Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in for a dead rat and a string to swing it with — and so on, and so on, hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being a poor poverty—stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jew 's—harp, a piece of blue bottle glass to look through, a spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six firecrackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a dog collar — but no dog — the handle of a knife, four pieces of orange peel, and a dilapidated old window sash. 汤姆把刷子让给本，脸上摆出一副不情愿，可心里却巴不得呢。当刚才那只 “大密苏里号” 在大太阳底下干活，累得大汗淋漓的时候，这位退了休的艺术家却在附近的阴凉下，坐在一只木桶上，晃悠着腿，一边大口大口地吃着苹果，一边算计着怎么再宰更多的傻瓜。这样的傻瓜可不少。每过一会儿，就有些男孩子路过。起先他们都想来开开玩笑，结果都留下来刷栅栏了。在本累得筋疲力尽时，汤姆早已经和比利·费施做好了交易。比利用一个修得很好的风筝换来接替本的机会。等到比利也玩得差不多的时候，詹尼·米勒用一只死老鼠和拴着它的小绳子购买了这个特权——一个又一个的傻小子受骗上了当，好几个钟头都是如此。下午快过了一半的时候，汤姆早上还是个穷困潦倒的穷小子，现在实际上已经富得流油了。除了刚才提到的那些玩意儿，还有十二颗石头子、一段儿破口琴、一块透明的蓝玻璃片、一门线轴做的大炮、一把什么锁也不开的钥匙、一截粉笔、一个大酒瓶塞子、一个锡皮做的小兵、一对蝌蚪、六个鞭炮、一只独眼小猫、一个门上的铜把手、一根拴狗的颈圈——却没有狗——一个刀把、四片桔子皮，还有一个破烂的窗框。
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