compress: reduce copies of new text for compression testing
The previous book was 387 KiB decompressed and 119 KiB compressed, the
new book is 567 KiB decompressed and 132 KiB compressed. Overall, this
change will reduce the release binary size by 196 KiB. The new book will
allow for slightly more extensive compression testing with a larger
text.
Command to run the benchmark tests used with benchstat:
`../bin/go test -run='^$' -count=4 -bench=. compress/bzip2 compress/flate`
When running the benchmarks locally, changed "Newton" to "Twain" and
filtered the tests with the -bench flag to include only those which were
relevant to these changes.
benchstat results below:
name old time/op new time/op delta
DecodeTwain-8 19.6ms ± 2% 24.1ms ± 1% +23.04% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e4-8 140µs ± 3% 139µs ± 5% ~ (p=0.886 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e5-8 1.27ms ± 3% 1.26ms ± 1% ~ (p=1.000 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e6-8 12.4ms ± 0% 13.2ms ± 1% +6.42% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e4-8 133µs ± 1% 123µs ± 1% -7.35% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e5-8 1.20ms ± 0% 1.02ms ± 3% -15.32% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e6-8 12.0ms ± 2% 10.1ms ± 3% -15.89% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e4-8 131µs ± 6% 108µs ± 5% -17.84% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e5-8 1.06ms ± 2% 0.80ms ± 1% -24.97% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e6-8 10.0ms ± 3% 8.0ms ± 3% -20.06% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e4-8 128µs ± 4% 115µs ± 4% -9.70% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e5-8 1.04ms ± 2% 0.83ms ± 4% -20.37% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e6-8 10.4ms ± 4% 8.1ms ± 5% -22.25% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Huffman/1e4-8 55.7µs ± 2% 55.6µs ± 1% ~ (p=1.000 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Huffman/1e5-8 441µs ± 0% 435µs ± 2% ~ (p=0.343 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Huffman/1e6-8 4.31ms ± 4% 4.30ms ± 4% ~ (p=0.886 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Speed/1e4-8 193µs ± 1% 166µs ± 2% -14.09% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Speed/1e5-8 1.54ms ± 1% 1.22ms ± 1% -20.53% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Speed/1e6-8 15.3ms ± 1% 12.2ms ± 3% -20.62% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Default/1e4-8 393µs ± 1% 390µs ± 1% ~ (p=0.114 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Default/1e5-8 6.12ms ± 4% 6.02ms ± 5% ~ (p=0.486 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Default/1e6-8 69.4ms ± 5% 59.0ms ± 4% -15.07% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Compression/1e4-8 423µs ± 2% 379µs ± 2% -10.34% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Compression/1e5-8 7.00ms ± 1% 7.88ms ± 3% +12.49% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Compression/1e6-8 76.6ms ± 5% 80.9ms ± 3% ~ (p=0.114 n=4+4)
name old speed new speed delta
DecodeTwain-8 19.8MB/s ± 2% 23.6MB/s ± 1% +18.84% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e4-8 71.7MB/s ± 3% 72.1MB/s ± 6% ~ (p=0.943 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e5-8 78.8MB/s ± 3% 79.5MB/s ± 1% ~ (p=1.000 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e6-8 80.5MB/s ± 0% 75.6MB/s ± 1% -6.03% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e4-8 75.2MB/s ± 1% 81.2MB/s ± 1% +7.93% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e5-8 83.4MB/s ± 0% 98.6MB/s ± 3% +18.16% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e6-8 83.6MB/s ± 2% 99.5MB/s ± 3% +18.91% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e4-8 76.3MB/s ± 6% 92.8MB/s ± 4% +21.62% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e5-8 94.4MB/s ± 3% 125.7MB/s ± 1% +33.24% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e6-8 100MB/s ± 3% 125MB/s ± 3% +25.12% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e4-8 78.4MB/s ± 4% 86.8MB/s ± 4% +10.73% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e5-8 95.7MB/s ± 2% 120.3MB/s ± 4% +25.65% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e6-8 96.4MB/s ± 4% 124.0MB/s ± 5% +28.64% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Huffman/1e4-8 179MB/s ± 2% 180MB/s ± 1% ~ (p=1.000 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Huffman/1e5-8 227MB/s ± 0% 230MB/s ± 2% ~ (p=0.343 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Huffman/1e6-8 232MB/s ± 4% 233MB/s ± 4% ~ (p=0.886 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Speed/1e4-8 51.8MB/s ± 1% 60.4MB/s ± 2% +16.43% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Speed/1e5-8 65.1MB/s ± 1% 81.9MB/s ± 1% +25.83% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Speed/1e6-8 65.2MB/s ± 1% 82.2MB/s ± 3% +26.00% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Default/1e4-8 25.4MB/s ± 1% 25.6MB/s ± 1% ~ (p=0.114 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Default/1e5-8 16.4MB/s ± 4% 16.6MB/s ± 5% ~ (p=0.486 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Default/1e6-8 14.4MB/s ± 6% 17.0MB/s ± 4% +17.67% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Compression/1e4-8 23.6MB/s ± 2% 26.4MB/s ± 2% +11.54% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Compression/1e5-8 14.3MB/s ± 1% 12.7MB/s ± 3% -11.08% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Encode/Twain/Compression/1e6-8 13.1MB/s ± 4% 12.4MB/s ± 3% ~ (p=0.114 n=4+4)
name old alloc/op new alloc/op delta
