{"id":"01KG16RAYA8PY813879586Y4WQ","cid":"bafkreiddqg7v2nnrbr7wgu2sg3o53b2a6bkxlpsmgxyxwnmy7rbxnrp5ku","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":1767,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T02:26:09.275Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","start_line":1710,"text":"After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into\r\na bulletin-board, and read off “notices” of meetings and societies and\r\nthings till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of\r\ndoom—a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities,\r\naway here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there is\r\nto justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it.\r\n\r\nAnd now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went\r\ninto details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the\r\nchurch; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself;\r\nfor the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United\r\nStates; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the\r\nPresident; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed\r\nby stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of\r\nEuropean monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light\r\nand the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear\r\nwithal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed with\r\na supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace\r\nand favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a\r\ngrateful harvest of good. Amen.\r\n\r\nThere was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat down.\r\nThe boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, he\r\nonly endured it—if he even did that much. He was restive all through it;\r\nhe kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously—for he was not\r\nlistening, but he knew the ground of old, and the clergyman’s regular\r\nroute over it—and when a little trifle of new matter was interlarded,\r\nhis ear detected it and his whole nature resented it; he considered\r\nadditions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the midst of the prayer a fly had\r\nlit on the back of the pew in front of him and tortured his spirit by\r\ncalmly rubbing its hands together, embracing its head with its arms, and\r\npolishing it so vigorously that it seemed to almost part company with\r\nthe body, and the slender thread of a neck was exposed to view; scraping\r\nits wings with its hind legs and smoothing them to its body as if they\r\nhad been coat-tails; going through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if\r\nit knew it was perfectly safe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom’s\r\nhands itched to grab for it they did not dare—he believed his soul would\r\nbe instantly destroyed if he did such a thing while the prayer was going\r\non. But with the closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal\r\nforward; and the instant the “Amen” was out the fly was a prisoner of\r\nwar. His aunt detected the act and made him let it go.\r\n\r\nThe minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through an\r\nargument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod—and\r\nyet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone and\r\nthinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be hardly\r\nworth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; after church he\r\nalways knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew anything\r\nelse about the discourse. However, this time he was really interested\r\nfor a little while. The minister made a grand and moving picture of the\r\nassembling together of the world’s hosts at the millennium when the lion\r\nand the lamb should lie down together and a little child should lead\r\nthem. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of the great spectacle\r\nwere lost upon the boy; he only thought of the conspicuousness of the\r\nprincipal character before the on-looking nations; his face lit with the\r\nthought, and he said to himself that he wished he could be that child,\r\nif it was a tame lion.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG16PT8WAEG9GJHF59RJ3YJ9","peer_label":"CHAPTER V","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","peer_label":"tom_sawyer.txt","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KFXT0KM64XT6K8W52TDEE0YS","peer_label":"More Classics","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG16RAXQ609H0KTFP99ZN094","peer_label":"Chunk 1","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG16RAYGH6XM2T067QYEBCFJ","peer_label":"Chunk 3","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T02:26:09.664Z","ts":"2026-01-28T02:26:10.529Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}