1 He was not the Model Boy of the village.
2 He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of ribbon.
3 He remembered that there was company at the pump.
4 He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work.
5 He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing.
6 He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals.
7 He began to think of the fun he had planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied.
8 He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit.
9 He put down his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing interest while the bandage was being unwound.
10 He had thought he loved her to distraction; he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor little evanescent partiality.
11 He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the window and declined.
12 He was eating an apple, and giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat.
13 He presently got safely beyond the reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square of the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for conflict, according to previous appointment.
14 He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some time; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl was wending her way toward the house.
15 He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she had discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to win her admiration.
16 He had been months winning her; she had confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is done.
17 He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its firmness.
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