BUT there was no hilarity¹ in the little town that same tranquil² Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet possessed³ the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and gradually gave them up.

In the afternoon Becky Thatcher⁴ found herself moping about the deserted⁵ schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy⁶. But she found nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:

"Oh, if I only had a brass⁷ andiron-knob again! But I haven't got anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob⁸.

Presently she stopped, and said to herself:

"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say that -- I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'll never, never, never see him any more."

This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls -- playmates of Tom's and Joe's -- came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and talking in reverent⁹ tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time they saw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!) -- and each speaker pointed¹⁰ out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and then added something like "and I was a-standing just so -- just as I am now, and as if you was him -- I was as close as that -- and he smiled, just this way -- and then something seemed to go all over me, like -- awful, you know -- 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, and many claimed that dismal¹¹ distinction, and offered evidences, more or less tampered¹² with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided¹³ who DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and were gaped¹⁴ at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no other grandeur¹⁵ to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the remembrance:

"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 loitered away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed¹⁶ voices.

When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell began to toll¹⁷, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing¹⁸ hush¹⁹ that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment in the vestibule to converse²⁰ in whispers about the sad event. But there was no whispering in the house; only the funereal²¹ rustling²² of dresses as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None could remember when the little church had been so full before. There was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all in deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, rose reverently²³ and stood until the mourners were seated in the front pew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals²⁴ by muffled²⁵ sobs²⁶, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. A moving hymn²⁷ was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection and the Life."

As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang²⁸ in remembering that he had persistently²⁹ blinded himself to them always before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor boys. The minister related many a touching³⁰ incident in the lives of the departed, too, which illustrated³¹ their sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping mourners in a chorus of anguished³² sobs, the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.

There was a rustle³³ in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment later the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came marching up the aisle³⁴, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of drooping³⁵ rags, sneaking³⁶ sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!

Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored ones, smothered³⁷ them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while poor Huck stood abashed³⁸ and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what to do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and started 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!" And the loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished³⁹ upon him were the one thing capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before.

Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise God from whom all blessings⁴⁰ flow -- sing! -- and put your hearts in it!"

And they did. Old Hundred swelled⁴¹ up with a triumphant⁴² burst, and while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the envying juveniles⁴³ about him and confessed in his heart that this was the proudest moment of his life.

As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that once more.

Tom got more cuffs⁴⁴ and kisses that day -- according to Aunt Polly's varying moods -- than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself

