Tom Sawyer Abroad
Mark Twain, 1894. A chapter a page, in reading order.
14 páginasActualizada
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Página 1CC0 1.0 (dominio público)
That was all the effects it had. You see, when we three came back up the river in glory, as you may say, from that long travel, and the village received us with a torchlight procession and speeches, and everybody hurrah'd and shouted, and some got drunk, it made us heroes, and that was what Tom Sawy
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But the papers went on talking, and so he allowed that maybe if he didn't go he mightn't ever have another chance to see a balloon; and next, he found out that Nat Parsons was going down to see it, and that decided him, of course. He wasn't going to have Nat Parsons coming back bragging about seeing
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Well, when you are sharp set, and you eat and satisfy yourself, everything looks pretty different from what it done before. It makes a body feel pretty near comfortable, even when he is up in a balloon with a genius. We got to talking together. There was one thing that kept bothering me, and by-and-
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We was racing along like a prairie fire, but it never made any difference—we couldn't seem to git past that center no way; I couldn't see that we ever gained an inch on that ring. It made a body feel creepy, it was so curious and unaccountable. Well, everything was so awful still that we got to talk
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We went aft to find some breakfast, and the first thing we noticed was that there was a dim light burning in a compass back there under a hood. Then Tom was disturbed. He says: "You know what that means easy enough. It means that somebody has got to stay on watch and steer this thing the same as he
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Wherever there's sand, you are going to find that bird; and the more sand, the bigger the flock. Here it was all sand, and the result was according. I never see such a turn-out. We had to go up a mile before we struck comfortable weather; and we had to go up another mile before we got rid of them cr
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Jim said he reckoned a balloon was a good deal the fastest thing in the world, unless it might be some kinds of birds—a wild pigeon, maybe, or a railroad. But Tom said he had read about railroads in England going nearly a hundred miles an hour for a little ways, and there never was a bird in the wor
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It give us the cold shivers. And it made us hush down, too, and talk low, like people at a funeral. We dropped down slow, and stopped, and me and Tom clumb down and went amongst them. There was men, and women, and children.
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That spoilt the water, and it ripened up the beefsteak to a degree that was just right for an Englishman, Tom said, but was 'most too gay for Americans; so we reckoned we would drop down into the lion market and see how we could make out there. We hauled in the ladder and dropped down till we was ju
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No." "Well, a man that owns a hundred camels, and ain't in debt, is rich, and not only rich, but very rich. Ain't it so?" The camel-driver owned up that it was so. Then the dervish says: "God has made you rich, and He has made me poor. He has His reasons, and they are wise—blessed be His name!
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It was a rattler, that caravan, and a most bully sight to look at, next morning, when the sun come a-streaming across the Desert and flung the long shadders of the camels on the gold sand like a thousand granddaddy-longlegses marching in procession. We never went very near it, because we knowed bett
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It's a curious thing that the more you hear about a grand and big and bully thing or person, the more it kind of dreamies out, as you may say, and gets to be a big dim wavery figger made out of moonshine and nothing solid to it. It's just so with George Washington, and the same with them pyramids. A
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Such narrow streets—why, they were just lanes, and crowded with people with turbans, and women with veils, and everybody rigged out in blazing bright clothes and all sorts of colors, and you wondered how the camels and the people got by each other in such narrow little cracks, but they done it—a per
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edition in the United States ([text]( at [Project Gutenberg]( [transcription project](
- The Chatto & Windus edition in England ([page images]( at [The Internet Archive]( All three ultimately derive from the author's typescript, but the first two suffered heavily at the hands of St. Nicholas editor