefore the less refrangible at
+equal obliquities shall make fewer Rings than the more refrangible, and
+the Rings made by those shall be larger than the like number of Rings
+made by these; that is, the red Rings shall be larger than the yellow,
+the yellow than the green, the green than the blue, and the blue than
+the violet, as they were really found to be in the fifth Observation.
+And therefore the first Ring of all Colours encompassing the white Spot
+of Light shall be red without any violet within, and yellow, and green,
+and blue in the middle, as it was found in the second Observation; and
+these Colours in the second Ring, and those that follow, shall be more
+expanded, till they spread into one another, and blend one another by
+interfering.
+
+These seem to be the reasons of these Rings in general; and this put me
+upon observing the thickness of the Glass, and considering whether the
+dimensions and proportions of the Rings may be truly derived from it by
+computation.
+
+_Obs._ 8. I measured therefore the thickness of this concavo-convex
+Plate of Glass, and found it every where 1/4 of an Inch precisely. Now,
+by the sixth Observation of the first Part of this Book, a thin Plate of
+Air transmits the brightest Light of the first Ring, that is, the bright
+yellow, when its thickness is the 1/89000th part of an Inch; and by the
+tenth Observation of the same Part, a thin Plate of Glass transmits the
+same Light of the same Ring, when its thickness is less in proportion of
+the Sine of Refraction to the Sine of Incidence, that is, when its
+thickness is the 11/1513000th or 1/137545th part of an Inch, supposing
+the Sines are as 11 to 17. And if this thickness be doubled, it
+transmits the same bright Light of the second Ring; if tripled, it
+transmits that of the third, and so on; the bright yellow Light in all
+these cases being in its Fits of Transmission. And therefore if its
+thickness be multiplied 34386 times, so as to become 1/4 of an Inch, it
+transmits the same bright Light of the 34386th Ring. Suppose this be the
+bright yellow Light transmitted perpendicularly from the reflecting
+convex side of the Glass through the concave side to the white Spot in
+the center of the Rings of Colours on the Chart: And by a Rule in the
+7th and 19th Observations in the first Part of this Book, and by the
+15th and 20th Propositions of the third Part of this Book, if the Rays
+be made oblique to the Glass, the thickness of the Glass requisite to
+transmit the same bright Light of the same Ring in any obliquity, is to
+this thickness of 1/4 of an Inch, as the Secant of a certain Angle to
+the Radius, the Sine of which Angle is the first of an hundred and six
+arithmetical Means between the Sines of Incidence and Refraction,
+counted from the Sine of Incidence when the Refraction is made out of
+any plated Body into any Medium encompassing it; that is, in this case,
+out of Glass into Air. Now if the thickness of the Glass be increased by
+degrees, so as to bear to its first thickness, (_viz._ that of a quarter
+of an Inch,) the Proportions which 34386 (the number of Fits of the
+perpendicular Rays in going through the Glass towards the white Spot in
+the center of the Rings,) hath to 34385, 34384, 34383, and 34382, (the
+numbers of the Fits of the oblique Rays in going through the Glass
+towards the first, second, third, and fourth Rings of Colours,) and if
+the first thickness be divided into 100000000 equal parts, the increased
+thicknesses will be 100002908, 100005816, 100008725, and 100011633, and
+the Angles of which these thicknesses are Secants will be 26´ 13´´, 37´
+5´´, 45´ 6´´, and 52´ 26´´, the Radius being 100000000; and the Sines of
+these Angles are 762, 1079, 1321, and 1525, and the proportional Sines
+of Refraction 1172, 1659, 2031, and 2345, the Radius being 100000. For
+since the Sines of Incidence out of Glass into Air are to the Sines of
+Refraction as 11 to 17, and to the above-mentioned Secants as 11 to the
+first of 106 arithmetical Means between 11 and 17, that is, as 11 to
+11-6/106, those Secants will be to the Sines of Refraction as 11-6/106,
+to 17, and by this Analogy will give these Sines. So then, if the
+obliquities of the Rays to the concave Surface of the Glass be such that
+the Sines of their Refraction in passing out of the Glass through that
+Surface into the Air be 1172, 1659, 2031, 2345, the bright Light of the
+34386th Ring shall emerge at the thicknesses of the Glass, which are to
+1/4 of an Inch as 34386 to 34385, 34384, 34383, 34382, respectively. And
+therefore, if the thickness in all these Cases be 1/4 of an Inch (as it
+is in the Glass of which the Speculum was made) the bright Light of the
+34385th Ring shall emerge where the Sine of Refraction is 1172, and that
+of the 34384th, 34383th, and 34382th Ring where the Sine is 1659, 2031,
+and 2345 respectively. And in these Angles of Refraction the Light of
+these Rings shall be propagated from the Speculum to the Chart, and
+there paint Rings about the white central round Spot of Light which we
+said was the Light of the 34386th Ring. And the Semidiameters of these
+Rings shall subtend the Angles of Refraction made at the
+Concave-Surface of the Speculum, and by consequence their Diameters
+shall be to the distance of the Chart from the Speculum as those Sines
+of Refraction doubled are to the Radius, that is, as 1172, 1659, 2031,
+and 2345, doubled are to 100000. And therefore, if the distance of the
+Chart from the Concave-Surface of the Speculum be six Feet (as it was in
+the third of these Observations) the Diameters of the Rings of this
+bright yellow Light upon the Chart shall be 1'688, 2'389, 2'925, 3'375
+Inches: For these Diameters are to six Feet, as the above-mention'd
+Sines doubled are to the Radius. Now, these Diameters of the bright
+yellow Rings, thus found by Computation are the very same with those
+found in the third of these Observations by measuring them, _viz._ with
+1-11/16, 2-3/8, 2-11/12, and 3-3/8 Inches, and therefore the Theory of
+deriving these Rings from the thickness of the Plate of Glass of which
+the Speculum was made, and from the Obliquity of the emerging Rays
+agrees with the Observation. In this Computation I have equalled the
+Diameters of the bright Rings made by Light of all Colours, to the
+Diameters of the Rings made by the bright yellow. For this yellow makes
+the brightest Part of the Rings of all Colours. If you desire the
+Diameters of the Rings made by the Light of any other unmix'd Colour,
+you may find them readily by putting them to the Diameters of the bright
+yellow ones in a subduplicate Proportion of the Intervals of the Fits of
+the Rays of those Colours when equally inclined to the refracting or
+reflecting Surface which caused those Fits, that is, by putting the
+Diameters of the Rings made by the Rays in the Extremities and Limits of
+the seven Colours, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet,
+proportional to the Cube-roots of the Numbers, 1, 8/9, 5/6, 3/4, 2/3,
+3/5, 9/16, 1/2, which express the Lengths of a Monochord sounding the
+Notes in an Eighth: For by this means the Diameters of the Rings of
+these Colours will be found pretty nearly in the same Proportion to one
+another, which they ought to have by the fifth of these Observations.
+
+And thus I satisfy'd my self, that these Rings were of the same kind and
+Original with those of thin Plates, and by consequence that the Fits or
+alternate Dispositions of the Rays to be reflected and transmitted are
+propagated to great distances from every reflecting and refracting
+Surface. But yet to put the matter out of doubt, I added the following
+Observation.
+
+_Obs._ 9. If these Rings thus depend on the thickness of the Plate of
+Glass, their Diameters at equal distances from several Speculums made of
+such concavo-convex Plates of Glass as are ground on the same Sphere,
+ought to be reciprocally in a subduplicate Proportion of the thicknesses
+of the Plates of Glass. And if this Proportion be found true by
+experience it will amount to a demonstration that these Rings (like
+those formed in thin Plates) do depend on the thickness of the Glass. I
+procured therefore another concavo-convex Plate of Glass ground on both
+sides to the same Sphere with the former Plate. Its thickness was 5/62
+Parts of an Inch; and the Diameters of the three first bright Rings
+measured between the brightest Parts of their Orbits at the distance of
+six Feet from the Glass were 3·4-1/6·5-1/8· Inches. Now, the thickness
+of the other Glass being 1/4 of an Inch was to the thickness of this
+Glass as 1/4 to 5/62, that is as 31 to 10, or 310000000 to 100000000,
+and the Roots of these Numbers are 17607 and 10000, and in the
+Proportion of the first of these Roots to the second are the Diameters
+of the bright Rings made in this Observation by the thinner Glass,
+3·4-1/6·5-1/8, to the Diameters of the same Rings made in the third of
+these Observations by the thicker Glass 1-11/16, 2-3/8. 2-11/12, that
+is, the Diameters of the Rings are reciprocally in a subduplicate
+Proportion of the thicknesses of the Plates of Glass.
+
+So then in Plates of Glass which are alike concave on one side, and
+alike convex on the other side, and alike quick-silver'd on the convex
+sides, and differ in nothing but their thickness, the Diameters of the
+Rings are reciprocally in a subduplicate Proportion of the thicknesses
+of the Plates. And this shews sufficiently that the Rings depend on both
+the Surfaces of the Glass. They depend on the convex Surface, because
+they are more luminous when that Surface is quick-silver'd over than
+when it is without Quick-silver. They depend also upon the concave
+Surface, because without that Surface a Speculum makes them not. They
+depend on both Surfaces, and on the distances between them, because
+their bigness is varied by varying only that distance. And this
+dependence is of the same kind with that which the Colours of thin
+Plates have on the distance of the Surfaces of those Plates, because the
+bigness of the Rings, and their Proportion to one another, and the
+variation of their bigness arising from the variation of the thickness
+of the Glass, and the Orders of their Colours, is such as ought to
+result from the Propositions in the end of the third Part of this Book,
+derived from the Phænomena of the Colours of thin Plates set down in the
+first Part.
+
+There are yet other Phænomena of these Rings of Colours, but such as
+follow from the same Propositions, and therefore confirm both the Truth
+of those Propositions, and the Analogy between these Rings and the Rings
+of Colours made by very thin Plates. I shall subjoin some of them.
+
+_Obs._ 10. When the beam of the Sun's Light was reflected back from the
+Speculum not directly to the hole in the Window, but to a place a little
+distant from it, the common center of that Spot, and of all the Rings of
+Colours fell in the middle way between the beam of the incident Light,
+and the beam of the reflected Light, and by consequence in the center of
+the spherical concavity of the Speculum, whenever the Chart on which the
+Rings of Colours fell was placed at that center. And as the beam of
+reflected Light by inclining the Speculum receded more and more from the
+beam of incident Light and from the common center of the colour'd Rings
+between them, those Rings grew bigger and bigger, and so also did the
+white round Spot, and new Rings of Colours emerged successively out of
+their common center, and the white Spot became a white Ring
+encompassing them; and the incident and reflected beams of Light always
+fell upon the opposite parts of this white Ring, illuminating its
+Perimeter like two mock Suns in the opposite parts of an Iris. So then
+the Diameter of this Ring, measured from the middle of its Light on one
+side to the middle of its Light on the other side, was always equal to
+the distance between the middle of the incident beam of Light, and the
+middle of the reflected beam measured at the Chart on which the Rings
+appeared: And the Rays which form'd this Ring were reflected by the
+Speculum in Angles equal to their Angles of Incidence, and by
+consequence to their Angles of Refraction at their entrance into the
+Glass, but yet their Angles of Reflexion were not in the same Planes
+with their Angles of Incidence.
+
+_Obs._ 11. The Colours of the new Rings were in a contrary order to
+those of the former, and arose after this manner. The white round Spot
+of Light in the middle of the Rings continued white to the center till
+the distance of the incident and reflected beams at the Chart was about
+7/8 parts of an Inch, and then it began to grow dark in the middle. And
+when that distance was about 1-3/16 of an Inch, the white Spot was
+become a Ring encompassing a dark round Spot which in the middle
+inclined to violet and indigo. And the luminous Rings encompassing it
+were grown equal to those dark ones which in the four first Observations
+encompassed them, that is to say, the white Spot was grown a white Ring
+equal to the first of those dark Rings, and the first of those luminous
+Rings was now grown equal to the second of those dark ones, and the
+second of those luminous ones to the third of those dark ones, and so
+on. For the Diameters of the luminous Rings were now 1-3/16, 2-1/16,
+2-2/3, 3-3/20, &c. Inches.
+
+When the distance between the incident and reflected beams of Light
+became a little bigger, there emerged out of the middle of the dark Spot
+after the indigo a blue, and then out of that blue a pale green, and
+soon after a yellow and red. And when the Colour at the center was
+brightest, being between yellow and red, the bright Rings were grown
+equal to those Rings which in the four first Observations next
+encompassed them; that is to say, the white Spot in the middle of those
+Rings was now become a white Ring equal to the first of those bright
+Rings, and the first of those bright ones was now become equal to the
+second of those, and so on. For the Diameters of the white Ring, and of
+the other luminous Rings encompassing it, were now 1-11/16, 2-3/8,
+2-11/12, 3-3/8, &c. or thereabouts.
+
+When the distance of the two beams of Light at the Chart was a little
+more increased, there emerged out of the middle in order after the red,
+a purple, a blue, a green, a yellow, and a red inclining much to purple,
+and when the Colour was brightest being between yellow and red, the
+former indigo, blue, green, yellow and red, were become an Iris or Ring
+of Colours equal to the first of those luminous Rings which appeared in
+the four first Observations, and the white Ring which was now become
+the second of the luminous Rings was grown equal to the second of those,
+and the first of those which was now become the third Ring was become
+equal to the third of those, and so on. For their Diameters were
+1-11/16, 2-3/8, 2-11/12, 3-3/8 Inches, the distance of the two beams of
+Light, and the Diameter of the white Ring being 2-3/8 Inches.
+
+When these two beams became more distant there emerged out of the middle
+of the purplish red, first a darker round Spot, and then out of the
+middle of that Spot a brighter. And now the former Colours (purple,
+blue, green, yellow, and purplish red) were become a Ring equal to the
+first of the bright Rings mentioned in the four first Observations, and
+the Rings about this Ring were grown equal to the Rings about that
+respectively; the distance between the two beams of Light and the
+Diameter of the white Ring (which was now become the third Ring) being
+about 3 Inches.
+
+The Colours of the Rings in the middle began now to grow very dilute,
+and if the distance between the two Beams was increased half an Inch, or
+an Inch more, they vanish'd whilst the white Ring, with one or two of
+the Rings next it on either side, continued still visible. But if the
+distance of the two beams of Light was still more increased, these also
+vanished: For the Light which coming from several parts of the hole in
+the Window fell upon the Speculum in several Angles of Incidence, made
+Rings of several bignesses, which diluted and blotted out one another,
+as I knew by intercepting some part of that Light. For if I intercepted
+that part which was nearest to the Axis of the Speculum the Rings would
+be less, if the other part which was remotest from it they would be
+bigger.
+
+_Obs._ 12. When the Colours of the Prism were cast successively on the
+Speculum, that Ring which in the two last Observations was white, was of
+the same bigness in all the Colours, but the Rings without it were
+greater in the green than in the blue, and still greater in the yellow,
+and greatest in the red. And, on the contrary, the Rings within that
+white Circle were less in the green than in the blue, and still less in
+the yellow, and least in the red. For the Angles of Reflexion of those
+Rays which made this Ring, being equal to their Angles of Incidence, the
+Fits of every reflected Ray within the Glass after Reflexion are equal
+in length and number to the Fits of the same Ray within the Glass before
+its Incidence on the reflecting Surface. And therefore since all the
+Rays of all sorts at their entrance into the Glass were in a Fit of
+Transmission, they were also in a Fit of Transmission at their returning
+to the same Surface after Reflexion; and by consequence were
+transmitted, and went out to the white Ring on the Chart. This is the
+reason why that Ring was of the same bigness in all the Colours, and why
+in a mixture of all it appears white. But in Rays which are reflected in
+other Angles, the Intervals of the Fits of the least refrangible being
+greatest, make the Rings of their Colour in their progress from this
+white Ring, either outwards or inwards, increase or decrease by the
+greatest steps; so that the Rings of this Colour without are greatest,
+and within least. And this is the reason why in the last Observation,
+when the Speculum was illuminated with white Light, the exterior Rings
+made by all Colours appeared red without and blue within, and the
+interior blue without and red within.
+
+These are the Phænomena of thick convexo-concave Plates of Glass, which
+are every where of the same thickness. There are yet other Phænomena
+when these Plates are a little thicker on one side than on the other,
+and others when the Plates are more or less concave than convex, or
+plano-convex, or double-convex. For in all these cases the Plates make
+Rings of Colours, but after various manners; all which, so far as I have
+yet observed, follow from the Propositions in the end of the third part
+of this Book, and so conspire to confirm the truth of those
+Propositions. But the Phænomena are too various, and the Calculations
+whereby they follow from those Propositions too intricate to be here
+prosecuted. I content my self with having prosecuted this kind of
+Phænomena so far as to discover their Cause, and by discovering it to
+ratify the Propositions in the third Part of this Book.
+
+_Obs._ 13. As Light reflected by a Lens quick-silver'd on the backside
+makes the Rings of Colours above described, so it ought to make the like
+Rings of Colours in passing through a drop of Water. At the first
+Reflexion of the Rays within the drop, some Colours ought to be
+transmitted, as in the case of a Lens, and others to be reflected back
+to the Eye. For instance, if the Diameter of a small drop or globule of
+Water be about the 500th part of an Inch, so that a red-making Ray in
+passing through the middle of this globule has 250 Fits of easy
+Transmission within the globule, and that all the red-making Rays which
+are at a certain distance from this middle Ray round about it have 249
+Fits within the globule, and all the like Rays at a certain farther
+distance round about it have 248 Fits, and all those at a certain
+farther distance 247 Fits, and so on; these concentrick Circles of Rays
+after their transmission, falling on a white Paper, will make
+concentrick Rings of red upon the Paper, supposing the Light which
+passes through one single globule, strong enough to be sensible. And, in
+like manner, the Rays of other Colours will make Rings of other Colours.
