and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet

doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt

bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his

slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull

and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings,

"It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!"

Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from

home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore

he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources

together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under

one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded

hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively:

"What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!"

Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it

up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides

were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless!

He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said:

Well, that beats anything!"

Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The

truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and

all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer