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OLIVER TWIST, 
 
 VOL. I, 
 
NEW WORK BY '' BOZ. 
 
 BARNABY RUDGE: 
 
 BY " BOZ." 
 Which will be published forthwith in Bentley's Miscellany. 
 
Digitized by tlie Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/olivertwistorpar01dick 
 
OLIVER TWIST; 
 
 PARISH BOY'S PROGRESS. 
 
 BY " BOZ.' 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1838. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY SAMUl.L BENTIfY, 
 
 Dorset Sired, Fieel Street. 
 

 t OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 S CHAPTER I. 
 
 TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORN, 
 AND OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH. 
 
 Among other public buildings in a certain 
 
 town which for many reasons it will be prudent 
 
 to refrain from mentioning, and to which I T;vill 
 
 ^■' assign no fictitious name, it boasts of one which 
 
 is common to most towns, great or small, to 
 
 ,, wit, a workhouse ; and in this workhouse was 
 
 born, on a day and date which I need not 
 
 take upon myself to repeat, inasmuch as it 
 
 can be of no possible consequence to the 
 
 ^ reader, in this stage of the business at all 
 
 events, the item of mortality whose name is 
 
 Qj prefixed to the head of this chapter. For a 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 long time after he was ushered into this 
 world of sorrow and trouble, by the parish 
 surgeon, it remained a matter of considerable 
 doubt whether the child would survive to 
 bear any name at all ; in which case it is 
 somewhat more than probable that these 
 memoirs would never have appeared, or, if 
 they had, being comprised within a couple of 
 pages, that they would have possessed the ines- 
 timable merit of being the most concise and 
 faithful specimen of biography extant in the 
 literature of any age or country. Although I 
 am not disposed to maintain that the being 
 born in a workhouse is in itself the most for- 
 tunate and enviable circumstance that can pos- 
 sibly befal a human being, I do mean to say 
 that in this particular instance it was the best 
 thing for Oliver Twist that could by possibi- 
 lity have occurred. The fact is, that there was 
 considerable difficulty in inducing Oliver to 
 take upon himself the office of respiration, — 
 a troublesome practice, but one which custom 
 has rendered necessary to our easy existence, — 
 and for some time he lay gasping on a little 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 3 
 
 flock mattress, rather unequally poised be- 
 tween this world and the next, the balance 
 being decidedly in favour of the latter. Now? 
 if during this brief period, Oliver had been 
 surrounded by careful grandmothers, anxious 
 aunts, experienced nurses, and doctors of pro- 
 found wisdom, he would most inevitably and 
 indubitably have been killed in no time. There 
 being nobody by, however, but a pauper old 
 woman, who was rendered rather misty by an 
 unwonted allowance of beer, and a parish sur- 
 geon who did such matters by contract, Oliver 
 and nature fought out the point between them. 
 The result was, that, after a few struggles, Oli- 
 ver breathed, sneezed, and proceeded to adver- 
 tise to the inmates of the workhouse the fact of 
 a new burden having been imposed upon the 
 parish, by setting up as loud a cry as could 
 reasonably have been expected from a male 
 infant who had not been possessed of that 
 very useful appendage, a voice, for a much 
 longer space of time than three minutes and a 
 quarter. 
 
 As Oliver gave this first proof of the 
 
 B 2 
 
4 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 free and proper action of his lungs, the patch- 
 work coverlet which was carelessly flung over 
 the iron bedstead, rustled ; the pale face of a 
 young female was raised feebly from the pillow ; 
 and a faint voice imperfectly articulated the 
 words, " Let me see the child, and die." 
 
 The surgeon had been sitting with his face 
 turned towards the fire, giving the palms of his 
 hands a warm and a rub alternately; but as 
 the young woman spoke, he rose, and advan- 
 cing to the bed's head, said with more kindness 
 than might have been expected of him — 
 
 " Oh, you must not talk about dying yet." 
 " Lor bless her dear heart, no !" interposed the 
 nurse, hastily depositing in her pocket a green 
 glass bottle, the contents of which she had been 
 tasting in a corner with evident satisfaction. 
 " Lor bless her dear heart, when she has lived 
 as long as I have, sir, and had thirteen children 
 of her own, and all on 'em dead except two, 
 and them in the wurkus with me, she '11 know 
 better than to take on in that way, bless her 
 dear heart ! Think what it is to be a mother, 
 there's a dear young lamb, do." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. O 
 
 Apparently this consolatory perspective of a 
 mother's prospects failed in producing its due 
 effect. The patient shook her head, and 
 stretched out her hand towards the child. 
 
 The surgeon deposited it in her arms. She 
 imprinted her cold white lips passionately on 
 its forehead, passed her hands over her face, 
 gazed wildly round, shuddered, fell back — and 
 died. They chafed her breast, hands, and tem- 
 ples ; but the blood had frozen for ever. They 
 talked of hope and comfort. They had been 
 strangers too long. 
 
 " It 's all over, Mrs. Thingummy," said the 
 surgeon at last. 
 
 " Ah, poor dear, so it is!" said the nurse, 
 picking up the cork of the green bottle which 
 had fallen out on the pillow as she stooped to 
 take up the child. " Poor dear ! " 
 
 " You needn't mind sending up to me, if the 
 child cries, nurse," said the surgeon, putting on 
 his gloves with great deliberation. " It 's very 
 likely it will be troublesome. Give it a little 
 gruel if it is." He put on his hat, and, pausing 
 by the bed-side on his way to the door, added, 
 
6 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " She was a good-looking girl, too ; where did 
 she come from ? " 
 
 " She was brought here last night,"''' replied 
 the old woman, " by the overseer's order. She 
 was found lying in the street ; — she had walked 
 some distance, for her shoes were worn to 
 pieces ; but where she came from, or where she 
 was going to, nobody knows." 
 
 The surgeon leant over the body, and raised 
 the left hand. " The old story," he said, 
 shaking his head : " no wedding-ring, I see. 
 Ah ! good night ! " 
 
 The medical gentleman walked away to din- 
 ner ; and the nurse, having once more applied 
 herself to the green bottle, sat down on a low 
 chair before the fire, and proceeded to dress the 
 infant. 
 
 And what an excellent example of the power 
 of dress young Oliver Twist was ! Wrapped 
 in the blanket which had hitherto formed his 
 only covering, he might have been the child of 
 a nobleman or a beo-o-ar ; — it would have been 
 hard for the haughtiest stranger to have fixed 
 his station in society. But now that he was en- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 7 
 
 veloped In the old calico robes, which had grown 
 yellow in the same service, he was badged and 
 ticketed, and fell into his place at once — a 
 parish child — the orphan of a workhouse — the 
 humble half-starved drudge — to be cuffed and 
 buffeted through the world, despised by all, 
 and pitied by none. 
 
 Oliver cried lustily. If he could have known 
 that he was an orphan, left to the tender mer- 
 cies of churchwardens and overseers, perhaps he 
 would have cried the louder. 
 
 n 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 TREATS OF OLIVER TWISt's GROWTH, EDUCATION, 
 AND BOARD. 
 
 For the next eight or ten months, Oliver 
 was the victim of a systematic course of trea- 
 chery and deception — he was brought up by 
 hand. The hungry and destitute situation of 
 the infant orphan was duly reported by the 
 workhouse authorities to the parish authorities. 
 The parish authorities inquired with dignity of 
 the workhouse authorities, whether there was 
 no female then domiciled in " the house" who 
 was in a. situation to impart to Oliver Twist the 
 consolation and nourishment of which he stood 
 in need. The workhouse authorities replied 
 with humility that there was not. Upon this, 
 the parish authorities magnanimously and hu- 
 manely resolved, that Oliver should be " farm- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 9 
 
 ed," or, in other words, that he should be de- 
 spatched to a branch- workhouse some three 
 miles off, where twenty or tliirty other juvenile 
 offenders against the poor-laws rolled about the 
 floor all day, without the inconvenience of too 
 much food or too much clothing, under the pa- 
 rental superintendence of an elderly female who 
 received the culprits at and for the considera- 
 tion of sevenpence-halfpenny per small head per 
 week. Sevenpence-halfpenny's worth per week 
 is a good round diet for a child ; a great deal 
 may be got for sevenpence-halfpenny — quite 
 enough to overload its stomach, and make it 
 uncomfortable. The elderly female was a 
 woman of wisdom and experience ; she knew 
 what was good for children, and she had a 
 very accurate perception of what was good for 
 herself. So, she appropriated the greater part 
 of the weekly stipend to her own use, and 
 consigned the rising parochial generation to 
 even a shorter allowance than was originally- 
 provided for them ; thereby finding in the 
 lowest depth a deeper still, and proving her- 
 self a very great experimental philosopher. 
 
 B 5 
 
10 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 Everybody knows the story of another ex- 
 perimental philosopher, who had a great theory 
 about a horse being able to live without eating, 
 and who demonstrated it so well, that h^ got 
 his own horse down to a straw a day, and 
 would most unquestionably have rendered him 
 a very spirited and rampacious animal upon 
 nothing at all, if he had not died, just four-and- 
 twenty hours before he was to have had his 
 first comfortable bait of air. Unfortunately 
 for the experimental philosophy of the female 
 to whose protecting care Oliver Twist was 
 delivered over, a similar result usually attend- 
 ed the operation of her system ; for at the 
 very moment when a child had contrived to 
 exist upon the smallest possible portion of the 
 weakest possible food, it did perversely happen 
 in eight and a half cases out of ten, either that 
 it sickened from want and cold, or fell into 
 the fire from neglect, or got smothered by 
 accident ; in any one of which cases, the 
 miserable little being was usually summoned 
 into another world, and tliere gathered to the 
 fathers which it had never known in this. 
 
OLIVER TWTST. 11 
 
 Occasionally, when there was some more 
 than usually interesting inquest upon a parish 
 child who had been overlooked in turning up 
 a bedstead, or inadvertently scalded to death 
 when there happened to be a washing, though 
 the latter accident was very scarce, — anything 
 approaching to a washing being of rare occur- 
 rence in the farm, — the jury would take it 
 into their heads to ask troublesome questions, 
 or the parishioners would rebelliously affix 
 their signatures to a remonstrance : but these 
 impertinences were speedily checked by the 
 evidence of the surgeon, and the testimony 
 of the beadle ; the former of whom had al- 
 ways opened the body and found nothing in- 
 side (which was very probable indeed), and 
 the latter of whom invariably swore whatever 
 the parish wanted, which was very self-devo- 
 tional. Besides, the board made periodical 
 pilgrimages to the farm, and always sent the 
 beadle the day before, to say they were 
 going. The children were neat and clean 
 to behold, when they went ; and what more 
 would the people have ? 
 
12 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 It cannot be expected that this system of 
 farming would produce any very extraordi- 
 nary or luxuriant crop, Oliver Twist's ninth 
 birth-day found him a pale, thin child, some- 
 what diminutive in stature, and decidedly small 
 in circumference. But nature or inheritance 
 had implanted a good sturdy spirit in Oliver's 
 breast : it had had plenty of room to expand, 
 thanks to the spare diet of the establishment ; 
 and perhaps to this circumstance may be attri- 
 buted his having any ninth birth-day at all. 
 Be this as it may, however, it was his ninth 
 birth-day ; and he was keeping it in the coal- 
 cellar with a select party of two other young 
 gentlemen, who, after participating with him 
 in a sound threshing, had been locked up 
 therein for atrociously presuming to be hun- 
 gry, when Mrs. Mann, the good lady of the 
 house, was unexpectedly startled by the appa- 
 rition of Mr. Bumble the beadle striving to 
 undo the wicket of the garden-gate. 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! is that you, Mr. Bum- 
 ble, sir?" said Mrs. Mann, thrusting her head 
 out of the window in well-affected ecstasies of 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 13 
 
 joy. " (Susan, take Oliver and them two 
 brats up stairs, and wash 'em directly.) — My 
 heart alive ! Mr. Bumble, how glad I am to 
 see you, sure-ly ! " 
 
 Now Mr. Bumble was a fat man, and a 
 choleric one ; so, instead of responding to this 
 open-hearted salutation in a kindred spirit, he 
 gave the little wicket a tremendous shake, and 
 then bestowed upon it a kick which could have 
 emanated from no leg but a beadle's. 
 
 " Lor, only think," said Mrs. Mann, run- 
 ning out, — for the three boys had been removed 
 by this time, — " only think of that ! That 
 I should have forgotten that the gate was bolted 
 on the inside, on account of them dear chil- 
 dren ! Walk in, sir ; walk in, pray, Mr. 
 Bumble, do, sir." 
 
 Although this invitation was accompanied 
 with a curtsey that might have softened the 
 heart of a churchwarden, it by no means mol- 
 lified the beadle. 
 
 " Do you think this respectful or proper 
 conduct, Mrs. Mann," inquired Mr. Bumble, 
 grasping his cane, — " to keep the parish offi- 
 
14 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 cers a- waiting at your garden-gate, when they 
 come here upon porochial business connected 
 with the porochial orphans? Are you aware, 
 Mrs. Mann, that you are, as I may say, a 
 porochial delegate, and a stipendiary ? "" 
 
 " I 'm sure, Mr. Bumble, that I was only 
 a-telliug one or two of the dear children as 
 is so fond of you, that it was you a-coming,'"* 
 replied Mrs. Mann with great humility. 
 
 Mr. Bumble had a great idea of his orato- 
 rical powers and his importance. He had dis- 
 played the one, and vindicated the other. He 
 relaxed. 
 
 " Well, well, Mrs. Mann," he rephed in a 
 calmer tone ; *•' it may be as you say ; it 
 may be. Lead the way in, Mrs. Mann, for 
 I come on business, and have got something 
 to say." 
 
 Mrs. Mann ushered the beadle into a small 
 parlour with a brick floor : placed a seat for 
 him, and officiously deposited his cocked hat 
 and cane on the table before him. Mr. Bum- 
 ble wiped from his forehead the perspii-ation 
 which his walk had engendered, glanced com- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 15 
 
 placently at the cocked hat, and smiled. Yes, 
 he smiled : beadles are but men, and Mr. Bum- 
 ble smiled. 
 
 " Now don'^t you be offended at what I 'm 
 a-going to say," observed Mrs. Mann, with 
 captivating sweetness. " YouVe had a long 
 walk, you know, or I wouldn't mention it. 
 Now will you take a little drop of something, 
 Mr. Bumble?" 
 
 " Not a drop — not a drop," said Mr. 
 Bumble, waving his right hand in a dignified, 
 but still placid manner. 
 
 '' I think you will," said Mrs. Mann, who 
 had noticed the tone of the refusal, and the 
 gesture that had accompanied it. " Just a 
 leetle drop, with a little cold water, and a 
 lump of sugar." 
 
 Mr. Bumble coughed. 
 
 " Now, just a little drop," said Mrs. Mann 
 persuasively. 
 
 " What is it ?" inquired the beadle. 
 
 *' Why, it 's what I 'm obliged to keep a little 
 of in the house, to put in the blessed infants'* 
 Daffy when they ain't well, ]Mr. Bumble," 
 
16 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 replied Mrs. Mann as she opened a corner 
 cupboard, and took down a bottle and glass. 
 " It 's gin." 
 
 " Do you give the chiklren Daffy, Mrs. 
 Mann?" inquired Bumble, following with his 
 eyes the interesting process of mixing. 
 
 " Ah, bless ""em, that I do, dear as it is,"" 
 rephed the nurse. " I couldn't see 'em suffer 
 before my very eyes, you know, sir." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Bumble approvingly ; "no, 
 you could not. You are a humane woman, 
 Mrs. Mann." — (Here she set down the glass.) 
 — " I shall take an early opportunity of men- 
 tioning it to the board, Mrs. Mann.'"' — (He 
 drew it towards him.) — " You feel as a 
 mother, Mrs. Mann." — (He stirred the gin 
 and water.) — " I — I drink your health with 
 cheerfulness, Mrs. Mann;" — and he swallowed 
 half of it. 
 
 " And now about business," said the beadle, 
 taking out a leathern pocket-book. " The child 
 that was half-baptized, Oliver Twist, is nine 
 year old to-day." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 17 
 
 " Bless him ! "" interposed Mrs. Mann, in- 
 flaming her left eye with the corner of her 
 apron. 
 
 " And notwithstanding a offered reward 
 of ten pound, which was afterwards increased 
 to twenty pound, — notwithstanding the most 
 superlative, and, I may say, supernatural exer- 
 tions on the part of this parish," said Bumble, 
 " we have never been able to discover who 
 i^-^his father, or what is his mother's settle- 
 ment, name, or condition." 
 
 Mrs. Mann raised her hands in astonish- 
 ment ; but added, after a moment's reflection, 
 " How comes he to have any name at all, 
 then?" 
 
 The beadle drew himself up with great 
 pride, and said, " I inwerited it." 
 
 " You, Mr. Bumble!" 
 
 " I, Mrs. Mann. We name our foundlings 
 in alphabetical order. The last was a S, — 
 Swubble, . I named him. This was a T, — 
 Twist, I named him. The next one as comes 
 will be Unwin, and the next Vilkins. I 
 
18 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 have got names ready made to the end of 
 the alphabet, and all the way through it 
 again, when we come to Z." 
 
 " Why, you 're quite a literary character, 
 sir ! '^ said Mrs. Mann. 
 
 " Well, well,*" said the beadle, evidently 
 gratified with the compliment ; " perhaps I 
 may be — perhaps I may be, Mrs. Mann." 
 He finished the gin and water, and added, 
 " Oliver being now too old to remain here, 
 the Board have determined to have him back 
 into the house, and I have come out myself 
 to take him there, — so let me see him at 
 once." 
 
 " I '11 fetch him directly," said Mrs. Mann, 
 leaving the room for that purpose. And 
 Oliver, having by this time had as much of 
 the outer coat of dirt, which encrusted his 
 face and hands, removed, as could be scrubbed 
 off in one washing, was led into the room 
 by his benevolent protectress. 
 
 " Make a bow to the gentleman, Oliver," 
 said Mrs. Mann. 
 
 Oliver made a bow, which was divided be- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 19 
 
 tween the beadle on the chair and the cock- 
 ed hat on the table. 
 
 "Will you go along with me, Oliver?" 
 said Mr. Bumble in a majestic voice. 
 
 Oliver was about to say that he would go 
 along with anybody with great readiness, when, 
 glancing upwards, he caught sight of Mrs. 
 Mann, who had got behind the beadle's chair, 
 and was shaking her fist at him with a furious 
 countenance. He took the hint at once, for 
 the fist had been too often impressed upon his 
 body not to be deeply impressed upon his re- 
 collection. 
 
 " Will she go with me ?" inquired poor 
 Oliver. 
 
 " No, she can't," replied Mr. Bumble ; 
 "• but she '11 come and see you sometimes." 
 
 This was no very great consolation to the 
 child; but, young as he was, he had sense 
 enough to make a feint of feeling great regret 
 at going away. It was no very difiicult mat- 
 ter for the boy to call the tears into his eyes. 
 Hunger and recent ill-usage are great assistants 
 if you want to cry ; and Oliver cried very 
 
20 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 naturally indeed. Mrs. Mann gave him a thou- 
 sand embraces, and, what Oliver wanted a 
 great deal more, a piece of bread and butter, 
 lest he should seem too hungry when he got 
 to the workhouse. With the slice of bread 
 in his hand, and the little brown-cloth parish 
 cap upon his head, Oliver was then led away 
 by Mr. Bumble from the wretched home where 
 one kind word or look had never lighted the 
 gloom of his infant years. And yet he burst 
 into an agony of childish grief as the cottage- 
 gate closed after him. Wretched as were the 
 little companions in misery he was leaving 
 behind, they were the only friends he had 
 ever known; and a sense of his loneliness in 
 the great wide world sank into the child's heart 
 for the first time. 
 
 Mr. Bumble walked on with long strides, 
 and little Oliver, firmly grasping his gold-laced 
 cuff, trotted beside him, inquiring at the end 
 of every quarter of a mile whether they were 
 *' nearly there," to which interrogations Mr. 
 Bumble returned very brief and snappish re- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 21 
 
 plies ; for the temporary blandness which gin 
 and water awakens in some bosoms had by 
 this time evaporated, and he was once again 
 a beadle. 
 
 Oliver had not been within the walls of 
 the workhouse a quarter of an hour, and had 
 scarcely completed the demolition of a second 
 slice of bread, when Mr. Bumble, who had 
 handed him over to the care of an old woman, 
 returned, and, telling him it was a board night, 
 informed him that the board had said he was 
 to appear before it forthwith. 
 
 Not having a very clearly defined notion of 
 what a live board was, Oliver was rather as- 
 tounded by this intelligence, and was not quite 
 certain whether he ought to laugh or cry. He 
 had no time to think about the matter, how- 
 ever ; for Mr. Bumble gave him a tap on the 
 head with his cane to wake him up, and 
 another on the back to make him hvely, 
 and, bidding him follow, conducted him into 
 a large whitewashed room where eight or ten 
 fat gentlemen were sitting round a table, at 
 
i^% OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 the top of which, seated in an arm-chair 
 rather higher than the rest, was a particularly 
 fat gentleman with a very round, red face. 
 
 " Bow to the board,'' said Bumble. Oliver 
 brushed away two or three tears that were 
 lingering in his eyes, and seeing no board but 
 the table, fortunately bowed to that. 
 
 " What's your name, boy.^^" said the gen- 
 tleman in the high chair. 
 
 Oliver was frightened at the sight of so 
 many gentlemen, which made him tremble ; 
 and the beadle gave him another tap behind, 
 which made him cry; and these two causes 
 made him answer in a very low and hesitating 
 voice ; whereupon a gentleman in a white 
 waistcoat said he was a fool, which was a 
 capital way of raising his spirits, and putting 
 him quite at his ease. 
 
 '' Boy," said the gentleman in the high 
 chair, " listen to me. You know you're an 
 orphan, I suppose?" 
 
 " What's that, sir?" inquired poor Oliver. 
 
 " The boy is a fool — I thought he was," 
 said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, in 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 2S 
 
 a very decided tone. If one member of a 
 class be blessed with an intuitive perception 
 of others of the same race, the gentleman in 
 the white waistcoat was unquestionably well 
 qualified to pronounce an opinion on the 
 matter. 
 
 " Hush ! " said the gentleman who had 
 spoken first. " You know you Ve got no 
 father or mother, and that you are brought 
 up by the parish, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Oliver, weeping bitterly. 
 
 " What are you crying for?" inquired the 
 gentleman in the w^hite waistcoat. And to be 
 sure it was very extraordinary. What could 
 the boy be crying for ? 
 
 " I hope you say your prayers every night," 
 said another gentleman in a gruff voice, " and 
 pray for the people who feed you, and take 
 care of you, like a Christian." 
 
 " Yes, sir," stammered the boy. The gen- 
 tleman who spoke last was unconsciously right. 
 It would have been veri/ like a Christian, and 
 a marvellously good Christian, too, if Oliver 
 had prayed for the people who fed and took 
 
24f OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 care of him. But lie hadn't, because nobody 
 had taught him. 
 
 '' Well, you have come here to be educated, 
 and taught a useful trade," said the red-faced 
 gentleman in the high chair. 
 
 " So you'll begin to pick oakum to-morrow- 
 morning at six o'clock,"' added the surly one 
 in the white waistcoat. 
 
 For the combination of both these blessings 
 in the one simple process of picking oakum, 
 Oliver bowed low by the direction of the 
 beadle, and was then hurried away to a 
 large ward, where, on a rough hard bed, he 
 sobbed himself to sleep. What a noble illus- 
 tration of the tender laws of this favoured 
 country ! — they let the paupers go to sleep ! 
 
 Poor Oliver ! He little thought, as he lay 
 sleeping in happy unconsciousness of all around 
 him, that the board had that very day arrived 
 at a decision which would exercise the most 
 material influence over all his future fortunes. 
 But they had. And this was it : — 
 
 The members of this board were very sage, 
 deep, philosophical men ; and when they came 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 25 
 
 to turn their attention to the workhouse, they 
 found out at once, what ordinary folks would 
 never have discovered, — the poor people liked 
 it ! It was a regular place of public enter- 
 tainment for the poorer classes, — a tavern 
 where there was nothing to pay, — a public 
 breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper all the year 
 round, — a brick and mortar elysium, where it 
 was all play and no work. " Oho !" said the 
 board, looking very knowing ; ''we are the 
 fellows to set this to rights; we'll stop it all 
 in no time." So, they established the rule, 
 that all poor people should have the alternative 
 (for they would compel nobody, not they,) 
 of being starved by a gradual process in the 
 house, or by a quick one out of it. With 
 this view, they contracted with the water- 
 works to lay on an unlimited supply of water, 
 and with a corn-factor to supply periodically 
 small quantities of oatmeal ; and issued three 
 meals of thin gruel a-day, with an onion 
 twice a week, and half a roll on Sundays. 
 They made a great many other wise and hu- 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
26 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 mane regulations having reference to the 
 ladies, which it is not necessary to repeat ; 
 kindly undertook to divorce poor marrijed 
 people, in consequence of the great expense 
 of a suit in Doctors' Commons ; and, instead 
 of compelling a man to support his family as 
 they had theretofore done, took his family 
 away from him, and made him a bachelor ! 
 There is no telling how many applicants for 
 relief under these last two heads would not 
 have started up in all classes of society, if it 
 had not been coupled with the workhouse. 
 But they were long-headed men, and they 
 had provided for this difficulty. The relief 
 was inseparable from the workhouse and the 
 gruel, and that frightened people. 
 
