CHAPTER XVII
BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquilSaturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were beingput into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quietpossessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in allconscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air,and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed aburden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, andgradually gave them up.
In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about thedeserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she foundnothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:
"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't gotanything 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 saythat--I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'llnever, never, never see him any more."
This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rollingdown her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls--playmates ofTom's and Joe's--came by, and stood looking over the paling fence andtalking in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time theysaw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant withawful prophecy, as they could easily see now!)--and each speakerpointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, andthen added something like "and I was a-standing just so--just as I amnow, and as if you was him--I was as close as that--and he smiled, justthis way--and then something seemed to go all over me, like--awful, youknow--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, andmany claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more orless tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decidedwho DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them,the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, andwere gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had noother grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in theremembrance:
"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 loiteredaway, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.
When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bellbegan to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very stillSabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hushthat lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a momentin the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But therewas no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dressesas the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. Nonecould remember when the little church had been so full before. Therewas finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Pollyentered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, allin deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well,rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the frontpew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals bymuffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed.A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrectionand the Life."
As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of thegraces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads thatevery soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang inremembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them alwaysbefore, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poorboys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of thedeparted, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and thepeople could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodeswere, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they hadseemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. Thecongregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on,till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weepingmourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving wayto his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.
There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a momentlater the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyesabove his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and thenanother pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with oneimpulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys camemarching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin ofdrooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid inthe unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!
Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restoredones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, whilepoor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what todo or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, andstarted 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!" Andthe loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thingcapable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before.
Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise Godfrom whom all blessings flow--SING!--and put your hearts in it!"
And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, andwhile it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon theenvying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this wasthe proudest moment of his life.
As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost bewilling to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like thatonce more.
Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day--according to Aunt Polly'svarying moods--than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knewwhich expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself.
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