Tom and Jerry's Giant Adventure torrents - Tom and Jerry are the faithful servants of Jack, the owner of a struggling storybook amusement park that gets a much-needed boost thanks to some mysterious magical beans. Tom & Jerry Kids 1990. TORRENT download. Download 6 Files download 6 Original. IN COLLECTIONS.
The producing/directing pair would undergo a major renaissance in the 1990s, becoming figureheads for the Cartoon Network channel, finally coming full circle by directing their first short in over 30 years. Naturally, it was an old school-styled Tom And Jerry special! In finishing this particular set, and not having seen the entire Esther Williams film itself, I found that the final clip of Dangerous When Wet sequence worked very well on its own, having its own natural beginning and end, and wrapped up this second collection of Hanna-Barbera MGM material with class and style.
"I'm awfully sorry," said Ned Gaynor earnestly, "but it isn't as though youhad been blackballed, Jerry.""I don't see what difference it makes," replied Gerald Huttondisconsolately. "I don't get taken in, do I?""No, but when a fellow's name is 'postponed' he can try again any time. Ifhe's blackballed, he's a goner until next year.""Oh, well, I don't want to join the old Lyceum, anyhow," said his roommatewith a scowl."Yes, you do," responded Ned, "and I want you to. And I'm going to bringyour name up again just as soon as I think there's a chance of getting youelected.""When will that be?" asked Jerry dubiously. Ned hesitated."I don't just know, Jerry," he answered finally. "You see, it's like this;the Lyceum is the only society we have here at Winthrop, and it's small,only thirty members, you know, while there are over seventy fellows inschool this year. So of course there are lots of chaps who want to get in.And when it comes to selecting members the society naturally tries to getthe best.""Which means I'm not one of the best," said Jerry with a grin."No, it doesn't," replied his roommate. "It just means that you aren't verywell known yet; you haven't proved yourself.""Shucks! I've been here ever since school opened in September, and I knowalmost every fellow here to speak to.""Well, but that isn't quite what I mean," replied Ned. "You--you haven'tproved yourself.""What do you mean by 'proved myself'?" asked Jerry."Well, you haven't done anything to--to show what you are. I can't explainvery well, but--""What the dickens do you want me to do? Burn down Academy Hall or chuck oneof the Faculty in the river?" inquired Jerry sarcastically."Oh, you know what I mean," answered Ned a trifle impatiently. "Sooner orlater a fellow does something worth while, like getting a scholarship ormaking the Eleven or the Baseball Team. Then he's proved himself. You'vebeen here only half a year, and, of course, yon haven't made yourselfknown.""I've done my best," replied Jerry disconsolately. "I worked like a slavefor two weeks trying to get on the Football Team, and I almost broke myneck learning to skate well enough so I'd have a show for the Hockey Team.""Maybe you'll make the Nine," said Ned hopefully. "I guess if you do thatthere won't be any trouble about the Lyceum.""I'll never get on the Nine while Herb Welch is captain," said Jerry with ashake of his head. "He doesn't care for me much.""Well, I guess that's so," answered Ned thoughtfully. "The fact is, Jerry,it was Herb who objected to your election to the Lyceum.""I guessed as much," Jerry replied dryly. "I knew he'd keep me out if hecould. Just as he will keep me off the Nine.""Oh, come now, Herb isn't that bad. He's sort of rough and bossy, but he'sstraight, Jerry. He was very decent at the election. He simply said--""I don't want to hear what he said," interrupted Jerry peevishly. "He's abig bully. He's hated me ever since I interfered the time he was duckingyoung Gordon. Gordon couldn't swim, and he was so scared that his face wasas white as that block of paper.""Well, it was pretty cheeky for a Sophomore to lay down the law to aSenior, you know," said Ned."And it was pretty mean of a Senior to haze a Freshman, wasn't it?" Jerrydemanded. "Anyhow, I spoiled his fun for him.""And got ducked yourself," laughed the other."That was all right. I could swim and wasn't afraid. I was better able totake it than young Gordon was. Ever since then Welch has had it in for me.I dare say that if I went and licked his boots he'd let me into the Lyceumand give me a fair show for the Nine, but I'm not going to do it. I canplay baseball, and I'd like to make the team, but if it depends on mytoadying to Welch, why, I'll stay off, that's all.""Oh, come now, it isn't as bad as that," responded Ned. "Don't you bother.I'll get you elected before Class Day, Jerry. Grab your skates and come ondown to the river.""Skates!" exclaimed Jerry. "Why, you can't skate to-day. The ice is allbreaking up. Look at it!"From the dormitory window the river was visible for a quarter of a mile asit curved slowly to the south between Winthrop Academy and the town bridge.It was late February, and for two days the mercury had lingered aroundfifty degrees. Along the nearest shore the ice still held, but in midstreamand across by the Peterboro side the river, swollen by melting snow andice, flowed in a turbid, ice-strewn torrent. For a while at noon the sunhad shone, but now, at four o'clock, the clouds had gathered and the moistair coming in at the open window of the room suggested rain."There's plenty of ice along this bank," answered Ned cheerfully, "and asit may be the last chance I'll get to skate I'm going to make the most ofit. I