+Suppose now that in a fair Day the Sun shines through a thin Cloud of
+such globules of Water or Hail, and that the globules are all of the
+same bigness; and the Sun seen through this Cloud shall appear
+encompassed with the like concentrick Rings of Colours, and the Diameter
+of the first Ring of red shall be 7-1/4 Degrees, that of the second
+10-1/4 Degrees, that of the third 12 Degrees 33 Minutes. And accordingly
+as the Globules of Water are bigger or less, the Rings shall be less or
+bigger. This is the Theory, and Experience answers it. For in _June_
+1692, I saw by reflexion in a Vessel of stagnating Water three Halos,
+Crowns, or Rings of Colours about the Sun, like three little Rain-bows,
+concentrick to his Body. The Colours of the first or innermost Crown
+were blue next the Sun, red without, and white in the middle between the
+blue and red. Those of the second Crown were purple and blue within, and
+pale red without, and green in the middle. And those of the third were
+pale blue within, and pale red without; these Crowns enclosed one
+another immediately, so that their Colours proceeded in this continual
+order from the Sun outward: blue, white, red; purple, blue, green, pale
+yellow and red; pale blue, pale red. The Diameter of the second Crown
+measured from the middle of the yellow and red on one side of the Sun,
+to the middle of the same Colour on the other side was 9-1/3 Degrees, or
+thereabouts. The Diameters of the first and third I had not time to
+measure, but that of the first seemed to be about five or six Degrees,
+and that of the third about twelve. The like Crowns appear sometimes
+about the Moon; for in the beginning of the Year 1664, _Febr._ 19th at
+Night, I saw two such Crowns about her. The Diameter of the first or
+innermost was about three Degrees, and that of the second about five
+Degrees and an half. Next about the Moon was a Circle of white, and next
+about that the inner Crown, which was of a bluish green within next the
+white, and of a yellow and red without, and next about these Colours
+were blue and green on the inside of the outward Crown, and red on the
+outside of it. At the same time there appear'd a Halo about 22 Degrees
+35´ distant from the center of the Moon. It was elliptical, and its long
+Diameter was perpendicular to the Horizon, verging below farthest from
+the Moon. I am told that the Moon has sometimes three or more
+concentrick Crowns of Colours encompassing one another next about her
+Body. The more equal the globules of Water or Ice are to one another,
+the more Crowns of Colours will appear, and the Colours will be the more
+lively. The Halo at the distance of 22-1/2 Degrees from the Moon is of
+another sort. By its being oval and remoter from the Moon below than
+above, I conclude, that it was made by Refraction in some sort of Hail
+or Snow floating in the Air in an horizontal posture, the refracting
+Angle being about 58 or 60 Degrees.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+THIRD BOOK
+
+OF
+
+OPTICKS
+
+
+_PART I._
+
+_Observations concerning the Inflexions of the Rays of Light, and the
+Colours made thereby._
+
+Grimaldo has inform'd us, that if a beam of the Sun's Light be let into
+a dark Room through a very small hole, the Shadows of things in this
+Light will be larger than they ought to be if the Rays went on by the
+Bodies in straight Lines, and that these Shadows have three parallel
+Fringes, Bands or Ranks of colour'd Light adjacent to them. But if the
+Hole be enlarged the Fringes grow broad and run into one another, so
+that they cannot be distinguish'd. These broad Shadows and Fringes have
+been reckon'd by some to proceed from the ordinary refraction of the
+Air, but without due examination of the Matter. For the circumstances of
+the Phænomenon, so far as I have observed them, are as follows.
+
+_Obs._ 1. I made in a piece of Lead a small Hole with a Pin, whose
+breadth was the 42d part of an Inch. For 21 of those Pins laid together
+took up the breadth of half an Inch. Through this Hole I let into my
+darken'd Chamber a beam of the Sun's Light, and found that the Shadows
+of Hairs, Thred, Pins, Straws, and such like slender Substances placed
+in this beam of Light, were considerably broader than they ought to be,
+if the Rays of Light passed on by these Bodies in right Lines. And
+particularly a Hair of a Man's Head, whose breadth was but the 280th
+part of an Inch, being held in this Light, at the distance of about
+twelve Feet from the Hole, did cast a Shadow which at the distance of
+four Inches from the Hair was the sixtieth part of an Inch broad, that
+is, above four times broader than the Hair, and at the distance of two
+Feet from the Hair was about the eight and twentieth part of an Inch
+broad, that is, ten times broader than the Hair, and at the distance of
+ten Feet was the eighth part of an Inch broad, that is 35 times broader.
+
+Nor is it material whether the Hair be encompassed with Air, or with any
+other pellucid Substance. For I wetted a polish'd Plate of Glass, and
+laid the Hair in the Water upon the Glass, and then laying another
+polish'd Plate of Glass upon it, so that the Water might fill up the
+space between the Glasses, I held them in the aforesaid beam of Light,
+so that the Light might pass through them perpendicularly, and the
+Shadow of the Hair was at the same distances as big as before. The
+Shadows of Scratches made in polish'd Plates of Glass were also much
+broader than they ought to be, and the Veins in polish'd Plates of Glass
+did also cast the like broad Shadows. And therefore the great breadth of
+these Shadows proceeds from some other cause than the Refraction of the
+Air.
+
+Let the Circle X [in _Fig._ 1.] represent the middle of the Hair; ADG,
+BEH, CFI, three Rays passing by one side of the Hair at several
+distances; KNQ, LOR, MPS, three other Rays passing by the other side of
+the Hair at the like distances; D, E, F, and N, O, P, the places where
+the Rays are bent in their passage by the Hair; G, H, I, and Q, R, S,
+the places where the Rays fall on a Paper GQ; IS the breadth of the
+Shadow of the Hair cast on the Paper, and TI, VS, two Rays passing to
+the Points I and S without bending when the Hair is taken away. And it's
+manifest that all the Light between these two Rays TI and VS is bent in
+passing by the Hair, and turned aside from the Shadow IS, because if any
+part of this Light were not bent it would fall on the Paper within the
+Shadow, and there illuminate the Paper, contrary to experience. And
+because when the Paper is at a great distance from the Hair, the Shadow
+is broad, and therefore the Rays TI and VS are at a great distance from
+one another, it follows that the Hair acts upon the Rays of Light at a
+good distance in their passing by it. But the Action is strongest on the
+Rays which pass by at least distances, and grows weaker and weaker
+accordingly as the Rays pass by at distances greater and greater, as is
+represented in the Scheme: For thence it comes to pass, that the Shadow
+of the Hair is much broader in proportion to the distance of the Paper
+from the Hair, when the Paper is nearer the Hair, than when it is at a
+great distance from it.
+
+_Obs._ 2. The Shadows of all Bodies (Metals, Stones, Glass, Wood, Horn,
+Ice, &c.) in this Light were border'd with three Parallel Fringes or
+Bands of colour'd Light, whereof that which was contiguous to the Shadow
+was broadest and most luminous, and that which was remotest from it was
+narrowest, and so faint, as not easily to be visible. It was difficult
+to distinguish the Colours, unless when the Light fell very obliquely
+upon a smooth Paper, or some other smooth white Body, so as to make them
+appear much broader than they would otherwise do. And then the Colours
+were plainly visible in this Order: The first or innermost Fringe was
+violet and deep blue next the Shadow, and then light blue, green, and
+yellow in the middle, and red without. The second Fringe was almost
+contiguous to the first, and the third to the second, and both were blue
+within, and yellow and red without, but their Colours were very faint,
+especially those of the third. The Colours therefore proceeded in this
+order from the Shadow; violet, indigo, pale blue, green, yellow, red;
+blue, yellow, red; pale blue, pale yellow and red. The Shadows made by
+Scratches and Bubbles in polish'd Plates of Glass were border'd with the
+like Fringes of colour'd Light. And if Plates of Looking-glass sloop'd
+off near the edges with a Diamond-cut, be held in the same beam of
+Light, the Light which passes through the parallel Planes of the Glass
+will be border'd with the like Fringes of Colours where those Planes
+meet with the Diamond-cut, and by this means there will sometimes appear
+four or five Fringes of Colours. Let AB, CD [in _Fig._ 2.] represent the
+parallel Planes of a Looking-glass, and BD the Plane of the Diamond-cut,
+making at B a very obtuse Angle with the Plane AB. And let all the Light
+between the Rays ENI and FBM pass directly through the parallel Planes
+of the Glass, and fall upon the Paper between I and M, and all the Light
+between the Rays GO and HD be refracted by the oblique Plane of the
+Diamond-cut BD, and fall upon the Paper between K and L; and the Light
+which passes directly through the parallel Planes of the Glass, and
+falls upon the Paper between I and M, will be border'd with three or
+more Fringes at M.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 1.]
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
+
+So by looking on the Sun through a Feather or black Ribband held close
+to the Eye, several Rain-bows will appear; the Shadows which the Fibres
+or Threds cast on the _Tunica Retina_, being border'd with the like
+Fringes of Colours.
+
+_Obs._ 3. When the Hair was twelve Feet distant from this Hole, and its
+Shadow fell obliquely upon a flat white Scale of Inches and Parts of an
+Inch placed half a Foot beyond it, and also when the Shadow fell
+perpendicularly upon the same Scale placed nine Feet beyond it; I
+measured the breadth of the Shadow and Fringes as accurately as I could,
+and found them in Parts of an Inch as follows.
+
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+ | half a | Nine
+ At the Distance of | Foot | Feet
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth of the Shadow | 1/54 | 1/9
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth between the Middles of the | 1/38 |
+ brightest Light of the innermost Fringes | or |
+ on either side the Shadow | 1/39 | 7/50
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth between the Middles of the | |
+ brightest Light of the middlemost Fringes| |
+ on either side the Shadow | 1/23-1/2 | 4/17
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth between the Middles of the | 1/18 |
+ brightest Light of the outmost Fringes | or |
+ on either side the Shadow | 1/18-1/2 | 3/10
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The distance between the Middles of the | |
+ brightest Light of the first and second | |
+ Fringes | 1/120 | 1/21
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The distance between the Middles of the | |
+ brightest Light of the second and third | |
+ Fringes | 1/170 | 1/31
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth of the luminous Part (green, | |
+ white, yellow, and red) of the first | |
+ Fringe | 1/170 | 1/32
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth of the darker Space between | |
+ the first and second Fringes | 1/240 | 1/45
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth of the luminous Part of the | |
+ second Fringe | 1/290 | 1/55
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+The breadth of the darker Space between | |
+ the second and third Fringes | 1/340 | 1/63
+-------------------------------------------+-----------+--------
+
+These Measures I took by letting the Shadow of the Hair, at half a Foot
+distance, fall so obliquely on the Scale, as to appear twelve times
+broader than when it fell perpendicularly on it at the same distance,
+and setting down in this Table the twelfth part of the Measures I then
+took.
+
+_Obs._ 4. When the Shadow and Fringes were cast obliquely upon a smooth
+white Body, and that Body was removed farther and farther from the Hair,
+the first Fringe began to appear and look brighter than the rest of the
+Light at the distance of less than a quarter of an Inch from the Hair,
+and the dark Line or Shadow between that and the second Fringe began to
+appear at a less distance from the Hair than that of the third part of
+an Inch. The second Fringe began to appear at a distance from the Hair
+of less than half an Inch, and the Shadow between that and the third
+Fringe at a distance less than an inch, and the third Fringe at a
+distance less than three Inches. At greater distances they became much
+more sensible, but kept very nearly the same proportion of their
+breadths and intervals which they had at their first appearing. For the
+distance between the middle of the first, and middle of the second
+Fringe, was to the distance between the middle of the second and middle
+of the third Fringe, as three to two, or ten to seven. And the last of
+these two distances was equal to the breadth of the bright Light or
+luminous part of the first Fringe. And this breadth was to the breadth
+of the bright Light of the second Fringe as seven to four, and to the
+dark Interval of the first and second Fringe as three to two, and to
+the like dark Interval between the second and third as two to one. For
+the breadths of the Fringes seem'd to be in the progression of the
+Numbers 1, sqrt(1/3), sqrt(1/5), and their Intervals to be in the
+same progression with them; that is, the Fringes and their Intervals
+together to be in the continual progression of the Numbers 1,
+sqrt(1/2), sqrt(1/3), sqrt(1/4), sqrt(1/5), or thereabouts. And
+these Proportions held the same very nearly at all distances from the
+Hair; the dark Intervals of the Fringes being as broad in proportion to
+the breadth of the Fringes at their first appearance as afterwards at
+great distances from the Hair, though not so dark and distinct.
+
+_Obs._ 5. The Sun shining into my darken'd Chamber through a hole a
+quarter of an Inch broad, I placed at the distance of two or three Feet
+from the Hole a Sheet of Pasteboard, which was black'd all over on both
+sides, and in the middle of it had a hole about three quarters of an
+Inch square for the Light to pass through. And behind the hole I
+fasten'd to the Pasteboard with Pitch the blade of a sharp Knife, to
+intercept some part of the Light which passed through the hole. The
+Planes of the Pasteboard and blade of the Knife were parallel to one
+another, and perpendicular to the Rays. And when they were so placed
+that none of the Sun's Light fell on the Pasteboard, but all of it
+passed through the hole to the Knife, and there part of it fell upon the
+blade of the Knife, and part of it passed by its edge; I let this part
+of the Light which passed by, fall on a white Paper two or three Feet
+beyond the Knife, and there saw two streams of faint Light shoot out
+both ways from the beam of Light into the shadow, like the Tails of
+Comets. But because the Sun's direct Light by its brightness upon the
+Paper obscured these faint streams, so that I could scarce see them, I
+made a little hole in the midst of the Paper for that Light to pass
+through and fall on a black Cloth behind it; and then I saw the two
+streams plainly. They were like one another, and pretty nearly equal in
+length, and breadth, and quantity of Light. Their Light at that end next
+the Sun's direct Light was pretty strong for the space of about a
+quarter of an Inch, or half an Inch, and in all its progress from that
+direct Light decreased gradually till it became insensible. The whole
+length of either of these streams measured upon the paper at the
+distance of three Feet from the Knife was about six or eight Inches; so
+that it subtended an Angle at the edge of the Knife of about 10 or 12,
+or at most 14 Degrees. Yet sometimes I thought I saw it shoot three or
+four Degrees farther, but with a Light so very faint that I could scarce
+perceive it, and suspected it might (in some measure at least) arise
+from some other cause than the two streams did. For placing my Eye in
+that Light beyond the end of that stream which was behind the Knife, and
+looking towards the Knife, I could see a line of Light upon its edge,
+and that not only when my Eye was in the line of the Streams, but also
+when it was without that line either towards the point of the Knife, or
+towards the handle. This line of Light appear'd contiguous to the edge
+of the Knife, and was narrower than the Light of the innermost Fringe,
+and narrowest when my Eye was farthest from the direct Light, and
+therefore seem'd to pass between the Light of that Fringe and the edge
+of the Knife, and that which passed nearest the edge to be most bent,
+though not all of it.
+
+_Obs._ 6. I placed another Knife by this, so that their edges might be
+parallel, and look towards one another, and that the beam of Light might
+fall upon both the Knives, and some part of it pass between their edges.
+And when the distance of their edges was about the 400th part of an
+Inch, the stream parted in the middle, and left a Shadow between the two
+parts. This Shadow was so black and dark that all the Light which passed
+between the Knives seem'd to be bent, and turn'd aside to the one hand
+or to the other. And as the Knives still approach'd one another the
+Shadow grew broader, and the streams shorter at their inward ends which
+were next the Shadow, until upon the contact of the Knives the whole
+Light vanish'd, leaving its place to the Shadow.
+
+And hence I gather that the Light which is least bent, and goes to the
+inward ends of the streams, passes by the edges of the Knives at the
+greatest distance, and this distance when the Shadow begins to appear
+between the streams, is about the 800th part of an Inch. And the Light
+which passes by the edges of the Knives at distances still less and
+less, is more and more bent, and goes to those parts of the streams
+which are farther and farther from the direct Light; because when the
+Knives approach one another till they touch, those parts of the streams
+vanish last which are farthest from the direct Light.
+
+_Obs._ 7. In the fifth Observation the Fringes did not appear, but by
+reason of the breadth of the hole in the Window became so broad as to
+run into one another, and by joining, to make one continued Light in the
+beginning of the streams. But in the sixth, as the Knives approached one
+another, a little before the Shadow appeared between the two streams,
+the Fringes began to appear on the inner ends of the Streams on either
+side of the direct Light; three on one side made by the edge of one
+Knife, and three on the other side made by the edge of the other Knife.
+They were distinctest when the Knives were placed at the greatest
+distance from the hole in the Window, and still became more distinct by
+making the hole less, insomuch that I could sometimes see a faint
+lineament of a fourth Fringe beyond the three above mention'd. And as
+the Knives continually approach'd one another, the Fringes grew
+distincter and larger, until they vanish'd. The outmost Fringe vanish'd
+first, and the middlemost next, and the innermost last. And after they
+were all vanish'd, and the line of Light which was in the middle between
+them was grown very broad, enlarging it self on both sides into the
+streams of Light described in the fifth Observation, the above-mention'd
+Shadow began to appear in the middle of this line, and divide it along
+the middle into two lines of Light, and increased until the whole Light
+vanish'd. This enlargement of the Fringes was so great that the Rays
+which go to the innermost Fringe seem'd to be bent above twenty times
+more when this Fringe was ready to vanish, than when one of the Knives
+was taken away.
+
+And from this and the former Observation compared, I gather, that the
+Light of the first Fringe passed by the edge of the Knife at a distance
+greater than the 800th part of an Inch, and the Light of the second
+Fringe passed by the edge of the Knife at a greater distance than the
+Light of the first Fringe did, and that of the third at a greater
+distance than that of the second, and that of the streams of Light
+described in the fifth and sixth Observations passed by the edges of the
+Knives at less distances than that of any of the Fringes.
