Tom knew his aunt wanted to catch him in a lie so he said, "Ma'am, I was so hot today that I dumped water from the well on my head. See, my hair is still wet."
Aunt Polly was annoyed that she had overlooked Tom's wet hair. "He skipped school again," she thought. She decided to use her secret weapon; before school each morning she sewed Tom's collar shut with thread. "Tom, show me your shirt collar," said Aunt Polly sternly. If he had taken off his shirt to go swimming, she would see the broken thread and know!
Aunt Polly was really surprised because the collar was still sewn shut. "Tom, I'm sorry I suspected you of skipping school today. It appears that I was wrong," said Aunt Polly.
Tom accepted her apology gracefully. He was just about to leave when Sid said, "Didn't you sew Tom's collar with white thread this morning? Look here." He pointed at Tom's shirt. "Tom's collar is sewn with black thread."
"Why, yes, I did sew it with white thread today," said Aunt Polly thoughtfully, and then her face changed. It turned red, her glasses slipped to the tip of her nose, and she screamed, "Boy, that's it!"
Tom turned to Sid and said menacingly. "I'll beat you good for that!" he growled. Not wanting to hear what his punishment would be, he ran out the door.
"I'll have to punish him tomorrow," said Aunt Polly to herself. "I'll make him work. He hates work, but I've got to teach him a lesson."
Tom sat down under a tree. In the fading light, he examined the two needles he kept under the front collar of his shirt. One needle had white thread and the other had black.
"Aunt Polly never would have noticed the thread, if it hadn't been for Sid," moaned Tom. "Darn it. I bet she'll make me work tomorrow, and tomorrow is Saturday." Tom was in a foul mood. He spent the rest of the evening planning his revenge on Sid.
The next day Tom stood on the sidewalk with a paint bucket and a brush. He looked at the fence. It was ninety feet long and nine feet high, and he had to spend his whole Saturday painting it. He dipped his brush into the bucket and painted the first plank. Then he stopped. "This will take forever." He sighed.
Suddenly Tom saw his friend Ben coming down the street. Tom picked up the brush and began painting again because he had a plan.
Ben walked up to Tom. "Working, huh? I'm going swimming. Don't you wish you could come?"
"I'm not working," replied Tom.
"Yes, you are," said Ben.
"Well, maybe it is working, but I like it," said Tom.
"What?" shouted Ben. "You like it?"
Tom kept painting, and said, "Boys don't get to paint a fence every day."
Ben watched Tom paint for a while. The fence looked clean and white. Ben watched some more, and soon he started to think, "Painting looks easy. Painting looks fun." Before long Ben really wanted to paint too!
"Let me try," he begged Tom.
"No," said Tom. "Aunt Polly told me to do it. She said it was important. This is the street side of the fence. Only one boy in a thousand has the talent to paint the street side." Tom paused and pretended to think for a moment. "Maybe you can do the back side," he said.
"I'll let you have my apple," Ben offered. Tom looked at Ben, and then he looked at the apple. He handed Ben the brush. While Ben painted, Tom rested in the shade. He ate the apple and smiled. His plan had worked.
Soon other boys came and asked to paint too. By early afternoon both sides of the fence were finished, and Tom's pockets were full of presents.
"May I play now?" Tom called to his aunt.
"You can't be finished already! How much of the fence have you painted?" she asked.
"All of it. Come and see," said Tom.
"Don't you lie to me—," began Aunt Polly. Just then she spotted the freshly painted fence. She was so pleased with its clean appearance, she gave Tom a shiny red apple. Then she sent him off to play.