 For the first six months after Oliver Tavist 
 Avas removed, the system was in full operation. 
 It was rather expensive at first, in consequence 
 of the increase of the undertaker's bill, and the 
 necessity of taking in the clothes of all the 
 paupers, which fluttered loosely on their wasted, 
 shrunken forms, after a week or two's gruel. 
 But the number of workhouse inmates got 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 27 
 
 thin as well as the paupers, and the board 
 were in ecstasies. 
 
 The room in \yhich the boys were fed, was a 
 large stone hall, with a copper at one end, 
 out of which the master, dressed in an apron 
 for the purpose, and assisted by one or two 
 women, ladled the gruel at meal-times; of 
 which composition each boy had one porringer, 
 and no more, — except on festive occasions, and 
 then he had two ounces and a quarter of bread 
 besides. The bowls never wanted washing — 
 the boys polished them with their spoons till 
 they shone again; and when they had per- 
 formed this operation, (which never took very 
 long, the spoons being nearly as large as the 
 bowls,) they would sit staring at the copper 
 with such eager eyes as if they could devour 
 the very bricks of which it was composed; 
 employing themselves meanwhile in sucking 
 their fingers most assiduously, with the view 
 of catching up any stray splashes of gruel that 
 might have been cast thereon. Boys have 
 generally excellent appetites. Oliver Twist and 
 
 c 2 
 
Zii OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 his companions suffered the tortures of slow 
 starvation for three months ; at last they got 
 so voracious and wild with hunger, that one 
 boy, who was tall for his age, and hadn t been 
 used to that sort of thing, (for his father had 
 kept a small cook's shop,) hinted darkly to 
 his companions, that unless he had another 
 basin of gruel j^er diem, he was afraid he should 
 some night eat the boy who slept next him, 
 who happened to be a weakly youth of tender 
 age. He had a wild, hungry eye, and they 
 implicitly believed him. A council was held ; 
 lots were cast who should walk up to the mas- 
 ter after supper that evening, and ask for more ; 
 and it fell to Oliver Twist. 
 
 The evening arrived : the boys took their 
 places ; the master in his cook's uniform sta- 
 tioned himself at the copper ; his pauper assist- 
 ants ranged themselves behind him ; the gruel 
 was served out, and a long grace was said over 
 the short commons. The gruel disappeared, 
 and the boys whispered each other and winked 
 at Oliver, while his next neighbours nudged 
 him. Child as he was, he was desperate with 
 
tovPt- STuJcsltnT-ru- 
 
 ^^^Ur'^'7 .^7^^7i^/ /f 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 29 
 
 hunger and reckless with misery. He rose 
 from the table, and advancing basin and spoon 
 in hand, to the master, said, somewhat alarmed 
 at his own temerity — 
 
 " Please, sir, I want some more." 
 
 The master was a fat, healthy man, but he 
 turned very pale. He gazed in stupified asto- 
 nishment on the small rebel for some seconds, 
 and then clung for support to the copper. The 
 assistants were paralysed with wonder, and the 
 boys with fear. 
 
 " What!" said the master at length, in a 
 faint voice. 
 
 " Please, sir," replied Oliver, '' I want some 
 more." 
 
 The master aimed a blow at Oliver's head 
 with the ladle, pinioned him in his arms, and 
 shrieked aloud for the beadle. 
 
 The board were sitting in solemn conclave 
 when Mr. Bumble rushed into the room in 
 great excitement, and addressing the gentleman 
 in the high chair, said, — 
 
 " Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir ; — 
 Oliver Twist has asked for more." There was 
 
30 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 a general start. Horror was depicted on every 
 countenance. 
 
 " For more r said Mr. Limbkins. " Com- 
 pose yourself, Bumble, and answer me distinct- 
 ly. Do I understand that he asked for more, 
 after he had eaten the supper allotted by the 
 dietary?'' 
 
 " He did, sir," replied Bumble. 
 
 " That boy will be hung," said the gentle- 
 man in the white waistcoat ; "I know that 
 boy will be hung." 
 
 Nobody controverted the prophetic gentle- 
 man's opinion. An animated discussion took 
 place. Oliver was ordered into instant confine- 
 ment ; and a bill was next morning pasted on 
 the outside of the gate, offering a reward of five 
 pounds to anybody who would take Oliver 
 Twist ofi* the hands of the parish. In other 
 words, five pounds and Oliver Twist were 
 offered to any man or woman who wanted an 
 apprentice to any trade, business, or calling. 
 
 " I never was more convinced of anything in 
 my life," said the gentleman in the white waist- 
 coat, as he knocked at the gate and read the 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 31 
 
 bill next morning, — " I never was more con- 
 vinced of anything in my life, than I am that 
 that boy will come to be hung." 
 
 As I purpose to show in the sequel whether 
 the white-waistcoated gentleman was right or 
 not, I should perhaps mar the interest of this 
 narrative, (supposing it to possess any at all,) 
 if I ventured to hint just yet, whether the life 
 of Oliver Twist had this violent termination 
 or no. 
 
32 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 RELATES HOW OLIVER TWIST WAS VERY NEAR GETTING 
 A PLACE, WHICH WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SINECURE. 
 
 For a week after the commission of the im- 
 pious and profane oiFence of asking for more, 
 Oliver remained a close prisoner in the dark and 
 solitary room to which he had been consigned 
 hy the wisdom and mercy of the board. It 
 appears, at first sight, not unreasonable to sup- 
 pose, that, if he had entertained a becoming 
 feeling of respect for the prediction of the gen- 
 tleman in the white waistcoat, he would have 
 established that sage individuaFs prophetic cha- 
 racter, once and for ever, by tying one end of 
 his pocket handkerchief to a hook in the wall, 
 and attaching himself to the other. To the 
 performance of this feat, however, there was 
 one obstacle, namely, that pocket-handkerchiefs 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 33 
 
 being decided articles of luxury, had been, for 
 all future times and ages, removed from the 
 noses of paupers by the express order of the 
 board in council assembled, solemnly given and 
 pronounced under their hands and seals. There 
 was a still greater obstacle in Oliver's youth 
 and childishness. He only cried bitterly all 
 day ; and when the long, dismal night came on, 
 he spread his little hands before his eyes to shut 
 out the darkness, and crouching in the corner, 
 tried to sleep : ever and anon waking with a start 
 and tremble, and drawing himself closer and 
 closer to the wall, as if to feel even its cold 
 hard surface were a protection in the gloom and 
 loneliness which surrounded him. 
 
 Let it not be supposed by the enemies of 
 " the system," that, during the period of his 
 solitary incarceration, Oliver was denied the 
 benefit of exercise, the pleasure of society, or 
 the advantages of religious consolation. As 
 for exercise, it was nice cold weather, and he 
 was allowed to perform his ablutions every 
 morning under the pump, in a stone yard, in 
 the presence of Mr. Bumble, who prevented his 
 
 c 5 
 
34' OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 catching cold, and caused a tingling sensation 
 to pervade his frame, by repeated applications 
 of the cane ; as for society, he was carried every 
 otlier day into the hall where the boys dined, 
 and there sociably flogged as a public warning 
 and example ; and so far from being denied the 
 advantages of religious consolation, he was 
 kicked into the same apartment every evening 
 at prayer-time, and there permitted to listen to, 
 and console his mind with, a general supplica- 
 tion of the boys, containing a special clause 
 therein inserted by authority of the board, in 
 which they entreated to be made good, vir- 
 tuous, contented, and obedient, and to be guard- 
 ed from the sins and vices of Oliver Twist, 
 whom the supplication distinctly set forth to be 
 under the exclusive patronage and protection of 
 the powers of wickedness, and an article direct 
 from the manufactory of the devil himself. 
 
 It chanced one morning, while Oliver's af- 
 fairs were in this auspicious and comfortable 
 state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney-sweeper, was 
 wending his way adown the High-street, deeply 
 cogitating in his mind his ways and means of 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 35 
 
 paying certain arrears of rent, for which hi.s 
 landlord had become rather pressing. Mr. 
 Gamfield's most sanguine calculation of funds 
 could not raise them within full five pounds of 
 the desired amount ; and, in a species of arith- 
 metical desperation, he was alternately cudgel- 
 ling his brains and his donkey, when, passing 
 the workhouse, his eyes encountered the bill 
 on the gate. 
 
 " Wo — o !" said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey. 
 
 The donkey was in a state of profound abs- 
 traction, — wondering, probably, whether he 
 was destined to be regaled with a cabbage- 
 stalk or two, when he had disposed of the two 
 sacks of soot with which the little cart was 
 laden ; so, without noticing the word of com- 
 mand, he jogged onwards. 
 
 Mr. Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation 
 on the donkey generally, but more particularly 
 on his eyes; and, running after him, bestowed 
 a blow on his head, which would inevitably 
 have beaten in any skull but a donkey^s ; 
 then, catching hold of the bridle, he gave his 
 jaw a sharp wrench, by way of gentle reminder 
 
36 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 that he was not his own master: and, having 
 by these means turned him round, he gave him 
 another blow on the head, just to stun him till 
 he came back again; and, having done so, 
 walked up to the gate to read the bill. 
 
 The gentleman with the white waistcoat was 
 standing at the gate with his hands behind him, 
 after having delivered himself of some profound 
 sentiments in the board-room. Having wit- 
 nessed the little dispute between Mr. Gamfield 
 and the donkey, he smiled joyously when that 
 person came up to read the bill, for he saw at 
 once that Mr. Gamfield was exactly the sort 
 of master Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gam- 
 field smiled, too, as he perused the document, 
 for five pounds was just the sum he had been 
 ■wishing for ; and, as to the boy with which it 
 was encumbered, Mr. Gamfield, knowing what 
 the dietary of the workhouse was, well knew he 
 would be a nice small pattern, just the very 
 thing for register stoves. So he spelt the bill 
 through again, from beginning to end, and 
 then, touching his fur cap in token of humility, 
 accosted the gentleman in the white waistcoat. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 37 
 
 '' This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to 
 'prentis," said Mr. Gamfield. 
 
 " Yes, my man,"" said the gentleman in the 
 white waistcoat, with a condescending smile, 
 "what of him?" 
 
 " If the parish vould like him to learn a 
 light pleasant trade, in a good 'spectable chim- 
 bley-sweepin' bisness," said Mr. Gamfield, " I 
 wants a 'prentis, and I 'm ready to take him." 
 
 " Walk in," said the gentleman in the white 
 waistcoat. Mr. Gamfield having lingered be- 
 hind, to give the donkey another blow on the 
 head, and another wrench of the jaw, as a cau- 
 tion not to run away in his absence, followed 
 the gentleman with the white waistcoat into 
 the room where Oliver had first seen him. 
 
 " Ifs a nasty trade," said Mr. Limbkins 
 when Gamfield had again stated his wish. 
 
 " Young boys have been smothered in chim- 
 neys before now," said another gentleman. 
 
 " That 's acause they damped the straw afore 
 they lit it in the chimbley to make 'em come 
 down again," said Gamfield ; " that 's all smoke, 
 and no blaze ; vereas smoke ain't o' no use at 
 
38 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 all in makin*' a boy come down, for it only sinds 
 him to sleep, and that 's wot he likes. Boys is 
 wery obstinit, and wery lazy, gen'lmen, and 
 there 's nothink like a good hot blaze to make 
 'em come down vith a rim ; it 's humane too, 
 gen'lmen, acause, even if they Ve stuck in the 
 chimbley, roastin' their feet makes 'em struggle 
 to hextricate theirselves." 
 
 The gentleman in the white waistcoat ap- 
 peared very much amused by this explanation ; 
 but his mirth was speedily checked by a look 
 from Mr. Limbkins. The board then proceed- 
 ed to converse among themselves for a few mi- 
 nutes, but in so low a tone, that the words 
 " saving of expenditure," " look well in the 
 accounts,'' " have a printed report published," 
 were alone audible : and they only chanced to 
 be heard on account of their being very fre- 
 quently repeated with great emphasis. 
 
 At length the whispering ceased, and the 
 members of the board having resumed their 
 seats and their solemnity, Mr. Limbkins said, 
 
 " We have considered your proposition, and 
 we don't approve of it." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 39 
 
 " Not at all," said the gentleman in tlie 
 white waistcoat. 
 
 " Decidedly not," added the other members. 
 
 As Mr. Gamfield did happen to labour under 
 the slight imputation of having bruised three or 
 four boys to death already, it occurred to him 
 that the board had perhaps, in some unaccount- 
 able freak, taken it into their heads that this 
 extraneous circumstance ought to influence 
 their proceedings. It was very unlike their 
 general mode of doing business, if they had ; 
 but still, as he had no particular wish to revive 
 the rumour, he twisted his cap in his hands, 
 and walked slowly from the table. 
 
 '' So you won't let me have him, gen'lmen," 
 said Mr. Gamfield, pausing near the door. 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Limbkins ; " at least, as 
 it's a nasty business, we think you ought to 
 take something less than the premium we 
 oiFered." 
 
 Mr. Gamfield's countenance brightened, as, 
 with a quick step he returned to the table, and 
 said, 
 
 " What '11 you give, gen'lmen ? Come, don't 
 
40 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 be too hard on a poor man. What '11 you 
 give ? " 
 
 " I should say three pound ten was plenty, '"' 
 said Mr. Limbkins. 
 
 " Ten shillings too much,"''' said the gentle- 
 man in the white waistcoat. 
 
 " Come," said Gamfield ; " say four pound, 
 gen'lmen. Say four pound, and youVe got 
 rid of him for good and all. There ! " 
 
 " Three pound ten," repeated Mr. Limbkins, 
 firmly. 
 
 " Come, I '11 split the difference, genlmen," 
 urged Gamfield. " Three pound fifteen." 
 
 " Not a farthing more," was the firm reply 
 of Mr. Limbkins. 
 
 " You 're desp'rate hard upon me, gen'lmen," 
 said Gamfield, wavering. 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! nonsense ! " said the gentle- 
 man in the white waistcoat. " He 'd be cheap 
 with nothing at all, as a premium. Take him, 
 you silly fellow ! He 's just the boy for you. 
 He wants the stick now and then ; it 11 do him 
 good ; and his board needn't come very expen- 
 sive, for he hasn't been overfed since he was 
 born. Ha t ha ! ha ! " 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 41 
 
 Mr. Gamfield gave an arch look at the faces 
 round the table, and, observing a smile on all 
 of them, gradually broke into a smile himself. 
 The bargain was made, and Mr. Bumble was 
 at once instructed that Oliver Twist and his 
 indentures were to be conveyed before the ma- 
 gistrate for signature and approval that very 
 afternoon. 
 
 In pursuance of this determination, little Oli- 
 ver, to his excessive astonishment, was released 
 from bondage, and ordered to put himself into 
 a clean shirt. He had hardly achieved this 
 very unusual gymnastic performance, when Mr. 
 Bumble brought him with his own hands a 
 basin of gruel, and the holiday allowance of 
 two ounces and a quarter of bread ; at sight of 
 which Oliver began to cry very piteously, think- 
 ing, not unnaturally, that the board must have 
 determined to kill him for some useful purpose, 
 or they never would have begun to fatten him 
 up in this way. 
 
 " Don't make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat 
 your food and be thankful," said Mr. Bumble, 
 in a tone of impressive pomposity. " You 're 
 a-going to be made a 'i^rentice of, Oliver." 
 
4f2 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " A 'prentice, sir ! " said the child, trembling. 
 
 " Yes, OHver,'' said Mr. Bumble. " The kind 
 and blessed gentlemen which is so many pa- 
 rents to you, Oliver, when you have none of 
 your own, are a-going to 'prentice you, and to 
 set you up in life, and make a man of you, 
 although the expense to the parish is three 
 pound ten ! — three pound ten, Oliver ! — seventy 
 shillin's ! — one hundred and forty sixpences ! — 
 and all for a naughty orphan which nobody can't 
 love." 
 
 As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath after 
 delivering this address in an awful voice, the 
 tears rolled down the poor child's face, and he 
 sobbed bitterly. 
 
 " Come," said Mr. Bumble, somewhat less 
 pompously, for it was gratifying to his feelings 
 to observe the effect his eloquence had produced, 
 " come, Oliver, wipe your eyes with the cuiFs 
 of your jacket, and don't cry into your gruel ; 
 that's a very foolish action, Oliver." It cer- 
 tainly was, for there was quite enough water in 
 it already. 
 
 On their way to the magistrate's, Mr. Bimible 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 43 
 
 instructed Oliver that all he would have to do, 
 would be to look very happy, and say, when 
 the gentleman asked him if he wanted to be 
 apprenticed, that he should like it very much 
 indeed; both of which injunctions Oliver pro- 
 mised to obey, the rather as Mr. Bumble threw 
 in a gentle hint, that if he failed in either 
 particular, there was no telling what would be 
 done to him. When they arrived at the office, 
 he was shut up in a little room by himself, and 
 admonished by Mr. Bumble to stay there until 
 he came back to fetch him. 
 
 There the boy remained with a palpitating 
 heart for half an hour, at the expiration of 
 which time Mr. Bumble thrust in his head, 
 unadorned with the cocked hat, and said aloud, 
 
 '' Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the gentle- 
 man." As Mr. Bumble said this, he put on a 
 grim and threatening look, and added in a low 
 voice, " Mind what I told you, you young 
 rascal." 
 
 Oliver stared innocently in Mr. Bumble's face 
 at this somewhat contradictory style of address ; 
 but that gentleman prevented his offering any 
 
44 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 remark thereupon, by leading him at once into 
 an adjoining room, the door of which was open. 
 It was a large room with a great window ; and 
 behind a desk sat two old gentlemen with pow- 
 dered heads, one of whom was reading the 
 newspaper, while the other was perusing, with 
 the aid of a pair of tortoise-shell spectacles, a 
 small piece of parchment which lay before him. 
 Mr. Limbkins was standing in front of the desk 
 on one side, and Mr. Gamfield, with a partially 
 washed face, on the other, while two or three 
 bluff-looking men in top-boots were lounging 
 about. 
 
 The old gentleman with the sj^ectacles gra- 
 dually dozed off over the little bit of parch- 
 ment, and there was a short pause, after Oliver 
 had been stationed by Mr. Bumble in front of 
 the desk. 
 
 " This is the boy, your worship,"" said ^Ir 
 Bumble. 
 
 The old gentleman who was reading the 
 newspaper, raised his head for a moment, and 
 pulled the other old gentleman by the sleeve, 
 whereupon the last-mentioned old gentleman 
 woke up. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 45 
 
 " Oh, is tins the boy?"*' said the old gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " This is him, sir,"' replied Mr. Bumble. 
 " Bow to the magistrate, my dear." 
 
 Oliver roused himself, and made his best 
 obeisance. He had been wondering, with his 
 eyes fixed on the magistrates'* powder, whether 
 all boards were born with that white stuif on 
 their heads, and were boards from thenceforth 
 on that account. 
 
 '' Well,"" said the old gentleman, " I suppose 
 he 's fond of chimney-sweeping ?" 
 
 " He dotes on it, your worship," replied 
 Bumble, giving Oliver a sly pinch, to intimate 
 that he had better not say he didn't. 
 
 " And he will be a sweep, will he ?" in- 
 quired the old gentleman. 
 
 '* If we was to bind him to any other trade 
 to-morrow, he ""d run away simultaneously, your 
 worship," replied Bumble. 
 
 " And this man that 's to be his master, — 
 you, sir, — you '11 treat him well, and feed him, 
 and do all that sort of thing, — will you?" said 
 the old gentleman. 
 
46 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " When I says I will, I means I will," re- 
 plied Mr. Gamfield doggedly. 
 
 "You're a rough speaker, my friend, but 
 you look an honest, open-hearted man," said the 
 old gentleman, turning his spectacles in the di- 
 rection of the candidate for Oliver's premium, 
 whose villanous countenance was a regular 
 stamped receipt for cruelty. But the magis- 
 trate was half blind and half childish, so he 
 couldn't reasonably be expected to discern what 
 other people did. 
 
 " I hope I am, sir," said Mr. Gamfield with 
 an ugly leer. 
 
 "• I have no doubt you are, my friend," re- 
 plied the old gentleman, fixing his spectacles 
 more firmly on his nose, and looking about him 
 for the inkstand. 
 
 It was the critical moment of Oliver's fate. 
 If the inkstand had been where the old gentle- 
 man thought it was, he would have dipped his 
 pen into it and signed the indentures, and Oli- 
 ver would have been straightway hurried off. 
 But as it chanced to be immediately under his 
 nose, it followed as a matter of course that he 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 47 
 
 looked all over his desk for it, without finding 
 it ; and happening in the course of this search 
 to look straight before him, his gaze encounter- 
 ed the pale and terrified face of Oliver Twist, 
 who, despite all the admonitory looks and 
 pinches of Bumble, was regarding the very re- 
 pulsive countenance of his future master with 
 a mingled expression of horror and fear, too 
 palpable to be mistaken even by a half-blind 
 magistrate. 
 
 The old gentleman stopped, laid down his 
 pen, and looked from Oliver to Mr. Limbkins, 
 who attempted to take snuff with a cheerful 
 and unconcerned aspect. 
 
 " My boy," said the old gentleman, leaning 
 over the desk. Oliver started at the sound, — 
 he might be excused for doing so, for the words 
 were kindly said, and strange sounds frighten 
 one. He trembled violently, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " My boy," said the old gentleman, " you 
 look pale and alarmed. What is the matter ?" 
 
 '' Stand a little away from him, beadle," said 
 the other magistrate, laying aside the paper, 
 
48 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 and leaning forward with an expression of inte- 
 rest. " Now, boy, tell us what 's the matter : 
 don't be afraid."" 
 
 Oliver fell on his knees, and, clasping his 
 hands tog-ether, prayed that they would order 
 him back to the dark room, — that they would 
 starve him — beat him — kill him if they pleased 
 — rather than send him away with that dread- 
 ful man. 
 
 '' Well ! " said Mr. Bumble, raising his hands 
 and eyes with most impressive solemnity, — 
 " Well ! of all the artful and designing orphans 
 that ever I see, Oliver, you are one of the most 
 bare-facedest."" 
 
 " Hold your tongue, beadle," said the second 
 old gentleman, wdien Mr. Bumble had given 
 vent to this compound adjective. 
 
 " I beg your worship's pardon,"" said Mr. 
 Bumble, incredulous of his having heard aright, 
 — " did your worship speak to me ?^^ 
 " Yes — hold your tongue."" 
 Mr. Bumble was stupified with astonish- 
 ment. A beadle ordered to hold his tongue ! 
 A moral revolution ! 
 
^-yy^fy^ yt^^:^^ 
 
 y^ ^^^^^^2^ ^tP^yP2^ 
 
 'T 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 49 
 
 The old gentleman in the tortoise-shell spec- 
 tacles looked at his companion ; he nodded sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 " We refuse to sanction these indentures," 
 said the old gentleman, tossing aside the piece 
 of parchment as he spoke. 
 
 " I hope," stammered Mr. Limbkins, — " I 
 hope the magistrates will not form the opinion 
 that the authorities have been guilty of any 
 improper conduct, on the unsupported testi- 
 mony of a mere child." 
 
 '' The magistrates are not called upon to pro- 
 nounce any opinion on the matter," said the 
 second old gentleman sharply. " Take the boy 
 back to the workhouse, and treat him kindly. 
 He seems to want it." 
 
 That same evening the gentleman in the 
 white waistcoat most positively and decidedly 
 affirmed, not only that Oliver would be hung, 
 but that he would be drawn and quartered 
 into the bargain. Mr. Bumble shook his head 
 with gloomy mystery, and said he wished he 
 might come to good ; whereunto Mr. Gamfield 
 replied, that he wished he might come to him, 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 which, although he agreed with the beadle in 
 most matters, would seem to be a wish of a 
 totally opposite description. 
 