+
+_Obs._ 8. I caused the edges of two Knives to be ground truly strait,
+and pricking their points into a Board so that their edges might look
+towards one another, and meeting near their points contain a rectilinear
+Angle, I fasten'd their Handles together with Pitch to make this Angle
+invariable. The distance of the edges of the Knives from one another at
+the distance of four Inches from the angular Point, where the edges of
+the Knives met, was the eighth part of an Inch; and therefore the Angle
+contain'd by the edges was about one Degree 54: The Knives thus fix'd
+together I placed in a beam of the Sun's Light, let into my darken'd
+Chamber through a Hole the 42d Part of an Inch wide, at the distance of
+10 or 15 Feet from the Hole, and let the Light which passed between
+their edges fall very obliquely upon a smooth white Ruler at the
+distance of half an Inch, or an Inch from the Knives, and there saw the
+Fringes by the two edges of the Knives run along the edges of the
+Shadows of the Knives in Lines parallel to those edges without growing
+sensibly broader, till they met in Angles equal to the Angle contained
+by the edges of the Knives, and where they met and joined they ended
+without crossing one another. But if the Ruler was held at a much
+greater distance from the Knives, the Fringes where they were farther
+from the Place of their Meeting, were a little narrower, and became
+something broader and broader as they approach'd nearer and nearer to
+one another, and after they met they cross'd one another, and then
+became much broader than before.
+
+Whence I gather that the distances at which the Fringes pass by the
+Knives are not increased nor alter'd by the approach of the Knives, but
+the Angles in which the Rays are there bent are much increased by that
+approach; and that the Knife which is nearest any Ray determines which
+way the Ray shall be bent, and the other Knife increases the bent.
+
+_Obs._ 9. When the Rays fell very obliquely upon the Ruler at the
+distance of the third Part of an Inch from the Knives, the dark Line
+between the first and second Fringe of the Shadow of one Knife, and the
+dark Line between the first and second Fringe of the Shadow of the other
+knife met with one another, at the distance of the fifth Part of an Inch
+from the end of the Light which passed between the Knives at the
+concourse of their edges. And therefore the distance of the edges of the
+Knives at the meeting of these dark Lines was the 160th Part of an Inch.
+For as four Inches to the eighth Part of an Inch, so is any Length of
+the edges of the Knives measured from the point of their concourse to
+the distance of the edges of the Knives at the end of that Length, and
+so is the fifth Part of an Inch to the 160th Part. So then the dark
+Lines above-mention'd meet in the middle of the Light which passes
+between the Knives where they are distant the 160th Part of an Inch, and
+the one half of that Light passes by the edge of one Knife at a distance
+not greater than the 320th Part of an Inch, and falling upon the Paper
+makes the Fringes of the Shadow of that Knife, and the other half passes
+by the edge of the other Knife, at a distance not greater than the 320th
+Part of an Inch, and falling upon the Paper makes the Fringes of the
+Shadow of the other Knife. But if the Paper be held at a distance from
+the Knives greater than the third Part of an Inch, the dark Lines
+above-mention'd meet at a greater distance than the fifth Part of an
+Inch from the end of the Light which passed between the Knives at the
+concourse of their edges; and therefore the Light which falls upon the
+Paper where those dark Lines meet passes between the Knives where the
+edges are distant above the 160th part of an Inch.
+
+For at another time, when the two Knives were distant eight Feet and
+five Inches from the little hole in the Window, made with a small Pin as
+above, the Light which fell upon the Paper where the aforesaid dark
+lines met, passed between the Knives, where the distance between their
+edges was as in the following Table, when the distance of the Paper from
+the Knives was also as follows.
+
+-----------------------------+------------------------------
+ | Distances between the edges
+ Distances of the Paper | of the Knives in millesimal
+ from the Knives in Inches. | parts of an Inch.
+-----------------------------+------------------------------
+ 1-1/2. | 0'012
+ 3-1/3. | 0'020
+ 8-3/5. | 0'034
+ 32. | 0'057
+ 96. | 0'081
+ 131. | 0'087
+_____________________________|______________________________
+
+And hence I gather, that the Light which makes the Fringes upon the
+Paper is not the same Light at all distances of the Paper from the
+Knives, but when the Paper is held near the Knives, the Fringes are made
+by Light which passes by the edges of the Knives at a less distance, and
+is more bent than when the Paper is held at a greater distance from the
+Knives.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
+
+_Obs._ 10. When the Fringes of the Shadows of the Knives fell
+perpendicularly upon a Paper at a great distance from the Knives, they
+were in the form of Hyperbola's, and their Dimensions were as follows.
+Let CA, CB [in _Fig._ 3.] represent Lines drawn upon the Paper parallel
+to the edges of the Knives, and between which all the Light would fall,
+if it passed between the edges of the Knives without inflexion; DE a
+Right Line drawn through C making the Angles ACD, BCE, equal to one
+another, and terminating all the Light which falls upon the Paper from
+the point where the edges of the Knives meet; _eis_, _fkt_, and _glv_,
+three hyperbolical Lines representing the Terminus of the Shadow of one
+of the Knives, the dark Line between the first and second Fringes of
+that Shadow, and the dark Line between the second and third Fringes of
+the same Shadow; _xip_, _ykq_, and _zlr_, three other hyperbolical Lines
+representing the Terminus of the Shadow of the other Knife, the dark
+Line between the first and second Fringes of that Shadow, and the dark
+line between the second and third Fringes of the same Shadow. And
+conceive that these three Hyperbola's are like and equal to the former
+three, and cross them in the points _i_, _k_, and _l_, and that the
+Shadows of the Knives are terminated and distinguish'd from the first
+luminous Fringes by the lines _eis_ and _xip_, until the meeting and
+crossing of the Fringes, and then those lines cross the Fringes in the
+form of dark lines, terminating the first luminous Fringes within side,
+and distinguishing them from another Light which begins to appear at
+_i_, and illuminates all the triangular space _ip_DE_s_ comprehended by
+these dark lines, and the right line DE. Of these Hyperbola's one
+Asymptote is the line DE, and their other Asymptotes are parallel to the
+lines CA and CB. Let _rv_ represent a line drawn any where upon the
+Paper parallel to the Asymptote DE, and let this line cross the right
+lines AC in _m_, and BC in _n_, and the six dark hyperbolical lines in
+_p_, _q_, _r_; _s_, _t_, _v_; and by measuring the distances _ps_, _qt_,
+_rv_, and thence collecting the lengths of the Ordinates _np_, _nq_,
+_nr_ or _ms_, _mt_, _mv_, and doing this at several distances of the
+line _rv_ from the Asymptote DD, you may find as many points of these
+Hyperbola's as you please, and thereby know that these curve lines are
+Hyperbola's differing little from the conical Hyperbola. And by
+measuring the lines C_i_, C_k_, C_l_, you may find other points of these
+Curves.
+
+For instance; when the Knives were distant from the hole in the Window
+ten Feet, and the Paper from the Knives nine Feet, and the Angle
+contained by the edges of the Knives to which the Angle ACB is equal,
+was subtended by a Chord which was to the Radius as 1 to 32, and the
+distance of the line _rv_ from the Asymptote DE was half an Inch: I
+measured the lines _ps_, _qt_, _rv_, and found them 0'35, 0'65, 0'98
+Inches respectively; and by adding to their halfs the line 1/2 _mn_,
+(which here was the 128th part of an Inch, or 0'0078 Inches,) the Sums
+_np_, _nq_, _nr_, were 0'1828, 0'3328, 0'4978 Inches. I measured also
+the distances of the brightest parts of the Fringes which run between
+_pq_ and _st_, _qr_ and _tv_, and next beyond _r_ and _v_, and found
+them 0'5, 0'8, and 1'17 Inches.
+
+_Obs._ 11. The Sun shining into my darken'd Room through a small round
+hole made in a Plate of Lead with a slender Pin, as above; I placed at
+the hole a Prism to refract the Light, and form on the opposite Wall the
+Spectrum of Colours, described in the third Experiment of the first
+Book. And then I found that the Shadows of all Bodies held in the
+colour'd Light between the Prism and the Wall, were border'd with
+Fringes of the Colour of that Light in which they were held. In the full
+red Light they were totally red without any sensible blue or violet, and
+in the deep blue Light they were totally blue without any sensible red
+or yellow; and so in the green Light they were totally green, excepting
+a little yellow and blue, which were mixed in the green Light of the
+Prism. And comparing the Fringes made in the several colour'd Lights, I
+found that those made in the red Light were largest, those made in the
+violet were least, and those made in the green were of a middle bigness.
+For the Fringes with which the Shadow of a Man's Hair were bordered,
+being measured cross the Shadow at the distance of six Inches from the
+Hair, the distance between the middle and most luminous part of the
+first or innermost Fringe on one side of the Shadow, and that of the
+like Fringe on the other side of the Shadow, was in the full red Light
+1/37-1/4 of an Inch, and in the full violet 7/46. And the like distance
+between the middle and most luminous parts of the second Fringes on
+either side the Shadow was in the full red Light 1/22, and in the violet
+1/27 of an Inch. And these distances of the Fringes held the same
+proportion at all distances from the Hair without any sensible
+variation.
+
+So then the Rays which made these Fringes in the red Light passed by the
+Hair at a greater distance than those did which made the like Fringes in
+the violet; and therefore the Hair in causing these Fringes acted alike
+upon the red Light or least refrangible Rays at a greater distance, and
+upon the violet or most refrangible Rays at a less distance, and by
+those actions disposed the red Light into Larger Fringes, and the violet
+into smaller, and the Lights of intermediate Colours into Fringes of
+intermediate bignesses without changing the Colour of any sort of Light.
+
+When therefore the Hair in the first and second of these Observations
+was held in the white beam of the Sun's Light, and cast a Shadow which
+was border'd with three Fringes of coloured Light, those Colours arose
+not from any new modifications impress'd upon the Rays of Light by the
+Hair, but only from the various inflexions whereby the several Sorts of
+Rays were separated from one another, which before separation, by the
+mixture of all their Colours, composed the white beam of the Sun's
+Light, but whenever separated compose Lights of the several Colours
+which they are originally disposed to exhibit. In this 11th Observation,
+where the Colours are separated before the Light passes by the Hair, the
+least refrangible Rays, which when separated from the rest make red,
+were inflected at a greater distance from the Hair, so as to make three
+red Fringes at a greater distance from the middle of the Shadow of the
+Hair; and the most refrangible Rays which when separated make violet,
+were inflected at a less distance from the Hair, so as to make three
+violet Fringes at a less distance from the middle of the Shadow of the
+Hair. And other Rays of intermediate degrees of Refrangibility were
+inflected at intermediate distances from the Hair, so as to make Fringes
+of intermediate Colours at intermediate distances from the middle of the
+Shadow of the Hair. And in the second Observation, where all the Colours
+are mix'd in the white Light which passes by the Hair, these Colours are
+separated by the various inflexions of the Rays, and the Fringes which
+they make appear all together, and the innermost Fringes being
+contiguous make one broad Fringe composed of all the Colours in due
+order, the violet lying on the inside of the Fringe next the Shadow, the
+red on the outside farthest from the Shadow, and the blue, green, and
+yellow, in the middle. And, in like manner, the middlemost Fringes of
+all the Colours lying in order, and being contiguous, make another broad
+Fringe composed of all the Colours; and the outmost Fringes of all the
+Colours lying in order, and being contiguous, make a third broad Fringe
+composed of all the Colours. These are the three Fringes of colour'd
+Light with which the Shadows of all Bodies are border'd in the second
+Observation.
+
+When I made the foregoing Observations, I design'd to repeat most of
+them with more care and exactness, and to make some new ones for
+determining the manner how the Rays of Light are bent in their passage
+by Bodies, for making the Fringes of Colours with the dark lines between
+them. But I was then interrupted, and cannot now think of taking these
+things into farther Consideration. And since I have not finish'd this
+part of my Design, I shall conclude with proposing only some Queries, in
+order to a farther search to be made by others.
+
+_Query_ 1. Do not Bodies act upon Light at a distance, and by their
+action bend its Rays; and is not this action (_cæteris paribus_)
+strongest at the least distance?
+
+_Qu._ 2. Do not the Rays which differ in Refrangibility differ also in
+Flexibity; and are they not by their different Inflexions separated from
+one another, so as after separation to make the Colours in the three
+Fringes above described? And after what manner are they inflected to
+make those Fringes?
+
+_Qu._ 3. Are not the Rays of Light in passing by the edges and sides of
+Bodies, bent several times backwards and forwards, with a motion like
+that of an Eel? And do not the three Fringes of colour'd Light
+above-mention'd arise from three such bendings?
+
+_Qu._ 4. Do not the Rays of Light which fall upon Bodies, and are
+reflected or refracted, begin to bend before they arrive at the Bodies;
+and are they not reflected, refracted, and inflected, by one and the
+same Principle, acting variously in various Circumstances?
+
+_Qu._ 5. Do not Bodies and Light act mutually upon one another; that is
+to say, Bodies upon Light in emitting, reflecting, refracting and
+inflecting it, and Light upon Bodies for heating them, and putting their
+parts into a vibrating motion wherein heat consists?
+
+_Qu._ 6. Do not black Bodies conceive heat more easily from Light than
+those of other Colours do, by reason that the Light falling on them is
+not reflected outwards, but enters the Bodies, and is often reflected
+and refracted within them, until it be stifled and lost?
+
+_Qu._ 7. Is not the strength and vigor of the action between Light and
+sulphureous Bodies observed above, one reason why sulphureous Bodies
+take fire more readily, and burn more vehemently than other Bodies do?
+
+_Qu._ 8. Do not all fix'd Bodies, when heated beyond a certain degree,
+emit Light and shine; and is not this Emission perform'd by the
+vibrating motions of their parts? And do not all Bodies which abound
+with terrestrial parts, and especially with sulphureous ones, emit Light
+as often as those parts are sufficiently agitated; whether that
+agitation be made by Heat, or by Friction, or Percussion, or
+Putrefaction, or by any vital Motion, or any other Cause? As for
+instance; Sea-Water in a raging Storm; Quick-silver agitated in _vacuo_;
+the Back of a Cat, or Neck of a Horse, obliquely struck or rubbed in a
+dark place; Wood, Flesh and Fish while they putrefy; Vapours arising
+from putrefy'd Waters, usually call'd _Ignes Fatui_; Stacks of moist Hay
+or Corn growing hot by fermentation; Glow-worms and the Eyes of some
+Animals by vital Motions; the vulgar _Phosphorus_ agitated by the
+attrition of any Body, or by the acid Particles of the Air; Amber and
+some Diamonds by striking, pressing or rubbing them; Scrapings of Steel
+struck off with a Flint; Iron hammer'd very nimbly till it become so hot
+as to kindle Sulphur thrown upon it; the Axletrees of Chariots taking
+fire by the rapid rotation of the Wheels; and some Liquors mix'd with
+one another whose Particles come together with an Impetus, as Oil of
+Vitriol distilled from its weight of Nitre, and then mix'd with twice
+its weight of Oil of Anniseeds. So also a Globe of Glass about 8 or 10
+Inches in diameter, being put into a Frame where it may be swiftly
+turn'd round its Axis, will in turning shine where it rubs against the
+palm of ones Hand apply'd to it: And if at the same time a piece of
+white Paper or white Cloth, or the end of ones Finger be held at the
+distance of about a quarter of an Inch or half an Inch from that part of
+the Glass where it is most in motion, the electrick Vapour which is
+excited by the friction of the Glass against the Hand, will by dashing
+against the white Paper, Cloth or Finger, be put into such an agitation
+as to emit Light, and make the white Paper, Cloth or Finger, appear
+lucid like a Glowworm; and in rushing out of the Glass will sometimes
+push against the finger so as to be felt. And the same things have been
+found by rubbing a long and large Cylinder or Glass or Amber with a
+Paper held in ones hand, and continuing the friction till the Glass grew
+warm.
+
+_Qu._ 9. Is not Fire a Body heated so hot as to emit Light copiously?
+For what else is a red hot Iron than Fire? And what else is a burning
+Coal than red hot Wood?
+
+_Qu._ 10. Is not Flame a Vapour, Fume or Exhalation heated red hot, that
+is, so hot as to shine? For Bodies do not flame without emitting a
+copious Fume, and this Fume burns in the Flame. The _Ignis Fatuus_ is a
+Vapour shining without heat, and is there not the same difference
+between this Vapour and Flame, as between rotten Wood shining without
+heat and burning Coals of Fire? In distilling hot Spirits, if the Head
+of the Still be taken off, the Vapour which ascends out of the Still
+will take fire at the Flame of a Candle, and turn into Flame, and the
+Flame will run along the Vapour from the Candle to the Still. Some
+Bodies heated by Motion, or Fermentation, if the heat grow intense, fume
+copiously, and if the heat be great enough the Fumes will shine and
+become Flame. Metals in fusion do not flame for want of a copious Fume,
+except Spelter, which fumes copiously, and thereby flames. All flaming
+Bodies, as Oil, Tallow, Wax, Wood, fossil Coals, Pitch, Sulphur, by
+flaming waste and vanish into burning Smoke, which Smoke, if the Flame
+be put out, is very thick and visible, and sometimes smells strongly,
+but in the Flame loses its smell by burning, and according to the nature
+of the Smoke the Flame is of several Colours, as that of Sulphur blue,
+that of Copper open'd with sublimate green, that of Tallow yellow, that
+of Camphire white. Smoke passing through Flame cannot but grow red hot,
+and red hot Smoke can have no other appearance than that of Flame. When
+Gun-powder takes fire, it goes away into Flaming Smoke. For the Charcoal
+and Sulphur easily take fire, and set fire to the Nitre, and the Spirit
+of the Nitre being thereby rarified into Vapour, rushes out with
+Explosion much after the manner that the Vapour of Water rushes out of
+an Æolipile; the Sulphur also being volatile is converted into Vapour,
+and augments the Explosion. And the acid Vapour of the Sulphur (namely
+that which distils under a Bell into Oil of Sulphur,) entring violently
+into the fix'd Body of the Nitre, sets loose the Spirit of the Nitre,
+and excites a great Fermentation, whereby the Heat is farther augmented,
+and the fix'd Body of the Nitre is also rarified into Fume, and the
+Explosion is thereby made more vehement and quick. For if Salt of Tartar
+be mix'd with Gun-powder, and that Mixture be warm'd till it takes fire,
+the Explosion will be more violent and quick than that of Gun-powder
+alone; which cannot proceed from any other cause than the action of the
+Vapour of the Gun-powder upon the Salt of Tartar, whereby that Salt is
+rarified. The Explosion of Gun-powder arises therefore from the violent
+action whereby all the Mixture being quickly and vehemently heated, is
+rarified and converted into Fume and Vapour: which Vapour, by the
+violence of that action, becoming so hot as to shine, appears in the
+form of Flame.
