Chapter 7 Chapter 5 Adding tricks to the week, the pincer beetle playing with the puppy

At about 10:30, the broken bell of the chapel began to ring, and everyone gathered to hear the morning sermon.The Sunday-school children sat in church with their parents, so that they might supervise them.Aunt Polly came, and Tom, Sid, and Mary sat down beside her.Tom was seated near the aisle, as far as possible from the open windows and the inviting summer scene outside.People flocked down the aisles: the poor old postmaster who had lived a good life; There's the magistrate; there's the widow Douglas, she's about forty, small and pretty, generous, generous and good-natured, well off, and her house on the hill is the only pretty one in town Sophisticated, worthy of the name, she was the most hospitable and benevolent person that St. Petersburg towns were proud of on festival days; there was the hunchbacked, venerable Major Ward and his wife; And Lawyer Wilson, a new guest from afar.And below that came the great beauty of the town, followed by a host of unrequited young girls in linen and ribbons.After them came all the young clerks and clerks of the town, rushing in--they turned out to be a bunch of ecstatic admirers, all standing at first on the porch, sucking their fingers, Stand there like a wall until the last girl comes out of their circle.The last to come in was Willie Moffson, the model boy of the village, who took care of his mother as if she were a fragile piece of cut glass.He always led his mother to church, and the other mothers were proud.And the boys hated him because he was too clever and obedient.Besides, he was often praised by people, which made them feel embarrassed.His white handkerchief was draped over the outside of his hip pocket, even on Sundays—except for the occasional one.Tom had no handkerchiefs, and he despised the children who had them as posturing snobs.

After all the preachers arrived, the big bell rang again to remind those who were late and those who were running around outside.There was a solemn silence in the church, broken only by some murmurs of laughter and talking in the choir in the side pews, and there were whispers and murmurs of laughter in the choir throughout the sermon. .There used to be a choir that wasn't so rude, but I forget where it was.It was so many years ago that I have almost no recollection of those things, but I think it must have been in a foreign country. The pastor took out the lyrics of praising the Lord that everyone was going to sing, and recited it with relish. His special accent is very popular in that area.His volume first started from the alto, gradually increased, until he reached the highest pitched word, emphasized a bit, and then suddenly decreased as if jumping off a springboard:

Others are fighting bloody battles for meritorious service in the battlefield How can I sleep in a flower bed and dream into heaven Everyone agreed that his recitation was wonderful and wonderful.At the "party" of the church, he is often invited to recite poems to everyone. Whenever he finishes reading, the women will raise their hands, then drop their hands limply and put them on their knees, "turning around" She squinted her eyes and shook her head, as if to say: "This is simply indescribable, it is so beautiful, such a beautiful voice is really rare in this ordinary world."

After singing the hymn, the Reverend Mr. Sprague turned himself into a bulletin board and started announcing things like meetings and group announcements, and he went on and on, as if he had to talk if he wanted to announce something. Going on and on till the thunderbolt of the end of the world--a strange habit still preserved in America, even in the cities where the newspapers abound today.Often the less reason a traditional custom exists, the more difficult it is to eliminate it. Then the pastor prayed.This is a good, rich prayer, and it does everything: it prays for the church and the children in it; it prays for the county; Pray for the tens of thousands of toiling people who are forced to groan under the iron heels of European monarchy and oriental despotism; pray for those who have the light and gospel of the leader but have turned a blind eye and turned a deaf ear; pray for those heretics on distant islands Pray for blessings; finally, the pastor prayed to God to grant his words, hoping that his words, like seeds sown in fertile land, will bear fruit and bring endless blessings.Amen.

Those who stood sat down with a rustle of clothes.The hero of this book doesn't appreciate the prayer, he just suffers, and that's fine if he can bear it.He has been restless during the prayer process.He recorded the details of the prayers, but he did so unconsciously—because he didn’t listen, but he was familiar with the old tunes that the pastor used to play, the usual statements—every time a little new content was added to the prayers, His ears could tell right away, and he was uncomfortable all over.He thought it was too inappropriate to add it, it was not above board, it was just playing a scoundrel.In the middle of the prayer, a fly landed on the back of the seat in front of him. It rubbed its legs without haste, put its arms around its head, and rubbed it vigorously. It seems to be separated from the body, the neck is as thin as a thread, and it can be seen clearly when it is exposed.It fiddled with its hind legs and drew them flat against its body, as if they were the backs of its dress; safe.The fly's playfulness made Tom very sick.The little thing was safe indeed, for when Tom moved slowly to grab it with itching hands, he stopped again, and he dared not—he believed that to do such things while saying prayers, his soul immediately will be destroyed.However, when he reached the last sentence of the prayer, he bowed his hands and quietly leaned towards the fly. As soon as he said "Amen", the fly became a prisoner.His aunt told him to let the fly go when he found out.