 The next morning the public were once more 
 informed that Oliver Twist was again to let, 
 and that five pounds would be paid to anybody 
 who would take possession of him. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OLIVER, BEING OFFERED ANOTHER PLACE, MAKES HIS 
 FIRST ENTRY INTO PUBLIC LIFE. 
 
 In great families, when an advantageous 
 place cannot be obtained, either in possession, 
 reversion, remainder, or expectancy, for the 
 young man who is growing up, it is a very 
 general custom to send him to sea. The board, 
 in imitation of so wise and salutary an exam- 
 ple, took counsel together on the expediency of 
 shipping off Oliver Twist in some small trading 
 vessel bound to a good unhealthy port, which 
 suggested itself as the very best thing that could 
 possibly be done with him ; the probability 
 being, that the skipper would either flog him to 
 death in a playful mood some day after dinner, 
 or knock his brains out with an iron bar, — both 
 pastimes being, as is pretty generally known, 
 
 D 2 
 
 m^^^isny OF \iimm 
 
52 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 very favourite and common recreations among 
 gentlemen of that class. The more the case 
 presented itself to the board in this point of 
 view, the more manifold the advantages of the 
 step appeared ; so they came to the conclusion, 
 that the only way of providing for Oliver effec- 
 tually, was to send him to sea without delay. 
 
 Mr. Bumble had been despatched to make 
 various preliminary inquiries, with the view of 
 finding out some captain or other who wanted a 
 cabin-boy without any friends ; and was return- 
 ing to the workhouse to communicate the result 
 of his mission, when he encountered just at the 
 gate no less a person than Mr. Sowerberry, 
 the parochial undertaker. 
 
 Mr. Sowerberry was a tall, gaunt, large-jointed 
 man, attired in a suit of thread-bare black, with 
 darned cotton stockings of the same colour, and 
 shoes to answer. His features were not natu- 
 rally intended to wear a smiling aspect, but he 
 was in general rather given to professional joco- 
 sity ; his step was elastic, and his face betoken- 
 ed inward pleasantry, as he advanced to Mr. 
 Bumble and shook him cordially by the hand. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 53 
 
 '* I have taken the measure of the two wo- 
 men that died last night, Mr. Bmnble," said 
 the undertaker. 
 
 '' You 11 make your fortune, Mr. Sower- 
 berrv," said the beadle, as he thrust his thumb 
 and forefinger into the proffered snuff-box of the 
 undertaker, which was an ingenious little model 
 of a j)atent coffin. " I say you 11 make your 
 fortune, Mr. Sowerberry," repeated Mr. Bum- 
 ble, tapping the undertaker on the shoulder in a 
 friendly manner with his cane. 
 
 " Think so?'' said the undertaker in a tone 
 which half admitted and half disputed the pro- 
 bability of the event. " The prices allowed by 
 the board are very small, Mr. Bumble." 
 
 " So are the coffins," replied the beadle, with 
 precisely as near an approach to a laugh as a 
 great official ought to indulge in. 
 
 Mr. Sowerberry was much tickled at this, as 
 of course he ought to be, and laughed a long 
 time without cessation. " Well, well, Mr. 
 Bumble," he said at length, " there 's no deny- 
 ing that, since the new system of feeding has 
 come in, the coffins are something narrower and 
 
54 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 more shallow than they used to be ; but we 
 must have some profit, Mr. Tiumble. Well-sea- 
 soned timber is an expensive article, sir ; and all 
 the iron handles come by canal from Birming- 
 ham." 
 
 "' Well, well," said Mr. Bumble, '' every 
 trade has its drawbacks, and a fair profit is of 
 course allowable.*" 
 
 " Of course, of course," replied the under- 
 taker ; " and if I don't get a profit upon this or 
 that particular article, why, I make it up in the 
 long rvin, you see — he ! he ! he ! " 
 
 " Just so," said Mr. Bumble. 
 
 " Though I must say," — continued the un- 
 dertaker, resuming the current of observations 
 which the beadle had interrupted, — " though I 
 must say, Mr. Bumble, that I have to contend 
 against one very great disadvantage, which is, 
 that all the stout people go off the quickest — I 
 mean that the people who have been better off, 
 and have paid rates for many years, are the 
 first to sink when they come into the house ; 
 and let me tell you, Mr. Bumble, that three or 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 55 
 
 four inches over one's calculation makes a great 
 hole in one's profits, especially when one has a 
 family to provide for, sir." 
 
 As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the be- 
 coming indignation of an ill-used man, and as 
 Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended to convey 
 a reflection on the honour of the parish, the lat- 
 ter gentleman thought it advisable to change 
 the subject ; and Oliver Twist being uppermost 
 in his mind, he made him his theme. 
 
 " By the bye," said Mr. Bumble, " you 
 don't know anybody who wants a boy, do you 
 — a porochial 'prentis, who is at present a dead- 
 weight — :a millstone, as I may say — round the 
 porochial throat? Liberal terms, Mr. Sower- 
 berry — liberal terms ; " — and, as !Mr. Bumble 
 spoke, he raised his cane to the bill above him, 
 and gave three distinct raps upon the words 
 " five pounds," which were printed thereon in 
 Roman capitals of gigantic size. 
 
 " Gadso!" said the undertaker, taking Mr. 
 Bumble by the gilt-edged lappel of his official 
 coat ; " that 's just the very thing I wanted to 
 
56 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 speak to you about. You know — dear me, 
 what a very elegant button this is, Mr. Bumble ; 
 I never noticed it before." 
 
 " Yes, I think it is rather pretty,*" said the 
 beadle, glancing proudly downwards at the large 
 brass buttons which embellished his coat. " The 
 die is the same as the porochial seal, — the Good 
 Samaritan healing the sick and bruised man. 
 The board presented it to me on New-year's 
 morning, Mr. Sowerberry. I put it on, I re- 
 member, for the first time, to attend the in- 
 quest on that reduced tradesman who died in a 
 doorway at midnight.'' 
 
 " I recollect," said the undertaker. " The 
 jury brought in, ' Died from exposure to the 
 cold, and want of the common necessaries of 
 life;— didn't they?" 
 Mr. Bumble nodded. 
 
 " And they made it a special verdict, I 
 think," said the undertaker, " by adding some 
 words to the effect, that if the relieving officer 
 had " 
 
 " Tush — foolery ! " interposed the beadle 
 angrily. " If the board attended to all the 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 57 
 
 nonsense that ignorant jurymen talk, they'd 
 have enough to do." 
 
 " Very true," said the undertaker ; " they 
 would indeed." 
 
 " Juries," said Mr. Bumble, grasping his 
 cane tightly, as was his wont when working 
 into a passion, — "juries is ineddicated, vulgar, 
 grovelling wretches." 
 
 " So they are," said the undertaker. 
 
 " They haven't no more philosophy nor poli- 
 tical economy about 'em than that," said the 
 beadle, snapping his fingers contemptuously. 
 
 " No more they have," acquiesced the under- 
 taker. 
 
 " I despise 'em," said the beadle, growing 
 very red in the face. 
 
 " So do I," rejoined the undertaker. 
 
 " And I only wish we 'd a jury of the inde- 
 pendent sort in the house for a week or two," 
 said the beadle ; " the rules and regulations of 
 the board would soon bring their spirit down 
 for them." 
 
 " Let 'em alone for that," replied the un- 
 dertaker. So saying, he smiled approvingly to 
 
 d5 
 
58 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 calm the rising wrath of the indignant parish 
 officer. 
 
 Mr. Bumble lifted off his cocked hat, took a 
 handkerchief from the inside of the crown, 
 wiped from his forehead the perspiration which 
 his rage had engendered, fixed the cocked hat 
 on again ; and, turning to the undertaker, said 
 in a calmer voice, 
 
 " Well; what about the boy ?"" 
 
 " Oh ! " replied the undertaker ; " why, you 
 know, Mr. Bumble, I pay a good deal towards 
 the poor's rates." 
 
 *' Hem !" said Mr. Bumble. " Well ?'' 
 
 " Well,'' replied the undertaker, " I was 
 thinking that if I pay so much towards 'em, 
 I 've a right to get as much out of 'em as I can, 
 Mr. Bumble ; and so — and so — I think I '11 take 
 the boy myself." 
 
 Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the 
 arm, and led him into the building. Mr. Sow- 
 erberry was closeted with the board for five 
 minutes, and it was arranged that Oliver 
 should go to him that evening '' upon liking," 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 59 
 
 — a phrase which means, in the case of a parish 
 apprentice, that if the master find, upon a short 
 trial, that he can get enough work out of a 
 boy without putting too much food in him, he 
 shall have him for a term of years, to do what 
 he likes with. 
 
 When little Oliver was taken before " the 
 gentlemen" that evening, and informed that 
 he was to go that night as general house-lad to 
 a coffin-maker^s, and that if he complained of 
 his situation, or ever came back to the parish 
 again, he would be sent to sea, there to be 
 drowned, or knocked on the head, as the case 
 might be, he evinced so little emotion, that they 
 by common consent pronounced him a hardened 
 young rascal, and ordered Mr. Bumble to re- 
 move him forthwith. 
 
 Now, although it was very natural that the 
 board, of all people in the world, should feel 
 in a great state of virtuous astonishment and 
 horror at the smallest tokens of want of feeling 
 on the part of anybody, they were rather out 
 in this particular instance. The simple fact 
 
60 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 was, that Oliver, instead of possessing too little 
 feeling, possessed rather too much, and was in a 
 fair way of being reduced to a state of brutal 
 stupidity and sullenness for life by the ill usage 
 he had received. He heard the news of his 
 destination in perfect silence, and, having had 
 his luggage put into his hand, — which was not 
 very difficult to carry, inasmuch as it was all 
 comprised within the limits of a brown paper 
 parcel, about half a foot square by three inches 
 deep, — -he pulled his cap over his eyes, and once 
 more attaching himself to Mr. Bumble's coat 
 cuff, was led away by that dignitary to a new 
 scene of suffering. 
 
 For some time Mr. Bumble drew Oliver 
 along without notice or remark, for the beadle 
 carried his head very erect, as a beadle always 
 should ; and, it being a windy day, little Oliver 
 was completely enshrouded by the skirts of Mr. 
 Bumble"'s coat as they blew open, and disclosed 
 to great advantage his flapped waistcoat and 
 drab plush knee-breeches. As they drew near 
 to their destination, however, Mr. Bumble 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 61 
 
 thought it expedient to look down and see that 
 the boy was in good order for inspection by his 
 new master, which he accordingly did, with a 
 fit and becoming air of gracious patronage. 
 
 '' Oliver !'' said Mr. Bumble. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Oliver, in a low, tre- 
 mulous voice. 
 
 " Pull that cap off of your eyes, and hold up 
 your head, sir."" 
 
 Although Oliver did as he was desired at 
 once, and passed the back of his unoccupied 
 hand briskly across his eyes, he • left a tear in 
 them when he looked up at his conductor. As 
 Mr. Bumble gazed sternly u2Jon him, it rolled 
 down his cheek. It was followed by another, 
 and another. The child made a strong effort, 
 but it was an unsuccessful one ; and, withdraw- 
 ing his other hand from ^Ir. Bumble's, he 
 covered his face with both, and wept till the 
 tears sprung out from between his thin and 
 bony fingers. 
 
 "Well!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble, stopping 
 !<hort, and darting at his httle charge a look of 
 
62 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 intense malignity, — '* well, of all the ungrate- 
 fullest and worst-disposed boys as ever I see, 
 Oliver, you are the "" 
 
 " No, no, sir,*' sobbed Oliver, clinging to the 
 hand which held the well-known cane ; "no, 
 no, sir ; I will be good indeed ; indeed, indeed 
 I will, sir ! I am a very little boy, sir ; and it 
 is so — so — '' 
 
 " So what?" inquired Mr. Bumble in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 '' So lonely, sir — so very lonely,'' cried the 
 child. " Everybody hates me. Oh ! sir, don't, 
 don't pray be cross to me." The child beat 
 his hand upon his heart, and looked into his 
 companion's face with tears of real agony. 
 
 Mr. Bumble regarded Oliver's piteous and 
 helpless look with some astonishment for a few 
 seconds, hemmed three or four times in a husky 
 manner, and, after muttering something about 
 " that troublesome cough," bid Oliver dry his 
 eyes and be a good boy ; and, once more taking 
 his hand, walked on with him in silence. 
 
 The undertaker had just put up the shutters 
 of his shop, and was making some entries in his 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 63 
 
 day-book by the light of a most appropriately 
 dismal candle, when Mr. Bumble entered. 
 
 " Aha ! " said the undertaker, looking up 
 from the book, and pausing in the middle of a 
 word; " is that you, Bumble?" 
 
 " No one else, Mr. Sowerberry,"" replied the 
 beadle. " Here, I Ve brought the boy." Oli- 
 ver made a bow. 
 
 *' Oh ! that 's the boy, is it ? " said the under- 
 taker, raising the candle above his head to get 
 a full glimpse of Oliver. " Mrs. Sowerberry ! 
 will you come here a moment, my dear.?" 
 
 Mrs. Sowerberry emerged from a little room 
 behind the shop, and presented the form of a 
 short, thin, squeezed-up woman, with a vixenish 
 countenance. 
 
 " My dear," said Mr. Sowerberry, deferenti- 
 ally, " this is the boy from the workhouse that 
 I told you of." Oliver bowed again. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said the undertaker's wife, 
 " he 's very small." 
 
 " Why, he is rather small," replied Mr. 
 Bumble, looking at Oliver as if it were his fault 
 that he was no bigger ; "he is small, — there 's 
 
64 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 110 denying it. But he 11 grow, Mrs. Sower- 
 berry, — he '11 grow." 
 
 " Ah ! I dare say he will," replied the lady 
 pettishly, " on our victuals and our drink. I see 
 no saving in parish children, not I ; for they 
 always cost more to keep than they Ve worth : 
 however, men always think they know best. 
 There, get down stairs, little bag o' bones." 
 With this, the undertaker's wife opened a side 
 door, and pushed Oliver down a steep flight of 
 stairs into a stone cell, damp and dark, forming 
 the ante-room to the coal-cellar, and denomi- 
 nated '' the kitchen," wherein sat a slatternly 
 girl in shoes down at heel, and blue worsted 
 stockings very much out of repair. 
 
 " Here, Charlotte," said Mrs. Sowerberry, 
 who had followed Oliver down, " give this boy 
 some of the cold bits that were put by for Trip : 
 he hasn't come home since the morning, so he 
 may go without 'em. I dare say he isn't too 
 dainty to eat 'em, — are you, boy.?" 
 
 Oliver, whose eyes had glistened at the men- 
 tion of meat, and who was trembling with 
 eagerness to devour it, replied in the negative ; 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 65 
 
 and a plateful of coarse broken victuals was 
 set before him. 
 
 I wish some well-fed philosopher, whose 
 meat and drink turn to gall within him, whose 
 blood is ice, and whose heart is iron, could have 
 seen Oliver Twist clutching at the dainty 
 viands that the dog had neglected, and wit- 
 nessed the horrible avidity with which he tore 
 the bits asunder with all the ferocity of famine : 
 — there is only one thing I should like better, 
 and that would be to see him making the same 
 sort of meal himself, with the same relish. 
 
 " Well,"" said the undertaker's wife, when 
 Oliver had finished his supper, which she had 
 regarded in silent horror, and with fearful 
 auguries of his future appetite, " have you 
 done?" 
 
 There being nothing eatable within his reach, 
 Oliver replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Then come with me," said Mrs. Sower- 
 berry, taking up a dim and dirty lamp, and 
 leading the way up stairs ; " your bed 's under 
 the counter. You won't mind sleeping among 
 the coffins, I suppose ? — but it doesn't much 
 
Ob OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 matter whether you will or not, for you won't 
 sleep anywhere else. Come ; don't keep me 
 here all night." 
 
 Oliver lingered no longer, but meekly follow- 
 ed his new mistress. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 67 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OLIVER MINGLES WITH KEW ASSOCIATES, AND, GOING 
 TO A FUNERAL FOR THE FIRST TIME, FORMS AN UN- 
 FAVOURABLE NOTION OF HIS MASTEr's BUSINESS. 
 
 Oliver, being left to himself in the under- 
 taker's shop, set the lamp down on a workman's 
 bench, and gazed timidly about him with a feel- 
 ing of awe and dread, which many people a 
 good deal older than he was will be at no loss to 
 understand. An unfinished coffin on black tres- 
 sels, which stood in the middle of the shop, 
 looked so gloomy and death-like that a cold 
 tremble came over him every time his eyes 
 wandered in the direction of the dismal object, 
 from which he almost expected to see some 
 frightful form slowly rear its head to drive him 
 mad with terror. Against the wall were ranged 
 in reg-ular array a long row of elm boards cut 
 
68 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 into the same shape, and looking in the dim 
 light like high-shouldered ghosts with their 
 hands in their breeches-pockets. Coffin-plates, 
 elm-chijis, bright-headed nails, and shreds of 
 black cloth, lay scattered on the floor ; and the 
 wall behind the counter was ornamented with a 
 lively representation of two mutes in very stiff" 
 neckcloths, on duty at a large private door, 
 with a hearse drawn by four black steeds ap- 
 proaching in the distance. The shop was close 
 and hot, and the atmosphere seemed tainted 
 with the smell of coffins. The recess beneath 
 the counter in which his flock mattress was 
 thrust, looked like a grave. 
 
 Nor were these the only dismal feelings 
 which depressed Oliver. He was alone in a 
 strange place ; and we all know how chilled and 
 desolate the best of us will sometimes feel in 
 such a situation. The boy had no friends to 
 care for, or to care for him. The regTet of no 
 recent separation was fresh in his mind; the 
 absence of no loved and well-remembered face 
 sunk heavily into his heart. But his heart was 
 heavy, notwithstanding; and he wished, as he 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 69 
 
 crept into his narrow bed, that that were his 
 coffin, and that he could be laid in a calm and 
 lasting sleep in the churchyard ground, with the 
 tall grass waving gently above his head, and the 
 sound of the old deep bell to soothe him in his 
 sleep. 
 
 Oliver was awakened in the morning by a 
 loud kicking at the outside of the shop-door, 
 which, before he could huddle on his clothes, 
 was repeated in an angry and impetuous manner 
 about twenty-five times ; and, when he began to 
 undo the chain, the legs left off their volleys, 
 and a voice began. 
 
 " Open the door, will yev?'" cried the voice 
 which belonged to the legs which had kicked at^ 
 the door. 
 
 " I will directly, sir," replied Oliver, undoing 
 the chain, and turning the key. 
 
 " I suppose yer the new boy, aVt yer?" 
 said the voice, through the key-hole. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Oliver. 
 
 " How old are yer?" inquired the voice. 
 
 " Ten, sir," rephed Oliver. 
 
 "= Then I'll whop yer when I get in," said 
 
70 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 the voice; " you just see if I don't, that's all, 
 my work'us brat!" and having made this obli- 
 ging promise, the voice began to whistle. 
 
 Oliver had been too often subjected to the 
 process to which the very expressive monosylla- 
 ble just recorded, bears reference, to entertain 
 the smallest doubt that the owner of the voice, 
 whoever he might be, would redeem his pledge 
 most honourably. He drew back the bolts 
 with a trembling hand, and opened the door. 
 
 For a second or two Ohver glanced up the 
 street, and down the street, and over the way, 
 impressed with the belief that the unknown, 
 who had addressed him through the key-hole, 
 had walked a few paces off to warm himself, 
 for nobody did he see but a big charity-boy 
 sitting on a post in front of the house, eating 
 a slice of bread and butter, which he cut into 
 wedges, the size of his mouth, with a clasp-knife, 
 and then consumed with great dexterity. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir,'' said Oliver, at 
 length : seeing that no other visitor made liis 
 appearance ; " did you knock ? " 
 
 " I kicked," replied the charity-boy. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 7l 
 
 " Did you want a coffin, sir ? "" inquired Oli- 
 ver, innocently. 
 
 At this the charity-boy looked monstrous 
 fierce, and said that Oliver would stand in need 
 of one before long, if he cut jokes with his su- 
 periors in that way. 
 
 " Yer don't know who I am, I suppose, 
 Work'us?" said the charity-boy, in continua- 
 tion ; descending from the top of the post, mean- 
 while, with edifying gravity. 
 '' No, sir," rejoined Oliver. 
 " I 'm Mister Noah Claypole," said the cha- 
 rity-boy, " and you 're under me. Take down 
 the shutters, yer idle young ruffian ! " With 
 this, Mr. Claypole administered a kick to Oliver, 
 and entered the shop with a dignified air, which 
 did him great credit. It is difficult for a large- 
 headed, small-eyed youth, of lumbering make 
 and heavy countenance, to look dignified under 
 any circumstances ; but it is more especially so, 
 when superadded to these personal attractions, 
 are a red nose and yellow smalls. 
 
 Oliver having taken down the shutters, and 
 broken a pane of glass in his efforts to stagger 
 
^^ OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 away beneath the weight of the first one to a 
 small court at the side of the house in which 
 they were kept during the day, was graciously 
 assisted by Noah, who, having consoled him 
 with the assurance that " he'd catch it,"" con- 
 descended to help him. Mr. Sowerberry came 
 down soon after, and, shortly afterwards, 
 Mrs. Sowerberry appeared ; and Oliver having 
 " caught it,'"* in fulfilment of Noah's prediction, 
 followed that young gentleman down stairs to 
 breakfast. 
 
 *' Come near the fire, Noah," said Charlotte. 
 " I saved a nice little piece of bacon for you 
 from master's breakfast. Oliver, shut that 
 door at Mister Noah's back, and take them bits 
 that I 've put out on the cover of the bread-pan. 
 There 's your tea ; take it away to that box, 
 and drink it there, and make haste, for they '11 
 want you to mind the shop. D' ye hear .^" 
 
 " D'ye hear, Work'us .^" said Noah Claypole. 
 
 " Lor, Noah !" said Charlotte, " what a rum 
 creature you are ! Why don't you let the boy 
 alone.?" 
 
 "Let him alone!" said Noah. "Why 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 13 
 
 everybody lets him alone enough, for the mat- 
 ter of that. Neither his father nor mother 
 will ever interfere with him : all his relations 
 let him have his own way pretty well. Eh, 
 Charlotte.? He ! he ! he!" 
 
 " Oh, you queer soul ! " said Charlotte, burst- 
 ing into a hearty laugh, in which she was joined 
 by Noah ; after which they both looked scorn- 
 fully at poor Oliver Twist, as he sat shivering 
 upon the box in the coldest corner of the room, 
 and ate the stale pieces which had been spe- 
 cially reserved for him. 
 
 Noah was a charity-boy, but not a work- 
 house orphan. No chance-child was he, for he 
 could trace his genealogy all the way back to 
 his parents, who lived hard by; his mother 
 being a washerwoman, and his father a drunken 
 soldier, discharged with a wooden leg and a 
 diurnal pension of twopence-halfpenny and an 
 unstateable fraction. The shop-boys in the 
 neighbourhood had long been in the habit of 
 branding Noah in the public streets with the 
 ignominious epithets of " leathers," " charity," 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 and the like ; and Noah had borne them with- 
 out reply. But now that fortune had cast in 
 his way a nameless orphan, at whom even the 
 meanest could point the finger of scorn, he re- 
 torted on him with interest. This affords 
 charming food for contemplation. It shows 
 us what a beautiful thing human nature some- 
 times is, and how impartially the same ami- 
 able qualities are developed in the finest 
 lord and the dirtiest charity-boy. 
 
 Oliver had been sojourning at the under- 
 taker''s some three weeks or a month, and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Sowerberry, the shop being shut up, 
 were taking their supper in the little back-par- 
 lour, when Mr. Sowerberry, after several defe- 
 rential glances at his wife, said, 
 
 '* My dear — " He was going to say more ; 
 but, Mrs. Sowerberry looking up with a pecu- 
 liarly unpropitious aspect, he stopped short. 
 
 " Well !" said Mrs. Sowerberry, sharply. 
 " Nothing, my dear, nothing,**^ said Mr. 
 Sowerberry. 
 
 " Ugh, you brute !" said Mrs. Sowerberry. 
 
 " Not at all, my dear," said Mr. Sowerberry 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 75 
 
 humbly. " I thought you didn't want to hear, 
 my dear. I was only going to say " 
 
 " Oh, don 't tell me what you were going 
 to say,"" interposed Mrs. Sowerberay. " I 
 am nobody ; don't consult me, pray. / don't 
 want to intrude upon your secrets." And, as 
 Mrs. Sowerberry said this, she gave an hys- 
 terical laugh, which threatened violent conse- 
 quences. 
 