+
+_Qu._ 11. Do not great Bodies conserve their heat the longest, their
+parts heating one another, and may not great dense and fix'd Bodies,
+when heated beyond a certain degree, emit Light so copiously, as by the
+Emission and Re-action of its Light, and the Reflexions and Refractions
+of its Rays within its Pores to grow still hotter, till it comes to a
+certain period of heat, such as is that of the Sun? And are not the Sun
+and fix'd Stars great Earths vehemently hot, whose heat is conserved by
+the greatness of the Bodies, and the mutual Action and Reaction between
+them, and the Light which they emit, and whose parts are kept from
+fuming away, not only by their fixity, but also by the vast weight and
+density of the Atmospheres incumbent upon them; and very strongly
+compressing them, and condensing the Vapours and Exhalations which arise
+from them? For if Water be made warm in any pellucid Vessel emptied of
+Air, that Water in the _Vacuum_ will bubble and boil as vehemently as it
+would in the open Air in a Vessel set upon the Fire till it conceives a
+much greater heat. For the weight of the incumbent Atmosphere keeps down
+the Vapours, and hinders the Water from boiling, until it grow much
+hotter than is requisite to make it boil _in vacuo_. Also a mixture of
+Tin and Lead being put upon a red hot Iron _in vacuo_ emits a Fume and
+Flame, but the same Mixture in the open Air, by reason of the incumbent
+Atmosphere, does not so much as emit any Fume which can be perceived by
+Sight. In like manner the great weight of the Atmosphere which lies upon
+the Globe of the Sun may hinder Bodies there from rising up and going
+away from the Sun in the form of Vapours and Fumes, unless by means of a
+far greater heat than that which on the Surface of our Earth would very
+easily turn them into Vapours and Fumes. And the same great weight may
+condense those Vapours and Exhalations as soon as they shall at any time
+begin to ascend from the Sun, and make them presently fall back again
+into him, and by that action increase his Heat much after the manner
+that in our Earth the Air increases the Heat of a culinary Fire. And the
+same weight may hinder the Globe of the Sun from being diminish'd,
+unless by the Emission of Light, and a very small quantity of Vapours
+and Exhalations.
+
+_Qu._ 12. Do not the Rays of Light in falling upon the bottom of the Eye
+excite Vibrations in the _Tunica Retina_? Which Vibrations, being
+propagated along the solid Fibres of the optick Nerves into the Brain,
+cause the Sense of seeing. For because dense Bodies conserve their Heat
+a long time, and the densest Bodies conserve their Heat the longest, the
+Vibrations of their parts are of a lasting nature, and therefore may be
+propagated along solid Fibres of uniform dense Matter to a great
+distance, for conveying into the Brain the impressions made upon all the
+Organs of Sense. For that Motion which can continue long in one and the
+same part of a Body, can be propagated a long way from one part to
+another, supposing the Body homogeneal, so that the Motion may not be
+reflected, refracted, interrupted or disorder'd by any unevenness of the
+Body.
+
+_Qu._ 13. Do not several sorts of Rays make Vibrations of several
+bignesses, which according to their bignesses excite Sensations of
+several Colours, much after the manner that the Vibrations of the Air,
+according to their several bignesses excite Sensations of several
+Sounds? And particularly do not the most refrangible Rays excite the
+shortest Vibrations for making a Sensation of deep violet, the least
+refrangible the largest for making a Sensation of deep red, and the
+several intermediate sorts of Rays, Vibrations of several intermediate
+bignesses to make Sensations of the several intermediate Colours?
+
+_Qu._ 14. May not the harmony and discord of Colours arise from the
+proportions of the Vibrations propagated through the Fibres of the
+optick Nerves into the Brain, as the harmony and discord of Sounds arise
+from the proportions of the Vibrations of the Air? For some Colours, if
+they be view'd together, are agreeable to one another, as those of Gold
+and Indigo, and others disagree.
+
+_Qu._ 15. Are not the Species of Objects seen with both Eyes united
+where the optick Nerves meet before they come into the Brain, the Fibres
+on the right side of both Nerves uniting there, and after union going
+thence into the Brain in the Nerve which is on the right side of the
+Head, and the Fibres on the left side of both Nerves uniting in the same
+place, and after union going into the Brain in the Nerve which is on the
+left side of the Head, and these two Nerves meeting in the Brain in such
+a manner that their Fibres make but one entire Species or Picture, half
+of which on the right side of the Sensorium comes from the right side of
+both Eyes through the right side of both optick Nerves to the place
+where the Nerves meet, and from thence on the right side of the Head
+into the Brain, and the other half on the left side of the Sensorium
+comes in like manner from the left side of both Eyes. For the optick
+Nerves of such Animals as look the same way with both Eyes (as of Men,
+Dogs, Sheep, Oxen, &c.) meet before they come into the Brain, but the
+optick Nerves of such Animals as do not look the same way with both Eyes
+(as of Fishes, and of the Chameleon,) do not meet, if I am rightly
+inform'd.
+
+_Qu._ 16. When a Man in the dark presses either corner of his Eye with
+his Finger, and turns his Eye away from his Finger, he will see a Circle
+of Colours like those in the Feather of a Peacock's Tail. If the Eye and
+the Finger remain quiet these Colours vanish in a second Minute of Time,
+but if the Finger be moved with a quavering Motion they appear again. Do
+not these Colours arise from such Motions excited in the bottom of the
+Eye by the Pressure and Motion of the Finger, as, at other times are
+excited there by Light for causing Vision? And do not the Motions once
+excited continue about a Second of Time before they cease? And when a
+Man by a stroke upon his Eye sees a flash of Light, are not the like
+Motions excited in the _Retina_ by the stroke? And when a Coal of Fire
+moved nimbly in the circumference of a Circle, makes the whole
+circumference appear like a Circle of Fire; is it not because the
+Motions excited in the bottom of the Eye by the Rays of Light are of a
+lasting nature, and continue till the Coal of Fire in going round
+returns to its former place? And considering the lastingness of the
+Motions excited in the bottom of the Eye by Light, are they not of a
+vibrating nature?
+
+_Qu._ 17. If a stone be thrown into stagnating Water, the Waves excited
+thereby continue some time to arise in the place where the Stone fell
+into the Water, and are propagated from thence in concentrick Circles
+upon the Surface of the Water to great distances. And the Vibrations or
+Tremors excited in the Air by percussion, continue a little time to move
+from the place of percussion in concentrick Spheres to great distances.
+And in like manner, when a Ray of Light falls upon the Surface of any
+pellucid Body, and is there refracted or reflected, may not Waves of
+Vibrations, or Tremors, be thereby excited in the refracting or
+reflecting Medium at the point of Incidence, and continue to arise
+there, and to be propagated from thence as long as they continue to
+arise and be propagated, when they are excited in the bottom of the Eye
+by the Pressure or Motion of the Finger, or by the Light which comes
+from the Coal of Fire in the Experiments above-mention'd? and are not
+these Vibrations propagated from the point of Incidence to great
+distances? And do they not overtake the Rays of Light, and by overtaking
+them successively, do they not put them into the Fits of easy Reflexion
+and easy Transmission described above? For if the Rays endeavour to
+recede from the densest part of the Vibration, they may be alternately
+accelerated and retarded by the Vibrations overtaking them.
+
+_Qu._ 18. If in two large tall cylindrical Vessels of Glass inverted,
+two little Thermometers be suspended so as not to touch the Vessels, and
+the Air be drawn out of one of these Vessels, and these Vessels thus
+prepared be carried out of a cold place into a warm one; the Thermometer
+_in vacuo_ will grow warm as much, and almost as soon as the Thermometer
+which is not _in vacuo_. And when the Vessels are carried back into the
+cold place, the Thermometer _in vacuo_ will grow cold almost as soon as
+the other Thermometer. Is not the Heat of the warm Room convey'd through
+the _Vacuum_ by the Vibrations of a much subtiler Medium than Air, which
+after the Air was drawn out remained in the _Vacuum_? And is not this
+Medium the same with that Medium by which Light is refracted and
+reflected, and by whose Vibrations Light communicates Heat to Bodies,
+and is put into Fits of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission? And do not
+the Vibrations of this Medium in hot Bodies contribute to the
+intenseness and duration of their Heat? And do not hot Bodies
+communicate their Heat to contiguous cold ones, by the Vibrations of
+this Medium propagated from them into the cold ones? And is not this
+Medium exceedingly more rare and subtile than the Air, and exceedingly
+more elastick and active? And doth it not readily pervade all Bodies?
+And is it not (by its elastick force) expanded through all the Heavens?
+
+_Qu._ 19. Doth not the Refraction of Light proceed from the different
+density of this Æthereal Medium in different places, the Light receding
+always from the denser parts of the Medium? And is not the density
+thereof greater in free and open Spaces void of Air and other grosser
+Bodies, than within the Pores of Water, Glass, Crystal, Gems, and other
+compact Bodies? For when Light passes through Glass or Crystal, and
+falling very obliquely upon the farther Surface thereof is totally
+reflected, the total Reflexion ought to proceed rather from the density
+and vigour of the Medium without and beyond the Glass, than from the
+rarity and weakness thereof.
+
+_Qu._ 20. Doth not this Æthereal Medium in passing out of Water, Glass,
+Crystal, and other compact and dense Bodies into empty Spaces, grow
+denser and denser by degrees, and by that means refract the Rays of
+Light not in a point, but by bending them gradually in curve Lines? And
+doth not the gradual condensation of this Medium extend to some distance
+from the Bodies, and thereby cause the Inflexions of the Rays of Light,
+which pass by the edges of dense Bodies, at some distance from the
+Bodies?
+
+_Qu._ 21. Is not this Medium much rarer within the dense Bodies of the
+Sun, Stars, Planets and Comets, than in the empty celestial Spaces
+between them? And in passing from them to great distances, doth it not
+grow denser and denser perpetually, and thereby cause the gravity of
+those great Bodies towards one another, and of their parts towards the
+Bodies; every Body endeavouring to go from the denser parts of the
+Medium towards the rarer? For if this Medium be rarer within the Sun's
+Body than at its Surface, and rarer there than at the hundredth part of
+an Inch from its Body, and rarer there than at the fiftieth part of an
+Inch from its Body, and rarer there than at the Orb of _Saturn_; I see
+no reason why the Increase of density should stop any where, and not
+rather be continued through all distances from the Sun to _Saturn_, and
+beyond. And though this Increase of density may at great distances be
+exceeding slow, yet if the elastick force of this Medium be exceeding
+great, it may suffice to impel Bodies from the denser parts of the
+Medium towards the rarer, with all that power which we call Gravity. And
+that the elastick force of this Medium is exceeding great, may be
+gather'd from the swiftness of its Vibrations. Sounds move about 1140
+_English_ Feet in a second Minute of Time, and in seven or eight Minutes
+of Time they move about one hundred _English_ Miles. Light moves from
+the Sun to us in about seven or eight Minutes of Time, which distance is
+about 70,000,000 _English_ Miles, supposing the horizontal Parallax of
+the Sun to be about 12´´. And the Vibrations or Pulses of this Medium,
+that they may cause the alternate Fits of easy Transmission and easy
+Reflexion, must be swifter than Light, and by consequence above 700,000
+times swifter than Sounds. And therefore the elastick force of this
+Medium, in proportion to its density, must be above 700000 x 700000
+(that is, above 490,000,000,000) times greater than the elastick force
+of the Air is in proportion to its density. For the Velocities of the
+Pulses of elastick Mediums are in a subduplicate _Ratio_ of the
+Elasticities and the Rarities of the Mediums taken together.
+
+As Attraction is stronger in small Magnets than in great ones in
+proportion to their Bulk, and Gravity is greater in the Surfaces of
+small Planets than in those of great ones in proportion to their bulk,
+and small Bodies are agitated much more by electric attraction than
+great ones; so the smallness of the Rays of Light may contribute very
+much to the power of the Agent by which they are refracted. And so if
+any one should suppose that _Æther_ (like our Air) may contain Particles
+which endeavour to recede from one another (for I do not know what this
+_Æther_ is) and that its Particles are exceedingly smaller than those of
+Air, or even than those of Light: The exceeding smallness of its
+Particles may contribute to the greatness of the force by which those
+Particles may recede from one another, and thereby make that Medium
+exceedingly more rare and elastick than Air, and by consequence
+exceedingly less able to resist the motions of Projectiles, and
+exceedingly more able to press upon gross Bodies, by endeavouring to
+expand it self.
+
+_Qu._ 22. May not Planets and Comets, and all gross Bodies, perform
+their Motions more freely, and with less resistance in this Æthereal
+Medium than in any Fluid, which fills all Space adequately without
+leaving any Pores, and by consequence is much denser than Quick-silver
+or Gold? And may not its resistance be so small, as to be
+inconsiderable? For instance; If this _Æther_ (for so I will call it)
+should be supposed 700000 times more elastick than our Air, and above
+700000 times more rare; its resistance would be above 600,000,000 times
+less than that of Water. And so small a resistance would scarce make any
+sensible alteration in the Motions of the Planets in ten thousand
+Years. If any one would ask how a Medium can be so rare, let him tell me
+how the Air, in the upper parts of the Atmosphere, can be above an
+hundred thousand thousand times rarer than Gold. Let him also tell me,
+how an electrick Body can by Friction emit an Exhalation so rare and
+subtile, and yet so potent, as by its Emission to cause no sensible
+Diminution of the weight of the electrick Body, and to be expanded
+through a Sphere, whose Diameter is above two Feet, and yet to be able
+to agitate and carry up Leaf Copper, or Leaf Gold, at the distance of
+above a Foot from the electrick Body? And how the Effluvia of a Magnet
+can be so rare and subtile, as to pass through a Plate of Glass without
+any Resistance or Diminution of their Force, and yet so potent as to
+turn a magnetick Needle beyond the Glass?
+
+_Qu._ 23. Is not Vision perform'd chiefly by the Vibrations of this
+Medium, excited in the bottom of the Eye by the Rays of Light, and
+propagated through the solid, pellucid and uniform Capillamenta of the
+optick Nerves into the place of Sensation? And is not Hearing perform'd
+by the Vibrations either of this or some other Medium, excited in the
+auditory Nerves by the Tremors of the Air, and propagated through the
+solid, pellucid and uniform Capillamenta of those Nerves into the place
+of Sensation? And so of the other Senses.
+
+_Qu._ 24. Is not Animal Motion perform'd by the Vibrations of this
+Medium, excited in the Brain by the power of the Will, and propagated
+from thence through the solid, pellucid and uniform Capillamenta of the
+Nerves into the Muscles, for contracting and dilating them? I suppose
+that the Capillamenta of the Nerves are each of them solid and uniform,
+that the vibrating Motion of the Æthereal Medium may be propagated along
+them from one end to the other uniformly, and without interruption: For
+Obstructions in the Nerves create Palsies. And that they may be
+sufficiently uniform, I suppose them to be pellucid when view'd singly,
+tho' the Reflexions in their cylindrical Surfaces may make the whole
+Nerve (composed of many Capillamenta) appear opake and white. For
+opacity arises from reflecting Surfaces, such as may disturb and
+interrupt the Motions of this Medium.
+
+[Sidenote: _See the following Scheme, p. 356._]
+
+_Qu._ 25. Are there not other original Properties of the Rays of Light,
+besides those already described? An instance of another original
+Property we have in the Refraction of Island Crystal, described first by
+_Erasmus Bartholine_, and afterwards more exactly by _Hugenius_, in his
+Book _De la Lumiere_. This Crystal is a pellucid fissile Stone, clear as
+Water or Crystal of the Rock, and without Colour; enduring a red Heat
+without losing its transparency, and in a very strong Heat calcining
+without Fusion. Steep'd a Day or two in Water, it loses its natural
+Polish. Being rubb'd on Cloth, it attracts pieces of Straws and other
+light things, like Ambar or Glass; and with _Aqua fortis_ it makes an
+Ebullition. It seems to be a sort of Talk, and is found in form of an
+oblique Parallelopiped, with six parallelogram Sides and eight solid
+Angles. The obtuse Angles of the Parallelograms are each of them 101
+Degrees and 52 Minutes; the acute ones 78 Degrees and 8 Minutes. Two of
+the solid Angles opposite to one another, as C and E, are compassed each
+of them with three of these obtuse Angles, and each of the other six
+with one obtuse and two acute ones. It cleaves easily in planes parallel
+to any of its Sides, and not in any other Planes. It cleaves with a
+glossy polite Surface not perfectly plane, but with some little
+unevenness. It is easily scratch'd, and by reason of its softness it
+takes a Polish very difficultly. It polishes better upon polish'd
+Looking-glass than upon Metal, and perhaps better upon Pitch, Leather or
+Parchment. Afterwards it must be rubb'd with a little Oil or white of an
+Egg, to fill up its Scratches; whereby it will become very transparent
+and polite. But for several Experiments, it is not necessary to polish
+it. If a piece of this crystalline Stone be laid upon a Book, every
+Letter of the Book seen through it will appear double, by means of a
+double Refraction. And if any beam of Light falls either
+perpendicularly, or in any oblique Angle upon any Surface of this
+Crystal, it becomes divided into two beams by means of the same double
+Refraction. Which beams are of the same Colour with the incident beam of
+Light, and seem equal to one another in the quantity of their Light, or
+very nearly equal. One of these Refractions is perform'd by the usual
+Rule of Opticks, the Sine of Incidence out of Air into this Crystal
+being to the Sine of Refraction, as five to three. The other
+Refraction, which may be called the unusual Refraction, is perform'd by
+the following Rule.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
+
+Let ADBC represent the refracting Surface of the Crystal, C the biggest
+solid Angle at that Surface, GEHF the opposite Surface, and CK a
+perpendicular on that Surface. This perpendicular makes with the edge of
+the Crystal CF, an Angle of 19 Degr. 3'. Join KF, and in it take KL, so
+that the Angle KCL be 6 Degr. 40'. and the Angle LCF 12 Degr. 23'. And
+if ST represent any beam of Light incident at T in any Angle upon the
+refracting Surface ADBC, let TV be the refracted beam determin'd by the
+given Portion of the Sines 5 to 3, according to the usual Rule of
+Opticks. Draw VX parallel and equal to KL. Draw it the same way from V
+in which L lieth from K; and joining TX, this line TX shall be the other
+refracted beam carried from T to X, by the unusual Refraction.
