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Las aventuras de Tom Sawyer
Capítulo 17, Página 2
But
that
bid
for
glory
was
a
failure.
Most
of
the
boys
could
say
that,
and
so
that
cheapened
the
distinction
too
much.
The
group
loitered
away,
still
recalling
memories
of
the
lost
heroes,
in
awed
voices.
When
the
Sunday-school
hour
was
finished,
the
next
morning,
the
bell
began
to
toll,
instead
of
ringing
in
the
usual
way.
It
was
a
very
still
Sabbath,
and
the
mournful
sound
seemed
in
keeping
with
the
musing
hush
that
lay
upon
nature.
The
villagers
began
to
gather,
loitering
a
moment
in
the
vestibule
to
converse
in
whispers
about
the
sad
event.
But
there
was
no
whispering
in
the
house;
only
the
funereal
rustling
of
dresses
as
the
women
gathered
to
their
seats
disturbed
the
silence
there.
None
could
remember
when
the
little
church
had
been
so
full
before.
There
was
finally
a
waiting
pause,
an
expectant
dumbness,
and
then
Aunt
Polly
entered,
followed
by
Sid
and
Mary,
and
they
by
the
Harper
family,
all
in
deep
black,
and
the
whole
congregation,
the
old
minister
as
well,
rose
reverently
and
stood
until
the
mourners
were
seated
in
the
front
pew.
There
was
another
communing
silence,
broken
at
intervals
by
muffled
sobs,
and
then
the
minister
spread
his
hands
abroad
and
prayed.
A
moving
hymn
was
sung,
and
the
text
followed:
“I
am
the
Resurrection
and
the
Life.”
As
the
service
proceeded,
the
clergyman
drew
such
pictures
of
the
graces,
the
winning
ways,
and
the
rare
promise
of
the
lost
lads
that
every
soul
there,
thinking
he
recognized
these
pictures,
felt
a
pang
in
remembering
that
he
had
persistently
blinded
himself
to
them
always
before,
and
had
as
persistently
seen
only
faults
and
flaws
in
the
poor
boys.
The
minister
related
many
a
touching
incident
in
the
lives
of
the
departed,
too,
which
illustrated
their
sweet,
generous
natures,
and
the
people
could
easily
see,
now,
how
noble
and
beautiful
those
episodes
were,
and
remembered
with
grief
that
at
the
time
they
occurred
they
had
seemed
rank
rascalities,
well
deserving
of
the
cowhide.
The
congregation
became
more
and
more
moved,
as
the
pathetic
tale
went
on,
till
at
last
the
whole
company
broke
down
and
joined
the
weeping
mourners
in
a
chorus
of
anguished
sobs,
the
preacher
himself
giving
way
to
his
feelings,
and
crying
in
the
pulpit.
There
was
a
rustle
in
the
gallery,
which
nobody
noticed;
a
moment
later
the
church
door
creaked;
the
minister
raised
his
streaming
eyes
above
his
handkerchief,
and
stood
transfixed!
First
one
and
then
another
pair
of
eyes
followed
the
minister’s,
and
then
almost
with
one
impulse
the
congregation
rose
and
stared
while
the
three
dead
boys
came
marching
up
the
aisle,
Tom
in
the
lead,
Joe
next,
and
Huck,
a
ruin
of
drooping
rags,
sneaking
sheepishly
in
the
rear!
They
had
been
hid
in
the
unused
gallery
listening
to
their
own
funeral
sermon!
Aunt
Polly,
Mary,
and
the
Harpers
threw
themselves
upon
their
restored
ones,
smothered
them
with
kisses
and
poured
out
thanksgivings,
while
poor
Huck
stood
abashed
and
uncomfortable,
not
knowing
exactly
what
to
do
or
where
to
hide
from
so
many
unwelcoming
eyes.
He
wavered,
and
started
to
slink
away,
but
Tom
seized
him
and
said:
“Aunt
Polly,
it
ain’t
fair.
Somebody’s
got
to
be
glad
to
see
Huck.”
“And
so
they
shall.
I’m
glad
to
see
him,
poor
motherless
thing!”
And
the
loving
attentions
Aunt
Polly
lavished
upon
him
were
the
one
thing
capable
of
making
him
more
uncomfortable
than
he
was
before.
Suddenly
the
minister
shouted
at
the
top
of
his
voice:
“Praise
God
from
whom
all
blessings
flow—sing!—and
put
your
hearts
in
it!”
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Las aventuras de Tom Sawyer — C1 Inglés | Cuentana