"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 spoil
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, won't it?"
"Yes'm."
"Powerful warm, won'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
"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
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.
湯姆·索亞歷險記 譯者：曹曉紅
第一章 湯姆耍鬥，東躲西藏
“湯姆！”
沒人答應。
“湯姆！”
又沒人答應。
“這孩子到底怎麼啦，我真搞不懂？你這個湯姆！”
還是沒有人答應。
這老太太拉低眼鏡從鏡片上方朝房間看了看，然後她又抬高眼鏡從鏡片下面看。她很少或者乾脆說她從來沒戴正眼鏡來找像一個小男孩這樣小的東西。這副眼鏡是很考究的，也是她的驕傲，她配這副眼鏡不是為
了實用，而是為了“裝飾”，為了“漂亮”。她看東西時，即使戴上兩片爐子蓋也照樣看得一清二楚。她茫然不知所措地愣了一會兒。然後雖然不是凶神惡煞般，但嗓門高得讓每個角落都能聽到，她說：
“好，我發誓如果我抓住你，我就——”
她話沒有說完，因為這時她正彎腰用掃把往床下猛搗，每搗一下，她需要停下來換口氣。結果，只搗出來一隻貓。
“我還從沒有見過這麼令人吃驚的孩子！”
她走到敞開的門口，站在那裡朝滿園子的西紅柿藤和吉普遜草叢中看，想找到湯姆，可還是沒有。於是她亮開嗓子朝遠處，高聲喊到：
“湯姆呀，湯姆！”
這時在她身後傳來一聲輕微的響聲，她轉身一把抓住了一個小男孩的短外套的衣角，他想跑都跑不掉了。
“嘿！我早該想到那個壁櫥，你躲在那裡幹什麼？”
“沒幹什麼。”
“沒幹什麼？！瞧你那雙手，再看你那張嘴，還有那渾身是什麼？”
“我不知道，姨媽。”
“哎，我知道，那是蜜餞——對，就是。我已跟你講過有四十遍了，不要動我的蜜餞，否則我就扒你的皮。把鞭子遞給我。”
鞭子在空中晃悠——情況萬分緊急。
“不得了！瞧你身後是什麼，姨媽！”
老太太以為有危險，急忙撩起裙子，轉過身去。湯姆撥腿就逃，頃刻他爬過高高的木柵欄，一轉眼就消失得無影無蹤。
他的波莉姨媽站在那兒先是一愣，隨後突然輕聲笑了起來。
“這個該死的，我怎麼老是不吸取教訓？和我開這樣的玩笑，也不知開過多少次了。難道我不該有所提防嗎？人老了，糊塗才是最大的糊塗蛋。俗話說得好，老狗學不會新把戲。可是天啦！他耍的鬼把戲裡從來
沒有兩天一樣的，誰能猜出下個鬼主意是什麼？他似乎知道，他能折磨我多長時間，我才會動肝火，而且他也知道他只要想個法哄哄我，惹我大笑一場，就會萬事皆休，我也不會揍他一頓。我對他是敢怒不能揍。我
對那孩子沒盡到責任，上帝知道那是真的。《聖經》裡說：‘孩子不打不成器。’我太溺愛那孩子，我也知道這對我倆都不好。他一肚鬼點子。哎呀，但他是我那死去的親姐姐的兒子，可憐的孩子，我怎麼也不忍心
揍他。每一次饒了他，我良心都受譴責；可是每一回打他，我都有點心痛不忍。哎，哎，就像《聖經》所說的，人為母生，光陰荏苒，充滿苦難。我看這話說得一點都不錯。今天下午他要是逃學，明天我就想法讓他
幹點活，懲罰懲罰他。星期六讓他幹活，恐怕苛刻了點，因為所有的孩子都放了假，他又恨透了幹活，比恨什麼都厲害。可是我不得不對他盡到我的責任，否則我會把這個孩子給毀了。”
湯姆真的沒去上課，而且痛痛快快地玩了一場。他回家時正好趕上幫那小黑孩吉姆的忙，幫他在晚飯前鋸第二天用的木頭，劈引火用的柴——至少他及時趕到那兒，把他所幹的事講給吉姆聽，而活卻是吉姆乾了
四分之三。湯姆的弟弟（確切地說是同母異父的弟弟）希德已幹完了他那份活（撿碎木塊），因為他是個不聲不響的孩子，從不幹什麼冒險的事，也不惹什麼麻煩。