+
+If therefore the incident beam ST be perpendicular to the refracting
+Surface, the two beams TV and TX, into which it shall become divided,
+shall be parallel to the lines CK and CL; one of those beams going
+through the Crystal perpendicularly, as it ought to do by the usual Laws
+of Opticks, and the other TX by an unusual Refraction diverging from the
+perpendicular, and making with it an Angle VTX of about 6-2/3 Degrees,
+as is found by Experience. And hence, the Plane VTX, and such like
+Planes which are parallel to the Plane CFK, may be called the Planes of
+perpendicular Refraction. And the Coast towards which the lines KL and
+VX are drawn, may be call'd the Coast of unusual Refraction.
+
+In like manner Crystal of the Rock has a double Refraction: But the
+difference of the two Refractions is not so great and manifest as in
+Island Crystal.
+
+When the beam ST incident on Island Crystal is divided into two beams TV
+and TX, and these two beams arrive at the farther Surface of the Glass;
+the beam TV, which was refracted at the first Surface after the usual
+manner, shall be again refracted entirely after the usual manner at the
+second Surface; and the beam TX, which was refracted after the unusual
+manner in the first Surface, shall be again refracted entirely after the
+unusual manner in the second Surface; so that both these beams shall
+emerge out of the second Surface in lines parallel to the first incident
+beam ST.
+
+And if two pieces of Island Crystal be placed one after another, in such
+manner that all the Surfaces of the latter be parallel to all the
+corresponding Surfaces of the former: The Rays which are refracted after
+the usual manner in the first Surface of the first Crystal, shall be
+refracted after the usual manner in all the following Surfaces; and the
+Rays which are refracted after the unusual manner in the first Surface,
+shall be refracted after the unusual manner in all the following
+Surfaces. And the same thing happens, though the Surfaces of the
+Crystals be any ways inclined to one another, provided that their Planes
+of perpendicular Refraction be parallel to one another.
+
+And therefore there is an original difference in the Rays of Light, by
+means of which some Rays are in this Experiment constantly refracted
+after the usual manner, and others constantly after the unusual manner:
+For if the difference be not original, but arises from new Modifications
+impress'd on the Rays at their first Refraction, it would be alter'd by
+new Modifications in the three following Refractions; whereas it suffers
+no alteration, but is constant, and has the same effect upon the Rays in
+all the Refractions. The unusual Refraction is therefore perform'd by an
+original property of the Rays. And it remains to be enquired, whether
+the Rays have not more original Properties than are yet discover'd.
+
+_Qu._ 26. Have not the Rays of Light several sides, endued with several
+original Properties? For if the Planes of perpendicular Refraction of
+the second Crystal be at right Angles with the Planes of perpendicular
+Refraction of the first Crystal, the Rays which are refracted after the
+usual manner in passing through the first Crystal, will be all of them
+refracted after the unusual manner in passing through the second
+Crystal; and the Rays which are refracted after the unusual manner in
+passing through the first Crystal, will be all of them refracted after
+the usual manner in passing through the second Crystal. And therefore
+there are not two sorts of Rays differing in their nature from one
+another, one of which is constantly and in all Positions refracted after
+the usual manner, and the other constantly and in all Positions after
+the unusual manner. The difference between the two sorts of Rays in the
+Experiment mention'd in the 25th Question, was only in the Positions of
+the Sides of the Rays to the Planes of perpendicular Refraction. For one
+and the same Ray is here refracted sometimes after the usual, and
+sometimes after the unusual manner, according to the Position which its
+Sides have to the Crystals. If the Sides of the Ray are posited the same
+way to both Crystals, it is refracted after the same manner in them
+both: But if that side of the Ray which looks towards the Coast of the
+unusual Refraction of the first Crystal, be 90 Degrees from that side of
+the same Ray which looks toward the Coast of the unusual Refraction of
+the second Crystal, (which may be effected by varying the Position of
+the second Crystal to the first, and by consequence to the Rays of
+Light,) the Ray shall be refracted after several manners in the several
+Crystals. There is nothing more required to determine whether the Rays
+of Light which fall upon the second Crystal shall be refracted after
+the usual or after the unusual manner, but to turn about this Crystal,
+so that the Coast of this Crystal's unusual Refraction may be on this or
+on that side of the Ray. And therefore every Ray may be consider'd as
+having four Sides or Quarters, two of which opposite to one another
+incline the Ray to be refracted after the unusual manner, as often as
+either of them are turn'd towards the Coast of unusual Refraction; and
+the other two, whenever either of them are turn'd towards the Coast of
+unusual Refraction, do not incline it to be otherwise refracted than
+after the usual manner. The two first may therefore be call'd the Sides
+of unusual Refraction. And since these Dispositions were in the Rays
+before their Incidence on the second, third, and fourth Surfaces of the
+two Crystals, and suffered no alteration (so far as appears,) by the
+Refraction of the Rays in their passage through those Surfaces, and the
+Rays were refracted by the same Laws in all the four Surfaces; it
+appears that those Dispositions were in the Rays originally, and
+suffer'd no alteration by the first Refraction, and that by means of
+those Dispositions the Rays were refracted at their Incidence on the
+first Surface of the first Crystal, some of them after the usual, and
+some of them after the unusual manner, accordingly as their Sides of
+unusual Refraction were then turn'd towards the Coast of the unusual
+Refraction of that Crystal, or sideways from it.
+
+Every Ray of Light has therefore two opposite Sides, originally endued
+with a Property on which the unusual Refraction depends, and the other
+two opposite Sides not endued with that Property. And it remains to be
+enquired, whether there are not more Properties of Light by which the
+Sides of the Rays differ, and are distinguished from one another.
+
+In explaining the difference of the Sides of the Rays above mention'd, I
+have supposed that the Rays fall perpendicularly on the first Crystal.
+But if they fall obliquely on it, the Success is the same. Those Rays
+which are refracted after the usual manner in the first Crystal, will be
+refracted after the unusual manner in the second Crystal, supposing the
+Planes of perpendicular Refraction to be at right Angles with one
+another, as above; and on the contrary.
+
+If the Planes of the perpendicular Refraction of the two Crystals be
+neither parallel nor perpendicular to one another, but contain an acute
+Angle: The two beams of Light which emerge out of the first Crystal,
+will be each of them divided into two more at their Incidence on the
+second Crystal. For in this case the Rays in each of the two beams will
+some of them have their Sides of unusual Refraction, and some of them
+their other Sides turn'd towards the Coast of the unusual Refraction of
+the second Crystal.
+
+_Qu._ 27. Are not all Hypotheses erroneous which have hitherto been
+invented for explaining the Phænomena of Light, by new Modifications of
+the Rays? For those Phænomena depend not upon new Modifications, as has
+been supposed, but upon the original and unchangeable Properties of the
+Rays.
+
+_Qu._ 28. Are not all Hypotheses erroneous, in which Light is supposed
+to consist in Pression or Motion, propagated through a fluid Medium? For
+in all these Hypotheses the Phænomena of Light have been hitherto
+explain'd by supposing that they arise from new Modifications of the
+Rays; which is an erroneous Supposition.
+
+If Light consisted only in Pression propagated without actual Motion, it
+would not be able to agitate and heat the Bodies which refract and
+reflect it. If it consisted in Motion propagated to all distances in an
+instant, it would require an infinite force every moment, in every
+shining Particle, to generate that Motion. And if it consisted in
+Pression or Motion, propagated either in an instant or in time, it would
+bend into the Shadow. For Pression or Motion cannot be propagated in a
+Fluid in right Lines, beyond an Obstacle which stops part of the Motion,
+but will bend and spread every way into the quiescent Medium which lies
+beyond the Obstacle. Gravity tends downwards, but the Pressure of Water
+arising from Gravity tends every way with equal Force, and is propagated
+as readily, and with as much force sideways as downwards, and through
+crooked passages as through strait ones. The Waves on the Surface of
+stagnating Water, passing by the sides of a broad Obstacle which stops
+part of them, bend afterwards and dilate themselves gradually into the
+quiet Water behind the Obstacle. The Waves, Pulses or Vibrations of the
+Air, wherein Sounds consist, bend manifestly, though not so much as the
+Waves of Water. For a Bell or a Cannon may be heard beyond a Hill which
+intercepts the sight of the sounding Body, and Sounds are propagated as
+readily through crooked Pipes as through streight ones. But Light is
+never known to follow crooked Passages nor to bend into the Shadow. For
+the fix'd Stars by the Interposition of any of the Planets cease to be
+seen. And so do the Parts of the Sun by the Interposition of the Moon,
+_Mercury_ or _Venus_. The Rays which pass very near to the edges of any
+Body, are bent a little by the action of the Body, as we shew'd above;
+but this bending is not towards but from the Shadow, and is perform'd
+only in the passage of the Ray by the Body, and at a very small distance
+from it. So soon as the Ray is past the Body, it goes right on.
+
+[Sidenote: _Mais pour dire comment cela se fait, je n'ay rien trove
+jusqu' ici qui me satisfasse._ C. H. de la lumiere, c. 5, p. 91.]
+
+To explain the unusual Refraction of Island Crystal by Pression or
+Motion propagated, has not hitherto been attempted (to my knowledge)
+except by _Huygens_, who for that end supposed two several vibrating
+Mediums within that Crystal. But when he tried the Refractions in two
+successive pieces of that Crystal, and found them such as is mention'd
+above; he confessed himself at a loss for explaining them. For Pressions
+or Motions, propagated from a shining Body through an uniform Medium,
+must be on all sides alike; whereas by those Experiments it appears,
+that the Rays of Light have different Properties in their different
+Sides. He suspected that the Pulses of _Æther_ in passing through the
+first Crystal might receive certain new Modifications, which might
+determine them to be propagated in this or that Medium within the
+second Crystal, according to the Position of that Crystal. But what
+Modifications those might be he could not say, nor think of any thing
+satisfactory in that Point. And if he had known that the unusual
+Refraction depends not on new Modifications, but on the original and
+unchangeable Dispositions of the Rays, he would have found it as
+difficult to explain how those Dispositions which he supposed to be
+impress'd on the Rays by the first Crystal, could be in them before
+their Incidence on that Crystal, and in general, how all Rays emitted by
+shining Bodies, can have those Dispositions in them from the beginning.
+To me, at least, this seems inexplicable, if Light be nothing else than
+Pression or Motion propagated through _Æther_.
+
+And it is as difficult to explain by these Hypotheses, how Rays can be
+alternately in Fits of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission; unless
+perhaps one might suppose that there are in all Space two Æthereal
+vibrating Mediums, and that the Vibrations of one of them constitute
+Light, and the Vibrations of the other are swifter, and as often as they
+overtake the Vibrations of the first, put them into those Fits. But how
+two _Æthers_ can be diffused through all Space, one of which acts upon
+the other, and by consequence is re-acted upon, without retarding,
+shattering, dispersing and confounding one anothers Motions, is
+inconceivable. And against filling the Heavens with fluid Mediums,
+unless they be exceeding rare, a great Objection arises from the regular
+and very lasting Motions of the Planets and Comets in all manner of
+Courses through the Heavens. For thence it is manifest, that the Heavens
+are void of all sensible Resistance, and by consequence of all sensible
+Matter.
+
+For the resisting Power of fluid Mediums arises partly from the
+Attrition of the Parts of the Medium, and partly from the _Vis inertiæ_
+of the Matter. That part of the Resistance of a spherical Body which
+arises from the Attrition of the Parts of the Medium is very nearly as
+the Diameter, or, at the most, as the _Factum_ of the Diameter, and the
+Velocity of the spherical Body together. And that part of the Resistance
+which arises from the _Vis inertiæ_ of the Matter, is as the Square of
+that _Factum_. And by this difference the two sorts of Resistance may be
+distinguish'd from one another in any Medium; and these being
+distinguish'd, it will be found that almost all the Resistance of Bodies
+of a competent Magnitude moving in Air, Water, Quick-silver, and such
+like Fluids with a competent Velocity, arises from the _Vis inertiæ_ of
+the Parts of the Fluid.
+
+Now that part of the resisting Power of any Medium which arises from the
+Tenacity, Friction or Attrition of the Parts of the Medium, may be
+diminish'd by dividing the Matter into smaller Parts, and making the
+Parts more smooth and slippery: But that part of the Resistance which
+arises from the _Vis inertiæ_, is proportional to the Density of the
+Matter, and cannot be diminish'd by dividing the Matter into smaller
+Parts, nor by any other means than by decreasing the Density of the
+Medium. And for these Reasons the Density of fluid Mediums is very
+nearly proportional to their Resistance. Liquors which differ not much
+in Density, as Water, Spirit of Wine, Spirit of Turpentine, hot Oil,
+differ not much in Resistance. Water is thirteen or fourteen times
+lighter than Quick-silver and by consequence thirteen or fourteen times
+rarer, and its Resistance is less than that of Quick-silver in the same
+Proportion, or thereabouts, as I have found by Experiments made with
+Pendulums. The open Air in which we breathe is eight or nine hundred
+times lighter than Water, and by consequence eight or nine hundred times
+rarer, and accordingly its Resistance is less than that of Water in the
+same Proportion, or thereabouts; as I have also found by Experiments
+made with Pendulums. And in thinner Air the Resistance is still less,
+and at length, by ratifying the Air, becomes insensible. For small
+Feathers falling in the open Air meet with great Resistance, but in a
+tall Glass well emptied of Air, they fall as fast as Lead or Gold, as I
+have seen tried several times. Whence the Resistance seems still to
+decrease in proportion to the Density of the Fluid. For I do not find by
+any Experiments, that Bodies moving in Quick-silver, Water or Air, meet
+with any other sensible Resistance than what arises from the Density and
+Tenacity of those sensible Fluids, as they would do if the Pores of
+those Fluids, and all other Spaces, were filled with a dense and
+subtile Fluid. Now if the Resistance in a Vessel well emptied of Air,
+was but an hundred times less than in the open Air, it would be about a
+million of times less than in Quick-silver. But it seems to be much less
+in such a Vessel, and still much less in the Heavens, at the height of
+three or four hundred Miles from the Earth, or above. For Mr. _Boyle_
+has shew'd that Air may be rarified above ten thousand times in Vessels
+of Glass; and the Heavens are much emptier of Air than any _Vacuum_ we
+can make below. For since the Air is compress'd by the Weight of the
+incumbent Atmosphere, and the Density of Air is proportional to the
+Force compressing it, it follows by Computation, that at the height of
+about seven and a half _English_ Miles from the Earth, the Air is four
+times rarer than at the Surface of the Earth; and at the height of 15
+Miles it is sixteen times rarer than that at the Surface of the Earth;
+and at the height of 22-1/2, 30, or 38 Miles, it is respectively 64,
+256, or 1024 times rarer, or thereabouts; and at the height of 76, 152,
+228 Miles, it is about 1000000, 1000000000000, or 1000000000000000000
+times rarer; and so on.
+
+Heat promotes Fluidity very much by diminishing the Tenacity of Bodies.
+It makes many Bodies fluid which are not fluid in cold, and increases
+the Fluidity of tenacious Liquids, as of Oil, Balsam, and Honey, and
+thereby decreases their Resistance. But it decreases not the Resistance
+of Water considerably, as it would do if any considerable part of the
+Resistance of Water arose from the Attrition or Tenacity of its Parts.
+And therefore the Resistance of Water arises principally and almost
+entirely from the _Vis inertiæ_ of its Matter; and by consequence, if
+the Heavens were as dense as Water, they would not have much less
+Resistance than Water; if as dense as Quick-silver, they would not have
+much less Resistance than Quick-silver; if absolutely dense, or full of
+Matter without any _Vacuum_, let the Matter be never so subtil and
+fluid, they would have a greater Resistance than Quick-silver. A solid
+Globe in such a Medium would lose above half its Motion in moving three
+times the length of its Diameter, and a Globe not solid (such as are the
+Planets,) would be retarded sooner. And therefore to make way for the
+regular and lasting Motions of the Planets and Comets, it's necessary to
+empty the Heavens of all Matter, except perhaps some very thin Vapours,
+Steams, or Effluvia, arising from the Atmospheres of the Earth, Planets,
+and Comets, and from such an exceedingly rare Æthereal Medium as we
+described above. A dense Fluid can be of no use for explaining the
+Phænomena of Nature, the Motions of the Planets and Comets being better
+explain'd without it. It serves only to disturb and retard the Motions
+of those great Bodies, and make the Frame of Nature languish: And in the
+Pores of Bodies, it serves only to stop the vibrating Motions of their
+Parts, wherein their Heat and Activity consists. And as it is of no use,
+and hinders the Operations of Nature, and makes her languish, so there
+is no evidence for its Existence, and therefore it ought to be rejected.
