- #HOW TO BREAK INTO A SENTRY SAFE LOCKBOX WITH A PAPER CLIP SKIN#
- #HOW TO BREAK INTO A SENTRY SAFE LOCKBOX WITH A PAPER CLIP FULL#
“Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?”Ī bit of a scare shot through Tom-a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. “Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?” 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.
#HOW TO BREAK INTO A SENTRY SAFE LOCKBOX WITH A PAPER CLIP FULL#
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. 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. 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 did play hookey, and he had a very good time. 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.” He'll play hookey this evening, * and I'll just be obleeged to make him work, to-morrow, to punish him. 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.
Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. 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. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for us both, I know. Spare the rod and spile the child, as the Good Book says. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. 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. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, as the saying is. “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. His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle laugh. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and disappeared over it. The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The switch hovered in the air-the peril was desperate.
#HOW TO BREAK INTO A SENTRY SAFE LOCKBOX WITH A PAPER CLIP SKIN#
Forty times I've said if you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. “There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. 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. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted: She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the Tomato vines and “jimpson” weeds that constituted the garden. 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 looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear: 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. The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room then she put them up and looked out under them.
“What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You Tom!” 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.Īlthough 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. 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. 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.
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