promised Tom Thurber and Herb Welch I'd meet them at four. I must geta move on." He closed the book before him and arose from the study table."You'd better come along, Jerry."But Jerry shook his head, staring moodily out over the dreary prospect ofwet campus and slushy road. A mile away the little town of Peterboro laystraggling along the river, the chimneys of its three or four factoriesspouting thick black smoke into the heavy air. Jerry was disappointed. Itmeant a good deal to win election to the Lyceum, and, in spite of what hehad told Ned, he had all along entertained a sneaking idea that he wouldmake it, Welch or no Welch. He wondered whether Ned couldn't have got himin if he had tried real hard. Ned and he were very good friends, eventhough they had never met until they had been roomed together in the fall,but Jerry was a new boy still, while Ned was a Junior and had known HerbWelch three years."I suppose," he thought, "Ned didn't want to offend Welch. Much he careswhether I'm elected or not!""Coming?" asked Ned, pausing at the door. Jerry shook his head."No, I guess not. I think I'll walk over to town and get some things.""Well, buy me half a dozen blue books, will you?" asked Ned eagerly. Hetossed a coin across and Jerry caught it deftly and dropped it into hispocket with a nod. Ned slammed the door behind him and went clatteringdownstairs. Jerry watched him emerge below, jump a miniature rivuletflowing beside the board walk and disappear around the corner of thedormitory. Then he got into his sweater, put his cap on, and in turndescended the stairs.It was a good twenty-minutes walk to the village. By keeping along theriver path to the bridge he might have saved something in time anddistance, but the river path was ankle-deep in slush and mud, while theroad, although longer, gave firmer foothold. When he reached the old woodenbridge he paused and watched the water rushing under between the stonepillars. He had never seen the stream so high. The surface appearedscarcely eight feet beneath the floor of the bridge. Huge cakes of ice,broken loose upstream, went tearing by, grinding against each other andhurling themselves at the worn stones. And between the fragments of ice thesurface was almost covered with a layer of slush. Jerry flattened himselfagainst the wooden railing while a team of sweating horses, tugging a greatload of hay, went creaking by him. Then he followed it across and turned tothe right at the end of the bridge into the main street of the town.His purchases didn't take him long, and soon he was back at the bridgeagain. Upstream, on the Academy side of the river, he could see theskaters. Apparently half the school had decided to seize this last chancefor indulging in the sport, for the long and narrow strip of ice remainingwas quite black with figures. At the end of the bridge Jerry decided totake the river path, for a glance at his shoes and stockings convinced himthat it was no longer necessary to consider them; they were already as wetand muddy as it was possible for them to be. He felt rather more cheerfulafter his tramp, and told himself that if there was time he would run up tothe room, leave his purchases, get his skates, and join the group on theice. By the time he had covered half the distance between bridge andAcademy he could distinguish several of the skaters. There was Morris, withhis blue sweater, and the tall fellow was, of course, Jim Kennedy; andthere was Burns, and young Gordon; Gordon, even if he couldn't swim, was adandy skater."Only," thought Jerry, "if he got into the river it would be a bad outlookfor him."He had left the bridge a full quarter of a mile behind when a suddencommotion among the skaters attracted his attention. There was a scurryingtogether and the skating stopped. Jerry paused and watched intently, butfor a moment saw nothing to account for the actions of the fellows. Theywere lined up along the edge of the ice in little groups. Then several ofthem turned and skated frantically toward the bank. Jerry's first thoughtnow was that some one had fallen into the water, that the ice had givenway, as it was quite likely to do in its present half-rotten state, and helooked anxiously for young Gordon's slight figure. He couldn't see him, butthat signified little, since the fellows were packed together and the lightwas failing.But in another instant Jerry saw that his surmise was wrong. For suddenly asingle figure came into view, a figure huddled on hands and knees a fullfifty feet away from his companions. For an instant Jerry couldn'tunderstand. Then the huddled figure was swept farther away toward theopposite shore and a clear expanse of angry river showed between it andthose on the ice. One of the fellows had ventured too far, the ice hadbroken away, and now he was being borne swiftly down the stream! Alreadythe current had swept him away from all hope of assistance from hiscompanions, for up there the channel ran close to the Peterboro shore. Thefragment of ice to which he clung seemed to be fairly large, perhaps tenfeet long by half that in width, but Jerry knew that the chance of itsremaining unbroken for long was very slim. If the fellows had gone for aboat they might have saved themselves the effort, for no boat could bemanaged in that seething mass of broken ice. And a rope would be quite asuseless, since the current would keep the boy along the farther shore andno one on earth could throw a coil of rope half the distance.Jerry had already broken into a run, but now he pulled himself up andglanced behind him toward the bridge. He could be of no more