 " But, my dear," said Sowerberry, " I want 
 to ask your advice." 
 
 " No, no, don't ask mine," replied Mrs. 
 Sowerberry, in an affecting manner ; " ask 
 somebody else's. Here there was another 
 hysterical laugh, which frightened Mr. Sower- 
 berry very much. This is a very common and 
 much-approved matrimonial course of treatment, 
 which is often very effective. It at once re- 
 duced Mr. Sowerberry to begging as a special 
 favour to be allowed to say what Mrs. Sower- 
 berry was most curious to hear, and, after a 
 short altercation of less than three quarters of 
 an hour's duration, the permission was most 
 graciously conceded, 
 
 e2 
 
76 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " It's only about young Twist, my dear,''' 
 said Mr. Sowcrberry. " A vory good-looking 
 boy that, my dear." 
 
 '• He need be, for he eats enough,'" observed 
 the lady. 
 
 " There's an expression of melancholy in 
 his face, my dear," resumed Mr. Sowerberry, 
 " which is very interesting, lie would make 
 a delightful mui(^, my diiar." 
 
 Mrs. Sowerberry lookcid up with an expres- 
 sion of considerable wonderment. Mr. Sower- 
 berry remarked it, and, without allowing time 
 for any observation on the good lady's ])art, 
 proceeded. 
 
 "" I don't mean a regular mute to attend 
 grown-up peoj)l(i, my dear, but only for chil- 
 (hx'u's j)ractice. It would be very new to have 
 a mute in proportion, my dear. You may de- 
 pend upon it that it would have a superb 
 effect." 
 
 Mrs. Sowerberry, who had a good deal of 
 taste in the undertaking way, was much struck 
 by the novelty of this idea ; but, as it would 
 have been compromising her dignity to have 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 77 
 
 said so under existing circumstances, she merely 
 inquired with much sliarj)uess why such mi ob- 
 vious suggestion had not presented itself to her 
 husband's mind l)efore. Mr. Sowerberry right- 
 ly construed this as an acquiescence in his ])ro- 
 position ; it was speedily determined tliat Oliver 
 should be at once initiated into tlii^ mysteries 
 of the profession, and, with this view, that he 
 should accompany his master on the very next 
 occasion of his services being required. 
 
 The occasion was not long in coming; for, 
 half an hour after breakfast next morning, Mr. 
 Bumble entered the shop, and supporting his 
 cane against the counter, drew forth his large 
 leathern ])Ocket-book, from which ]w selectcul a 
 small scrap of pa[)er, which he handed over (o 
 Sowerberry. 
 
 " Aha ! " said the undertaker, glancing over 
 it with a lively countenance ; " an onler for a 
 coffin, eh?" 
 
 " For a coffin first, and a porochial funeral 
 afterwards," replied Mr. Bumble, fastening the 
 strap of the leathern pocket-book, which, like 
 himself, was very cor])ulent. 
 
78 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Baytoii," said the undertaker, looking from 
 the scrap of paper to Mr. Bumble ; '"' I never 
 heard the name before." 
 
 Bumble shook his head as he repHed, " Ob- 
 stinate people, Mr. Sowerberry, very obstinate ; 
 proud, too, I 'm afraid, sir." 
 
 " Proud, eh ? " exclaimed Mr. Sowerberry 
 with a sneer. — '' Come, that 's too much." 
 
 " Oh, it's sickening," replied the beadle ; 
 " perfectly antiraonial, Mr. Sowerberry." 
 
 " So it is," acquiesced the undertaker. 
 
 " We only heard of them the night before 
 last," said the beadle ; " and we shouldn't have 
 known anything about them then, only a wo- 
 man who lodges in the same house made an ap- 
 plication to the porochial committee for them to 
 send the porochial surgeon to see a woman as 
 was very bad. He had gone out to dinner; 
 but his 'prentice, which is a very clever lad, sent 
 'em some medicine in a blacking-bottle, off- 
 hand." 
 
 " Ah, there 's promptness," said the under- 
 taker. 
 
 " Promptness, indeed!" rephed the beadle. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 79 
 
 " But what 's the consequence ; what 's the un- 
 grateful behaviour of these rebels, sir ? Why, 
 the husband sends back word that the medicine 
 won't suit his wife's complaint, and so she 
 shan't take it — says she shan't take it, sir. 
 Good, strong, wholesome medicine, as was given 
 with great success to two Irish labourers and 
 a coalheaver only a week before — sent 'em for 
 nothing, with a blackin-bottle in, — and he sends 
 back word that she shan't take it, sir." 
 
 As the flagrant atrocity presented itself to 
 Mr. Bumble's mind in full force, he struck the 
 counter sharply with his cane, and became 
 flushed with indignation. 
 
 " Well," said the undertaker, " I ne — ver — 
 did—-" 
 
 " Never did, sir ! " ejaculated the beadle, — 
 " no, nor nobody never did ; but, now she 's 
 dead, we 've got to bury her, and that 's the 
 direction, and the sooner it 's done the better." 
 
 Thus saying, Mr. Bumble put on his cocked 
 hat wrong side first, in a fever of parochial 
 excitement, and flounced out of the shop. 
 
 " Why, he was so angry, Oliver, that he for- 
 
80 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 got even to ask after you,'" said Mr. Sowerberry, 
 looking after the beadle as he strode down the 
 street. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Oliver, who had carefully 
 kept himself out of sight during the interview, 
 and who was shaking from head to foot at the 
 mere recollection of the sound of Mr. Bumble's 
 voice. He needn''t have taken the trouble to 
 shrink from Mr. Bumble's glance, however ; for 
 that functionary, on whom the prediction of the 
 gentleman in the white waistcoat had made a 
 very strong impression, thought that now the 
 undertaker had got Oliver upon trial, the sub- 
 ject was better avoided, until such time as he 
 should be firmly bound for seven years, and all 
 danger of his being returned upon the hands of 
 the parish should be thus effectually and legally 
 overcome. 
 
 '' Well," said Mr. Sowerberry, taking up his 
 hat, " the sooner this job is done the better. 
 Noah, look after the shop. Oliver, put on your 
 cap, and come with me." Oliver obeyed, and 
 followed his master on his professional mission. 
 
 They walked on for some time thiH)ugh the 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 81 
 
 most crowded and densely inhabited part of the 
 town, and then striking down a narrow street 
 more dirty and miserable than any they had 
 yet passed through, paused to look for the house 
 which was the object of their search. The houses 
 on either side were high and large, but very old, 
 and tenanted by people of the poorest class, as 
 their neglected appearance would have suffici- 
 ently denoted without the concurrent testimony 
 afforded by the squalid looks of the few men 
 and women who, with folded arms and bodies 
 half doubled, occasionally skulked along. A 
 great many of the tenements had shop-fronts ; 
 but they were fast closed, and mouldering 
 away: only the upper rooms being inhabited. 
 Others, which had become insecure from age 
 and decay, were prevented from falling into 
 the street by huge beams of wood which were 
 reared against the walls, and firmly plant- 
 ed in the road; but even these crazy dens 
 seemed to have been selected as the nightly 
 haunts of some houseless wretches, for many 
 of the rough boards which supplied the place of 
 door and window, were wrenched from their 
 
 E 5 
 
82 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 positions to aiford an aperture wide enough for 
 the passage of a human body. The kennel was 
 stagnant and filthy ; the very rats which here 
 and there lay putrefying in its rottenness, were 
 hideous with famine. 
 
 There was neither knocker nor bell-handle 
 at the open door where Oliver and his master 
 stopped ; so, groping his way cautiously through 
 the dark passage, and bidding Oliver keep close 
 to him and not be afraid, the undertaker mount- 
 ed to the top of the first flight of stairs, and, 
 stumbling against a door on the landing, rapped 
 at it with his knuckles. 
 
 It was opened by a young girl of thirteen or 
 fourteen. The undertaker at once saw enough 
 of what the room contained, to know it was the 
 apartment to which he had been directed. He 
 stepped in, and Oliver followed him. 
 
 There was no fire in the room ; but a man 
 was crouching mechanically over the empty 
 stove. An old woman, too, had drawn a low 
 stool to the cold hearth, and was sitting beside 
 him. There were some ragged children in 
 another corner ; and in a small recess opposite 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 83 
 
 the door there lay upon the ground something- 
 covered with an old blanket. Oliver shuddered 
 as he cast his eyes towards the place, and 
 crept involuntarily closer to his master ; for 
 though it was covered up, the hoy felt that it 
 was a corpse. 
 
 The man's face was thin and very pale ; his 
 hair and beard were grizzly, and his eyes were 
 bloodshot. The old woman's face was wrinkled, 
 her two remaining teeth protruded over her 
 under lip, and her eyes were bright and pier- 
 cing. Oliver was afraid to look at either her or 
 the man, — they seemed so like the rats he had 
 seen outside. 
 
 " Nobody shall go near her," said the man, 
 starting fiercely up, as the undertaker approach- 
 ed the recess. " Keep back ! d — n you, keep 
 back, if you Ve a life to lose."*' 
 
 " Nonsense ! my good man,**' said the under- 
 taker, who was pretty well used to misery in 
 all its shapes, — " nonsense ! '' 
 
 " I tell you," said the man, clenching hid 
 hands, and stamping furiously on the floor, — 
 " I tell you I won't have her put into the 
 
84 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 ground. She couldn't rest there. The worms 
 would worry — not eat her, — she is so worn 
 away." 
 
 The undertaker oiFered no reply to this 
 raving, but producing a tape from his pocket, 
 knelt down for a moment by the side of the 
 body. 
 
 "Ah!"" said the man, bursting into tears, 
 and sinking on his knees at the feet of the dead 
 woman ; " kneel down, kneel down — kneel 
 round her every one of you, and mark my 
 words. I say she was starved to death. I never 
 knew how bad she was till the fever came upon 
 her, and then her bones were starting through 
 the skin. There was neither fire nor candle ; 
 she died in the dark — in the dark. She couldn't 
 even see her children's faces, though we heard 
 her gasping out their names. I begged for her 
 in the streets, and they sent me to prison. 
 When I came back, she was dying ; and all the 
 blood in my heart has dried up, for they starved 
 her to death. I swear it before the God that 
 saw it, — they starved her ! '' — He twined his 
 hands in his hair, and with a loud scream rolled 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 85 
 
 grovelling upon the floor, his eyes fixed, and the 
 foam gushing from his lips. 
 
 The terrified children cried hitterly ; but the 
 old woman, who had hitherto remained as quiet 
 as if she had been wholly deaf to all that pass- 
 ed, menaced them into silence, and having 
 unloosened the man's cravat, who still remained 
 extended on the ground, tottered towards the 
 undertaker. 
 
 " She was my daughter," said the old woman, 
 nodding her head in the direction of the corpse, 
 and speaking with an idiotic leer, more ghastly 
 than even the presence of death itself. — " Lord, 
 Lord ! — well, it is strange that I who gave birth 
 to her, and was a woman then, should be alive 
 and merry now, and she lying there so cold and 
 stiff! Lord, Lord! — to think of it; — it's as 
 good as a play — as good as a play ! " 
 
 As the wretched creature mumbled and 
 chuckled in her hideous merriment, the under- 
 taker turned to go away. 
 
 *■' Stop, stop ! " said the old woman in a loud 
 whisper. " Will she be buried to-morrow — or 
 next day — or to-night ? I laid her out, and I 
 
86 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 must walk, you know. Send me a large cloak 
 — a good warm one, for it is bitter cold. We 
 should have cake and wine, too, before we go ! 
 Never mind : send some bread — only a loaf of 
 bread and a cup of water. Shall we have some 
 bread, dear ? " she said eagerly, catching at the 
 undertaker's coat, as he once more moved 
 towards the door. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the undertaker, " of course ; 
 anything, everything." He disengaged himself 
 from the old woman's grasp, and, dragging 
 Oliver after him, hurried away. 
 
 The next day, (the family having been mean- 
 while relieved with a half-quartern loaf and a 
 piece of cheese, left with them by Mr. Bumble 
 himself,) Oliver and his master returned to the 
 miserable abode, where Mr. Bumble had already 
 arrived, accompanied by four men from the 
 workhouse, who were to act as bearers. An 
 old black cloak had been thrown over the rags 
 of the old woman and the man ; and the bare 
 coffin having been screwed down, was hoisted on 
 the shoulders of the bearers, and carried into 
 the street. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 87 
 
 '' Now, you must put your best leg foremost, 
 old lady," whispered Sowerberry in the old wo- 
 man'*s ear ; " we are rather late, and it won't do 
 to keep the clergyman waiting. Move on, my 
 men, — as qui<;k as you like." 
 
 Thus directed, the bearers trotted on under 
 their light burden, and the two mourners kept 
 as near them as they could. Mr. Bumble and 
 Sowerberry walked at a good smart pace in 
 front ; and Oliver, whose legs were not so long 
 a^ his master's, ran by the side. 
 
 There was not so great a necessity for hurry- 
 ing as Mr. Sowerberry had anticipated, how- 
 ever ; for when they reached the obscure corner 
 of the churchyard in which the nettles grew, 
 and the parish graves were made, the clergyman 
 had not arrived, and the clerk, who was sitting 
 by the vestry-room fire, seemed to think it by 
 no means improbable that it might be an hour 
 or so before he came. So they put the bier 
 down on the brink of the grave ; and the two 
 mourners waited patiently in the damp clay 
 with a cold rain drizzling down, while the rag- 
 ged boys, whom the spectacle had attracted into 
 
88 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 the churchyard, played a noisy game at hide- 
 and-seek among the tombstones, or varied their 
 amusements by jumping backwards and forwards 
 over the coffin. Mr. Sowerberry and Bumble, 
 being personal friends of the clerk, sat by the 
 fire with him, and read the paper. 
 
 At length, after the lapse of something more 
 than an hour, Mr. Bumble, and Sowerberry, 
 and the clerk, were seen running towards the 
 grave ; and immediately afterwards the clergy- 
 man appeared, putting on his surj^Hce as he 
 came along. Mr. Bumble then threshed a boy 
 or two, to keep up appearances ; and the re- 
 verend gentleman, having read as much of the 
 burial service as could be compressed into four 
 minutes, gave his surplice to the clerk, and ran 
 away again. 
 
 " Now, Bill," said Sowerberry to the grave- 
 digger, " fill up." 
 
 It was no very difficult task, for the grave 
 was so full that the uppermost coffin was within 
 a few feet of the surface. The grave-digger 
 shovelled in the earth, stamped it loosely down 
 with his feet, shouldered his spade, and walked 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 89 
 
 off, followed by the boys, who murmured very 
 loud complaints at the fun being over so 
 soon. 
 
 " Come, my good fellow," said Bumble, tap- 
 ping the man on the back, " they want to shut 
 up the yard." 
 
 The man, who had never once moved since 
 he had taken his station by the grave side, 
 started, raised his head, stared at the person 
 who had addressed him, walked forward for a 
 few paces, and fell down in a swoon. The 
 crazy old woman was too much occupied in 
 bewailing the loss of her cloak (which the un- 
 dertaker had taken off) to pay him any atten- 
 tion ; so they threw a can of cold water over 
 him, and when he came to, saw him safely out 
 of the churchyard, locked the gate, and depart- 
 ed on their different ways. 
 
 " Well, Oliver," said Sowerberry, as they 
 walked home, " how do you like it ?" 
 
 "- Pretty well, thank you, sir," rephed Oli- 
 ver, with considerable hesitation. " Not very 
 much, sir." 
 
 " Ah, you'll get used to it in time, Oliver," 
 
90 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 said Sowerberry. " Nothing when you are 
 used to it, my boy." 
 
 Ohver wondered in his own mind whether it 
 had taken a very long time to get Mr. Sower- 
 berry used to it ; but he thought it better not to 
 ask the question, and walked back to the shop, 
 thinking over all he had seen and heard. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 91 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OLIVER, BEING GOADED BY THE TAUNTS OF NOAH, ROUSES 
 INTO ACTION, AND RATHER ASTONISHES HIM. 
 
 The month's trial over, Oliver was formally 
 apprenticed. It was a nice sickly season just 
 at this time. In commercial phrase, coffins 
 were looking up, and, in the course of a few 
 weeks, Oliver had acquired a great deal of 
 experience. The success of Mr. Sowerberry's 
 ingenious speculation exceeded even his most 
 sanguine hopes. The oldest inhabitants recol- 
 lected no period at which measles had been so 
 prevalent, or so fatal to infant existence ; and 
 many were the mournful processions which little 
 Oliver headed in a hat-band reaching down to 
 his knees, to the indescribable admiration and 
 emotion of all the mothers in the town. As 
 Oliver accompanied his master in most of his 
 
92 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 adult expeditions too, in order that he might 
 acquire that equanimity of demeanour and full 
 command of nerve which are so essential to a 
 . finished undertaker, he had many opportunities 
 of observing the beautiful resignation and for- 
 titude with which some strong-minded people 
 bear their trials and losses. 
 
 For instance, when Sowerberry had an order 
 for the burial of some rich old lady or gentle- 
 man, who was surrounded by a great number of 
 nephews and nieces, who had been perfectly 
 inconsolable during the previous illness, and 
 whose grief had been wholly irrepressible even 
 on the most public occasions, they would be as 
 happy among themselves as need be — quite 
 cheerful and contented, conversing together 
 with as much freedom and gaiety as if nothing 
 whatever had happened to disturb them. Hus- 
 bands, too, bore the loss of their wives with the 
 most heroic calmness ; and wives, again, put on 
 weeds for their husbands, as if, so far from griev- 
 ing in the garb of sorrow, they had made up 
 their minds to render it as becoming and at- 
 tractive as possible. It was observable, too, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 93 
 
 that ladies and gentlemen who were in passions 
 of anguish during the ceremony of interment, 
 recovered almost as soon as they reached home, 
 and became quite composed before the tea-drink- 
 ing was over. All this was very pleasant and 
 improving to see, and Oliver beheld it with 
 great admiration. 
 
 That Oliver Twist was moved to resignation 
 by the example of these good people, I cannot, 
 although I am his biographer, undertake to af- 
 firm with any degree of confidence ; but I can 
 most distinctly say, that for many months he 
 continued meekly to submit to the domination 
 and ill-treatment of Noah Claypole, who used 
 him far worse than ever, now that his jealousy 
 was roused by seeing the new boy promoted to 
 the black stick and hat-band, while he, the old 
 one, remained stationary in the muffin-cap and 
 leathers. Charlotte treated him badly because 
 Noah did; and Mrs. Sowerberry was his de- 
 cided enemy because Mr. Sowerberry was dis- 
 posed to be his friend : so, between these three 
 on one side, and a glut of fmierals on the other, 
 Oliver was not altogether as comfortable as the 
 
94 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 hungry pig was, when he was shut up hy mis- 
 take in the grain department of a brewery. 
 
 And now I come to a very important passage 
 in Ohver''s history, for I have to record an act, 
 shght and unimportant perhaps in appearance, 
 hut which indirectly produced a most material 
 change in all his future prospects and proceed- 
 ings. 
 
 One day Oliver and Noah had descended 
 into the kitchen, at the usual dinner-hour, to 
 banquet upon a small joint of mutton — a pound 
 and a half of the worst end of the neck ; when, 
 Charlotte being called out of the way, there en- 
 sued a brief interval of time, which Noah Clay- 
 pole, being hungry and vicious, considered he 
 could not possibly devote to a worthier purpose 
 than aggravating and tantalising young Oliver 
 Twist. 
 
 Intent upon this innocent amusement, Noah 
 put his feet on the table-cloth, and pulled Oli- 
 ver's hair, and twitched his ears, and expressed 
 his opinion that he was a " sneak,'' and further- 
 more announced his intention of coming to see 
 him hung- whenever that desirable event should 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 95 
 
 take place, and entered upon various other 
 topics of petty annoyance, like a malicious and 
 ill-conditioned charity-boy as he was. But, 
 none of these taunts producing the desired 
 effect of making Oliver cry, Noah attempted to 
 be more facetious still, and in this attempt did 
 what many small wits, with far greater reputa- 
 tions than Noah, notwithstanding, do to this day 
 when they want to be funny ; — he got rather 
 personal. 
 
 " Work'us," said Noah, " how 's your mo- 
 ther.?" 
 
 " She 's dead,*" repHed Oliver ; '' don't you 
 say anything about her to me ! " 
 
 Oliver's colour rose as he said this ; he 
 breathed quickly, and there was a curious 
 working of the mouth and nostrils, which Mr. 
 Claypole thought must be the immediate pre- 
 cursor of a violent fit of crying. Under this 
 impression, he returned to the charge. 
 
 " What did she die of, Work'us?'' said 
 Noah. 
 
 " Of a broken heart, some of our old nurses 
 told me,'' replied Oliver, more as if he were 
 
96 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 talking to himself than answering Noah. '^ I 
 think I know what it mnst be to die of that ! '' 
 
 *' Tol (le rol lol lol, right fol lairy, Work us,'' 
 said Noah, as a tear rolled do^vn Oliver's cheek. 
 " What's set you a-snivelling now?" 
 
 '* Not j/02/," replied Oliver, hastily brushing 
 the tear away. " Don't think it." 
 
 " Oh, not me, eh?" sneered Noah. 
 " No, not you," replied Oliver, sharply. 
 " There ; that 's enough. Don't say anything 
 more to me about her ; you 'd better not ! " 
 
 " Better not!" exclaimed Noah. " Well! 
 better not ! Work'us, don't be impudent. Your 
 mother, too ! She was a nice 'un, she was. 
 Oh, Lor ! " And here Noah nodded his head 
 expressively, and curled up as much of his small 
 red nose as muscular action could collect toge- 
 ther for the occasion. 
 
 " Yerknow, Work'us," continued Noah, em- 
 boldened by Oliver's silence, and speaking in a 
 jeering tone of affected pity — of all tones the 
 most annoying — " Yer know, Work'us, it carn't 
 be helped now, and of course yer couldn't help 
 it then, and I 'm very sorry for it, and I 'm sure 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 97 
 
 we all are, and pity yer very much. But yer 
 must know, Work'us, yer mother was a regular 
 right-down bad 'un." 
 
 " What did you say?" inquired Oliver, look- 
 ing up very quickly. 
 
 " A regular right-down bad 'un, Work'us," 
 replied Noah, coolly; "and it's a great deal 
 better, Work'us, that she died when she did, or 
 else she'd have been hard labouring in Bride- 
 well, or transported, or hung, which is more 
 likely than either, isn't it.?" 
 
 Crimson with fury, Oliver started up, over- 
 threw chair and table, seized Noah by the 
 throat, shook him in the violence of his rage 
 till his teeth chattered in his head, and, collect- 
 ing his whole force into one heavy blow, felled 
 him to the ground. 
 
 A minute ago the boy had looked the quiet, 
 mild, dejected creature that harsh treatment 
 had made him. ^But his spirit was roused at 
 last; the cruel insult to his dead mother had 
 set his blood on fire. His breast heaved, his 
 attitude was erect, his eye bright and vivid, 
 and his whole person changed, as he stood 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 glaring over the cowardly tormentor who lay 
 crouching at his feet, and defied him with an 
 energy he had never known before. 
 
 " He 11 murder me ! " blubbered Noah. 
 " Charlotte ! missis ! here 's the new boy a-mur- 
 dering of me ! Help ! help ! Oliver's gone 
 mad! Char— lotte ! '' 
 
 Noah's shouts were responded to by a loud 
 scream from Charlotte, and a louder from Mrs. 
 Sowerberry; the former of whom rushed into 
 the kitchen by a side-door, while the latter 
 paused on the staircase till she was quite certain 
 that it was consistent with the preservation of 
 human life to come further down. 
 
 '' Oh, you httle wretch !'' screamed Char- 
 lotte, seizing Oliver with her utmost force, 
 which was about equal to that of a moderately 
 strong man in particularly good training, — " Oh, 
 you little un-grate-ful, mur-de-rous, hor-rid vil- 
 lain ! " and between every syllable Charlotte 
 gave Oliver a bloAv with all her might, and ac- 
 companied it with a scream for the benefit of 
 society. 
 
 Charlotte's fist was by no means a light one ; 
 
^^ /zy^.^::/^^ ,y^/. a^ ^/^./yU/, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 99 
 
 but, lest it should not be effectual in calming 
 Oliver's wrath, Mrs. Sowerberry plunged into 
 the kitchen, and assisted to hold him with one 
 hand, while she scratched his face with the 
 other; in this favourable position of affairs 
 Noah rose from the ground, and pummeled him 
 from behind. 
 
 This was rather too violent exercise to last 
 long. When they were all three wearied out, 
 and could tear and beat no longer, they dragged 
 Oliver, struggling and shouting, but nothing 
 daunted, into the dust-cellar, and there locked 
 him up ; this being done, Mrs. Sowerberry 
 sunk into a chair, and burst into tears. 
 
 " Bless her, she's going off!" said Charlotte. 
 " A glass of water, Noah, dear. Make haste." 
 
 " Oh ! Charlotte," said Mrs. Sowerberry, 
 speaking as well as she could through a defici- 
 ency of breath and a sufficiency of cold water 
 which Noah had poured over her head and 
 shoulders, — " Oh ! Charlotte, what a mercy we 
 have not been all murdered in our bods !" 
 
 " Ah ! mercy indeed, ma'am," was the reply. 
 ^' I only hope this '11 teach master not to have 
 
 F 2 
 
100 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 any more of these dreadful creatures that are 
 born to be murderers and robbers from their 
 very cradle. Poor Noah ! he was all but killed, 
 ma'am, when I came in." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said Mrs. Sowerberry, look- 
 ing piteously on the charity-boy. 
 
 Noah, whose top waistcoat-button might have 
 been somewhere on a level with the crown of 
 Oliver's head, rubbed his eyes with the inside 
 of his wrists while this commiseration was be- 
 stowed uj^on him, and performed some affecting 
 tears and sniffs. 
 
 "What's to be done!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Sowerberry. " Your master 's not at home, — 
 there 's not a man in the house, — and he '11 kick 
 that door down in ten minutes." Oliver's 
 vigorous plunges against the bit of timber in 
 question rendered this occurrence highly pro- 
 bable. 
 
 " Dear, dear ! I don't know, ma'am," said 
 Charlotte, " unless we send for the police-offi- 
 cers." 
 
 " Or the millingtary," suggested Mr. Clay- 
 pole. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 101 
 
 " No, no," said Mrs. Sowerberry, bethinking 
 herself of Oliver's old friend ; " run to Mr. 
 Bumble, Noah, and tell him to come here di- 
 rectly, and not to lose a minute; never mind 
 your cap — make haste. You can hold a knife 
 to that black eye as you run along, and it ^11 
 keep the swelling down." 
 
 Noah stopped to make no reply, but started 
 off at his fullest speed ; and very much it asto- 
 nished the people who were out walking, to see 
 a charity-boy tearing through the streets pell- 
 mell, with no cap on his head, and a clasp-knife 
 at his eye. 
 
102 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 OLIVER CONTINUES REFRACTORY. 
 
 Noah Claypole ran along the streets at his 
 swiftest pace, and paused not once for breath 
 until he reached the workhouse-gate. Having 
 rested here for a minute or so, to collect a good 
 burst of sobs and an imposing show of tears 
 and terror, he knocked loudly at the wicket, 
 and presented such a rueful face to the aged 
 pauper who opened it, that even he, who saw 
 nothing but rueful faces about him at the best 
 of times, started back in astonishment. 
 
 "Why, whafs the matter with the boy?" 
 said the old pauper. 
 
 " Mr. Bumble ! Mr. Bumble ! "" cried Noah, 
 with well-affected dismay, and in tones so loud 
 and agitated that they not only caught the ear 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 103 
 
 of Mr. Bumble himself, who happened to be 
 hard by, but alarmed him so much that he 
 rushed into the yard without his cocked hat, — 
 which is a very curious and remarkable circum- 
 stance, as showing that even a beadle, acted 
 upon by a sudden and powerful impulse, may 
 be afflicted with a momentary visitation of loss 
 of self-possession, and forgetfulness of personal 
 dignity. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Bumble, sir !" said Noah ; " Oli- 
 ver, sir, — Oliver has " 
 
 " What?— what?" interposed Mr. Bumble, 
 with a gleam of pleasure in his metallic eyes. 
 " Not run away ; he hasn't run away, has he, 
 Noah?" 
 
 " No, sir, no ; not run away, sir, but he 's 
 turned wicious," replied Noah. '' He tried to 
 murder me, sir, and then he tried to murder 
 Charlotte, and then missis. Oh ! what dreadful 
 pain it is ! such agony, please, sir I " and here 
 Noah writhed and twisted his body into an 
 extensive variety of eel-like positions ; thereby 
 giving Mr. Bumble to understand that, from 
 the violent and sanguinary onset of Oliver 
 
104 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 Twist, he had sustamed severe internal injury 
 and damage, from which he was at that mo- 
 ment suffering the acutest torture. 
 
 When Noah s^aw that the intelligence he 
 communicated perfectly paralysed Mr. Bumble, 
 he imparted additional eifect thereunto, by 
 bewailing his dreadful wounds ten times louder 
 than before ; and, when he observed a gentle- 
 man in a white waistcoat crossing the yard, he 
 was more tragic in his lamentations than ever, 
 rightly conceiving it highly expedient to attract 
 the notice, and rouse the indignation, of the 
 gentleman aforesaid. 
 
 The gentleman's notice was very soon attract- 
 ed, for he had not walked three paces when he 
 turned angrily round, and inquired what that 
 young cur was howHng for, and why Mr. Bum- 
 ble did not favour him with something which 
 would render the series of vocular exclamations 
 so designated, an involuntary process. 
 
 "It's a poor boy from the free-school, sir,'" 
 replied Mr. Bumble, " who has been nearly 
 murdered — all but murdered, sir — by young 
 Twist." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 105 
 
 " By Jove !" exclaimed the gentleman in the 
 white waistcoat, stopping short. " I knew it ! 
 I felt a strange presentiment from the very first, 
 that that audacious young savage would come 
 to be hung ! " 
 
 " He has likewise attempted, sir, to murder 
 the female servant,'** said Mr. Bumble, with a 
 face of ashy paleness. 
 
 " And his missis," interposed Mr. Claypole. 
 
 " And his master, too, I think you said, 
 Noah?" added Mr. Bumble. 
 
 " No ; he's out, or he would have murdered 
 him," rephed Noah. " He said he wanted 
 to—" 
 
 " Ah ! said he wanted to — did he, my boy ?" 
 inquired the gentleman in the white waistcoat. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Noah ; " and please, sir, 
 missis wants to know whether Mr. Bumble can 
 spare time to step up there directly and flog 
 him, 'cause master 's out." 
 
 " Certainly, my boy ; certainly," said the 
 gentleman in the white waistcoat, smiling be- 
 nignly, and patting Noah's head, which was 
 about three inches higher than his own, 
 
 F 5 
 
106 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 '' You're a good boy — a very good boy. 
 Here 's a penny for you. Bumble, just step 
 up to Sowerberry's with your cane, and see 
 what's best to be done. Don't spare him, 
 Bumble." 
 
 " No, I will not, sir," repHed the beadle, 
 adjusting the wax-end which was twisted round 
 the bottom of his cane for purposes of parochial 
 flagellation. 
 
 " Tell Sowerberry not to spare him either. 
 They'll never do anything with him without 
 stripes and bruises," said the gentleman in the 
 white waistcoat. 
 
 " I '11 take care, sir," replied the beadle. 
 And the cocked hat and cane having been 
 by this time adjusted to their owner's satisfac- 
 tion, Mr. Bumble and Noah Claypole betook 
 themselves with all speed to the undertaker's 
 shop. 
 
 Here the position of affairs had not at all im- 
 proved, or Sowerberry had not yet returned, 
 and Oliver continued to kick with undiminished 
 vigour at the cellar-door. The accounts of 
 his ferocity, as related by Mrs. Sowerberry and 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 107 
 
 Charlotte, were of so startling a nature that Mr. 
 Bumble judged it prudent to parley before 
 opening the door. With this view, he gave a 
 kick at the outside, by way of prelude, and 
 then, applying his mouth to the keyhole, said, 
 in a deep and impressive tone, 
 " Oliver !'' 
 
 " Come ; you let me out ! " replied Oliver, 
 from the inside. 
 
 " Do you know this here voice, Oliver ?'' said 
 Mr. Bumble. 
 
 " Yes," replied Oliver. 
 
 " Ain't you afraid of it, sir ? Ain't you a- 
 trembling while I speak, sir ? " said Mr. Bum- 
 ble. 
 
 '' No !" replied Oliver boldly. 
 An answer so different from the one he 
 had expected to elicit, and was in the habit of 
 receiving, staggered Mr. Bumble not a little. 
 He stepped back from the keyhole, drew him- 
 self up to his full height, and looked from one to 
 another of the three by-standers in mute asto- 
 nishment. 
 
 '' Oh, you know Mr. Bumble, he must 
 
108 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 be mad,'' said Mrs. Sowerberry. " No boy in 
 half his senses could venture to speak so to 
 you." 
 
 " It's not madness, ma'am," replied Mr. 
 Bumble, after a few moments of deep medita- 
 tion ; " it's meat." 
 
 '' What !" exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. 
 
 " Meat, ma'am, meat," replied Bumble, with 
 stern emphasis. " You 've overfed him, ma'am. 
 You 've raised a artificial soul and spirit in him, 
 ma'amj unbecoming a person of his condition, 
 as the board, Mrs. Sowerberry, who are 23rac- 
 tical philosophers, will tell you. What have 
 paupers to do with soul or spirit either ? It 's 
 quite enough that we let 'em have live bodies. 
 If you had kept the boy on gruel, ma'am, this 
 would never have happened." 
 
 " Dear, dear!" ejaculated Mrs. Sowerberry, 
 piously raising her eyes to the kitchen ceiling. 
 " This comes of being liberal ! " 
 
 The liberality of Mrs. Sowerberry to Oliver 
 had consisted in a profuse bestowal upon him 
 of all the dirty odds and ends which nobody 
 else would eat ; so that there was a great deal 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 109 
 
 of meekness and self-devotion in her voluntarily 
 remaining under Mr. Bumble's heavy accusa- 
 tion, of which, to do her justice, she was wholly 
 innocent in thought, word, or deed. 
 
 "Ah!" said Mr. Bumble, when the lady 
 brought her eyes down to earth again. " The 
 only thing that can be done now, that I know 
 of, is to leave him in the cellar for a day or so 
 till he 's a little starved down, and then to take 
 him out and keep him on gruel all through his 
 apprenticeship. He comes of a bad family — 
 excitable natures, Mrs. Sowerberry. Both the 
 nurse and doctor said that that mother of his 
 made her way here against difficulties and pain 
 that would have killed any well-disposed wo- 
 man wrecks before." 
 
 At this point of Mr. Bumble's discourse, Oli- 
 ver just hearing enough to know that some fur- 
 ther allusion was being made to his mother, 
 recommenced kicking with a violence w^hich 
 rendered every other sound inaudible. Sower- 
 berry returned at this juncture, and Oliver's 
 offence having been explained to him, with such 
 exaggerations as the ladies thought best calcu- 
 
110 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 lated to rouse his ire, he unlocked the cellar- 
 door ill a twinkling, and dragged his rebeUious 
 apprentice out by the collar. 
 
 Oliver's clothes had been torn in the beating 
 he had received; his face was bruised and 
 scratched, and his hair scattered over his fore- 
 head. The angry flush had not disappeared, 
 however; and when he was pulled out of his 
 prison, he scowled boldly on Noah, and looked 
 quite undismayed. 
 
 " Now, you are a nice young fellow, ain't 
 you.^" said Sowerberry, giving Oliver a shake 
 and a box on the ear. 
 
 " He called my mother names," replied Oliver. 
 
 '' Well, and what if he did, you little un- 
 grateful wretch?"" said Mrs. Sowerberry. " She 
 deserved what he said, and worse." 
 
 " She didn't," said Oliver. 
 
 '* She did," said Mrs. Sowerberry. 
 
 '' It's a lie!" said Oliver. 
 
 Mrs. Sowerberry burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 This flood of tears left Sowerberry no alter- 
 native. If he had hesitated for one instant to 
 punish Oliver most severely, it must be quite 
 
OLIVER TWIST. Ill 
 
 clear to every experienced reader that he would 
 have been, according to all precedents in disputes 
 of matrimony established, a brute, an unnatural 
 husband, an insulting creature, a base imitation 
 of a man, and various other agreeable charac- 
 ters too numerous for recital within the limits of 
 this chapter. To do him justice, he was, as far 
 as his power went, — it was not very extensive, 
 — kindly disposed towards the boy; perhaps 
 because it was his interest to be so, perhaps 
 because his wife disliked him. The flood of 
 tears, however, left him no resource ; so he at 
 once gave him a drubbing, which satisfied even 
 Mrs. Sowerberry herself, and rendered Mr. 
 Bumble's subsequent application of the paro- 
 chial cane rather unnecessary. For the rest of 
 the day he was shut up in the back kitchen, in 
 company with a pump and a slice of bread; 
 and, at night, Mrs. Sowerberry, after making 
 various remarks outside the door, by no means 
 complimentary to the memory of his mother, 
 looked into the room, and, amidst the jeers and 
 pointings of Noah and Charlotte, ordered him 
 up stairs to his dismal bed. 
 
112 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 It was not until he was left alone in the si- 
 lence and stillness of the gloomy workshop of 
 the undertaker, that Oliver gave way to the feel- 
 ings which the day's treatment may be supposed 
 likely to have awakened in a mere child. He 
 had listened to their taunts with a look of 
 contempt ; he had borne the lash without a 
 cry, for he felt that pride swelling in his heart 
 which would have kept down a shriek to the 
 last, if they had roasted him alive. But, now 
 that there were none to see or hear him, he fell 
 upon his knees on the floor, and, hiding his face 
 in his hands, wept such tears as, God send for 
 the credit of our nature, few so young may ever 
 have cause to pour out before him. 
 
 For a long time Oliver remained motionless 
 in this attitude. The candle was burning low 
 in the socket when he rose to his feet, and hav- 
 ing gazed cautiously round him, and listened 
 intently, gently undid the fastenings of the door 
 and looked abroad 
 
 It was a cold dark night. The stars seemed 
 to the boy's eyes further from the earth than he 
 had ever seen them before ; there was no wind ; 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ' 113 
 
 and the sombre shadows thrown by the trees on 
 the earth, looked sepulchral and death-like, from 
 being so still. He softly reclosed the door, and, 
 having availed himself of the expiring light of 
 the candle to tie up in a handkerchief the few 
 articles of wearing apparel he had, sat himself 
 down upon a bench to wait for morning. 
 
 With the first ray of light that struggled 
 through the crevices in the shutters Oliver rose, 
 and again unbarred the door. One timid look 
 around, — one moment's pause of hesitation, — he 
 had closed it behind him, and was in the open 
 street. 
 
 He looked to the right and to the left, 
 uncertain whither to fly. He remembered to 
 have seen the waggons, as they went out, toiling 
 up the hill ; he took the same route, and ar- 
 riving at a footpath across the fields, which he 
 knew after some distance led out again into 
 the road, struck into it, and walked quickly 
 on. 
 
 Along this same footpath Oliver well remem- 
 bered he had trotted beside Mr. Bumble, when 
 he first carried him to the workhouse from the 
 
114 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 farm. His way lay directly in front of the cot- 
 tage. His heart beat quickly when he be- 
 thought himself of this, and he half resolved to 
 turn back. He had come a long way though, 
 and should lose a great deal of time by doing so. 
 Besides, it was so early that there was very 
 little fear of his being seen ; so he walked on. 
 
 He reached the house. There was no ap- 
 pearance of its inmates stirring at that early 
 hour. Oliver stopped, and peeped into the 
 garden. A child was weeding one of the little 
 beds ; and as he stopped, he raised his pale face, 
 and disclosed the features of one of his former 
 companions. Oliver felt glad to see him before 
 he went, for, though younger than himself, he 
 had been his little friend and playmate ; they 
 had been beaten, and starved, and shut up to- 
 gether, many and many a time. 
 
 " Hush, Dick ! " said Oliver, as the boy ran 
 to the gate, and thrust his thin arm, between 
 the rails to greet him. " Is any one up ?" 
 
 " Nobody but me," replied the child. 
 
 " You mustn't say you saw me, Dick,"' said 
 Oliver ; " I am running away. They beat and 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 115 
 
 ill-use me, Dick ; and I am going to seek my 
 fortune some long way oiF, I don't know where. 
 How pale you are ! " 
 
 " I heard the doctor tell them I was dying," 
 replied the child with a faint smile. " I am 
 very glad to see you, dear; but don't stop, 
 don't stop." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I will, to say good-b'ye to you," 
 replied Oliver. " I shall see you again, Dick; 
 I know I shall. You will be well and happy." 
 " I hope so," replied the child, " after I am 
 dead, but not before. I know the doctor must 
 be right, Oliver, because I dream so much of 
 heaven and angels, and kind faces that I never 
 see when I am awake. Kiss me," said the 
 child, climbing up the low gate, and flinging 
 his little arms round Oliver's neck. " Good- 
 b'ye, dear ! God bless you ! " 
 
 The blessing was from a young child's lips, 
 but it was the first that Oliver had ever heard 
 invoked upon his head ; and through all the 
 struggles and sufferings, and troubles and changes 
 of his after life, he never once forgot it. 
 
116 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OLIVER WALKS TO LONDON, AND ENCOUNTERS ON THE 
 ROAD A STRANGE SORT OF YOUNG GENTLEMAN. 
 
 Oliver reached the style at which the by- 
 path terminated, and once more gained the 
 high-road. It was eight o'clock now ; and, 
 though he was nearly five miles away from the 
 town, he ran, and hid behind the hedges by 
 turns, till noon, fearing that he might be pur- 
 sued and overtaken. Then he sat down to rest 
 by the side of a mile-stone, and began to think 
 for the first time where he had better go and 
 try to live. 
 
 The stone by which he was seated, bore in 
 large characters an intimation that it was just 
 seventy miles from that spot to London. The 
 name awakened a new train of ideas in the 
 boy's mind. London ! — that great large place I 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 117 
 
 — nobody — not even Mr. Bumble — could ever 
 find him there. He had often heard the old 
 men in the workhouse, too, say that no lad of 
 spirit need want in London, and that there 
 were ways of living in that vast city which 
 those who had been bred up in country 
 parts had no idea of. It was the very place 
 for a homeless boy, who must die in the streets 
 unless some one helped him. As these things 
 passed through his thoughts, he jumped upon 
 his feet, and again walked forward. 
 
 He had diminished the distance between 
 himself and London by full four miles more, 
 before he recollected how much he must un- 
 dergo ere he could hope to reach his place of 
 destination. As this consideration forced itself 
 upon him, he slackened his pace a little, and 
 meditated upon his means of getting there. 
 He had a crust of bread, a coarse shirt, and 
 two pairs of stockings in his bundle ; and a 
 penny — a gift of Sowerberry's after some 
 funeral in which he had acquitted himself more 
 than ordinarily well — in his pocket. " A clean 
 shirt,'' thought Oliver, " is a very comfortable 
 
118 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 tiling, — very ; and so are two pairs of darned 
 stockings, and so is a penny, but they are 
 small helps to a sixty-five miles'* walk in winter 
 time." But Oliver's thoughts, like those of 
 most other people, although they were ex- 
 tremely ready and active to point out his diffi- 
 culties, were wholly at a loss to suggest any 
 feasible mode of surmounting them ; so, after a 
 good deal of thinking to no particular purpose, 
 he changed his little bundle over to the other 
 shoulder, and trudged on. 
 
 Oliver walked twenty miles that day, and 
 all that time tasted nothing but the crust of dry 
 bread, and a few draughts of water which he 
 begged at the cottage-doors by the road-side. 
 When the night came, he turned into a mea- 
 dow, and, creeping close under a hay-rick, 
 determined to lie there till morning. He felt 
 frightened at first, for the wind moaned dis- 
 mally over the empty fields, and he was cold 
 and hungry, and more alone than he had ever 
 felt before. Being very tired with his walk, how- 
 ever, he soon fell asleep and forgot his troubles. 
 He felt cold and stiff when he got up next 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 119 
 
 morning, and so hungry that he was obliged to 
 exchange the penny for a small loaf in the very 
 first village through which he passed. He had 
 walked no more than twelve miles, when night 
 closed in again ; for his feet were sore, and his 
 legs so weak that they trembled beneath him. 
 Another night passed in the bleak damp air 
 only made him worse ; and, when he set for- 
 ward on his journey next morning, he could 
 hardly crawl along. 
 
 He waited at the bottom of a steep hill till a 
 stage-coach came up, and then begged of the 
 outside passengers ; but there were very few 
 who took any notice of him, and even those, 
 told him to wait till they got to the top of the 
 hill, and then let them see how far he could run 
 for a halfpenny. Poor Oliver tried to keep up 
 with the coach a little way, but was unable to 
 do it, by reason of his fatigue and sore feet. 
 When the outsides saw this, they put their 
 halfpence back into their pockets again, de- 
 claring that he was an idle young dog, and 
 didn't deserve anything ; and the coach rattled 
 away, and left only a cloud of dust behind. 
 
120 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 In some villages, large painted boards were 
 fixed np, warning all persons who begged within 
 the district that they would be sent to jail, 
 which frightened Oliver very much, and made 
 him very glad to get out of them with all pos- 
 sible expedition. In others he would stand 
 a^bout the inn-yards, and look mournfully at 
 every one who passed ; a proceeding which 
 generally terminated in the landlady's ordering 
 one of the post-boys who were lounging about, 
 to drive that strange boy out of the place, for 
 she was sure he had come to steal something. 
 If he begged at a farmer's house, ten to one but 
 they threatened to set the dog on him ; and 
 when he showed his nose in a shop, they talked 
 about the beadle, which brought Oliver's heart 
 into his mouth, — very often the only thing he 
 had there, for many hours together. 
 
 In fact, if it had not been for a good-hearted 
 turnpike-man, and a benevolent old lady, Oli- 
 ver's troubles would have been shortened by the 
 very same process which put an end to his 
 mother's ; in other words, he would most as- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 121 
 
 suredly have fallen dead upon the king's high- 
 way. But the turnpike-man gave him a meal 
 of bread and cheese ; and the old lady, who had 
 a shipwrecked grandson wandering barefooted 
 in some distant part of the earth, took pity 
 upon the poor orphan, and gave him what 
 little she could afford — and more — with such 
 kind and gentle words, and such tears of sym- 
 pathy and compassion, that they sank deeper 
 into Oliver's soul than all the sufferings he had 
 ever undergone. 
 
 Early on the seventh morning after he had 
 left his native place, Oliver limped slowly into 
 the little town of Barnet. The window-shut- 
 ters were closed, the street was empty, not a 
 soul had awakened to the business of the day. 
 The sun was rising in all his splendid beauty, 
 but the light only served to show the boy his 
 own lonesomeness and desolation as he sat with 
 bleeding feet and covered with dust upon a cold 
 door-step. 
 
 By degrees the shutters were opened, the 
 window-blinds were drawn up, and people 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 began passing to and fro. Some few stopped 
 to gaze at Oliver for a moment or two, or 
 turned round to stare at him as tliey hurried 
 bj; but none reheved him, or troubled them- 
 selves to inquire how he came there. He had 
 no heart to beg, and there he sat. 
 
 He had been crouching on the step for some 
 time, wondering at the great number of public 
 houses (every other house in Barnet is a tavern, 
 large or small), gazing listlessly at the coaches 
 as they passed through, and thinking how strange 
 it seemed that they could do with ease in a few 
 hours what it had taken him a whole week of 
 courage and determination beyond his years 
 to accomplish, when he was roused by observing 
 that a boy who had passed him carelessly some 
 minutes before, had returned, and was now sur- 
 veying him most earnestly from the opposite 
 side of the way. He took little heed of this 
 at first; but the boy remained in the same 
 attitude of close observation so long, that Oliver 
 raised his head, and returned his steady look. 
 Upon this, the boy crossed over, and, walking 
 close up to Oliver, said, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 123 
 
 " Hullo ! my covey, what's the row?" 
 The boy who addressed this mquiry to the 
 young wayfarer was about his own age, but one 
 of the queerest-looking boys that Oliver had 
 ever seen. He was a snub-nosed, flat-browed, 
 common- faced boy enough, and as dirty a juve- 
 nile as one would wish to see ; but he had 
 about him all the airs and manners of a man. 
 He was short of his age, with rather bow-legs, 
 and little sharp ugly eyes. His hat was stuck 
 on the top of his head so slightly that it threat- 
 ened to fall off every moment, and would have 
 done so very often if the wearer had not had a 
 knack of every now and then giving his head a 
 sudden twitch, which brought it back to its old 
 place again. He wore a man''s coat, which 
 reached nearly to his heels. He had turned 
 the cuffs back halfway up his arm to get his 
 hands out of the sleeves, apparently with the ul- 
 timate view of thrusting them into the pockets 
 of his corduroy trousers, for there he kept them. 
 He was altogether as roystering and swagger- 
 ing a young gentleman as ever stood four feet 
 six, or something less, in his bluchers. 
 
