The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young the music issued at the lips.

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

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.

She seldom or never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy

There was a weak attempt at applause, but it died early.

beyond the majestic waste of water

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.

the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not service

ack some time in a week, or I'll tan

ack some time in a week, or I'll tan