+And if it be rejected, the Hypotheses that Light consists in Pression
+or Motion, propagated through such a Medium, are rejected with it.
+
+And for rejecting such a Medium, we have the Authority of those the
+oldest and most celebrated Philosophers of _Greece_ and _Phoenicia_,
+who made a _Vacuum_, and Atoms, and the Gravity of Atoms, the first
+Principles of their Philosophy; tacitly attributing Gravity to some
+other Cause than dense Matter. Later Philosophers banish the
+Consideration of such a Cause out of natural Philosophy, feigning
+Hypotheses for explaining all things mechanically, and referring other
+Causes to Metaphysicks: Whereas the main Business of natural Philosophy
+is to argue from Phænomena without feigning Hypotheses, and to deduce
+Causes from Effects, till we come to the very first Cause, which
+certainly is not mechanical; and not only to unfold the Mechanism of the
+World, but chiefly to resolve these and such like Questions. What is
+there in places almost empty of Matter, and whence is it that the Sun
+and Planets gravitate towards one another, without dense Matter between
+them? Whence is it that Nature doth nothing in vain; and whence arises
+all that Order and Beauty which we see in the World? To what end are
+Comets, and whence is it that Planets move all one and the same way in
+Orbs concentrick, while Comets move all manner of ways in Orbs very
+excentrick; and what hinders the fix'd Stars from falling upon one
+another? How came the Bodies of Animals to be contrived with so much
+Art, and for what ends were their several Parts? Was the Eye contrived
+without Skill in Opticks, and the Ear without Knowledge of Sounds? How
+do the Motions of the Body follow from the Will, and whence is the
+Instinct in Animals? Is not the Sensory of Animals that place to which
+the sensitive Substance is present, and into which the sensible Species
+of Things are carried through the Nerves and Brain, that there they may
+be perceived by their immediate presence to that Substance? And these
+things being rightly dispatch'd, does it not appear from Phænomena that
+there is a Being incorporeal, living, intelligent, omnipresent, who in
+infinite Space, as it were in his Sensory, sees the things themselves
+intimately, and throughly perceives them, and comprehends them wholly by
+their immediate presence to himself: Of which things the Images only
+carried through the Organs of Sense into our little Sensoriums, are
+there seen and beheld by that which in us perceives and thinks. And
+though every true Step made in this Philosophy brings us not immediately
+to the Knowledge of the first Cause, yet it brings us nearer to it, and
+on that account is to be highly valued.
+
+_Qu._ 29. Are not the Rays of Light very small Bodies emitted from
+shining Substances? For such Bodies will pass through uniform Mediums in
+right Lines without bending into the Shadow, which is the Nature of the
+Rays of Light. They will also be capable of several Properties, and be
+able to conserve their Properties unchanged in passing through several
+Mediums, which is another Condition of the Rays of Light. Pellucid
+Substances act upon the Rays of Light at a distance in refracting,
+reflecting, and inflecting them, and the Rays mutually agitate the Parts
+of those Substances at a distance for heating them; and this Action and
+Re-action at a distance very much resembles an attractive Force between
+Bodies. If Refraction be perform'd by Attraction of the Rays, the Sines
+of Incidence must be to the Sines of Refraction in a given Proportion,
+as we shew'd in our Principles of Philosophy: And this Rule is true by
+Experience. The Rays of Light in going out of Glass into a _Vacuum_, are
+bent towards the Glass; and if they fall too obliquely on the _Vacuum_,
+they are bent backwards into the Glass, and totally reflected; and this
+Reflexion cannot be ascribed to the Resistance of an absolute _Vacuum_,
+but must be caused by the Power of the Glass attracting the Rays at
+their going out of it into the _Vacuum_, and bringing them back. For if
+the farther Surface of the Glass be moisten'd with Water or clear Oil,
+or liquid and clear Honey, the Rays which would otherwise be reflected
+will go into the Water, Oil, or Honey; and therefore are not reflected
+before they arrive at the farther Surface of the Glass, and begin to go
+out of it. If they go out of it into the Water, Oil, or Honey, they go
+on, because the Attraction of the Glass is almost balanced and rendered
+ineffectual by the contrary Attraction of the Liquor. But if they go out
+of it into a _Vacuum_ which has no Attraction to balance that of the
+Glass, the Attraction of the Glass either bends and refracts them, or
+brings them back and reflects them. And this is still more evident by
+laying together two Prisms of Glass, or two Object-glasses of very long
+Telescopes, the one plane, the other a little convex, and so compressing
+them that they do not fully touch, nor are too far asunder. For the
+Light which falls upon the farther Surface of the first Glass where the
+Interval between the Glasses is not above the ten hundred thousandth
+Part of an Inch, will go through that Surface, and through the Air or
+_Vacuum_ between the Glasses, and enter into the second Glass, as was
+explain'd in the first, fourth, and eighth Observations of the first
+Part of the second Book. But, if the second Glass be taken away, the
+Light which goes out of the second Surface of the first Glass into the
+Air or _Vacuum_, will not go on forwards, but turns back into the first
+Glass, and is reflected; and therefore it is drawn back by the Power of
+the first Glass, there being nothing else to turn it back. Nothing more
+is requisite for producing all the variety of Colours, and degrees of
+Refrangibility, than that the Rays of Light be Bodies of different
+Sizes, the least of which may take violet the weakest and darkest of the
+Colours, and be more easily diverted by refracting Surfaces from the
+right Course; and the rest as they are bigger and bigger, may make the
+stronger and more lucid Colours, blue, green, yellow, and red, and be
+more and more difficultly diverted. Nothing more is requisite for
+putting the Rays of Light into Fits of easy Reflexion and easy
+Transmission, than that they be small Bodies which by their attractive
+Powers, or some other Force, stir up Vibrations in what they act upon,
+which Vibrations being swifter than the Rays, overtake them
+successively, and agitate them so as by turns to increase and decrease
+their Velocities, and thereby put them into those Fits. And lastly, the
+unusual Refraction of Island-Crystal looks very much as if it were
+perform'd by some kind of attractive virtue lodged in certain Sides both
+of the Rays, and of the Particles of the Crystal. For were it not for
+some kind of Disposition or Virtue lodged in some Sides of the Particles
+of the Crystal, and not in their other Sides, and which inclines and
+bends the Rays towards the Coast of unusual Refraction, the Rays which
+fall perpendicularly on the Crystal, would not be refracted towards that
+Coast rather than towards any other Coast, both at their Incidence and
+at their Emergence, so as to emerge perpendicularly by a contrary
+Situation of the Coast of unusual Refraction at the second Surface; the
+Crystal acting upon the Rays after they have pass'd through it, and are
+emerging into the Air; or, if you please, into a _Vacuum_. And since the
+Crystal by this Disposition or Virtue does not act upon the Rays, unless
+when one of their Sides of unusual Refraction looks towards that Coast,
+this argues a Virtue or Disposition in those Sides of the Rays, which
+answers to, and sympathizes with that Virtue or Disposition of the
+Crystal, as the Poles of two Magnets answer to one another. And as
+Magnetism may be intended and remitted, and is found only in the Magnet
+and in Iron: So this Virtue of refracting the perpendicular Rays is
+greater in Island-Crystal, less in Crystal of the Rock, and is not yet
+found in other Bodies. I do not say that this Virtue is magnetical: It
+seems to be of another kind. I only say, that whatever it be, it's
+difficult to conceive how the Rays of Light, unless they be Bodies, can
+have a permanent Virtue in two of their Sides which is not in their
+other Sides, and this without any regard to their Position to the Space
+or Medium through which they pass.
+
+What I mean in this Question by a _Vacuum_, and by the Attractions of
+the Rays of Light towards Glass or Crystal, may be understood by what
+was said in the 18th, 19th, and 20th Questions.
+
+_Quest._ 30. Are not gross Bodies and Light convertible into one
+another, and may not Bodies receive much of their Activity from the
+Particles of Light which enter their Composition? For all fix'd Bodies
+being heated emit Light so long as they continue sufficiently hot, and
+Light mutually stops in Bodies as often as its Rays strike upon their
+Parts, as we shew'd above. I know no Body less apt to shine than Water;
+and yet Water by frequent Distillations changes into fix'd Earth, as Mr.
+_Boyle_ has try'd; and then this Earth being enabled to endure a
+sufficient Heat, shines by Heat like other Bodies.
+
+The changing of Bodies into Light, and Light into Bodies, is very
+conformable to the Course of Nature, which seems delighted with
+Transmutations. Water, which is a very fluid tasteless Salt, she changes
+by Heat into Vapour, which is a sort of Air, and by Cold into Ice, which
+is a hard, pellucid, brittle, fusible Stone; and this Stone returns into
+Water by Heat, and Vapour returns into Water by Cold. Earth by Heat
+becomes Fire, and by Cold returns into Earth. Dense Bodies by
+Fermentation rarify into several sorts of Air, and this Air by
+Fermentation, and sometimes without it, returns into dense Bodies.
+Mercury appears sometimes in the form of a fluid Metal, sometimes in the
+form of a hard brittle Metal, sometimes in the form of a corrosive
+pellucid Salt call'd Sublimate, sometimes in the form of a tasteless,
+pellucid, volatile white Earth, call'd _Mercurius Dulcis_; or in that of
+a red opake volatile Earth, call'd Cinnaber; or in that of a red or
+white Precipitate, or in that of a fluid Salt; and in Distillation it
+turns into Vapour, and being agitated _in Vacuo_, it shines like Fire.
+And after all these Changes it returns again into its first form of
+Mercury. Eggs grow from insensible Magnitudes, and change into Animals;
+Tadpoles into Frogs; and Worms into Flies. All Birds, Beasts and Fishes,
+Insects, Trees, and other Vegetables, with their several Parts, grow out
+of Water and watry Tinctures and Salts, and by Putrefaction return again
+into watry Substances. And Water standing a few Days in the open Air,
+yields a Tincture, which (like that of Malt) by standing longer yields a
+Sediment and a Spirit, but before Putrefaction is fit Nourishment for
+Animals and Vegetables. And among such various and strange
+Transmutations, why may not Nature change Bodies into Light, and Light
+into Bodies?
+
+_Quest._ 31. Have not the small Particles of Bodies certain Powers,
+Virtues, or Forces, by which they act at a distance, not only upon the
+Rays of Light for reflecting, refracting, and inflecting them, but also
+upon one another for producing a great Part of the Phænomena of Nature?
+For it's well known, that Bodies act one upon another by the Attractions
+of Gravity, Magnetism, and Electricity; and these Instances shew the
+Tenor and Course of Nature, and make it not improbable but that there
+may be more attractive Powers than these. For Nature is very consonant
+and conformable to her self. How these Attractions may be perform'd, I
+do not here consider. What I call Attraction may be perform'd by
+impulse, or by some other means unknown to me. I use that Word here to
+signify only in general any Force by which Bodies tend towards one
+another, whatsoever be the Cause. For we must learn from the Phænomena
+of Nature what Bodies attract one another, and what are the Laws and
+Properties of the Attraction, before we enquire the Cause by which the
+Attraction is perform'd. The Attractions of Gravity, Magnetism, and
+Electricity, reach to very sensible distances, and so have been observed
+by vulgar Eyes, and there may be others which reach to so small
+distances as hitherto escape Observation; and perhaps electrical
+Attraction may reach to such small distances, even without being excited
+by Friction.
+
+For when Salt of Tartar runs _per Deliquium_, is not this done by an
+Attraction between the Particles of the Salt of Tartar, and the
+Particles of the Water which float in the Air in the form of Vapours?
+And why does not common Salt, or Salt-petre, or Vitriol, run _per
+Deliquium_, but for want of such an Attraction? Or why does not Salt of
+Tartar draw more Water out of the Air than in a certain Proportion to
+its quantity, but for want of an attractive Force after it is satiated
+with Water? And whence is it but from this attractive Power that Water
+which alone distils with a gentle luke-warm Heat, will not distil from
+Salt of Tartar without a great Heat? And is it not from the like
+attractive Power between the Particles of Oil of Vitriol and the
+Particles of Water, that Oil of Vitriol draws to it a good quantity of
+Water out of the Air, and after it is satiated draws no more, and in
+Distillation lets go the Water very difficultly? And when Water and Oil
+of Vitriol poured successively into the same Vessel grow very hot in the
+mixing, does not this Heat argue a great Motion in the Parts of the
+Liquors? And does not this Motion argue, that the Parts of the two
+Liquors in mixing coalesce with Violence, and by consequence rush
+towards one another with an accelerated Motion? And when _Aqua fortis_,
+or Spirit of Vitriol poured upon Filings of Iron dissolves the Filings
+with a great Heat and Ebullition, is not this Heat and Ebullition
+effected by a violent Motion of the Parts, and does not that Motion
+argue that the acid Parts of the Liquor rush towards the Parts of the
+Metal with violence, and run forcibly into its Pores till they get
+between its outmost Particles, and the main Mass of the Metal, and
+surrounding those Particles loosen them from the main Mass, and set them
+at liberty to float off into the Water? And when the acid Particles,
+which alone would distil with an easy Heat, will not separate from the
+Particles of the Metal without a very violent Heat, does not this
+confirm the Attraction between them?
+
+When Spirit of Vitriol poured upon common Salt or Salt-petre makes an
+Ebullition with the Salt, and unites with it, and in Distillation the
+Spirit of the common Salt or Salt-petre comes over much easier than it
+would do before, and the acid part of the Spirit of Vitriol stays
+behind; does not this argue that the fix'd Alcaly of the Salt attracts
+the acid Spirit of the Vitriol more strongly than its own Spirit, and
+not being able to hold them both, lets go its own? And when Oil of
+Vitriol is drawn off from its weight of Nitre, and from both the
+Ingredients a compound Spirit of Nitre is distilled, and two parts of
+this Spirit are poured on one part of Oil of Cloves or Carraway Seeds,
+or of any ponderous Oil of vegetable or animal Substances, or Oil of
+Turpentine thicken'd with a little Balsam of Sulphur, and the Liquors
+grow so very hot in mixing, as presently to send up a burning Flame;
+does not this very great and sudden Heat argue that the two Liquors mix
+with violence, and that their Parts in mixing run towards one another
+with an accelerated Motion, and clash with the greatest Force? And is it
+not for the same reason that well rectified Spirit of Wine poured on the
+same compound Spirit flashes; and that the _Pulvis fulminans_, composed
+of Sulphur, Nitre, and Salt of Tartar, goes off with a more sudden and
+violent Explosion than Gun-powder, the acid Spirits of the Sulphur and
+Nitre rushing towards one another, and towards the Salt of Tartar, with
+so great a violence, as by the shock to turn the whole at once into
+Vapour and Flame? Where the Dissolution is slow, it makes a slow
+Ebullition and a gentle Heat; and where it is quicker, it makes a
+greater Ebullition with more heat; and where it is done at once, the
+Ebullition is contracted into a sudden Blast or violent Explosion, with
+a heat equal to that of Fire and Flame. So when a Drachm of the
+above-mention'd compound Spirit of Nitre was poured upon half a Drachm
+of Oil of Carraway Seeds _in vacuo_, the Mixture immediately made a
+flash like Gun-powder, and burst the exhausted Receiver, which was a
+Glass six Inches wide, and eight Inches deep. And even the gross Body of
+Sulphur powder'd, and with an equal weight of Iron Filings and a little
+Water made into Paste, acts upon the Iron, and in five or six hours
+grows too hot to be touch'd, and emits a Flame. And by these Experiments
+compared with the great quantity of Sulphur with which the Earth
+abounds, and the warmth of the interior Parts of the Earth, and hot
+Springs, and burning Mountains, and with Damps, mineral Coruscations,
+Earthquakes, hot suffocating Exhalations, Hurricanes, and Spouts; we may
+learn that sulphureous Steams abound in the Bowels of the Earth and
+ferment with Minerals, and sometimes take fire with a sudden Coruscation
+and Explosion; and if pent up in subterraneous Caverns, burst the
+Caverns with a great shaking of the Earth, as in springing of a Mine.
+And then the Vapour generated by the Explosion, expiring through the
+Pores of the Earth, feels hot and suffocates, and makes Tempests and
+Hurricanes, and sometimes causes the Land to slide, or the Sea to boil,
+and carries up the Water thereof in Drops, which by their weight fall
+down again in Spouts. Also some sulphureous Steams, at all times when
+the Earth is dry, ascending into the Air, ferment there with nitrous
+Acids, and sometimes taking fire cause Lightning and Thunder, and fiery
+Meteors. For the Air abounds with acid Vapours fit to promote
+Fermentations, as appears by the rusting of Iron and Copper in it, the
+kindling of Fire by blowing, and the beating of the Heart by means of
+Respiration. Now the above-mention'd Motions are so great and violent as
+to shew that in Fermentations the Particles of Bodies which almost rest,
+are put into new Motions by a very potent Principle, which acts upon
+them only when they approach one another, and causes them to meet and
+clash with great violence, and grow hot with the motion, and dash one
+another into pieces, and vanish into Air, and Vapour, and Flame.