use up therethan were the fellows grouped helplessly at the edge of the ice. If the boywas to be rescued it must be downstream somewhere, always supposing thecake of ice hung together and that he managed to retain his place on it.Jerry thought rapidly with fast-beating heart. Already the boy on the icehad covered half the distance to where Jerry stood, and the fellows upthere where the accident had happened were leaving the ice, franticallyfreeing themselves from their skates and running down the path. Jerryturned and ran back the way he had come. If he could reach the bridge firstthere might be a chance!His feet slipped in the ice and slush of the path and it was slow going.Once he fell flat on his face, but was up again in a twinkling, wet andbruised. A glance over his shoulder told him that the pitching, whirlingslag of ice with its human burden was gaining on him. If only he hadstarted before! he thought. But he ran on, sliding and tripping, his breathcoming hard and his heart pounding agonizedly against his ribs. He wasalmost there now; only another hundred yards or so remained between him andthe end of the bridge. He prayed for strength to keep on as he glancedagain over his shoulder. The boy had thrown himself face down on the iceand Jerry saw with a sinking heart that already the cake had diminished insize. If it struck one of the stone pillars of the bridge it would go topieces without a doubt, and it would be a hard task for the strongestswimmer to battle his way clear of that rushing current.With his breath almost failing him, Jerry reached the bridge and ran outupon it. He was none too soon. Close to the farther shore the jaggedfragment still held together as it dipped and turned, glancing from thejutting points of the shore ice and grinding between its fellows in theugly green torrent. Face down lay the boy, limp, his hands outthrown besidehim. Under the bridge the river rushed with a loud rushing sound, swift andrelentless.Jerry ran with aching limbs to the third span, toward which the current wasbearing the helpless, huddled figure. In the brief moment of time left himJerry noted two things. One was that those in the van of the stragglingline hurrying toward him along the river path were but a couple of hundredyards distant. The other was that his left shoulder was aching dully. Hemust, he thought, have struck on it when he fell. Then his gaze was on themotionless form sweeping toward him, and he was leaning over the woodenrail, his hands at his mouth."Stand up!" he cried with all his might.But there was no answering movement from the boy. Jerry's heart sank, butonce more he shouted, putting, as it seemed to him, every remaining bit ofbreath into his call:"Stand up and I'll save you!"The head raised and a white face gazed up at him as the narrowing currentseized the ice fragment. With a gasp of surprise Jerry looked down into thehorror-stricken eyes of Herbert Welch! Then he had thrown himself down onthe floor of the bridge, his head and shoulders over the water."Stand up!" he called again. And Welch staggered weakly to his knees, theice beneath him tilting perilously. Jerry's hands stretched down over therushing water."Catch hold!" he cried.A momentary return of hope and courage came to Welch, and as histreacherous craft shot, crushing and grinding, into the maelstrom, he foundhis feet for a moment, and threw his arms above his head, his fingersclutching hungrily at the empty air. Then a corner of the ice fragmentstruck against the left-hand pillar and he lost his balance. But in thatbrief moment Jerry's left hand had grasped one of Welch's wrists, and nowthe latter hung between bridge and water, swinging slowly and limply. ThenJerry's right hand found a hold below his left, and he set his teeth andclosed his eyes, praying, as he had done before on the river path, forstrength and endurance. The strain was terrible. He felt the blood rushingto his head and throbbing there mightily.His left shoulder hurt worse every moment. But he could hold on a momentlonger. Surely the others would be here in just a second. He thought heheard cries, but the roar of the water beneath and the throbbing in hishead made it uncertain. Then he heard a voice. It was Herb Welch speaking."Let me go, Hutton," said Welch quietly. "You can't hold me here."Jerry tried to answer, but the pressure against his chest was too severe.His left hand began to slip from Welch's wrist; the fingers wouldn't hold;there was a strange numbness from hand to shoulder. With a smothered groanhe tried to tighten his clasp again. Then help came. Eager hands took hisburden, and he felt himself being pulled back from the edge. He glanced uponce and had a glimpse of somber twilight sky and Ned's brown eyes....When he opened his eyes again he was lying on a couch in a cottage at theedge of the village. There were several figures about him, and one wasNed's. He smiled and tried to rise, but was glad to lay back again and lookcuriously at his bandaged shoulder."It's only a busted collarbone," said Ned. "Doctor says it will be allright in two or three weeks. We're going to take you back in a minute. Thecarriage is coming now.""That's nice," said Jerry drowsily. "How's Welch?""Not hurt a bit. He walked home. And say, Jerry," Ned went on, dropping hisvoice, "it's all right about the Lyceum. Herb says he's going to bring yourname up himself at the next meeting. You--you proved yourself to-day, oldchum!"10 Add The Proving of Jerry to your library.Return to the Ralph Henry Barbour library, or . . . Read the next short story; The Seventh Tutor 2b1af7f3a8