Original Illustrated Version By Mark Twain

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"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll—"
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 resurrected nothing but the cat. " I never did see the beat of that boy! "
She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So she
lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for dis­tance, and shouted: x "Y-o-u-u Tom
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.
" There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in there ? " " Nothing."
" Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at Iyour mouth. What is that truck? "
"I don't know, aunt."
" Well, I know. It's jam—that's what it is. Forty times I've said if you didn't let tljat jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch."
The switch hovered in the air—the peril was desperate—
" My! Look behind you, aunt! "
The old lady whirled round, and snatched her
skirts out of danger. The lad fled, on the
instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and
disappeared over it.
His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle laugh.
"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