+
+When Salt of Tartar _per deliquium_, being poured into the Solution of
+any Metal, precipitates the Metal and makes it fall down to the bottom
+of the Liquor in the form of Mud: Does not this argue that the acid
+Particles are attracted more strongly by the Salt of Tartar than by the
+Metal, and by the stronger Attraction go from the Metal to the Salt of
+Tartar? And so when a Solution of Iron in _Aqua fortis_ dissolves the
+_Lapis Calaminaris_, and lets go the Iron, or a Solution of Copper
+dissolves Iron immersed in it and lets go the Copper, or a Solution of
+Silver dissolves Copper and lets go the Silver, or a Solution of Mercury
+in _Aqua fortis_ being poured upon Iron, Copper, Tin, or Lead, dissolves
+the Metal and lets go the Mercury; does not this argue that the acid
+Particles of the _Aqua fortis_ are attracted more strongly by the _Lapis
+Calaminaris_ than by Iron, and more strongly by Iron than by Copper, and
+more strongly by Copper than by Silver, and more strongly by Iron,
+Copper, Tin, and Lead, than by Mercury? And is it not for the same
+reason that Iron requires more _Aqua fortis_ to dissolve it than Copper,
+and Copper more than the other Metals; and that of all Metals, Iron is
+dissolved most easily, and is most apt to rust; and next after Iron,
+Copper?
+
+When Oil of Vitriol is mix'd with a little Water, or is run _per
+deliquium_, and in Distillation the Water ascends difficultly, and
+brings over with it some part of the Oil of Vitriol in the form of
+Spirit of Vitriol, and this Spirit being poured upon Iron, Copper, or
+Salt of Tartar, unites with the Body and lets go the Water; doth not
+this shew that the acid Spirit is attracted by the Water, and more
+attracted by the fix'd Body than by the Water, and therefore lets go the
+Water to close with the fix'd Body? And is it not for the same reason
+that the Water and acid Spirits which are mix'd together in Vinegar,
+_Aqua fortis_, and Spirit of Salt, cohere and rise together in
+Distillation; but if the _Menstruum_ be poured on Salt of Tartar, or on
+Lead, or Iron, or any fix'd Body which it can dissolve, the Acid by a
+stronger Attraction adheres to the Body, and lets go the Water? And is
+it not also from a mutual Attraction that the Spirits of Soot and
+Sea-Salt unite and compose the Particles of Sal-armoniac, which are less
+volatile than before, because grosser and freer from Water; and that the
+Particles of Sal-armoniac in Sublimation carry up the Particles of
+Antimony, which will not sublime alone; and that the Particles of
+Mercury uniting with the acid Particles of Spirit of Salt compose
+Mercury sublimate, and with the Particles of Sulphur, compose Cinnaber;
+and that the Particles of Spirit of Wine and Spirit of Urine well
+rectified unite, and letting go the Water which dissolved them, compose
+a consistent Body; and that in subliming Cinnaber from Salt of Tartar,
+or from quick Lime, the Sulphur by a stronger Attraction of the Salt or
+Lime lets go the Mercury, and stays with the fix'd Body; and that when
+Mercury sublimate is sublimed from Antimony, or from Regulus of
+Antimony, the Spirit of Salt lets go the Mercury, and unites with the
+antimonial metal which attracts it more strongly, and stays with it till
+the Heat be great enough to make them both ascend together, and then
+carries up the Metal with it in the form of a very fusible Salt, called
+Butter of Antimony, although the Spirit of Salt alone be almost as
+volatile as Water, and the Antimony alone as fix'd as Lead?
+
+When _Aqua fortis_ dissolves Silver and not Gold, and _Aqua regia_
+dissolves Gold and not Silver, may it not be said that _Aqua fortis_ is
+subtil enough to penetrate Gold as well as Silver, but wants the
+attractive Force to give it Entrance; and that _Aqua regia_ is subtil
+enough to penetrate Silver as well as Gold, but wants the attractive
+Force to give it Entrance? For _Aqua regia_ is nothing else than _Aqua
+fortis_ mix'd with some Spirit of Salt, or with Sal-armoniac; and even
+common Salt dissolved in _Aqua fortis_, enables the _Menstruum_ to
+dissolve Gold, though the Salt be a gross Body. When therefore Spirit of
+Salt precipitates Silver out of _Aqua fortis_, is it not done by
+attracting and mixing with the _Aqua fortis_, and not attracting, or
+perhaps repelling Silver? And when Water precipitates Antimony out of
+the Sublimate of Antimony and Sal-armoniac, or out of Butter of
+Antimony, is it not done by its dissolving, mixing with, and weakening
+the Sal-armoniac or Spirit of Salt, and its not attracting, or perhaps
+repelling the Antimony? And is it not for want of an attractive virtue
+between the Parts of Water and Oil, of Quick-silver and Antimony, of
+Lead and Iron, that these Substances do not mix; and by a weak
+Attraction, that Quick-silver and Copper mix difficultly; and from a
+strong one, that Quick-silver and Tin, Antimony and Iron, Water and
+Salts, mix readily? And in general, is it not from the same Principle
+that Heat congregates homogeneal Bodies, and separates heterogeneal
+ones?
+
+When Arsenick with Soap gives a Regulus, and with Mercury sublimate a
+volatile fusible Salt, like Butter of Antimony, doth not this shew that
+Arsenick, which is a Substance totally volatile, is compounded of fix'd
+and volatile Parts, strongly cohering by a mutual Attraction, so that
+the volatile will not ascend without carrying up the fixed? And so, when
+an equal weight of Spirit of Wine and Oil of Vitriol are digested
+together, and in Distillation yield two fragrant and volatile Spirits
+which will not mix with one another, and a fix'd black Earth remains
+behind; doth not this shew that Oil of Vitriol is composed of volatile
+and fix'd Parts strongly united by Attraction, so as to ascend together
+in form of a volatile, acid, fluid Salt, until the Spirit of Wine
+attracts and separates the volatile Parts from the fixed? And therefore,
+since Oil of Sulphur _per Campanam_ is of the same Nature with Oil of
+Vitriol, may it not be inferred, that Sulphur is also a mixture of
+volatile and fix'd Parts so strongly cohering by Attraction, as to
+ascend together in Sublimation. By dissolving Flowers of Sulphur in Oil
+of Turpentine, and distilling the Solution, it is found that Sulphur is
+composed of an inflamable thick Oil or fat Bitumen, an acid Salt, a very
+fix'd Earth, and a little Metal. The three first were found not much
+unequal to one another, the fourth in so small a quantity as scarce to
+be worth considering. The acid Salt dissolved in Water, is the same with
+Oil of Sulphur _per Campanam_, and abounding much in the Bowels of the
+Earth, and particularly in Markasites, unites it self to the other
+Ingredients of the Markasite, which are, Bitumen, Iron, Copper, and
+Earth, and with them compounds Allum, Vitriol, and Sulphur. With the
+Earth alone it compounds Allum; with the Metal alone, or Metal and
+Earth together, it compounds Vitriol; and with the Bitumen and Earth it
+compounds Sulphur. Whence it comes to pass that Markasites abound with
+those three Minerals. And is it not from the mutual Attraction of the
+Ingredients that they stick together for compounding these Minerals, and
+that the Bitumen carries up the other Ingredients of the Sulphur, which
+without it would not sublime? And the same Question may be put
+concerning all, or almost all the gross Bodies in Nature. For all the
+Parts of Animals and Vegetables are composed of Substances volatile and
+fix'd, fluid and solid, as appears by their Analysis; and so are Salts
+and Minerals, so far as Chymists have been hitherto able to examine
+their Composition.
+
+When Mercury sublimate is re-sublimed with fresh Mercury, and becomes
+_Mercurius Dulcis_, which is a white tasteless Earth scarce dissolvable
+in Water, and _Mercurius Dulcis_ re-sublimed with Spirit of Salt returns
+into Mercury sublimate; and when Metals corroded with a little acid turn
+into rust, which is an Earth tasteless and indissolvable in Water, and
+this Earth imbibed with more acid becomes a metallick Salt; and when
+some Stones, as Spar of Lead, dissolved in proper _Menstruums_ become
+Salts; do not these things shew that Salts are dry Earth and watry Acid
+united by Attraction, and that the Earth will not become a Salt without
+so much acid as makes it dissolvable in Water? Do not the sharp and
+pungent Tastes of Acids arise from the strong Attraction whereby the
+acid Particles rush upon and agitate the Particles of the Tongue? And
+when Metals are dissolved in acid _Menstruums_, and the Acids in
+conjunction with the Metal act after a different manner, so that the
+Compound has a different Taste much milder than before, and sometimes a
+sweet one; is it not because the Acids adhere to the metallick
+Particles, and thereby lose much of their Activity? And if the Acid be
+in too small a Proportion to make the Compound dissolvable in Water,
+will it not by adhering strongly to the Metal become unactive and lose
+its Taste, and the Compound be a tasteless Earth? For such things as are
+not dissolvable by the Moisture of the Tongue, act not upon the Taste.
+
+As Gravity makes the Sea flow round the denser and weightier Parts of
+the Globe of the Earth, so the Attraction may make the watry Acid flow
+round the denser and compacter Particles of Earth for composing the
+Particles of Salt. For otherwise the Acid would not do the Office of a
+Medium between the Earth and common Water, for making Salts dissolvable
+in the Water; nor would Salt of Tartar readily draw off the Acid from
+dissolved Metals, nor Metals the Acid from Mercury. Now, as in the great
+Globe of the Earth and Sea, the densest Bodies by their Gravity sink
+down in Water, and always endeavour to go towards the Center of the
+Globe; so in Particles of Salt, the densest Matter may always endeavour
+to approach the Center of the Particle: So that a Particle of Salt may
+be compared to a Chaos; being dense, hard, dry, and earthy in the
+Center; and rare, soft, moist, and watry in the Circumference. And
+hence it seems to be that Salts are of a lasting Nature, being scarce
+destroy'd, unless by drawing away their watry Parts by violence, or by
+letting them soak into the Pores of the central Earth by a gentle Heat
+in Putrefaction, until the Earth be dissolved by the Water, and
+separated into smaller Particles, which by reason of their Smallness
+make the rotten Compound appear of a black Colour. Hence also it may be,
+that the Parts of Animals and Vegetables preserve their several Forms,
+and assimilate their Nourishment; the soft and moist Nourishment easily
+changing its Texture by a gentle Heat and Motion, till it becomes like
+the dense, hard, dry, and durable Earth in the Center of each Particle.
+But when the Nourishment grows unfit to be assimilated, or the central
+Earth grows too feeble to assimilate it, the Motion ends in Confusion,
+Putrefaction, and Death.
+
+If a very small quantity of any Salt or Vitriol be dissolved in a great
+quantity of Water, the Particles of the Salt or Vitriol will not sink to
+the bottom, though they be heavier in Specie than the Water, but will
+evenly diffuse themselves into all the Water, so as to make it as saline
+at the top as at the bottom. And does not this imply that the Parts of
+the Salt or Vitriol recede from one another, and endeavour to expand
+themselves, and get as far asunder as the quantity of Water in which
+they float, will allow? And does not this Endeavour imply that they have
+a repulsive Force by which they fly from one another, or at least, that
+they attract the Water more strongly than they do one another? For as
+all things ascend in Water which are less attracted than Water, by the
+gravitating Power of the Earth; so all the Particles of Salt which float
+in Water, and are less attracted than Water by any one Particle of Salt,
+must recede from that Particle, and give way to the more attracted
+Water.
+
+When any saline Liquor is evaporated to a Cuticle and let cool, the Salt
+concretes in regular Figures; which argues, that the Particles of the
+Salt before they concreted, floated in the Liquor at equal distances in
+rank and file, and by consequence that they acted upon one another by
+some Power which at equal distances is equal, at unequal distances
+unequal. For by such a Power they will range themselves uniformly, and
+without it they will float irregularly, and come together as
+irregularly. And since the Particles of Island-Crystal act all the same
+way upon the Rays of Light for causing the unusual Refraction, may it
+not be supposed that in the Formation of this Crystal, the Particles not
+only ranged themselves in rank and file for concreting in regular
+Figures, but also by some kind of polar Virtue turned their homogeneal
+Sides the same way.
+
+The Parts of all homogeneal hard Bodies which fully touch one another,
+stick together very strongly. And for explaining how this may be, some
+have invented hooked Atoms, which is begging the Question; and others
+tell us that Bodies are glued together by rest, that is, by an occult
+Quality, or rather by nothing; and others, that they stick together by
+conspiring Motions, that is, by relative rest amongst themselves. I had
+rather infer from their Cohesion, that their Particles attract one
+another by some Force, which in immediate Contact is exceeding strong,
+at small distances performs the chymical Operations above-mention'd, and
+reaches not far from the Particles with any sensible Effect.
+
+All Bodies seem to be composed of hard Particles: For otherwise Fluids
+would not congeal; as Water, Oils, Vinegar, and Spirit or Oil of Vitriol
+do by freezing; Mercury by Fumes of Lead; Spirit of Nitre and Mercury,
+by dissolving the Mercury and evaporating the Flegm; Spirit of Wine and
+Spirit of Urine, by deflegming and mixing them; and Spirit of Urine and
+Spirit of Salt, by subliming them together to make Sal-armoniac. Even
+the Rays of Light seem to be hard Bodies; for otherwise they would not
+retain different Properties in their different Sides. And therefore
+Hardness may be reckon'd the Property of all uncompounded Matter. At
+least, this seems to be as evident as the universal Impenetrability of
+Matter. For all Bodies, so far as Experience reaches, are either hard,
+or may be harden'd; and we have no other Evidence of universal
+Impenetrability, besides a large Experience without an experimental
+Exception. Now if compound Bodies are so very hard as we find some of
+them to be, and yet are very porous, and consist of Parts which are only
+laid together; the simple Particles which are void of Pores, and were
+never yet divided, must be much harder. For such hard Particles being
+heaped up together, can scarce touch one another in more than a few
+Points, and therefore must be separable by much less Force than is
+requisite to break a solid Particle, whose Parts touch in all the Space
+between them, without any Pores or Interstices to weaken their Cohesion.
+And how such very hard Particles which are only laid together and touch
+only in a few Points, can stick together, and that so firmly as they do,
+without the assistance of something which causes them to be attracted or
+press'd towards one another, is very difficult to conceive.
+
+The same thing I infer also from the cohering of two polish'd Marbles
+_in vacuo_, and from the standing of Quick-silver in the Barometer at
+the height of 50, 60 or 70 Inches, or above, when ever it is well-purged
+of Air and carefully poured in, so that its Parts be every where
+contiguous both to one another and to the Glass. The Atmosphere by its
+weight presses the Quick-silver into the Glass, to the height of 29 or
+30 Inches. And some other Agent raises it higher, not by pressing it
+into the Glass, but by making its Parts stick to the Glass, and to one
+another. For upon any discontinuation of Parts, made either by Bubbles
+or by shaking the Glass, the whole Mercury falls down to the height of
+29 or 30 Inches.
+
+And of the same kind with these Experiments are those that follow. If
+two plane polish'd Plates of Glass (suppose two pieces of a polish'd
+Looking-glass) be laid together, so that their sides be parallel and at
+a very small distance from one another, and then their lower edges be
+dipped into Water, the Water will rise up between them. And the less
+the distance of the Glasses is, the greater will be the height to which
+the Water will rise. If the distance be about the hundredth part of an
+Inch, the Water will rise to the height of about an Inch; and if the
+distance be greater or less in any Proportion, the height will be
+reciprocally proportional to the distance very nearly. For the
+attractive Force of the Glasses is the same, whether the distance
+between them be greater or less; and the weight of the Water drawn up is
+the same, if the height of it be reciprocally proportional to the
+distance of the Glasses. And in like manner, Water ascends between two
+Marbles polish'd plane, when their polish'd sides are parallel, and at a
+very little distance from one another, And if slender Pipes of Glass be
+dipped at one end into stagnating Water, the Water will rise up within
+the Pipe, and the height to which it rises will be reciprocally
+proportional to the Diameter of the Cavity of the Pipe, and will equal
+the height to which it rises between two Planes of Glass, if the
+Semi-diameter of the Cavity of the Pipe be equal to the distance between
+the Planes, or thereabouts. And these Experiments succeed after the same
+manner _in vacuo_ as in the open Air, (as hath been tried before the
+Royal Society,) and therefore are not influenced by the Weight or
+Pressure of the Atmosphere.
+
+And if a large Pipe of Glass be filled with sifted Ashes well pressed
+together in the Glass, and one end of the Pipe be dipped into stagnating
+Water, the Water will rise up slowly in the Ashes, so as in the space
+of a Week or Fortnight to reach up within the Glass, to the height of 30
+or 40 Inches above the stagnating Water. And the Water rises up to this
+height by the Action only of those Particles of the Ashes which are upon
+the Surface of the elevated Water; the Particles which are within the
+Water, attracting or repelling it as much downwards as upwards. And
+therefore the Action of the Particles is very strong. But the Particles
+of the Ashes being not so dense and close together as those of Glass,
+their Action is not so strong as that of Glass, which keeps Quick-silver
+suspended to the height of 60 or 70 Inches, and therefore acts with a
+Force which would keep Water suspended to the height of above 60 Feet.
+
+By the same Principle, a Sponge sucks in Water, and the Glands in the
+Bodies of Animals, according to their several Natures and Dispositions,
+suck in various Juices from the Blood.
+
+If two plane polish'd Plates of Glass three or four Inches broad, and
+twenty or twenty five long, be laid one of them parallel to the Horizon,
+the other upon the first, so as at one of their ends to touch one
+another, and contain an Angle of about 10 or 15 Minutes, and the same be
+first moisten'd on their inward sides with a clean Cloth dipp'd into Oil
+of Oranges or Spirit of Turpentine, and a Drop or two of the Oil or
+Spirit be let fall upon the lower Glass at the other; so soon as the
+upper Glass is laid down upon the lower, so as to touch it at one end as
+above, and to touch the Drop at the other end, making with the lower
+Glass an Angle of about 10 or 15 Minutes; the Drop will begin to move
+towards the Concourse of the Glasses, and will continue to move with an
+accelerated Motion, till it arrives at that Concourse of the Glasses.