 G £ 
 
124 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 '' Hullo, my covey, what's tlie row?" said 
 this strange young gentleman to Oliver. 
 
 " I am very hungry and tired," replied Oli- 
 ver, the tears standing in his eyes as he spoke. 
 " I have walked a long way, — I have been 
 walking these seven days." 
 
 " Walking for sivin days!" said the young 
 gentleman. " Oh, I see. Beak's order, eh ? 
 But," he added, noticing Oliver's look of sur- 
 prise, " I suppose you don't know what a beak 
 is, my flash com-pan-i-on." 
 
 Oliver mildly replied, that he had always 
 heard a bird's mouth described by the term in 
 question. 
 
 "My eyes, how green!" exclaimed the 
 young gentleman. " Why, a beak 's a madg- 
 st'rate ; and when you walk by a beak's order, 
 it's not straight forerd, but always going up, 
 and nivir coming down agen. Was you never 
 on the mill.?" 
 
 " What mill ? " inquired Oliver. 
 
 " What mill ! — why, the mill, — the mill as 
 takes up so little room that it '11 work inside a 
 stone jug, and always goes better when the 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 125 
 
 wind 's low with people than when it ""s high, acos 
 then they can''t get workmen. But come," said 
 the young gentleman ; " you want grub, and you 
 shall have it. I 'm at low-water-mark, — only 
 one bob and a magpie ; but, as far as it goes, 
 111 fork out and stump. Up with you on 
 your pins. There : now then. Morrice.'** 
 
 Assisting Oliver to rise, the young gentleman 
 took him to an adjacent chandler's shop, where 
 he purchased a sufficiency of ready-dressed ham 
 and a half- quartern loaf, or, as he himself ex- 
 pressed it, " a fourpenny bran ; *''' the ham being 
 kept clean and preserved from dust by the in- 
 genious expedient of making a hole in the loaf 
 by pulling out a portion of the crumb, and stuiF- 
 ing it therein. Taking the bread under his 
 arm, the young gentleman turned into a small 
 public-house, and led the way to a tap-room in 
 the rear of the premises. Here, a pot of beer 
 was brought in by the direction of the myste- 
 rious youth ; and Oliver, falling to, at his new 
 friend's bidding, made a long and hearty meal, 
 during the progress of which the strange boy eyed 
 him from time to time with great attention. 
 
126 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Going to London?" said the strange boy, 
 when Ohver had at length concluded. 
 
 " Yes;' 
 
 " Got any lodgings ?" 
 
 '' No." 
 
 " Money?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 The strange boy whistled, and put his arms 
 into his pockets as far as the big-coat sleeves 
 would let them go. 
 
 " Do you live in London ?" inquired Oliver. 
 " Yes, I do, when I'm at home," replied 
 the boy. " I suppose you want some place to 
 sleep in to-night, don't you ? " 
 
 "I do indeed," answered Oliver. " I have 
 not slept under a roof since I left the country." 
 
 " Don't fret your eyelids on that score," said 
 the young gentleman. " I've got to be in 
 London to-night, and I know a' 'spectable old 
 genelman as lives there, wot '11 give you lodg- 
 ings for nothink, and never ask for the change ; 
 that is, if any genelman he knows interduces 
 you. And don't he know me ? — Oh, no, — 
 not in the least, — by no means, — certainly not." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 127 
 
 The young gentleman smiled, as if to inti- 
 mate that the latter fragments of discourse 
 were playfully ironical, and finished the beer 
 as he did so. 
 
 This unexpected offer of shelter was too 
 tempting to be resisted, especially as it was 
 immediately followed up by the assurance 
 that the old gentleman already referred to, 
 would doubtless provide Oliver with a comfort- 
 able place without loss of time. This led to 
 a more friendly and confidential dialogue, from 
 which Oliver discovered that his friend's name 
 was Jack Dawklns, and that he was a peculiar 
 pet and protege of the elderly gentleman before 
 mentioned. 
 
 Mr. Dawkins's appearance did not say a 
 vast deal in favour of the comforts which his 
 patron's interest obtained for those whom he 
 took under his protection ; but as he had 
 -a rather flighty and dissolute mode of con- 
 versing, and furthermore avowed that among 
 his intimate friends he was better known by 
 the sobriquet of " The artful Dodger," Oliver 
 concluded that, being of a dissipated and care- 
 
1S8 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 less turn, the moral precepts of his benefactor 
 had hitherto been thrown away upon him. 
 Under this impression, he secretly resolved to 
 cultivate the good opinion of the old gentleman 
 as quickly as possible ; and, if he found the 
 Dodger incorrigible, as he more than half 
 suspected he should, to decline the honour of 
 his farther acquaintance. 
 
 As John Dawkins objected to their entering 
 London before nightfall, it was nearly eleven 
 o'clock when they reached the turnpike at 
 IsHngton. They crossed from the Angel into 
 St. John's-road, struck down the small street 
 which terminates at Sadler's Wells theatre, 
 through Exmouth-street and Coppice-row, down 
 the little court by the side of the workhouse, 
 across the classic ground which once bore the 
 name of Hockley-in-the-hole, thence into Little 
 Saffron-hill, and so into Saffron-hill the Great, 
 along which the Dodger scudded at a rapid 
 pace, directing Oliver to follow close at his 
 heels. 
 
 Although Oliver had enough to occupy his 
 attention in keeping sight of his leader, he 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 129 
 
 could not help bestowing a few hasty glances 
 on either side of the way as he passed along. 
 A dirtier or more wretched place he had never 
 seen. The street was very narrow and muddy, 
 and the air was impregnated with filthy odours. 
 There were a good many small shops ; but the 
 only stock in trade appeared to be heaps of 
 children, who, even at that time of night, 
 were crawling in and out at the doors, or 
 screaming from the inside. The sole places 
 that seemed to prosper amid the general blight 
 of the place were the public-houses, and in 
 them, the lowest orders of Irish (who are gene- 
 rally the lowest orders of anything) were 
 wrangling with might and main. Covered 
 ways and yards, which here and there diverged 
 from the main street, disclosed little knots of 
 houses where drunken men and women were 
 positively wallowing in the filth; and from 
 several of the door-ways, great ill-looking fel- 
 lows were cautiously emerging, bound, to all 
 appearance, upon no very well-disposed or harm- 
 less errands. 
 
 Oliver was just considering whether he 
 
 G 5 
 
130 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 hadn't better run away, when they reached the 
 bottom of the hill : his conductor catching him 
 by the arm, pushed open the door of a house 
 near Field-lane, and, drawing him into the 
 passage, closed it behind them. 
 
 " Now, then,'' cried a voice from below, in 
 reply to a whistle from the Dodger. 
 
 " Plummy and slamT'' was the reply. 
 
 This seemed to be some watchword or signal 
 that all was right ; for the light of a feeble 
 candle gleamed on the wall at the farther end 
 of the passage, and a man's face peeped out 
 from where a balustrade of the old kitchen 
 staircase had been broken away. 
 
 " There 's two on you," said the man, thrust- 
 ing the candle farther out, and shading his eyes 
 with his hand. " Who 's the t' other one ?" 
 
 " A new pal," replied Jack Dawkins, pulKng 
 Oliver forward. 
 
 " Where did he come from?" 
 
 " Greenland. Is Faghi up stairs ?" 
 
 " Yes, he 's a sortin' the wipes. Up Avith 
 you." The candle was drawn back, and tlie 
 face disappeared. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 131 
 
 Oliver, groping his way with one hand, and 
 with the other firmly grasped by his companion, 
 ascended with much difficulty the dark and 
 broken stairs, which his conductor mounted 
 with an ease and expedition that showed he 
 was well acquainted with them. He threw 
 open the door of a back-room, and drew Oliver 
 in after him. 
 
 The walls and ceiling of the room were per- 
 fectly black with age and dirt. There was a 
 deal-table before the fire, upon which was a 
 candle stuck in a ginger-beer bottle ; two or 
 three pewter pots, a loaf and butter, and a 
 plate. In a frying-pan which was on the fire, 
 and which was secured to the mantelshelf by 
 a string, some sausages were cooking ; and 
 standing over them, with a toasting-fork in 
 his hand, was a very old shrivelled Jew, whose 
 villanous-looking and repulsive face was obscured 
 by a quantity of matted red hair. He was 
 dressed in a greasy flannel gown, with his 
 throat bare, and seemed to be dividing his 
 attention between the frying-pan and a clothes- 
 horse, over which a great number of silk hand- 
 
1S2 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 kerchiefs were hanging. Several rough beds 
 made of old sacks were huddled side by side on 
 the floor ; and seated round the table were four 
 or five boys, none older than the Dodger, smok- 
 ing long clay pipes and drinking spirits with 
 the air of middle-aged men. These all crowded 
 about their associate as he whispered a few 
 words to the Jew, and then turned round and 
 grinned at Oliver, as did the Jew himself: 
 toasting-fork in hand. 
 
 " This is him, Fagin,*" said Jack Dawkins ; 
 " my friend, Oliver Twist." 
 
 The Jew grinned ; and, making a low obei- 
 sance to Oliver, took him by the hand, and 
 hoped he should have the honour of his inti- 
 mate acquaintance. Upon this, the young 
 gentlemen with the pipes came round him, 
 and shook both his hands very hard, — especi- 
 ally the one in which he held his little bundle. 
 One young gentleman was very anxious to hang 
 up his cap for him ; and another was so obliging 
 as to put his hands in his pockets, in order 
 that, as he was very tired, he might not have 
 the trouble of emptying them when he went to 
 
■y-'T'Y' C-nAutsK*v^ 
 
 '<f5^ ^yz^Zy;t2^^6ceay ^ />, 
 
 ^/^^^^^^ 6i^.^^z^, 
 
 /?U2^^. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 133 
 
 bed. These civilities would probably have 
 been extended much further, but for a liberal 
 exercise of the Jew's toasting-fork on the heads 
 and shoulders of the affectionate youths who 
 offered them. 
 
 '* We are very glad to see you, Oliver, — ■ 
 very," said the Jew. " Dodger, take off the 
 sausages, and draw a tub near the fire for Oli- 
 ver. Ah, you 're a-staring at the pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs ! — eh, my dear ? There are a good 
 many of 'em, ain t there ? We Ve just looked 
 'em out ready for the wash ; that 's all, Oliver ; 
 that 'sail. Ha! ha! ha!" 
 
 The latter part of this speech was hailed by 
 a boisterous shout from all the hopeful pupils 
 of the merry old gentleman, in the midst of 
 which they went to supper. 
 
 OHver ate his share ; and the Jew then mixed 
 him a glass of hot gin and water, telling him 
 he must drink it off directly, because another 
 gentleman wanted the tumbler. Oliver did as 
 he was desired. Almost instantly afterwards, 
 he felt himself gently lifted on to one of the 
 sacks, and then he sunk into a deep sleep. 
 
134 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CONTAINING FURTHER PARTICULARS CONCERNING THE 
 PLEASANT OLD GENTLEMAN, AND HIS HOPEFUL 
 PUPILS. 
 
 It was late next morDing when Oliver awoke 
 from a sound, long sleep. There was no other 
 person in the room but the old Jew, who was 
 boiling some coifee in a saucepan for breakfast, 
 and whistling softly to himself as he stirred it 
 round and round with an iron spoon. He 
 would stop every now and then to listen when 
 there was the least noise below ; and, when he 
 had satisfied himself, he would go on whistling 
 and stirring again as before. 
 
 Although Oliver had roused himself from 
 sleep, he was not thoroughly awake. There 
 is a drowsy state, between sleeping and wak- 
 iiiQ-, when vou dream more in five minutes 
 with your eyes half open, and yourself half 
 
olive;r twist. 135 
 
 conscious of everything that is passing around 
 you, than you would in five nights with your 
 eyes fast closed, and your senses wrapt in per- 
 fect unconsciousness. At such times, a mortal 
 knows just enough of what his mind is doing 
 to form some glimmering conception of its 
 mighty powers, its bounding from earth and 
 spurning time and space, when freed from the 
 restraint of its corporeal associate. 
 
 Oliver was precisely in this condition. He 
 saw the Jew with his half-closed eyes, heard 
 his low whistling, and recognised the sound 
 of the spoon grating against the saucepan's 
 sides ; and yet the self-same senses were 
 mentally engaged at the same time in busy 
 action with almost everybody he had ever 
 known. 
 
 When the coffee was done, the Jew drew the 
 saucepan to the hob, and, standing in an irreso- 
 lute attitude for a few minutes, as if he did not 
 well know how to employ himself, turned round 
 and looked at Oliver, and called him by his 
 name. He did not answer, and was to all 
 appearance asleep. 
 
136 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 After satisfying himself upon this head, the 
 Jew stepped gently to the door, which he fast- 
 ened ; he then drew forth, as it seemed to Oli- 
 ver, from some trap in the floor, a small box, 
 which he placed carefully on the table. His 
 eyes glistened as he raised the lid and looked in. 
 Dragging an old chair to the table, he sat down, 
 and took from it a magnificent gold watch, 
 sparkling with diamonds. 
 
 " Aha ! "' said the Jew, shrugging up his 
 shoulders, and distorting every feature with a 
 hideous grin. '' Clever dogs ! clever dogs ! — 
 Staunch to the last ! Never told the old par- 
 son where they were ; never peached upon old 
 Fagin. And why should they ? It wouldn't 
 have loosened the knot, or kept the drop up a 
 minute longer. No, no, no ! Fine fellows ! — 
 fine fellows ! " 
 
 With these and other muttered reflections of 
 the like nature, the Jew once more deposited 
 the watch in its place of safety. At least half 
 a dozen more were severally drawn forth from 
 the same box, and surveyed with equal plea- 
 sure ; besides rings, brooches, bracelets, and 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 137 
 
 other articles of jewellery, of such magnificent 
 materials and costly workmanship that Oliver 
 had no idea even of their names. 
 
 Having replaced these trinkets, the Jew took 
 out another, so small that it lay in the palm of 
 his hand. There seemed to be some very mi- 
 nute inscription on it, for the Jew laid it flat 
 upon the table, and, shading it with his hand, 
 pored over it long and earnestly. At length 
 he put it down as if despairing of success, and, 
 leaning back in his chair, muttered, — 
 
 " What a fine thing capital punishment is ! 
 Dead men never repent ; dead men never bring 
 awkward stories to light. Ah, it ""s a fine 
 thing for the trade ! Five of them strung up 
 in a row, and none left to play booty or turn 
 white-livered ! " 
 
 As the Jew uttered these words, his bright 
 dark eyes which had been staring vacantly before 
 him, fell on Oliver's face ; the boy's eyes were 
 fixed on his in mute curiosity, and, although 
 the recognition was only for an instant — for the 
 briefest space of time that can possibly be con- 
 ceived, — it was enough to show the old man 
 
138 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 that he had been observed. He closed the 
 lid of the box with a loud crash, and, laying- 
 his hand on a bread-knife which was on 
 the table, started furiously up. He trembled 
 very much though ; for, even in his terror, 
 Oliver could see that the knife quivered in 
 the air. 
 
 '' What's that.^^' said the Jew. " What 
 do you watch me for ? Why are you awake ? 
 What have you seen ? Speak out, boy ! 
 Quick — quick ! for your life ! " 
 
 " I wasn't able to sleep any longer, sir,'' 
 replied Oliver, meekly. '' 1 am very sorry if 
 I have disturbed you, sir." 
 
 " You were not awake an hour ago ? " said 
 the Jew, scowling fiercely on the boy. 
 
 "• No — no, indeed, sir," replied Oliver. 
 
 " Are you sure?" cried the Jew, with a still 
 fiercer look than before, and a threatening atti- 
 tude. 
 
 *' Upon my word I was not, sir," replied 
 Oliver, earnestly. " I was not, indeed, sir." 
 
 " Tush, tush, my dear ! " said the Jew, ab- 
 ruptly resuming his old manner, and playing 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 139 
 
 with the knife a little, before he laid it down, as 
 if to induce the belief that he had caught it up 
 in mere sport. " Of course I know that, my 
 dear. I only tried to frighten you. You 're a 
 brave boy. Ha ! ha ! you 're a brave boy, Oli- 
 ver ! " and the Jew rubbed his hands with a 
 chuckle, but looked uneasily at the box not- 
 withstanding. 
 
 " Did you see any of these pretty things, 
 my dear ? " said the Jew, laying his hand upon 
 it after a short pause. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Oliver. 
 
 "Ah!" said the Jew, turning rather pale. 
 " They — they 're mine, Oliver ; my little pro- 
 perty. All I have to live upon in my old age. 
 The folks call me a miser, my dear, — only a 
 miser ; that's all." 
 
 Oliver thought the old gentleman must be a 
 decided miser to live in such a dirty place, 
 with so many watches ; but, thinking that 
 perhaps his fondness for the Dodger and the 
 other boys cost him a good deal of money, 
 he only cast a deferential look at the Jew, and 
 asked if he might get up. 
 
HO OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Certainly, my clear, — certainly,'' replied 
 the old gentleman. " Stay. There \s a pitcher 
 of water in the corner by the door. Bring it 
 here, and 1 11 give you a basin to wash in, my 
 dear." 
 
 Oliver got up, walked across the room, and 
 stooped for one instant to raise the pitcher. 
 When he turned his head, the box was gone. 
 
 He had scarcely washed himself and made 
 everything tidy by emptying the basin out of 
 the window, agreeably to the Jew's directions, 
 than the Dodger returned, accompanied by a 
 very sprightly young friend whom Oliver had 
 seen smoking on the previous night, and who 
 was now formally introduced to him as Charley 
 Bates. The four sat down to breakfast upon 
 the coifee and some hot rolls and ham which 
 the Dodger had brought home in the crown of 
 his hat. 
 
 " Well," said the Jew, glancing slyly at 
 Oliver, and addressing himself to the Dodger, 
 " I hope you've been at work this morning, 
 my dears." 
 
 " Hard," replied the Dodger. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 14 1 
 
 " As nails," added Charley Bates. 
 "Good boys, good boys!" said the Jew. 
 '' What have j/oM got. Dodger?" 
 
 '' A couple of pocket-books," replied that 
 young gentleman. 
 
 " Lined ?" inquired the Jew with trembling 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Pretty well," replied the Dodger, produ- 
 cing two pocket-books, one green and the other 
 red. 
 
 " Not so heavy as they might be," said the 
 Jew, after looking at the insides carefully ; 
 " but very neat and nicely made. Ingenious 
 workman, ain't he, Oliver.?" 
 
 " Very, indeed, sir," said Oliver. At which 
 Mr. Charles Bates laughed uproariously, very 
 much to the amazement of Oliver, who saw 
 nothing to laugh at, in anything that had 
 passed. 
 
 " And what have you got, my dear?" said 
 Fagin to Charley Bates. 
 
 " Wipes," replied Master Bates : at the same 
 time producing four pocket-handkerchiefs. 
 
 " Well," said the Jew, inspecting them 
 
142 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 closely ; " They 're very good ones, — very. 
 You haven't marked them well, though, Char- 
 ley; so the marks shall be picked out with a 
 needle, and we'll teach Oliver how to do it. 
 Shall us, Oliver, eh .?— Ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 " If you please, sir," said Oliver. 
 
 " You'd like to be able to make pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs as easy as Charley Bates, wouldn't 
 you, my dear?" said the Jew. 
 
 u Very much indeed, if you'll teach me, sir," 
 replied Oliver. 
 
 Master Bates saw something so exquisitely 
 ludicrous in this reply that he burst into an- 
 other laugh ; which laugh meeting the coffee he 
 was drinking, and carrying it down some wrong 
 channel, very nearly terminated in his prema- 
 ture suffocation. 
 
 " He is so jolly green !" said Charley when 
 he recovered, as an apology to the company for 
 his unpolite behaviour. 
 
 The Dodger said nothing, but he smoothed 
 Oliver's hair down over his eyes, and said he 'd 
 know better by-and-by ; upon which the old 
 i^entleman, observing Oliver's colour mounting, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 143 
 
 changed the subject by asking whether there 
 had been much of a crowd at the execution 
 that morning. This made him wonder more 
 and more, for it was plain from the rephes of 
 the two boys that they had both been there, 
 and Ohver naturally wondered how they could 
 possibly have found time to be so very indus- 
 trious. 
 
 When the breakfast was cleared away, the 
 merry old gentleman and the two boys played 
 at a very curious and uncommon game, which 
 was performed in this way : — The merry old 
 gentleman, placing a snuff-box in one pocket of 
 his trousers, a note-case in the other, and a 
 watch in his waistcoat pocket, with a guard 
 chain round his neck, — and sticking a mock dia- 
 mond pin in his shirt, buttoned his coat tight 
 round him, and, putting his spectacle-case and 
 handkerchief in the pockets, trotted up and 
 down the room with a stick, in imitation of the 
 manner in which old gentlemen walk about the 
 streets every hour in the day. Sometimes he 
 stopped at the fire-place, and sometimes at the 
 door, making belief that he was staring with all 
 
144 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 his might into shop-windows. At such times 
 he would look constantly round him for fear 
 of thieves, and keep slapping all his pockets in 
 turn, to see that he hadn't lost anything, in 
 such a very funny and natural manner, that 
 Oliver laughed till the tears ran down his face. 
 All this time the two boys followed him closely 
 about, getting out of his sight so nimbly every 
 time he turned round, that it was impossible to 
 follow their motions. At last the Dodger trod 
 upon his toes, or ran upon his boot accidentally, 
 while Charley Bates stumbled up against him 
 behind; and in that one moment they took 
 from him with the most extraordinary rapidity 
 snuff-box, note-case, watch-guard, chain, shirt- 
 pin, pocket-handkerchief, — even the spectacle- 
 case. If the old gentleman felt a hand in any 
 one of his pockets, he cried out where it was, 
 and then the game began all over again. 
 
 When this game had been played a gi-eat 
 many times, a couple of young ladies came to 
 see the young gentlemen ; one of whom was 
 called Bet, and the other Nancy. They wore a 
 good deal of hair, not very neatly turned up 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 145 
 
 behind, and were rather untidy about the shoes 
 and stockings. They were not exactly pretty, 
 perhaps ; but they had a great deal of colour in 
 their faces, and looked quite stout and hearty. 
 Being remarkably free and agreeable in their 
 manners, Oliver thought them very nice giris 
 indeed, as there is no doubt they were. 
 
 These visitors stopped a long time. Spirits 
 were produced, in consequence of one of the 
 young ladies complaining of a coldness in her 
 inside, and the conversation took a very con- 
 vivial and improving turn. At length Charley 
 Bates expressed his opinion that it was time 
 to pad the hoof, which it occurred to Oliver 
 must be French for going out; for directly 
 afterwards, the Dodger, and Charley, and the 
 two young ladies, went away together, having 
 been kindly furnished with money to spend by 
 the amiable old Jew. 
 
 "There, my dear,'' said Fagin, "that's a 
 pleasant life, isn't it ? They have gone out for 
 the day." 
 
 " Have they done work, sir ?'' inquired 
 Oliver. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Yes," said the Jew ; " that is, unless tliey 
 should unexpectedly come across any when 
 they are out ; and they won't neglect it if they 
 do, my dear, depend upon it.'' 
 
 " Make 'em your models, my dear, make 'em 
 your models," said the Jew, tapping the fire- 
 shovel on the hearth to add force to his words ; 
 " do everything they bid you, and take their 
 advice in all matters, especially the Dodger's, 
 my dear. He '11 be a great man himself, and 
 make you one too, if you take pattern by him. 
 Is my handkerchief hanging out of my pocket, 
 my dear ?" said the Jew, stopping short. 
 " Yes, sir," said Oliver. 
 " See if you can take it out without my feel- 
 ing it, as you saw them do, when we were at 
 play this morning." 
 
 Oliver held up the bottom of the pocket with 
 one hand as he had seen the Dodger hold it, 
 and drew the handkerchief lightly out of it T^ith 
 the other. 
 
 " Is it gone ?" cried the Jew. 
 " Here it is, sir," said Oliver, showing it in 
 his hand. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 147 
 
 '' You 're a clever boy, my dear," said the 
 playful old gentleman, patting Oliver on the 
 head approvingly ; " I never saw a sharper lad. 
 Here 's a shilhng for you. If you go on in this 
 way, you'll be the greatest man of the time. 
 And now come here, and 1 '11 show you how to 
 take the marks out of the handkerchiefs." 
 
