When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and whispered
in her ear:
Put on your bonnet and let on you re going home; and when you get to
the corner, give the rest of em the slip, and turn down through the
lane and come back. I ll go the other way and come it over em the same
way.
So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with
another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and
when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they
sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil
and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising
house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking.
Tom was swimming in bliss. He said:
Do you love rats?
No! I hate them!
Well, I do, too _live_ ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your
head with a string.
No, I don t care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum.
Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now.
Do you? I ve got some. I ll let you chew it awhile, but you must give
it back to me.
That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their legs
against the bench in excess of contentment.
Was you ever at a circus? said Tom.
Yes, and my pa s going to take me again some time, if I m good.
I been to the circus three or four times lots of times. Church ain t
shucks to a circus. There s things going on at a circus all the time.
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