DecodeTwain-8 3.63MB ± 0% 3.63MB ± 0% +0.15% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e4-8 42.0kB ± 0% 41.3kB ± 0% -1.62% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e5-8 43.5kB ± 0% 45.1kB ± 0% +3.74% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e6-8 71.7kB ± 0% 80.0kB ± 0% +11.55% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e4-8 41.2kB ± 0% 41.3kB ± 0% ~ (p=0.286 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e5-8 45.1kB ± 0% 43.9kB ± 0% -2.80% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e6-8 72.8kB ± 0% 81.3kB ± 0% +11.72% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e4-8 41.2kB ± 0% 41.2kB ± 0% -0.22% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e5-8 44.4kB ± 0% 43.0kB ± 0% -3.02% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e6-8 71.0kB ± 0% 61.8kB ± 0% -13.00% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e4-8 41.3kB ± 0% 41.2kB ± 0% -0.29% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e5-8 43.3kB ± 0% 43.0kB ± 0% -0.72% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e6-8 69.1kB ± 0% 63.7kB ± 0% -7.90% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
name old allocs/op new allocs/op delta
DecodeTwain-8 51.0 ± 0% 51.2 ± 1% ~ (p=1.000 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e4-8 15.0 ± 0% 14.0 ± 0% -6.67% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e5-8 20.0 ± 0% 23.0 ± 0% +15.00% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Huffman/1e6-8 134 ± 0% 161 ± 0% +20.15% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e4-8 17.0 ± 0% 18.0 ± 0% +5.88% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e5-8 30.0 ± 0% 31.0 ± 0% +3.33% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Speed/1e6-8 193 ± 0% 228 ± 0% +18.13% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e4-8 17.0 ± 0% 15.0 ± 0% -11.76% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e5-8 28.0 ± 0% 32.0 ± 0% +14.29% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Default/1e6-8 199 ± 0% 158 ± 0% -20.60% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e4-8 17.0 ± 0% 15.0 ± 0% -11.76% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e5-8 28.0 ± 0% 32.0 ± 0% +14.29% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Decode/Twain/Compression/1e6-8 196 ± 0% 150 ± 0% -23.47% (p=0.029 n=4+4)
Updates #27151
Change-Id: I6c439694ed16a33bb4c63fbfb8570c7de46b4f2d
Reviewed-on: https://go-review.googlesource.com/135495
Reviewed-by: Dmitri Shuralyov <dmitshur@golang.org>
Reviewed-by: Joe Tsai <thebrokentoaster@gmail.com>
diff --git a/misc/nacl/testzip.proto b/misc/nacl/testzip.proto
index f15a2ab..1e9279e 100644
--- a/misc/nacl/testzip.proto
+++ b/misc/nacl/testzip.proto
@@ -177,6 +177,8 @@
strconv
testdata
+
+ testdata
+ +
text
template
testdata
diff --git a/src/compress/bzip2/bzip2_test.go b/src/compress/bzip2/bzip2_test.go
index 3848603..c432bb5 100644
--- a/src/compress/bzip2/bzip2_test.go
+++ b/src/compress/bzip2/bzip2_test.go
@@ -214,7 +214,7 @@
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")
)
@@ -236,5 +236,5 @@
}
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) }
diff --git a/src/compress/bzip2/testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt.bz2 b/src/compress/bzip2/testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt.bz2
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c56de3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/src/compress/bzip2/testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt.bz2
Binary files differ
diff --git a/src/compress/bzip2/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt.bz2 b/src/compress/bzip2/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt.bz2
deleted file mode 100644
index eac2b05..0000000
--- a/src/compress/bzip2/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt.bz2
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/src/compress/flate/deflate_test.go b/src/compress/flate/deflate_test.go
index fbea761..831be21 100644
--- a/src/compress/flate/deflate_test.go
+++ b/src/compress/flate/deflate_test.go
@@ -371,9 +371,9 @@
[...]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},
},
}
@@ -654,7 +654,7 @@
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)
}
diff --git a/src/compress/flate/reader_test.go b/src/compress/flate/reader_test.go
index b0a16ce..9d2943a 100644
--- a/src/compress/flate/reader_test.go
+++ b/src/compress/flate/reader_test.go
@@ -27,8 +27,8 @@
// 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) {
diff --git a/src/compress/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt b/src/compress/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index c9106fd..0000000
--- a/src/compress/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,8465 +0,0 @@
-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.
diff --git a/src/net/sendfile_test.go b/src/net/sendfile_test.go
index 3b98277..f133744 100644
--- a/src/net/sendfile_test.go
+++ b/src/net/sendfile_test.go
@@ -17,9 +17,9 @@
)
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) {
@@ -43,7 +43,7 @@
defer close(errc)
defer conn.Close()
- f, err := os.Open(twain)
+ f, err := os.Open(newton)
if err != nil {
errc <- err
return
@@ -58,8 +58,8 @@
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
}
}()
@@ -79,11 +79,11 @@
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")
}
@@ -113,7 +113,7 @@
defer close(errc)
defer conn.Close()
- f, err := os.Open(twain)
+ f, err := os.Open(newton)
if err != nil {
errc <- err
return
@@ -174,7 +174,7 @@
defer close(errc)
defer conn.Close()
- f, err := os.Open(twain)
+ f, err := os.Open(newton)
if err != nil {
errc <- err
return
diff --git a/src/net/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt b/src/net/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index c9106fd..0000000
--- a/src/net/testdata/Mark.Twain-Tom.Sawyer.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,8465 +0,0 @@
-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.
diff --git a/src/testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt b/src/testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..15bb4c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/src/testdata/Isaac.Newton-Opticks.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9286 @@
+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
