Life On The Mississippi By Mark Twain




















































































































































 -   And
although Tom Holmes says more bad words than any other boy in the
village, he probably intends to repent - Page 230
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And Although Tom Holmes Says More Bad Words Than Any Other Boy In The Village, He Probably Intends To Repent - Though He Has Never Said He Would.

And whilst it is a fact that John Jones did fish a little on Sunday, once, he didn't really

Catch anything but only just one small useless mud-cat; and maybe that wouldn't have been so awful if he had thrown it back - as he says he did, but he didn't. Pity but they would repent of these dreadful things - and maybe they will yet.'

But while I was shamefully trying to draw attention to these poor chaps - who were doubtless directing the celestial attention to me at the same moment, though I never once suspected that - I had heedlessly left my candle burning. It was not a time to neglect even trifling precautions. There was no occasion to add anything to the facilities for attracting notice to me - so I put the light out.

It was a long night to me, and perhaps the most distressful one I ever spent. I endured agonies of remorse for sins which I knew I had committed, and for others which I was not certain about, yet was sure that they had been set down against me in a book by an angel who was wiser than I and did not trust such important matters to memory. It struck me, by and by, that I had been making a most foolish and calamitous mistake, in one respect: doubtless I had not only made my own destruction sure by directing attention to those other boys, but had already accomplished theirs! - Doubtless the lightning had stretched them all dead in their beds by this time! The anguish and the fright which this thought gave me made my previous sufferings seem trifling by comparison.

Things had become truly serious. I resolved to turn over a new leaf instantly; I also resolved to connect myself with the church the next day, if I survived to see its sun appear. I resolved to cease from sin in all its forms, and to lead a high and blameless life for ever after. I would be punctual at church and Sunday-school; visit the sick; carry baskets of victuals to the poor (simply to fulfil the regulation conditions, although I knew we had none among us so poor but they would smash the basket over my head for my pains); I would instruct other boys in right ways, and take the resulting trouncings meekly; I would subsist entirely on tracts; I would invade the rum shop and warn the drunkard - and finally, if I escaped the fate of those who early become too good to live, I would go for a missionary.

The storm subsided toward daybreak, and I dozed gradually to sleep with a sense of obligation to Lem Hackett for going to eternal suffering in that abrupt way, and thus preventing a far more dreadful disaster - my own loss.

But when I rose refreshed, by and by, and found that those other boys were still alive, I had a dim sense that perhaps the whole thing was a false alarm; that the entire turmoil had been on Lem's account and nobody's else.

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