Excerpt from WHITEWASHING A FENCE (Mark Twain)
Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: “What do you call work?”
“Why, ain’t THAT work?”
Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: “Well, maybe it is, and maybe it
ain’t. All I know, is it suits Tom Sawyer.”
“Oh come, now, you don’t mean to let on that you LIKE it?”
The brush continued to move.
“Like it? Well, I don’t see why I oughtn’t to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a
fence every day?” That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom
swept his brush daintily back and forth—stepped back to note the effect—added a touch
here and there—criticized the effect again—Ben watching every move and getting more
and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:
“Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little.”
Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:
“No—no—I reckon it wouldn’t hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly’s awful particular about
this fence—right here on the street, you know—but if it was the back fence I wouldn’t mind and SHE wouldn’t.
Yes, she’s awful particular about this fence; it’s got to be done very careful; I reckon there ain’t one boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it the way it’s got to be done.”
“No—is that so? Oh come now—lemme just try. Only just a little—I’d let YOU, if you was
me, Tom.”
“Ben, I’d like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly—well, Jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn’t
let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn’t let Sid. Now don’t you see how I’m fixed? If
you was to tackle this fence and anything was to happen to it—”
“Oh, shucks, I’ll be just
as careful. Now lemme try. Say—I’ll give you the core of my apple.”
“Well, here—No, Ben, now don’t. I’m afeard—”
“I’ll give you ALL of it!”