 Oliver wondered what picking the old gen- 
 tleman's pocket in play had to do with his 
 chances of being a great man; but thinking 
 that the Jew, being so much his senior, must 
 know best, followed him quietly to the table, 
 and was soon deeply involved in his new study. 
 
 H 2 
 
148 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OLIVER BECOMES BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE CHA- 
 RACTERS OF HIS NEW ASSOCIATES, AND PURCHASES EX- 
 PERIENCE AT A HIGH PRICE. BEING A SHORT BUT 
 VERY IMPORTANT CHAPTER IN THIS HISTORY. 
 
 For many days Oliver remained in the 
 Jew's room, picking the marks out of the 
 pocket-handkerchiefs, (of which a great number 
 were brought home,) and sometimes taking 
 part in the game already described, which the 
 two boys and the Jew played regularly every 
 morning. At length he began to languish for 
 the fresh air, and took many occasions of earn- 
 estly entreating the old gentleman to allow him 
 to go out to work with his two companions. 
 
 Oliver was rendered the more anxious to be 
 actively employed, by what he had seen of the 
 stern morality of the old gentleman's character. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 149 
 
 Whenever the Dodger or Charley Bates came 
 home at night empty-handed, he would expati- 
 ate with great vehemence on the misery of idle 
 and lazy habits, and enforce upon them the 
 necessity of an active life by sending them sup- 
 perless to bed. Upon one occasion, indeed, he 
 even went so far as to knock them both down 
 a flight of stairs ; but this was carrying out his 
 virtuous precepts to an unusual extent. 
 
 At length one morning, Oliver obtained the 
 permission he had so eagerly sought. There 
 had been no handkerchiefs to work upon for 
 two or three days, and the dinners had been 
 rather meagre. Perhaps these were reasons 
 for the old gentleman's giving his assent, but, 
 whether they were or no, he told Oliver he 
 might go, and placed him under the joint guar- 
 dianship of Charley Bates and his friend the 
 Dodger. 
 
 The three boys sallied out : the Dodger with 
 his coat- sleeves tucked up and his hat cocked as 
 usual. Master Bates sauntering along with his 
 hands in his pockets, and Oliver between them, 
 wondering where they were going, and what 
 
150 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 branch of manufacture he would be instructed 
 in first. 
 
 The pace at which they went was such a 
 very lazy, ill-looking saunter, that Oliver soon 
 began to think his companions were going to 
 deceive the old gentleman, by not going to 
 work at all. The Dodger had a vicious pro- 
 pensity, too, of puUing the caps from the heads 
 of small boys and tossing them down areas ; 
 while Charley Bates exhibited some very loose 
 notions concerning the rights of property, by 
 pilfering divers apples and onions from the stalls 
 at the kennel sides, and thrusting them into 
 pockets which were so surprisingly capacious, 
 that they seemed to undermine his whole suit 
 of clothes in every direction. These things 
 looked so bad, that Oliver was on the point of 
 declaring his intention of seeking his way back 
 in the best way he could, when his thoughts 
 were suddenly directed into another channel 
 by a very mysterious change of behaviour on 
 the part of the Dodger. 
 
 They were just emerging from a narrow 
 court not far from the open square in Clerken- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 151 
 
 well, which is yet called, by some strange 
 perversion of terms, " The Green," when the 
 Dodger made a sudden stop, and, laying his 
 finger on his lip, drew his companions back again 
 with the greatest caution and circumspection. 
 " What's the matter .?'' demanded Ohver. 
 " Hush ! " replied the Dodger. " Do you 
 see that old cove at the book-stall ? " 
 
 " The old gentleman over the way?'" said 
 Oliver. " Yes, I see him.'' 
 " He'll do," said the Dodger. 
 " A prime plant," observed Charley Bates. 
 Oliver looked from one to the other with the 
 greatest surprise, but was not permitted to 
 make any inquiries, for the two boys walked 
 stealthily across the road, and slunk close be- 
 hind the old gentleman towards whom his 
 attention had been directed. Oliver walked a 
 few paces after them, and, not knowing whether 
 to advance or retire, stood looking on in silent 
 amazement. 
 
 The old gentleman was a very respectable- 
 looking personage, with a powdered head and 
 gold spectacles; dressed in a bottle-green coat 
 
152 OLIVER TWIST* 
 
 with a black velvet collar, and white trousers, 
 with a smart bamboo cane under his arm. 
 He had taken up a book from the stall, and 
 there he stood, reading away as hard as if he 
 were in his elbow-chair in his own study. It 
 was very possible that he fancied himself there, 
 indeed ; for it was plain, from his utter abstrac- 
 tion, that he saw not the book-stall, nor the 
 street, nor the boys, nor, in short, anything but 
 the book itself, which he was reading straight 
 through, turning over the leaves when he got 
 to the bottom of a page, beginning at the top 
 line of the next one, and going regularly on 
 with the greatest interest and eagerness. 
 
 What was Oliver's horror and alarm as he 
 stood a few paces off, looking on with his eye- 
 lids as wide open as they would possibly go, 
 to see the Dodger plunge his hand into this 
 old gentleman"'s pocket, and draw from thence 
 a handkerchief which he handed to Charley 
 Bates, and with which they both ran away 
 round the corner at full speed ! 
 
 In one instant the whole mystery of the 
 handkerchiefs, and the watches, and the jewels, 
 
Z?^'^' a^?^^^^^ 
 
 ^.^^^_^^^^> r^^^f'j^^^ 
 
 €^ ik^^iP^: 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 153 
 
 and the Jew, rushed upon the boy's mind. 
 He stood for a moment with the blood so ting- 
 ling through all his veins from terror, that he felt 
 as if he were in a burning fire ; then, confused 
 and frightened, he took to his heels, and, not 
 knowing what he did, made off as fast as he 
 could lay his feet to the ground. 
 
 This was all done in a minute's space, and 
 the very instant that Oliver began to run, the 
 old gentleman putting his hand to his pocket, 
 and missing his handkerchief, turned sharp 
 round. Seeing the boy scudding away at such 
 a rapid pace, he very naturally concluded him 
 to be the depredator, and, shouting " Stop 
 thief!" with all his might, made off after him, 
 book in hand. 
 
 But the old gentleman was not the only per- 
 son who raised the hue-and-cry. The Dodger 
 and Master Bates, unwilling to attract public 
 attention by running down the open street, had 
 merely retired into the very first doorway 
 round the corner. They no sooner heard the 
 cry, and saw Oliver running, than, guessing 
 exactly how the matter stood, they issued forth 
 
 h5 
 
I54f OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 with great promptitude, and, shouting " Stop 
 thief!" too, joined in the pursuit like good 
 citizens. 
 
 Although Oliver had been brought up by 
 philosophers, he was not theoretically acquaint- 
 ed with their beautiful axiom that self-preser- 
 vation is the first law of nature. If he had 
 been, perhaps he would have been prepared for 
 this. Not being prepared, however, it alarmed 
 him the more ; so away he went like the wind, 
 with the old gentleman and the two boys roar- 
 ing and shouting behind him. 
 
 " Stop thief ! — stop thief !" There is a magic 
 in the sound. The tradesman leaves his coun- 
 ter, and the carman his waggon ; the butcher 
 throws down his tray, the baker his basket, 
 the milk-man his pail, the errand-boy his par- 
 cels, the schoolboy his marbles, the paviour his 
 pick-axe, the child his battledore. Away they 
 run, pell-mell, helter-skelter, slap-dash, tearing, 
 yelling, and screaming, knocking down the 
 passengers as they turn the corners, rousing up 
 the dogs, and astonishing the fowls ; and streets, 
 squares, and courts re-echo with the sound. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 155 
 
 "Stop thief! — stop thief!" The cry is taken 
 up by a hundred voices, and the crowd accu- 
 mulate at every turning. Away they fly, 
 splashing through the mud, and rattling along 
 the pavements ; up go the windows, out run 
 the people, onward bear the mob ; a whole 
 audience desert Punch in the very thickest of 
 the plot, and, joining the rushing throng, swell 
 the shout, and lend fresh vigour to the cry, 
 " Stop thief!— stop thief!" 
 
 " Stop thief! — stop thief!" There is a pas- 
 sion for hunting something deeply implanted in 
 the human breast. One wretched breathless 
 child, panting with exhaustion., terror in his 
 looks, agony in his eye, large drops of perspira- 
 tion streaming down his face, strains every 
 nerve to make head upon his pursuers ; and as 
 they follow on his track, and gain upon him 
 every instant, they hail his decreasing strength 
 with still louder shouts, and whoop and scream 
 with joy " Stop thief!" — Ay, stop him for 
 God''s sake, were it only in mercy ! 
 
 Stopped at last. A clever blow that. He is 
 down upon the pavement, and the crowd eager- 
 
156 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 ly gather round him ; each new comer jostling 
 and struggling with the others to catch a 
 glimpse. " Stand aside ! "" — '* Give him a little 
 air!" — "Nonsense! he don"'t deserve it." — 
 " Where's the gentleman?" — " Here he is, 
 coming down the street." — " Make room there 
 for the gentleman!" — " Is this the boy, sir ?" 
 — '' Yes." 
 
 Oliver lay covered with mud and dust, and 
 bleeding from the mouth, looking wildly round 
 upon the heap of faces that surrounded him, 
 when the old gentleman was officiously dragged 
 and pushed into the circle by the foremost of 
 the pursuers, and made this reply to their 
 anxious inquiries. 
 
 " Yes," said the gentleman in a benevolent 
 voice, " I am afraid it is." 
 
 " Afraid !" murmured the crowd. " That 's 
 a good un." 
 
 "Poor fellow!" said the gentleman, "he 
 has hurt himself." 
 
 " / did that, sir," said a great lubberly fellow, 
 stepping forward ; " and preciously I cut my 
 knuckle agin' his mouth. / stopped him, sir." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 157 
 
 The fellow touched his hat with a grin, ex- 
 pecting something for his pains ; but the old 
 gentleman eyeing him with an expression of 
 disgust, looked anxiously round, as if he con- 
 templated running away himself: which it is 
 very possible he might have attempted to do, 
 and thus afforded another chase, had not a 
 police officer (who is generally the last person to 
 arrive in such cases) at that moment made his 
 way through the crowd, and seized Oliver by 
 the collar. '' Come, get up,^' said the man 
 roughly. 
 
 " It wasn't me indeed, sir. Indeed, indeed, 
 it was two other boys," said Oliver, clasping 
 his hands passionately, and looking round : 
 " they are here somewhere." 
 
 " Oh no, they ain't," said the officer. He 
 meant this to be ironical, but it was true be- 
 sides, for the Dodger and Charley Bates had 
 filed off down the first convenient court they 
 came to. *' Come, get up." 
 
 " Don't hurt him," said the old gentleman 
 compassionately. 
 
 " Oh no, I won't hurt him," replied the 
 
158 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 officer, tearing his jacket half off his back in 
 proof thereof. " Come, I know you ; it won't 
 do. Will you stand upon your legs, you young 
 devil ?'' 
 
 Oliver, who could hardly stand, made a shift 
 to raise himself upon his feet, and was at once 
 lugged along the streets by the jacket-collar at 
 a rapid pace. The gentleman walked on with 
 them by the officer's side ; and as many of the 
 crowd as could, got a little a-head, and stared 
 back at Oliver from time to time. The boys 
 shouted in triumph, and on they went. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 TREATS OF MR. FANG THE POLfCE MAGISTRATE, AND FUR- 
 NISHES A SLIGHT SPECIMEN OF HIS MODE OF ADMINIS- 
 TERING JUSTICE. 
 
 The offence had been committed within the 
 district, and indeed in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of a very notorious metropoUtan poHce 
 office. The crowd had only the satisfaction 
 of accompanying OHver through two or three 
 streets, and down a place called Mutton-hill, 
 when he was led beneath a low arch-way, and 
 up a dirty court into this dispensary of sum- 
 mary justice, by the back way. It was a small 
 paved yard into which they turned ; and here 
 they encountered a stout man with a bunch of 
 whiskers on his face, and a bunch of keys in 
 his hand. 
 
 " What's the matter now.^" said the man 
 carelessly. 
 
160 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 *' A young fogle-lmnter," replied the man 
 who had OHver in charge. 
 
 " Are you the party that 's been robbed, 
 sir?" inquired the man with the keys. 
 
 " Yes, I am," repHed the old gentleman; 
 " but I am not sure that this boy actually took 
 the handkerchief. I — I would rather not press 
 the case." 
 
 " Must go before the magistrate now, sir," 
 replied the man. " His worship will be disen- 
 gaged in half a minute. Now, young gallows." 
 This was an invitation for Oliver to enter 
 through a door which he unlocked as he spoke, 
 and which led into a stone cell. Here he was 
 searched, and, nothing being found upon him, 
 locked up. 
 
 This cell was in shape and size something 
 like an area cellar, only not so light. It was 
 most intolerably dirty, for it was Monday morn- 
 ing, and it had been tenanted by six drunken 
 people, who had been locked up elsewhere 
 since Saturday night. But this is nothing. 
 In our station-houses, men and women are 
 every night confined on the most trivial 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 161 
 
 charges — the word is worth noting — in dun- 
 geons, compared with which, those in Newgate, 
 occupied hy the most atrocious felons, tried, 
 found guilty, and under sentence of death, are 
 palaces. Let any man who doubts this, com- 
 pare the two. 
 
 The old gentleman looked almost as rueful 
 as Oliver when the key grated in the lock ; 
 and turned with a sigh to the book which had 
 been the innocent cause of all this disturbance. 
 
 " There is something in that boy's face,"" 
 said the old gentleman to himself as he walked 
 slowly away, tapping his chin with the cover of 
 the book in a thoughtful manner, " something 
 that touches and interests me. Can he be in- 
 nocent ? He looked like — By the bye," 
 exclaimed the old gentleman, halting very ab- 
 ruptly, and staring up into the sky, " God bless 
 my soul ! — where have I seen something like 
 that look before ?" 
 
 After musing for some minutes, the old gen- 
 tleman walked with the same meditative face 
 into a back ante-room opening from the yard ; 
 and there, retiring into a corner, called up be 
 
162 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 fore his mind''s eye a vast amphitheatre of faces 
 over which a dusky curtain had hung for many 
 years. " No," said the old gentleman, shaking 
 his head ; " it must be imagination." 
 
 He wandered over them again. He had call- 
 ed them into view, and it was not easy to re- 
 place the shroud that had so long concealed 
 them. There were the faces of friends and foes, 
 and of many that had been almost strangers, 
 peering intrusively from the crowd ; there were 
 the faces of young and blooming girls that were 
 now old women; there were others that the 
 grave had changed to ghastly trophies of death, 
 but which the mind, superior to his power, still 
 dressed in their old freshness and beauty, call- 
 ing back the lustre of the eyes, the brightness 
 of the smile, the beaming of the soul through 
 its mask of clay, and whispering of beauty 
 beyond the tomb, changed but to be heightened, 
 and taken from earth only to be set up as a 
 light to shed a soft and gentle glow upon the 
 path to Heaven. 
 
 But the old gentleman could recall no one 
 countenance of which Oliver's features bore a 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 163 
 
 trace ; so he heaved a sigh over the recollections 
 he had awakened, and being, happily for him- 
 self, an absent old gentleman, bm-ied them again 
 in the pages of the musty book. 
 ,,-He was roused by a touch on the shoulder, 
 and a request from the man with the keys to 
 follow him into the office. He closed his book 
 hastily, and was at once ushered into the im- 
 posing presence of the renowned Mr. Fang. 
 
 The office was a front parlour, with a pa- 
 neled wall. Mr. Fang sat behind a bar at the 
 upper end ; and on one side the door, was a 
 sort of wooden pen in which poor little Oliver 
 was already deposited, trembling very much at 
 the awfulness of the scene. 
 
 Mr. Fang was a middle-sized man, with no 
 great quantity of hair, and what he had, grow- 
 ing on the back and sides of his head. His 
 face was stern, and much flushed. If he were 
 really not in the habit of taking rather more 
 than was exactly good for him, he might have 
 brought an action against his countenance for 
 libel, and have recovered heavy damages. 
 
 The old gentleman bowed respectfully, and, 
 
164 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 advancing to the magistrate's desk, said, suiting 
 the action to the word, " That is my name and 
 address, sir." He then withdrew a pace or 
 two ; and, with another polite and gentlemanly 
 inclination of the head, waited to be questioned. 
 
 Now, it so happened that Mr. Fang was at 
 that moment perusing a leading article in a 
 newspaper of the morning, adverting to some 
 recent decision of his, and commending him, for 
 the three hundred ' and fiftieth time, to the 
 special and particular notice of the Secretary of 
 State for the Home Department. He was out 
 of temper, and he looked up with an angry 
 scowl. 
 
 " Who are you?'' said Mr. Fang. 
 
 The old gentleman pointed with some sur- 
 prise to his card. 
 
 " Officer !" said Mr. Fang, tossing the card 
 contemj^tuously away with the newspaper, 
 '' who is this fellow?" 
 
 " My name, sir," said the old gentleman, 
 speaking like a gentleman, — " my name, sir, 
 is Brownlow. Permit me to inquire the name 
 of the magistrate who offers a gratuitous and 
 
OLIVER TWIST, 165 
 
 unprovoked insult to a respectable man, under 
 the protection of the bench."*"' Saying this, 
 Mr. Brownlow looked round the office as if in 
 search of some person who would afford him 
 the required information. 
 
 " Officer ! " said Mr. Fang, throwing the 
 paper on one side, " what "*s this fellow charged 
 with?" 
 
 " He''s not charged at all, your worship,'" 
 replied the officer. " He appears against the 
 boy, your worship."" 
 
 His worship knew this perfectly well ; but 
 it was a good annoyance, and a safe one. 
 
 "Appears against the boy, does he?" said 
 Fang, surveying Mr. Brownlow contemptuously 
 from head to foot. " Swear him ! "'"' 
 
 " Before I am sworn I must beg to say one 
 word,"" said Mr. Brownlow ; " and that is, 
 that I never, without actual experience, could 
 have believed "" 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir !"" said Mr. Fang 
 peremptorily. 
 
 "I will not, sir!"" replied the old gentle- 
 man. 
 
166 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Hold your tongue this instant, or I '11 have 
 you turned out of the office ! " said Mr. Fang. 
 " You're an insolent, impertinent fellow. How 
 dare you bully a magistrate ! "" 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the old gentleman, 
 reddening. 
 
 " Swear this person !'** said Fang to the clerk. 
 " I '11 not hear another word. Swear him.'*"' 
 
 Mr. Brownlow's indignation was greatly 
 roused ; but, reflecting that he might only 
 injure the boy by giving vent to it, he sup- 
 pressed his feelings, and submitted to be sworn 
 at once. 
 
 " Now," said Fang, " what 's the charge 
 against this boy ? What have you got to say, 
 sir.?" 
 
 " I was standing at a book-stall—^" Mr. 
 Brownlow began. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! " said Mr. Fang. 
 " Policeman ! — where 's the policeman ? Here, 
 swear this man. Now, policeman, what is 
 this.?" 
 
 The policeman with becoming humility re- 
 lated how he had taken the charge, how he had 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 167 
 
 searched Oliver, and found nothing on his per- 
 son ; and how that was all he knew about it. 
 
 ''Are there any witnesses ? " inquired Mr. 
 Fang. 
 
 " None, your worship,"' repHed the pohce- 
 man. 
 
 Mr. Fang sat silent for some minutes, and 
 then, turning round to the prosecutor, said in a 
 towering passion, 
 
 " Do you mean to state what your complaint 
 against this boy is, fellow, or do you not ? 
 You have been sworn. Now, if you stand 
 there, refusing to give evidence, I 'II punish you 
 for disrespect to the bench ; I will, by '' 
 
 By what or by whom, nobody knows, for the 
 clerk and jailer coughed very loud just at the 
 right moment, and the former dropped a heavy 
 book upon the floor ; thus preventing the word 
 from being heard — accidentally, of course. 
 
 With many interruptions, and repeated in- 
 sults, Mr. Brownlow contrived to state his 
 case ; observing that, in the surprise of the mo- 
 ment, he had run after the boy because he saw 
 him running away, and expressing his hope 
 
168 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 that, if the magistrate should believe him, 
 although not actually the tliief, to be connected 
 with thieves, he would deal as leniently with 
 him as justice would allow. 
 
 " He has been hurt already,^' said the old 
 gentleman in conclusion. " And I fear," he 
 added, with great energy, looking towards the 
 bar, — " I really fear that he is very ill." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; I dare say ! " said Mr. Fang, 
 with a sneer. " Come ; none of your tricks 
 here, you young vagabond ; they won't do. 
 What 's your name ? " 
 
 Oliver tried to reply, but his tongue failed 
 him. He was deadly pale, and the whole place 
 seemed turning round and round. 
 
 " What's your name, you hardened scoun- 
 drel?" thundered Mr. Fang. " Officer, what's 
 his name ? " 
 
 This was addressed to a bluff old fellow in a 
 striped waistcoat, who was standing by the bar. 
 He bent over Oliver, and repeated the inquiry ; 
 but finding him really incapable of understand- 
 ing the question, and knowing that his not 
 replying would only infuriate the magistrate 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 169 
 
 the more, and add to the severity of his 
 sentence, he hazarded a guess. 
 
 " He says his name's Tom White, yom- 
 worship," said this kind-hearted thief-taker. 
 
 '' Oh, he won't speak out, won't he?"" said 
 Fang. " Very well, very well. Where does 
 he live?" 
 
 " Where he can, your worship," replied the 
 officer, again pretending to receive Oliver's 
 answer. 
 
 " Has he any parents ?^ inquired Mr. Fang. 
 
 " He says they died in his infancy, your 
 worship," replied the officer, hazarding the 
 usual reply. !► 
 
 At this point of the inquiry Oliver .raised his 
 head, and, looking round with imploring eyes, 
 murmured a feeble prayer for a draught of 
 water. 
 
 " StuiF and nonsense ! " said Mr. Fang ; 
 " don't try to make a fool of me." 
 
 " I think he really is ill, your worship," 
 remonstrated the officer. 
 
 " I know better," said Mr. Fang. 
 
 VOL. I. ' I 
 
170 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Take care of him, officer,""* said the old 
 gentleman, raising his hands instinctively; 
 « hem fall down." 
 
 " Stand away, officer,"" cried Fang savagely ; 
 "lethimifhelikes."' 
 
 Oliver availed himself of the kind permission, 
 and fell heavily to the floor in a fainting fit. 
 The men in the office looked at each other, but 
 no one dared to stir. 
 
 " I knew he was shamming," said Fang, as 
 if this were incontestable proof of the fact. 
 " Let him lie ; he '11 soon be tired of that." 
 
 " How do you propose to deal with the case, 
 sir ? " inquired the clerk in a low voice. 
 
 " Summarily," replied Mr. Fang. " He 
 stands committed for three months, — hard la- 
 bour of course. Clear the office." 
 
 The door was opened for this purpose, and a 
 couple of men were preparing to carry the in- 
 sensible boy to his cell, when an elderly man 
 of decent but poor appearance, clad in an old 
 suit of black, rushed hastily into the office, and 
 advanced to the bench. 
 
 " Stop, stop, — don't take him away, — for 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 171 
 
 Heaven's sake stop a moment,'' cried the new- 
 comer, breathless with haste. 
 
 Although the presiding geniuses in such an 
 office as this, exercise a summary and arbitrary 
 power over the liberties, the good name, the 
 character, almost the lives of Her Majesty's 
 subjects, especially of the poorer class ; and 
 although within such walls enough fantastic 
 tricks are daily played to make the angels weep 
 hot tears of blood, they are closed to the pub- 
 lic, save through the medium of the daily press. 
 Mr. Fang was consequently not a little indig- 
 nant to see an unbidden guest enter in such 
 irreverent disorder. 
 
 " What is this?— who is this? Turn this 
 man out. Clear the office," cried Mr. Fang. 
 
 " I will speak," cried the man ; " I will not be 
 turned out, — I saw it all. I keep the book- 
 stall. I demand to be sworn. I will not be 
 put down. Mr. Fang, you must hear me. 
 You dare not refuse, sir." 
 