湯姆吃晚飯的時候，總是瞅機會偷糖吃，波莉姨媽這時開始問他，話裡充滿了詭計，而且非常巧妙——因為她要設點圈套，套他說出實話來。跟其他許多頭腦簡單的人一樣，她很自負，並且相信自己很有點子，
會耍弄詭秘狡猾的手腕，把自己極易被人識破的詭計當作最高明的計策，她說：
“湯姆，學校裡挺熱的，對吧？”
“是的，姨媽。”
“熱的厲害，對不對？”
“對，姨媽。”
“你是不是想去游泳來著，湯姆。”
湯姆忽然感到有點慌張——一絲不安和疑惑掠過心頭。他偷眼察看波莉姨媽的臉色，可什麼也沒有看出來。於是他說：
“沒有啊，姨媽——呃，沒怎麼想去。”
老太太伸出手摸摸湯姆的襯衣，說道：
“可是你現在卻並不怎麼熱，是吧！”她已發現襯衣是乾的，卻沒有人知道她內心的真正用意，為此她感到很得意。而湯姆猜透了她的心思，所以他為防老太太的下一招來了個先發制人。
“有的人往大家頭上打水——你瞧，我的頭髮還是濕的呢！”
波莉姨媽很懊惱，她居然沒注意到這個明擺著的事實，以致錯過了一次機會。可接著她靈機一動，計上心來：
“湯姆，你往頭上澆水的時候，不必拆掉我給你襯衫上縫的領子吧？把上衣的紐扣解開！”
湯姆臉上的不安馬上就消失了。他解開上衣，襯衣的領子還是縫的好好的。
“真是怪事。得，算了吧！我看你曠課去游泳了！我認為你就像俗話裡說的燒焦毛的貓一樣——並不像表面看起來的那樣壞。就這一次，下不為例。”
她一面為自己的計謀落空而難過，一面又為湯姆這一次竟能如此溫順聽話而高興。
可是希德卻說：
“哼，我記得你好像給他縫領子用的是白線，可現在卻是黑線。”
“嘿，我的確用白線縫的！湯姆！”
可湯姆沒等聽完話就走了。他走出門口的時候說：
“希德，為這我可要狠狠揍你一頓。”
在一個安全的地方，湯姆仔細檢查了別在上衣翻領上的兩根大針，針上還穿著線，一根繞著白線，另一根繞著黑線。
他說：
“如果不是希德，她是永遠不會注意到的。真討厭！有時她用白線縫，有時又用黑線。我真希望她總是用一種線——換來換去我實在記不住。不過，我發誓非揍希德一頓不可，我要好好教訓教訓他。”
湯姆不是村裡的模範男孩，但他對那位模範男孩非常熟悉，並且很討厭他。
不到兩分鐘，甚至更短，他已將全部煩惱給忘記了。就像大人們的煩惱也是煩惱一樣，他忘記煩惱並不是因為他的煩惱對他不怎麼沉重和難受，而是因為一種新的、更強烈的興趣暫時壓倒並驅散了他心中的煩悶
——就像大人們在新奇感受的興奮之時，也會暫時忘卻自己的不幸一樣。這種新產生的興趣就是一種新的吹口哨方法，它很有價值，是剛從一個黑人那學到的，現在他正要一心練習練習又不想被別人打擾。這聲音很
特別，像小鳥的叫聲，一種流暢而委婉的音調。在吹這個調子的時候，舌頭斷斷續續地抵住口腔的上齶——讀者若曾經也是孩子的話，也許還記得該怎樣吹這種口哨。湯姆學得很勤奮，練得很專心，很快就掌握了其
中要領。於是他沿街大步流星地走著，口中吹著口哨，心裡樂滋滋的，那股樂勁如同天文學家發現了新行星時一般，僅就樂的程度之深之強烈而言，此時的湯姆絕對比天文學家還要興奮。
夏天的下午很長，這時天還沒有黑。湯姆的口哨聲忽然停住了，因為在他面前出現了一個陌生人——一個比他大一點的男孩。
在聖彼德堡這個貧窮、破落的小村子裡，不管是男的還是女的，老的還是少的，只要是新來的，就能引起人們的好奇心。而且這個男孩穿得非常講究——在平常工作日竟穿戴如此整齊，僅這就讓湯姆對他刮目相
看。他的帽子很精緻，藍色的上衣扣得緊緊的，又新又整潔，他的褲子也是一樣。他竟然還穿著鞋——要知道，今天可是星期五！他甚至還打了條領帶，那是條顏色鮮亮的絲質領帶。他擺出一副城裡人的架勢，湯姆
對此感到很不自在。湯姆眼盯著他那套漂亮的衣服，鼻子翹得高高的。可是他越看越是覺得自己身上的衣服很寒酸破舊。兩個人都一聲不吭。一個挪動一步，另一個也挪一步——可都是斜著步子兜圈子。他倆面對面
，眼對眼這樣相持了很長時間，最後還是湯姆先開了腔：
“我能打得過你！”