The preacher announced the passages from the Bible quoted in the sermon, and then proceeded with a tedious sermon, so prosaic that many gradually bowed their heads and dozed off—his sermons covered innumerable various The various punishments in hell make people feel that there are really very few people who are eligible to be chosen by God to enter heaven, and they are hardly worth saving.Tom counted the pages of the prayers, and after the service he could always tell the pages of the pastor's scriptures, but he knew very little about the contents.This time, however, it was different: he was really interested in the content.The pastor painted a splendid and moving picture: the peoples of the world gathered together during the millennium, the lion and the lamb lying together, led by a child.But the great spectacle did not move Tom at all. He was concerned with the striking air of its characters in front of thousands of people.Thinking of this, his face showed joy.He secretly thought that if the lion was tame and would not eat people, he would very much like to be the child.

When the pastor continued to preach dullly, Tom fell into pain again.Immediately he remembered one of his treasures, and quickly took it out.It was a big black beetle with a horribly long jaw--the pincer beetle he called it.This beetle is contained in a detonator tube.As soon as it was released, it bit Tom's finger.He flicked his fingers naturally, and the beetle rolled into the aisle, on its back, flicking its legs helplessly, unable to turn over.Tom put the bitten finger in his mouth, and looked at the pincer beetle eagerly, trying to catch it back, but he couldn't reach it.The others, not interested in the preacher's sermon, entertained themselves with the beetle, and they too stared at it.At this time, a wandering poodle came lazily, depressed, and looked lazy in the leisurely summer day. It was tired of staying in the house and wanted to come out for a change of environment.It spotted the beetle at a glance, and immediately raised its hanging tail, shaking it.It looked at the captive, walked around it, smelled it from a distance, walked around it again, gradually became more courageous, and smelled it again.It opened its mouth and tried to bite it carefully, but it didn't bite.So it tried it again and again, and gradually felt that it was very happy, so it put its belly on the ground, blocked the beetle with its two feet, and continued to tease it.At last it got bored, its jaw lowered little by little, and it bit its opponent as soon as it touched it.The poodle gave a shriek and shook his head violently, so that the beetle was thrown a yard or two, onto its back.The spectators in the neighboring seats laughed with a kind of lighthearted delight in their hearts, and some of them hid their faces with fans and handkerchiefs, to Tom's delight.The dog looked silly, and maybe he thought so, but he held a grudge and was determined to get revenge.So it approached the beetle again, and cautiously began to attack it again.It circled around it, pounced on it every chance it had, its front paws were within a foot of the beetle, and then leaned in to bite it with its teeth, so busy that it nodded its head and flapped its ears up and down.But, after a while, it got bored again.It wanted to use a fly to open up the smell, but it still couldn't relieve the boredom; then, with its nose on the ground, it followed an ant, and soon yawned and sighed again, completely forgetting about the beetle. Sit down on the beetle.Then, the dog was heard screaming in pain, and it was seen running fast down the aisle.It kept barking, kept running, ran across the front of the altar, and ran into the aisle on the other side.It ran out from the gate again, and ran to the last stretch of runway next to the gate. As it ran forward, the pain became more and more unbearable, and then it became a fluffy comet, shining brightly, in its orbit at the speed of light running on.At last the poodle, mad with pain, crossed the runway and jumped into the arms of its owner; the owner grabbed it and threw it out of the window. .

At this moment, all the people in the church were flushed and breathless from trying not to laugh, and the sermons stopped abruptly, and there was silence.Then the pastor began to preach again, hesitating and his voice was out of tune, and it was impossible to attract attention anyway, because even if what he said was serious, there was always a burst of disrespectful laughter behind the back seats It came, as if the poor man had just said something ridiculous.When the people finally finished suffering and the pastor blessed them, the whole audience couldn't help but feel a burst of relief.

Tom Sawyer went home in good spirits.It would be fun, he thought, to add a little variety to church.The fly in the ointment is: he would have let the dog play with the pincer beetle, but it ran away with the beetle, which is not enough of a friend.