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1One of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret troubles was, that it had found a new and weighty
2matter to interest itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had struggled with his pride a few
3days, and tried to "whistle her down the wind," but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father's house,
4nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she should die! There was distraction in the thought. He no
5longer took an interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone; there was nothing but dreariness left.
6He put his hoop away, and his bat; there was no joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began to try all
7manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who are infatuated with patent medicines and all new-fangled
8methods of producing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in these things. When something fresh in
9this line came out she was in a fever, right away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never ailing, but on anybody
10else that came handy. She was a subscriber for all the "Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds; and the solemn
11ignorance they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they contained about ventilation, and how to
12go to bed, and how to get up, and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take, and what frame of mind
13to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing to wear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that her
14health-journals of the current month customarily upset everything they had recommended the month before. She was as
15simple-hearted and honest as the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gathered together her quack
16periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed with death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking,
17with "hell following after." But she never suspected that she was not an angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in
18disguise, to the suffering neighbors. The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a windfall to her.
19She had him out at daylight every morning, stood him up in the wood-shed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water;
20then she scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to; then she rolled him up in a wet sheet and
21put him away under blankets till she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came through his pores"--as Tom
22said. Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy and pale and dejected. She added hot baths,
23sitz baths, shower baths, and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to assist the water with a slim
24oatmeal diet and blister-plasters. She calculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up every day with
25quack cure-alls. Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase filled the old lady's heart with
26consternation. This indifference must be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the first time. She
27ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the
28water treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain-killer. She gave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with
29the deepest anxiety for the result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again; for the "indifference"
30was broken up. The boy could not have shown a wilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him. Tom felt
31that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting
32to have too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he thought over various plans for relief, and
33finally hit upon that of professing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that he became a nuisance, and
34his aunt ended by telling him to help himself and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no
35misgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine
36did really diminish, but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a crack in the sitting-room
37floor with it. One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow cat came along, purring, eyeing the
38teaspoon avariciously, and begging for a taste. Tom said: "Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter." But Peter
39signified that he did want it. "You better make sure." Peter was sure. "Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to
40you, because there ain't anything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't blame anybody but your
41own self." Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the Pain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of
42yards in the air, and then delivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, banging against furniture,
43upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc. Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of
44enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming his unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing
45around the house again spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time to see him throw a few
46double summersets, deliver a final mighty hurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the flower-pots
47with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, peering over her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with
48laughter. "Tom, what on earth ails that cat?" "I don't know, aunt," gasped the boy. "Why, I never see anything like it.
49What did make him act so?" "Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're having a good time." "They
50do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom apprehensive. "Yes'm. That is, I believe they do." "You do?"
51"Yes'm." The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized by anxiety. Too late he divined her
52"drift." The handle of the telltale tea-spoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held it up. Tom
53winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the usual handle--his ear--and cracked his head soundly with her
54thimble. "Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?" "I done it out of pity for him--because he
55hadn't any aunt." "Hadn't any aunt!--you numskull. What has that got to do with it?" "Heaps. Because if he'd had one
56she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd a roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a human!"
57Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing in a new light; what was cruelty to a cat might be
58cruelty to a boy, too. She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, and she put her hand on Tom's
59head and said gently: "I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it did do you good." Tom looked up in her face with
60just a perceptible twinkle peeping through his gravity. "I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with
61Peter. It done him good, too. I never see him get around so since--" "Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate
62me again. And you try and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take any more medicine."
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