“我倒想見識見識。”
“那好，我就打給你看。”
“得了，你不行。”
“我行。”
“你就是不行。”
“我就是行。”
“不行！”
“行！”
“不行！”
兩個人都不自在地停了下來。接著湯姆問道：
“你叫什麼名字？”
“這也許你管不著！”
“哼，我就管得著！”
“好，那你就管管看。”
“要是你再囉嗦，我就管給你看。”
“囉嗦——囉嗦——偏要囉嗦，看你能怎麼樣？”
“哎，你認為你自己很了不起，是不是？如果我想打倒你的話，一隻手背在後面都能打過你。”
“好啊，你說你能打過我，那你為什麼不動手啊？”
“如果你老是嘴硬的話，我就打給你看。”
“嘿——你這種人我見得多了，盡吹大話下不了台！”
“哈！你自以為是個人物呢！瞧，你那帽子！”
“你要是看不順眼你就把它摘下來呀，如果你敢碰，我就揍扁你！”
“你吹牛。”
“你也是吹牛。”
“你光是講大話，不敢動手。”
“噢，滾你的蛋吧！”
“告訴你——要是你再罵我的話，我就用石頭砸碎你的腦袋。”
“那好，你就來砸啊！”
“我肯定會的。”
“那你為什麼不來試試？你老是吹牛不敢動手，哦，我知道你害怕了。”
“我才不怕呢！”
“你怕！”
“我不怕！”
“你就是怕！”
兩個人暫停了一會兒，接著又眼對眼，身子側身子兜著圈子走了幾步。忽然兩個人肩抵著肩。湯姆說：
“你從這滾吧！”
“你自己滾吧！”
“我不滾。”
“我也不滾。”
於是他倆站在那兒，雙方都斜著一隻腳撐著勁，用盡力氣想把對手往後推，兩個人都憤恨地瞪著對方。可是誰都沒占優勢。他們直鬥得渾身燥熱，滿臉通紅，然後兩人稍稍放鬆，卻都小心謹慎地提防著對方。這
時，湯姆又說：“你是個膽小鬼，是個狗崽子。我要向我大哥哥告你的狀，他只要動動小指頭就能把你捏碎，我會讓他揍你的。”
“我可不怕你什麼大哥哥，我有一個比你大哥還大的大哥哥——而且我大哥哥能把你的大哥哥從那堵籬笆圍墻扔過去。”
（兩個人的所謂的大哥哥都是虛構的。）
“你撒謊。”
“你講的也不是真的。”
湯姆用大腳趾頭在地上的灰土上劃了一道線，說：
“你若敢跨過這道線，我就把你打趴在地上，讓你站不起來。誰敢，誰就得吃不了兜著走。”
這個新來的男孩毫不猶豫地跨過那道線，說：
“你說你敢打我，現在來看看你怎麼打法。”
“你不要逼我！你最好還是當心點。”
“哎，你不是說要打我嗎？——你為什麼不動手啊？”
“得了，你要是肯給我兩個分幣，我就動手。”
新來的男孩果真從衣服口袋裡掏出兩個分幣，嘲弄地攤開手掌。湯姆一把將錢打翻在地。立刻兩個人像兩隻爭食的貓一樣，在地上的塵土裡滾打，撕扯起來，緊接著又是扯頭髮，又是揪衣領，拼命地捶打對方的
鼻子，抓對方的臉。兩個人都弄得渾身是土，卻又都威風凜凜。最後誰勝誰敗逐漸見了分曉，湯姆從塵土中爬起來，騎在那個男孩的身上，攥緊拳頭使勁地打那個男孩。
“挨夠了嗎？求饒吧！”他說。
那個男孩只想掙脫出來。他氣得嚎啕大哭。
湯姆還在不停地捶打，說：“求饒吧！”
那男孩只好擠出幾個字：“饒了我！”
湯姆讓他站起來，對他說：
“現在你知道我的厲害了吧！以後最好給我小心點，看看在跟誰嘴硬。”
這位新來的男孩拍拍身上的塵土，哭哭啼啼地走開了。他不時地回過頭來，搖晃著腦袋，嚇唬湯姆：
“下次要是抓住你，我就，我就……”
湯姆對此不屑一顧，趾高氣揚地走開了。他的背剛一轉過來，那男孩子就抓起一塊石頭朝他砸過來，正打在湯姆的背上，接著就夾著尾巴，像羚羊似的飛快地跑掉了。湯姆窮追不捨，直追到他家。他就站在人家
大門口，嚷著叫那男孩出來較量，可是那個對手只是在窗子裡朝他擠鼻子弄眼，拒不迎戰。最後那對手的媽媽出來了，咒罵湯姆是個邪惡下流、沒有家教的壞孩子，喝斥他趕快滾開。於是湯姆就走了，不過，他臨走
時說還要尋機再教訓教訓那混小子一頓。
那天晚上，他回到家時已經很遲了。當他小心翼翼地從窗戶往裡爬時，猛然間發現了有人埋伏，仔細一看，原來是他的波莉姨媽。她看到他衣服被弄成那副樣子，原來就打算讓湯姆在星期六休息日幹活的決心現在就更加堅定了。
