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. Informationen zum Autor Mark Twain with an Introduction by Robert Tilton and an Afterword by Geoffrey Sanborn Klappentext The classic adventures of one of American literature’s most beloved characters from Mark Twain, one of America’s best-loved writers. Here is a lighthearted excursion into boyhood, a nostalgic return into the simple, rural Missouri world of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher, and Aunt Polly. It is a universal world of attending school and playing hooky, pranks and punishments, villains and desperate adventure, seen through the eyes of a boy who might be the young Mark Twain himself. There is sheer delight in Tom Sawyer —even in the darkest moments, affection and wit permeate its pages. For adults it re-creates the vanished dreams of youth. For younger readers it unveils the boundaries of tantalizing horizons still to come. And for everyone, it reveals the mind and heart of one of America’s best-loved writers. With an Introduction by Robert Tilton and an Afterword by Geoffrey Sanborn Chapter 1 "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 around, 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 tim...
