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His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. This boy was well-dressed, too-well-dressed on a weekday. A newcomer of any age or either sex was an impressive curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. A stranger was before him-a boy a shade larger than himself. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet-no doubt, as far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer. Diligence and attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his soul full of gratitude.
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It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short intervals in the midst of the music-the reader probably remembers how to do it, if he has ever been a boy. This new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquired, and he was suffering to practice it undisturbed. Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore them down and drove them out of his mind for the time-just as men's misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. Adapted from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain (1876)