+For the two Glasses attract the Drop, and make it run that way towards
+which the Attractions incline. And if when the Drop is in motion you
+lift up that end of the Glasses where they meet, and towards which the
+Drop moves, the Drop will ascend between the Glasses, and therefore is
+attracted. And as you lift up the Glasses more and more, the Drop will
+ascend slower and slower, and at length rest, being then carried
+downward by its Weight, as much as upwards by the Attraction. And by
+this means you may know the Force by which the Drop is attracted at all
+distances from the Concourse of the Glasses.
+
+Now by some Experiments of this kind, (made by Mr. _Hauksbee_) it has
+been found that the Attraction is almost reciprocally in a duplicate
+Proportion of the distance of the middle of the Drop from the Concourse
+of the Glasses, _viz._ reciprocally in a simple Proportion, by reason of
+the spreading of the Drop, and its touching each Glass in a larger
+Surface; and again reciprocally in a simple Proportion, by reason of the
+Attractions growing stronger within the same quantity of attracting
+Surface. The Attraction therefore within the same quantity of attracting
+Surface, is reciprocally as the distance between the Glasses. And
+therefore where the distance is exceeding small, the Attraction must be
+exceeding great. By the Table in the second Part of the second Book,
+wherein the thicknesses of colour'd Plates of Water between two Glasses
+are set down, the thickness of the Plate where it appears very black, is
+three eighths of the ten hundred thousandth part of an Inch. And where
+the Oil of Oranges between the Glasses is of this thickness, the
+Attraction collected by the foregoing Rule, seems to be so strong, as
+within a Circle of an Inch in diameter, to suffice to hold up a Weight
+equal to that of a Cylinder of Water of an Inch in diameter, and two or
+three Furlongs in length. And where it is of a less thickness the
+Attraction may be proportionally greater, and continue to increase,
+until the thickness do not exceed that of a single Particle of the Oil.
+There are therefore Agents in Nature able to make the Particles of
+Bodies stick together by very strong Attractions. And it is the Business
+of experimental Philosophy to find them out.
+
+Now the smallest Particles of Matter may cohere by the strongest
+Attractions, and compose bigger Particles of weaker Virtue; and many of
+these may cohere and compose bigger Particles whose Virtue is still
+weaker, and so on for divers Successions, until the Progression end in
+the biggest Particles on which the Operations in Chymistry, and the
+Colours of natural Bodies depend, and which by cohering compose Bodies
+of a sensible Magnitude. If the Body is compact, and bends or yields
+inward to Pression without any sliding of its Parts, it is hard and
+elastick, returning to its Figure with a Force rising from the mutual
+Attraction of its Parts. If the Parts slide upon one another, the Body
+is malleable or soft. If they slip easily, and are of a fit Size to be
+agitated by Heat, and the Heat is big enough to keep them in Agitation,
+the Body is fluid; and if it be apt to stick to things, it is humid; and
+the Drops of every fluid affect a round Figure by the mutual Attraction
+of their Parts, as the Globe of the Earth and Sea affects a round Figure
+by the mutual Attraction of its Parts by Gravity.
+
+Since Metals dissolved in Acids attract but a small quantity of the
+Acid, their attractive Force can reach but to a small distance from
+them. And as in Algebra, where affirmative Quantities vanish and cease,
+there negative ones begin; so in Mechanicks, where Attraction ceases,
+there a repulsive Virtue ought to succeed. And that there is such a
+Virtue, seems to follow from the Reflexions and Inflexions of the Rays
+of Light. For the Rays are repelled by Bodies in both these Cases,
+without the immediate Contact of the reflecting or inflecting Body. It
+seems also to follow from the Emission of Light; the Ray so soon as it
+is shaken off from a shining Body by the vibrating Motion of the Parts
+of the Body, and gets beyond the reach of Attraction, being driven away
+with exceeding great Velocity. For that Force which is sufficient to
+turn it back in Reflexion, may be sufficient to emit it. It seems also
+to follow from the Production of Air and Vapour. The Particles when they
+are shaken off from Bodies by Heat or Fermentation, so soon as they are
+beyond the reach of the Attraction of the Body, receding from it, and
+also from one another with great Strength, and keeping at a distance,
+so as sometimes to take up above a Million of Times more space than they
+did before in the form of a dense Body. Which vast Contraction and
+Expansion seems unintelligible, by feigning the Particles of Air to be
+springy and ramous, or rolled up like Hoops, or by any other means than
+a repulsive Power. The Particles of Fluids which do not cohere too
+strongly, and are of such a Smallness as renders them most susceptible
+of those Agitations which keep Liquors in a Fluor, are most easily
+separated and rarified into Vapour, and in the Language of the Chymists,
+they are volatile, rarifying with an easy Heat, and condensing with
+Cold. But those which are grosser, and so less susceptible of Agitation,
+or cohere by a stronger Attraction, are not separated without a stronger
+Heat, or perhaps not without Fermentation. And these last are the Bodies
+which Chymists call fix'd, and being rarified by Fermentation, become
+true permanent Air; those Particles receding from one another with the
+greatest Force, and being most difficultly brought together, which upon
+Contact cohere most strongly. And because the Particles of permanent Air
+are grosser, and arise from denser Substances than those of Vapours,
+thence it is that true Air is more ponderous than Vapour, and that a
+moist Atmosphere is lighter than a dry one, quantity for quantity. From
+the same repelling Power it seems to be that Flies walk upon the Water
+without wetting their Feet; and that the Object-glasses of long
+Telescopes lie upon one another without touching; and that dry Powders
+are difficultly made to touch one another so as to stick together,
+unless by melting them, or wetting them with Water, which by exhaling
+may bring them together; and that two polish'd Marbles, which by
+immediate Contact stick together, are difficultly brought so close
+together as to stick.
+
+And thus Nature will be very conformable to her self and very simple,
+performing all the great Motions of the heavenly Bodies by the
+Attraction of Gravity which intercedes those Bodies, and almost all the
+small ones of their Particles by some other attractive and repelling
+Powers which intercede the Particles. The _Vis inertiæ_ is a passive
+Principle by which Bodies persist in their Motion or Rest, receive
+Motion in proportion to the Force impressing it, and resist as much as
+they are resisted. By this Principle alone there never could have been
+any Motion in the World. Some other Principle was necessary for putting
+Bodies into Motion; and now they are in Motion, some other Principle is
+necessary for conserving the Motion. For from the various Composition of
+two Motions, 'tis very certain that there is not always the same
+quantity of Motion in the World. For if two Globes joined by a slender
+Rod, revolve about their common Center of Gravity with an uniform
+Motion, while that Center moves on uniformly in a right Line drawn in
+the Plane of their circular Motion; the Sum of the Motions of the two
+Globes, as often as the Globes are in the right Line described by their
+common Center of Gravity, will be bigger than the Sum of their Motions,
+when they are in a Line perpendicular to that right Line. By this
+Instance it appears that Motion may be got or lost. But by reason of the
+Tenacity of Fluids, and Attrition of their Parts, and the Weakness of
+Elasticity in Solids, Motion is much more apt to be lost than got, and
+is always upon the Decay. For Bodies which are either absolutely hard,
+or so soft as to be void of Elasticity, will not rebound from one
+another. Impenetrability makes them only stop. If two equal Bodies meet
+directly _in vacuo_, they will by the Laws of Motion stop where they
+meet, and lose all their Motion, and remain in rest, unless they be
+elastick, and receive new Motion from their Spring. If they have so much
+Elasticity as suffices to make them re-bound with a quarter, or half, or
+three quarters of the Force with which they come together, they will
+lose three quarters, or half, or a quarter of their Motion. And this may
+be try'd, by letting two equal Pendulums fall against one another from
+equal heights. If the Pendulums be of Lead or soft Clay, they will lose
+all or almost all their Motions: If of elastick Bodies they will lose
+all but what they recover from their Elasticity. If it be said, that
+they can lose no Motion but what they communicate to other Bodies, the
+consequence is, that _in vacuo_ they can lose no Motion, but when they
+meet they must go on and penetrate one another's Dimensions. If three
+equal round Vessels be filled, the one with Water, the other with Oil,
+the third with molten Pitch, and the Liquors be stirred about alike to
+give them a vortical Motion; the Pitch by its Tenacity will lose its
+Motion quickly, the Oil being less tenacious will keep it longer, and
+the Water being less tenacious will keep it longest, but yet will lose
+it in a short time. Whence it is easy to understand, that if many
+contiguous Vortices of molten Pitch were each of them as large as those
+which some suppose to revolve about the Sun and fix'd Stars, yet these
+and all their Parts would, by their Tenacity and Stiffness, communicate
+their Motion to one another till they all rested among themselves.
+Vortices of Oil or Water, or some fluider Matter, might continue longer
+in Motion; but unless the Matter were void of all Tenacity and Attrition
+of Parts, and Communication of Motion, (which is not to be supposed,)
+the Motion would constantly decay. Seeing therefore the variety of
+Motion which we find in the World is always decreasing, there is a
+necessity of conserving and recruiting it by active Principles, such as
+are the cause of Gravity, by which Planets and Comets keep their Motions
+in their Orbs, and Bodies acquire great Motion in falling; and the cause
+of Fermentation, by which the Heart and Blood of Animals are kept in
+perpetual Motion and Heat; the inward Parts of the Earth are constantly
+warm'd, and in some places grow very hot; Bodies burn and shine,
+Mountains take fire, the Caverns of the Earth are blown up, and the Sun
+continues violently hot and lucid, and warms all things by his Light.
+For we meet with very little Motion in the World, besides what is owing
+to these active Principles. And if it were not for these Principles, the
+Bodies of the Earth, Planets, Comets, Sun, and all things in them,
+would grow cold and freeze, and become inactive Masses; and all
+Putrefaction, Generation, Vegetation and Life would cease, and the
+Planets and Comets would not remain in their Orbs.
+
+All these things being consider'd, it seems probable to me, that God in
+the Beginning form'd Matter in solid, massy, hard, impenetrable,
+moveable Particles, of such Sizes and Figures, and with such other
+Properties, and in such Proportion to Space, as most conduced to the End
+for which he form'd them; and that these primitive Particles being
+Solids, are incomparably harder than any porous Bodies compounded of
+them; even so very hard, as never to wear or break in pieces; no
+ordinary Power being able to divide what God himself made one in the
+first Creation. While the Particles continue entire, they may compose
+Bodies of one and the same Nature and Texture in all Ages: But should
+they wear away, or break in pieces, the Nature of Things depending on
+them, would be changed. Water and Earth, composed of old worn Particles
+and Fragments of Particles, would not be of the same Nature and Texture
+now, with Water and Earth composed of entire Particles in the Beginning.
+And therefore, that Nature may be lasting, the Changes of corporeal
+Things are to be placed only in the various Separations and new
+Associations and Motions of these permanent Particles; compound Bodies
+being apt to break, not in the midst of solid Particles, but where those
+Particles are laid together, and only touch in a few Points.
+
+It seems to me farther, that these Particles have not only a _Vis
+inertiæ_, accompanied with such passive Laws of Motion as naturally
+result from that Force, but also that they are moved by certain active
+Principles, such as is that of Gravity, and that which causes
+Fermentation, and the Cohesion of Bodies. These Principles I consider,
+not as occult Qualities, supposed to result from the specifick Forms of
+Things, but as general Laws of Nature, by which the Things themselves
+are form'd; their Truth appearing to us by Phænomena, though their
+Causes be not yet discover'd. For these are manifest Qualities, and
+their Causes only are occult. And the _Aristotelians_ gave the Name of
+occult Qualities, not to manifest Qualities, but to such Qualities only
+as they supposed to lie hid in Bodies, and to be the unknown Causes of
+manifest Effects: Such as would be the Causes of Gravity, and of
+magnetick and electrick Attractions, and of Fermentations, if we should
+suppose that these Forces or Actions arose from Qualities unknown to us,
+and uncapable of being discovered and made manifest. Such occult
+Qualities put a stop to the Improvement of natural Philosophy, and
+therefore of late Years have been rejected. To tell us that every
+Species of Things is endow'd with an occult specifick Quality by which
+it acts and produces manifest Effects, is to tell us nothing: But to
+derive two or three general Principles of Motion from Phænomena, and
+afterwards to tell us how the Properties and Actions of all corporeal
+Things follow from those manifest Principles, would be a very great step
+in Philosophy, though the Causes of those Principles were not yet
+discover'd: And therefore I scruple not to propose the Principles of
+Motion above-mention'd, they being of very general Extent, and leave
+their Causes to be found out.
+
+Now by the help of these Principles, all material Things seem to have
+been composed of the hard and solid Particles above-mention'd, variously
+associated in the first Creation by the Counsel of an intelligent Agent.
+For it became him who created them to set them in order. And if he did
+so, it's unphilosophical to seek for any other Origin of the World, or
+to pretend that it might arise out of a Chaos by the mere Laws of
+Nature; though being once form'd, it may continue by those Laws for many
+Ages. For while Comets move in very excentrick Orbs in all manner of
+Positions, blind Fate could never make all the Planets move one and the
+same way in Orbs concentrick, some inconsiderable Irregularities
+excepted, which may have risen from the mutual Actions of Comets and
+Planets upon one another, and which will be apt to increase, till this
+System wants a Reformation. Such a wonderful Uniformity in the Planetary
+System must be allowed the Effect of Choice. And so must the Uniformity
+in the Bodies of Animals, they having generally a right and a left side
+shaped alike, and on either side of their Bodies two Legs behind, and
+either two Arms, or two Legs, or two Wings before upon their Shoulders,
+and between their Shoulders a Neck running down into a Back-bone, and a
+Head upon it; and in the Head two Ears, two Eyes, a Nose, a Mouth, and
+a Tongue, alike situated. Also the first Contrivance of those very
+artificial Parts of Animals, the Eyes, Ears, Brain, Muscles, Heart,
+Lungs, Midriff, Glands, Larynx, Hands, Wings, swimming Bladders, natural
+Spectacles, and other Organs of Sense and Motion; and the Instinct of
+Brutes and Insects, can be the effect of nothing else than the Wisdom
+and Skill of a powerful ever-living Agent, who being in all Places, is
+more able by his Will to move the Bodies within his boundless uniform
+Sensorium, and thereby to form and reform the Parts of the Universe,
+than we are by our Will to move the Parts of our own Bodies. And yet we
+are not to consider the World as the Body of God, or the several Parts
+thereof, as the Parts of God. He is an uniform Being, void of Organs,
+Members or Parts, and they are his Creatures subordinate to him, and
+subservient to his Will; and he is no more the Soul of them, than the
+Soul of Man is the Soul of the Species of Things carried through the
+Organs of Sense into the place of its Sensation, where it perceives them
+by means of its immediate Presence, without the Intervention of any
+third thing. The Organs of Sense are not for enabling the Soul to
+perceive the Species of Things in its Sensorium, but only for conveying
+them thither; and God has no need of such Organs, he being every where
+present to the Things themselves. And since Space is divisible _in
+infinitum_, and Matter is not necessarily in all places, it may be also
+allow'd that God is able to create Particles of Matter of several Sizes
+and Figures, and in several Proportions to Space, and perhaps of
+different Densities and Forces, and thereby to vary the Laws of Nature,
+and make Worlds of several sorts in several Parts of the Universe. At
+least, I see nothing of Contradiction in all this.
+
+As in Mathematicks, so in Natural Philosophy, the Investigation of
+difficult Things by the Method of Analysis, ought ever to precede the
+Method of Composition. This Analysis consists in making Experiments and
+Observations, and in drawing general Conclusions from them by Induction,
+and admitting of no Objections against the Conclusions, but such as are
+taken from Experiments, or other certain Truths. For Hypotheses are not
+to be regarded in experimental Philosophy. And although the arguing from
+Experiments and Observations by Induction be no Demonstration of general
+Conclusions; yet it is the best way of arguing which the Nature of
+Things admits of, and may be looked upon as so much the stronger, by how
+much the Induction is more general. And if no Exception occur from
+Phænomena, the Conclusion may be pronounced generally. But if at any
+time afterwards any Exception shall occur from Experiments, it may then
+begin to be pronounced with such Exceptions as occur. By this way of
+Analysis we may proceed from Compounds to Ingredients, and from Motions
+to the Forces producing them; and in general, from Effects to their
+Causes, and from particular Causes to more general ones, till the
+Argument end in the most general. This is the Method of Analysis: And
+the Synthesis consists in assuming the Causes discover'd, and
+establish'd as Principles, and by them explaining the Phænomena
+proceeding from them, and proving the Explanations.
+
+In the two first Books of these Opticks, I proceeded by this Analysis to
+discover and prove the original Differences of the Rays of Light in
+respect of Refrangibility, Reflexibility, and Colour, and their
+alternate Fits of easy Reflexion and easy Transmission, and the
+Properties of Bodies, both opake and pellucid, on which their Reflexions
+and Colours depend. And these Discoveries being proved, may be assumed
+in the Method of Composition for explaining the Phænomena arising from
+them: An Instance of which Method I gave in the End of the first Book.
+In this third Book I have only begun the Analysis of what remains to be
+discover'd about Light and its Effects upon the Frame of Nature, hinting
+several things about it, and leaving the Hints to be examin'd and
+improv'd by the farther Experiments and Observations of such as are
+inquisitive. And if natural Philosophy in all its Parts, by pursuing
+this Method, shall at length be perfected, the Bounds of Moral
+Philosophy will be also enlarged. For so far as we can know by natural
+Philosophy what is the first Cause, what Power he has over us, and what
+Benefits we receive from him, so far our Duty towards him, as well as
+that towards one another, will appear to us by the Light of Nature. And
+no doubt, if the Worship of false Gods had not blinded the Heathen,
+their moral Philosophy would have gone farther than to the four
+Cardinal Virtues; and instead of teaching the Transmigration of Souls,
+and to worship the Sun and Moon, and dead Heroes, they would have taught
+us to worship our true Author and Benefactor, as their Ancestors did
+under the Government of _Noah_ and his Sons before they corrupted
+themselves.
\ No newline at end of file