也就是在同一个星期六的下午，镇上虽然宁静，但人们的心情却很沉重。哈帕家和波莉
姨妈家都沉浸在悲哀之中，哭声不断。说实话，镇上本来已经够宁静的了，现在静得更加异
乎寻常。村里的人干活时都心不在焉，也很少说话，只是长吁短叹个不停。周六似乎也成了
孩子们的负担。他们做游戏时，总也提不起精神，到后来干脆不玩了。
    那天下午，贝基·撒切尔在空无一人的学校操场上，愁眉苦脸地踱来踱去，心里觉得很
凄凉，但找不到什么可以安慰自己的东西，于是她一边步一边喃喃自语道：
    “哦，我要是再能得到那只柴架上的铜把手就好了！现在我连一件纪念他的东西都没
有。”
    她强忍着泪水。过了一会，她停住脚步，自言自语道：
    “就是在这儿。哦，要是他再给我一次的话，我决不会像上回那样固执了，无论如何也
不会再像上回那样说话了。可是他现在已经去了，我将永远、永远再也见不到他了。”
    想到这里，她再也支撑不住了。于是她茫然走开，泪水顺着脸颊往下流。后来，有一大
群男孩和女孩——他们曾经是汤姆和乔的伙伴——走了过来，站在那里向栅栏那边看，用虔
诚的语调讲述着汤姆曾经如何干过什么事情，以及他们最后一次见到汤姆的情形。还有乔怎
样说了这样和那样的小事情。（现在他们一眼就看出，这一切都充满了可怕的预兆！）在场
的人个个都能讲出失踪的伙伴当时所站的确切地点，然后又补上一句：“我当时就这么站着
——就像现在这样，比如你是他——我俩就这么近——他笑了，就像这样——接着我觉得浑
身不对劲——就像——很吓人，你知道——我当时根本不知道是怎么回事，可现在我全明白
了。”
    接着他们就谁最后看见那些失踪的孩子展开一场争论。许多孩子真是苦中作乐，争着抢
头功，并且提出了一些证据，被证人添油加醋地说了一番。最后公布结果时，那些被认为是
最后看到过死者并和他们讲了话的幸运者便摆出一副了不起的样子，其余的人则张着嘴望着
他们，羡慕得不得了。有个可怜的家伙，他没有什么值得荣耀的事情可谈，于是就想起一件
往事，便无不骄傲地说道：
    “哦，汤姆·索亚揍过我一回。”
    可是，这并没能让他获得大家的羡慕，因为大多数的孩子都可以这么说，所以他的这句
话就不大值钱了。后来这群孩子继续聊着，用敬畏的口气追述几位死去的英雄的生平事迹。
    第二天上午，主日学校下课以后，教堂的大钟一反往日的样子，发出的是报丧的声音。
这个星期天，镇上显得十分宁静，报丧的钟声似乎与笼罩着大地的寂静很协调。村里的人开
始聚集在一起，在走廊里逗留了一小会儿，低声谈论着这件惨案。可是教堂里除了女人们走
向座位时衣服发出凄惨的沙沙声外却没有人窃窃私语。谁也记不起这个小小的教堂从前什么
时候也像今天这样座无虚席。后来教堂里鸦雀无声，大家静心等候了一阵才见波莉姨妈走了
进来，后面跟着希德和玛丽；过了一会哈帕一家也进来了，他们都穿着深黑色的衣服。这时
全场起立，连年迈的牧师也不例外。大家都恭恭敬敬地站着一直等到刚进来的那些人在前排
就座后这才坐下来。接着又是一阵默哀，间歇着传来一阵阵哽噎住的抽泣声。然后牧师摊开
双手，做了祷告。人们唱了一首震撼人心的圣歌，之后又念了一段颂词：“我是生命，复活
是我。”丧礼上，
    牧师描述了死者的美德和他们讨人喜欢的行为，以及非凡的前途。在座的人个个都暗自
承认他说得对，他们以前真是有眼无珠，居然对这些熟视无睹，反倒死盯着这些可怜孩子的
过错和毛病不放，心里不免感到难过。牧师还讲述了这几个孩子生前的一些感人事迹，他们
天真可爱，慷慨大方。人们现在一眼就看出他们那时的行为是多么地高尚，令人赞美。可当
时这些却被认为是地道的流氓行为，人们恨不得用鞭子抽这些孩子。想到这一切，人们很难
过。牧师越说越动情，在场的人也越听越受感动，都呜咽起来。牧师本人也控制不住自己的
感情在布道台上哭起来。
    教堂的长廊里响起一阵沙沙声，可是没有人听见。不久，教堂的门嘎吱一声开了，牧师
拿开手绢，抬起泪汪汪的眼睛，站在那里呆住了！于是一双又一双的眼睛顺着牧师的视线看
过去，接着全体到会者一下子都站起来，睁大眼睛看着死而复活的这三个孩子沿着过道大踏
步走过来。走在前面的是汤姆，乔在中间，哈克殿后。他们刚才一直躲在那没人的长廊里，
倾听着追悼他们的颂词哩！
    波莉姨姨、玛丽，还有哈帕一家都一下子向这几个复活的孩子扑过去，把他们吻得透不
过气来，同时倾吐了许多感恩戴德的话。而可怜的哈克却站在那里，窘迫不安，很不自在，
不知道该如何是好，也不知道逃到哪里才能躲开这些不表示欢迎自己的眼光。他犹豫了一
下，正打算溜走，可是汤姆抓住他，说道：
    “波莉姨妈，这不公平，哈克也该受人欢迎才对。”“是的，说得有道理，我就欢迎
他。他没有母亲真可怜！”
    波莉姨妈的亲切关怀，反倒使他变得更加不自在。忽然牧师放开嗓音，高唱起来：“赞
美上帝，保佑众生——
    唱！——大家尽情地唱呀！”
    大家果然热情地唱了起来。人们以饱满的热情，大声唱起了颂歌，歌声回荡在教堂上
空。海盗汤姆·索亚向四周张望，发现周围的伙伴们都在羡慕他，心中暗自承认，这是他平
生最得意的时刻。
    当那些“受骗”的参加葬礼的人成群结对地走出教堂时，大家都说要是能像今天这样热
情地唱颂歌，情愿再被捉弄一次。
    那一天，汤姆不是挨耳光就是受亲吻，这全随波莉姨妈的心情变化而定。他从前一年所
受的加起来也没有今天一天的多。他简直搞不清哪一种表示是对上帝的感激，哪一种是对他
的爱