 The man was right. His manner was bold 
 and determined, and the matter was growing 
 rather too serious to be hushed up. 
 
 r2 
 
112 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 '' Swear the fellow," growled Fang with a 
 very ill grace. " Now, man, what have you 
 got to say ? " 
 
 " This," said the man : " I saw three boys — 
 two others and the prisoner here — loitering on 
 the opposite side of the way, when this gentle- 
 man was reading. The robbery was committed 
 by another boy. I saw it done, and I saw that 
 this boy was perfectly amazed and stupified by 
 it." Having by this time recovered a little 
 breath, the worthy book-stall keeper proceeded 
 to relate in a more coherent manner the exact 
 circumstances of the robbery. 
 
 " Why didn't you come here before?" said 
 Fang after a pause. 
 
 " I hadn't a soul to mind the shop," replied 
 the man ; " everybody that could have helped 
 me had joined in the pursuit. I could get 
 nobody till five minutes ago, and I Ve run here 
 all the way." 
 
 " The prosecutor was reading, was he ? " 
 inquired Fang, after another pause. 
 
 " Yes," replied the man, " the very book he 
 has in his hand." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 173 
 
 " Oh, that book, eh?" said Fang. " Is it 
 paid for ? " 
 
 <-' No, it is not," replied the man, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Dear me, I forgot all about it ! " exclaimed 
 the absent old gentleman, innocently. 
 
 " A nice person to prefer a charge against a 
 poor boy ! " said Fang, with a comical effort to 
 look humane. " I consider, sir, that you have 
 obtained possession of that book under very sus- 
 picious and disreputable circumstances, and you 
 may think yourself very fortunate that the 
 owner of the property declines to prosecute. 
 Let this be a lesson to you, my man, or the 
 law will overtake you yet. The boy is dis- 
 charged. Clear the office ! " 
 
 " D — n me !" cried the old gentleman, burst- 
 ing out with the rage he had kept down so 
 
 long, " d— me ! 1 11 " 
 
 " Clear the office ! " roared the magistrate. 
 " Officers, do you hear ? Clear the office ! " 
 
 The mandate was obeyed, and the indignant 
 Mr. Brownlow was conveyed out, with the 
 book in one hand and the bamboo cane in the 
 
174 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 other in a perfect phrenzy of rage and defi- 
 ance. 
 
 He reached the yard, and it vanished in a 
 moment. Little OHver Twist lay on his back 
 on the pavement, with his shirt unbuttoned and 
 his temples bathed with water ; his face a dead- 
 ly white, and a cold tremble convulsing his 
 whole frame. 
 
 '' Poor boy, poor boy !" said Mr. Brownlow, 
 bending over him. " Call a coach, somebody, 
 pray, — directly ! " 
 
 A coach was obtained, and Oliver, having 
 been carefully laid on one seat, the old gentle- 
 man got in and sat himself on the other. 
 
 " May I accompany you?" said the book- 
 stall keeper, looking in. 
 
 " Bless me, yes, my dear friend,''* said Mr. 
 Brownlow quickly. " I forgot you. Dear, 
 dear ! I have this unhappy book still. Jump 
 in. Poor fellow ! there 's no time to lose."" 
 
 The book-stall keeper got into the coach, 
 and away they drove. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN WHICH OLIVER IS TAKEN BETTER CARE OF THAN HE 
 EVER WAS BEFORE. WITH SOME PARTICULARS CON- 
 CERNING A CERTAIN PICTURE. 
 
 The coach rattled away clown Mount Plea- 
 sant and up Exmouth-street, — over nearly the 
 same ground as that which Oliver had traversed 
 when he first entered London in company with 
 the Dodger, — and, turning a different way 
 when it reached the Angel at Islington, stopped 
 at length before a neat house in a quiet shady 
 street near Pentonville. Here a bed was pre- 
 pared without loss of time, in which Mr. Brown- 
 low saw his young charge carefully and com- 
 fortably deposited; and here he was tended 
 with a kindness and solicitude which knew no 
 bounds. 
 
 But for many days Oliver remained insensible 
 
176 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 to all the goodness of his new friends ; the sun 
 rose and sunk, and rose and sunk again, and 
 many times after that, and still the boy lay 
 stretched upon his uneasy bed, dwindling away 
 beneath the dry and wasting heat of fever,— 
 that heat which, like the subtle acid that gnaws 
 into the very heart of hardest iron, burns only 
 to corrode and to destroy. The worm does not 
 his work more surely on the dead body, than 
 does this slow creeping fire upon the living 
 frame. 
 
 Weak, and thin, and pallid, he awoke at 
 last from what seemed to have been a long and 
 troubled dream. Feebly raising himself in the 
 bed, with his head resting on his trembling arm, 
 he looked anxiously round. 
 
 " What room is this? — where have I been 
 brought to?" said Oliver. " This is not the 
 place I went to sleep in.""* 
 
 He uttered these words in a feeble voice, 
 being very faint and weak ; but they were over- 
 heai'd at once, for the curtain at the bed's head 
 was hastily drawn back, and a motherly old 
 lady, very neatly and precisely dressed, rose as 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 177 
 
 she undrew it, from an arm-chair close by, in 
 which she had been sitting at needle-work. 
 
 "■ Hush, my dear," said the old lady softly. 
 " You must be very quiet, or you will be ill 
 again, and you have been very bad, — as bad 
 as bad could be, pretty nigh. Lie down again 
 — there 's a dear," With these words the old 
 lady very gently placed Oliver's head upon the 
 pillow, and, smoothing back his hair from his 
 forehead, looked so kindly and lovingly in his 
 face, that he could not help placing his little 
 withered hand upon hers, and drawing it round 
 his neck. 
 
 " Save us !" said the old lady, with tears in 
 her eyes, " what a grateful little dear it is. 
 Pretty creetur ! what would his mother feel if 
 she had sat by him as I have, and could see 
 him now ! " 
 
 " Perhaps she does see me," whispered Oli- 
 ver, folding his hands together; "perhaps she has 
 sat by me, ma"'am. I almost feel as if she had." 
 
 " That was the fever, my dear," said the old 
 lady mildly. 
 
 " I suppose it was," replied Oliver thought- 
 
 i5 
 
178 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 fully, " becanse heaven is a long way off, and 
 they are too happy there to come down to the 
 bedside of a poor boy. But if she knew I was 
 ill, she must have pitied me even there, for she 
 was very ill herself before she died. She can't 
 know anything about me though," added Oliver 
 after a moment's silence, " for if she had seen 
 me beat, it would have made her sorrowful ; 
 and her face has always looked sweet and happy 
 when I have dreamt of her.*" 
 
 The old lady made no reply to this, but 
 wiping her eyes. first, and her spectacles, which 
 lay on the counterpane, afterwards, as if they 
 were part and parcel of those features, brought 
 some cool stuff for Oliver to drink, and then 
 patting him on the cheek, told him he must lie 
 very quiet, or he would be ill again. 
 
 So Oliver kept very still, partly because he 
 was anxious to obey the kind old lady in all 
 things, and partly, to tell the truth, because he 
 was completely exhausted with what he had 
 already said. He soon fell into a gentle doze, 
 from which he was awakened by the light of a 
 candle, which, being brought near the bed, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 179 
 
 showed him a gentleman, with a very large 
 and loud-ticking gold watch in his hand, who 
 felt his pulse and said he was a great deal 
 better. 
 
 '' You are a great deal better, are you not, 
 my dear?" said the gentleman. 
 
 " Yes, thank you, sir,'' repUed Oliver. 
 " Yes, I know you are,'' said the gentleman : 
 '' You're hungry too, an't you ?" 
 " No, sir," answered Oliver. 
 " Hem !" said the gentleman. " No, I know 
 you 're not. He is not hungry, Mrs. Bedwin," 
 said the gentleman, looking very wise. 
 
 The old lady made a respectful inclination of 
 the head, which seemed to say that she thought 
 the doctor was a very clever man. The doctor 
 appeared very much of the same opinion him- 
 self. 
 
 " You feel sleepy, don't you, my dear.^'' 
 
 said the doctor. 
 
 " No, sir," repUed Oliver. 
 
 '' No," said the doctor with a very shrewd 
 and satisfied look. "You're not sleepy. 
 Nor thirsty, are you?" 
 
180 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Yes, sir, rather thirsty," answered Oliver. 
 
 " Just as I expected, Mrs. Bedwin,"' said the 
 doctor. " It \s very natural that he should be 
 thirsty — perfectly natural. You may give him 
 a little tea, ma'am, and some dry toast without 
 any butter. Don't keep him too warm, ma'am 4 
 but be careful that you don't let him be too 
 cold — will you have the goodness ? " 
 
 The old lady dropped a curtsey; and the 
 doctor, after tasting the cool stuff, and express- 
 ing a qualified approval thereof, hurried away : 
 his boots creaking in a very important and 
 wealthy manner as he went down stairs. 
 
 Oliver dozed off again soon after this, and 
 when he awoke it was nearly twelve o'clock. 
 The old lady tenderly bade him good-night 
 shortly afterwards, and left him in charge of a 
 fat old woman who had just come, bringing 
 with her in a little bundle a small Prayer 
 Book and a large nightcap. Putting the latter 
 on her head, and the former on the table, the 
 old woman, after telling Oliver that she had 
 come to sit up with him, drew her chair close 
 to the fire and went off into a series of short 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ISl 
 
 naps, chequered at frequent internals with sun- 
 dry tumbhngs forward, and divers moans and 
 chokings, which, however, had no worse eiFect 
 than causing her to rub her nose very hard, and 
 then fall asleep again. 
 
 And thus the night crept slowly on. Oliver 
 lay awake for some time, counting the little cir- 
 cles of light which the reflection of the rushlight- 
 shade threw upon the ceiling, or tracing with 
 his languid eyes the intricate pattern of the 
 paper on the wall. The darkness and deep 
 stillness of the room were very solemn ; and as 
 they brought into the boy's mind the thought 
 that death had been hovering there for many 
 days and nights, and might yet fill it with the 
 gloom and dread of his awful presence, he turn- 
 ed his face upon the pillow, and fervently prayed 
 to Heaven. 
 
 Gradually he fell into that deep tranquil 
 sleep which ease from recent suiFering alone im- 
 parts ; that calm and peaceful rest which it is 
 pain to wake from. Who, if this were death, 
 would be roused again to all the struggles and 
 turmoils of life, — to all its cares for the present. 
 
182 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 its anxieties for the future, and, more than all, 
 its weary recollections of the past ! 
 
 It had been bright day for hours when Oliver 
 opened his eyes, and when he did so, he ftlt 
 cheerful and happy. The crisis of the disease 
 was safely past, and he belonged to the world 
 again. 
 
 In three days' time he was able to sit in an 
 easy-chair well propped up with pillows ; and, 
 as he was still too weak to walk, Mrs. Bedwin 
 had him carried down stairs into the little 
 house-keeper's room, which belonged to her, 
 where having sat him up by the fireside, the 
 good old lady sat herself down too, and, being 
 in a state of considerable delight at seeing him 
 so much better, forthwith began to cry most 
 violently. 
 
 " Never mind me, my dear," said the old 
 lady ; " I 'm only having a regular good cry. 
 There ; it 's all over now, and I 'm quite com- 
 fortable." 
 
 " You 're very, very kind to me, ma'am," 
 said Olivei. 
 
 '' Well, ^never you mind that, my dear," said 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 183 
 
 the old lady; " that's got nothing to do with 
 your broth, and it's full time you had it, for the 
 doctor says Mr. Brownlow may come in to see 
 you this morning, and we must get up our best 
 looks, because the better we look the more 
 he'll be pleased." And with this, the old 
 lady applied herself to warming up in a little 
 saucepan a basin full of broth, strong enough 
 to furnish an ample dinner, when reduced 
 to the regulation strength, for three hundred 
 and fifty paupers, at the very lowest compu- 
 tation. 
 
 " Are you fond of pictures, dear?" inquired 
 the old lady, seeing that Oliver had fixed his 
 eyes most intently on a portrait which hung 
 against the wall just opposite his chair. 
 
 " I don't quite know, ma'am," said Oliver, 
 without taking his eyes from the canvass ; " I 
 have seen so few that I hardly know. What a 
 beautiful, mild face that lady's is ! " 
 
 " Ah !" said the old lady, " painters always 
 make ladies out prettier than they are, or they 
 wouldn't get any custom, child. The man that 
 invented the machine for taking likenesses 
 
184 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 might have known that would never succeed; 
 it's a deal too honest, — a deal," said the old 
 lady, laughing very heartily at her own acute- 
 ness. 
 
 " Is — is that a likeness, ma'am ?" said Oliver. 
 
 " Yes," said the old lady, looking up for a 
 moment from the broth ; " that 's a portrait." 
 
 " Whose, ma'am ?" asked Oliver eagerly. 
 
 " Why, really, my dear, I don't know," 
 answered the old lady in a good-humoured 
 manner. " It 's not a likeness of anybody that 
 you or I know, I expect. It seems to strike 
 your fancy, dear." 
 
 "It is so very pretty — so very beautiful," 
 replied Oliver. 
 
 "Why, sure you're not afraid of it?" said 
 the old lady, observing in great surprise the look 
 of awe with which the child regarded the paint- 
 ing. 
 
 " Oh no, no," returned Oliver quickly ; " but 
 the eyes look so sorrowful, and where I sit they 
 seem fixed upon me. It makes my heart beat," 
 added Oliver in a low voice, " as if it was 
 alive, and wanted to speak to me, but couldn't." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 185 
 
 "Lord save us!" exclaimed the old lady, 
 starting ; " don't talk in that way, child. 
 You"*re weak and nervous after your illness. 
 Let me wheel your chair round to the other 
 side, and then you won't see it. There," said 
 the old lady, suiting the action to the word ; 
 "you don't see it now, at all events." 
 
 Oliver did see it in his mind's eye as distinct- 
 ly as if he had not altered his position, but he 
 thought it better not to worry the kind old 
 lady ; so he smiled gently when she looked at 
 him, and Mrs. Bedwin, satisfied that he felt 
 more comfortable, salted and broke bits of 
 toasted bread into the broth with all the bustle 
 befitting so solemn a preparation. Oliver got 
 through it with extraordinary expedition, and 
 had scarcely swallowed the last spoonful when 
 there came a soft tap at the door. " Come 
 in," said the old lady; and in walked Mr. 
 Brownlow. 
 
 Now, the old gentleman came in as brisk as 
 need be ; but he had no sooner raised his spec- 
 tacles on his forehead, and thrust his hands 
 behind the skirts of his dressing-gown to take a 
 
186 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 good long look at Oliver, than his countenance 
 underwent a very great variety of odd contor- 
 tions. Oliver looked very worn and shadowy 
 from sickness, and made an ineffectual attempt 
 to stand up, out of respect to his benefactor, 
 which terminated in his sinking back into the 
 chair again ; and the fact is, if the truth must 
 be told, that Mr. Brownlow's heart being large 
 enough for any six ordinary old gentlemen of 
 humane disposition, forced a supply of tears into 
 his eyes by some hydraulic process which we 
 are not sufficiently philosophical to be in a con- 
 dition to explain. 
 
 " Poor boy, poor boy !" said Mr. Brownlow, 
 clearing his throat. " I 'm rather hoarse this 
 morning, Mrs. Bedwin ; I 'm afraid I have 
 caught cold." 
 
 " I hope not, sir," said Mrs. Bedwin. 
 " Everything you have had, has been well aired, 
 sir." 
 
 " I don't know, Bedvvin, — I donU know," 
 said Mr. Brownlow ; " I rather think I had a 
 damp napkin at dinner-time yesterday : but 
 never mind that. How do you feel, my dear ?" 
 
'WjwjYjjfc^Wtej-' 
 
 ^^'^^ .^^^.i^;^^^, ^, ^ 
 
 y4f^^^, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 187 
 
 " Very happy, sir," replied Oliver, and 
 very grateful indeed, sir, for your goodness 
 to me." 
 
 " Good boy," said Mr. Brownlow stoutly. 
 " Have you given him any nourishment, Bed- 
 win ?• — any slops, eh ? " 
 
 " He has just had a basin of beautiful strong 
 broth, sir," replied Mrs. Bedwin, drawing her- 
 self up slightly, and laying a strong emphasis 
 on the last word, to intimate that between 
 slops, and broth well compounded, there existed 
 no affinity or connexion whatsoever. 
 
 " Ugh ! " said Mr. Brownlow, with a slight 
 shudder ; "a couple of glasses of port wine 
 would have done him a great deal more good, 
 —wouldn't they, Tom White,— eh?" 
 
 " My name is Oliver, sir," repHed the little 
 invalid with a look of great astonishment. 
 
 " Oliver," said Mr. Brownlow ; '' Oliver 
 what ? Oliver White,— eh ? " 
 
 " No, sir, Twist,— Oliver Twist." 
 " Queer name," said the old gentleman. 
 What made you tell the magistrate your name 
 was White?" 
 
188 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " I never told liim so, sir," returned Oliver 
 in amazement. 
 
 This sounded so like a falsehood, that the 
 old gentleman looked somewhat sternly in Oli- 
 ver''s face. It was impossible to doubt him ; 
 there was truth in every one of its thin and 
 sharpened lineaments. 
 
 " Some mistake," said Mr. Brownlow. 
 But, although his motive for looking steadily at 
 Oliver no longer existed, the old idea of the 
 resemblance between his features and some 
 familiar face came upon him so strongly that 
 he could not withdraw his gaze. 
 
 " I hojie you are not angry with me, sir ?"" 
 said Oliver, raising his eyes beseechingly. 
 
 " No, no," replied the old gentleman. — 
 " Gracious God, what 's this ! — Bedwin, look, 
 look there!" 
 
 As he spoke, he pointed hastily to the pic- 
 ture above 01iver''s head, and then to the boy's 
 face. There was its living copy, — the eyes, 
 the head, the mouth ; every feature was the 
 same. The expression was for the instant so 
 precisely alike, that the minutest line seemed 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 189 
 
 copied with an accuracy which was perfectly 
 unearthly. 
 
 OHver knew not the cause of this sudden 
 exclamation, for he was not strong enough 
 to bear the start it gave him, and he fainted 
 awav. 
 
190 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 REVERTS TO THE MERRY OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS 
 YOUTHFUL FRIENDS, THROUGH WHOM A NEW ACQUAINT- 
 ANCE IS INTRODUCED TO THE INTELLIGENT READER, AND 
 CONNECTED WITH WHOM VARIOUS PLEASANT MATTERS 
 ARE RELATED APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY. 
 
 Whew the Dodger and his accompHshed 
 friend Master Bates joined in the hue-and-cry 
 which was raised at OUver's heels, in conse- 
 quence of their executing an illegal conveyance 
 of Mr. Brownlow's personal property, as has 
 been already described with great perspicuity 
 in a foregoing chapter, they were actuated, as 
 we therein took occasion to observe, by a very 
 laudable and becoming regard for themselves: 
 and forasmuch as the freedom of the subject 
 and the liberty of the individual are among the 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 191 
 
 first and proudest boasts of a true-hearted Eng- 
 lishman, so I need hardly beg the reader to ob- 
 serve that this action must tend to exalt them 
 in the opinion of all public and patriotic men, in 
 almost as great a degree as this strong proof of 
 their anxiety for their own preservation and 
 safety goes to corroborate and confirm the little 
 code of laws which certain profound and sound- 
 judging philosophers have laid down as the 
 mainsprings of all Nature's deeds and actions ; 
 the said philosophers very wisely reducing the 
 good lady's proceedings to matters of maxim 
 and theory, and by a very neat and pretty 
 compliment to her exalted wisdom and under- 
 standing, putting entirely out of sight any con- 
 siderations of heart, or generous impulse and 
 feeling, as matters totally beneath a female who 
 is acknowledged by universal admission to be so 
 far beyond the numerous little foibles and weak- 
 nesses of her sex. 
 
 If I wanted any further proof of the strictly 
 philosophical nature of the conduct of these 
 yoimg gentlemen in their very delicate predica- 
 ment, I should at once find it in the fact (also 
 
192 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 recorded in a foregoing- part of this narrative) of 
 their quitting the pursuit Avhen the general at- 
 tention was fixed upon OHver, and making im- 
 mediately for their home by the shortest possi- 
 ble cut ; for although I do not mean to assert 
 that it is the practice of renowned and learned 
 sages at all to shorten the road to any great 
 conclusion, their course indeed being rather to 
 lengthen the distance by various circumlocutions 
 and discursive staggerings, like unto those in 
 which drunken men under the pressure of a too 
 mighty flow of ideas are prone to indulge, still I 
 do mean to say, and do say distinctly, that it is 
 the invariable practice of all mighty philoso- 
 phers, in carrying out their theories, to evince 
 great wisdom and foresight in providing against 
 every possible contingency which can be sup- 
 posed at all likely to affect themselves. Thus, 
 to do a great right, you may do a little wrong, 
 and you may take any means which the end to 
 be attained will justify ; the amount of the right 
 or the amount of the wrong, or indeed the dis- 
 tinction between the two, being left entirely to 
 the philosopher concerned : to be settled and 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 193 
 
 determined by his clear, comprehensive, and im- 
 partial view of his own particular case. 
 
 It w^as not until the two boys had scoured 
 with great rapidity through a most intricate 
 maze of narrow streets and courts, that they 
 ventured to halt by one consent beneath a 
 low and dark archway. Having remained si- 
 lent here, just long enough to recover breath to 
 speak, Master Bates uttered an exclamation of 
 amusement and delight, and, bursting into an 
 uncontrollable fit of laughter, flung himself upon 
 a door-step, and rolled thereon in a transport of 
 mirth. 
 
 " What's the matter ?"' inquired the Dodger. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" roared Charley Bates. 
 
 '' Hold your noise,'' remonstrated the Dod- 
 ger, looking cautiously round. " Do you want 
 to be grabbed, stupid ? " 
 
 " I can't help it," said Charley, '' I can't 
 help it. To see him splitting away at that 
 pace, and cutting round the corners, and knock- 
 ing up against the posts, and starting on again 
 as if he was made of iron as well as them, and 
 me with the wipe in my pocket, singing out 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 arter him — oh, my eye!" The vivid imagina- 
 tion of Master Bates presented the scene before 
 him in too strong colours. As he arrived at 
 this apostrophe, he again rolled upon the door- 
 step, and laughed louder than before. 
 
 " What '11 Fagin say?" inquired the Dodger, 
 taking advantage of the next interval of breath- 
 lessness on the part of his friend to propound 
 the question. 
 
 '' What !" repeated Charley Bates. 
 
 " Ah, what ?'' said the Dodger. 
 
 "Why, what should he say?" inquired 
 Charley, stopping rather suddenly in his merri- 
 ment, for the Dodger's manner was impressive ; 
 " what should he say ? " 
 
 Mr. Dawkins whistled for a couple of mi- 
 nutes, and then, taking off his hat, scratched his 
 head and nodded thrice. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Charley. 
 " Toor rul lol loo, gammon and spinnage, 
 the frog he wouldn t, and high cockolorum," 
 said the Dodger, with a slight sneer on his in- 
 tellectual countenance. 
 
 This was explanatory, but not satisfactory. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 195 
 
 Master Bates felt it so, and again said, " What 
 do you mean ? ""^ 
 
 The Dodger made no reply, but putting his 
 hat on again, and gathering the skirts of his 
 long-tailed coat under his arms, thrust his 
 tong-ue into his cheek, slapped the bridge of his 
 nose some half-dozen times in a familiar but ex- 
 pressive manner, and turning on his heel, slunk 
 down the court. Master Bates followed, 
 with a thoughtful countenance. The noise of 
 footsteps on the creaking stairs a few minutes 
 after the occurrence of this conversation roused 
 the merry old gentleman as he sat over the fire 
 with a saveloy and a small loaf in his left hand, 
 a pocket knife in his right, and a pewter pot 
 on the trivet. There was a rascally smile on 
 his white face as he turned round, and, look- 
 ing sharply out from under his thick red eye- 
 brows, bent his ear towards the door and listen- 
 ed intently. 
 
 ''Why, how's this?'' muttered the Jew, 
 changing countenance ; " only two of 'em ! 
 Where's the third ? They can't have got into 
 
 trouble. Hark ! " 
 
 k2 
 
196 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 The footsteps approached nearer ; they reach- 
 ed the landing, the door was slowly opened, 
 and the Dodger and Charley Bates entered 
 and closed it behind them. 
 
 "Where's Oliver?'' said the furious Jew, 
 rising with a menacing look : " where 's the 
 boy?" 
 
 The young thieves eyed their preceptor as if 
 they were alarmed at his violence, and looked 
 uneasily at each other, but made no reply. 
 
 " What's become of the boy ?" said the Jew, 
 seizing the Dodger tightly by the collar, and 
 threatening him with horrid imprecations. 
 " Speak out, or I'll throttle you !" 
 
 Mr. Fagin looked so very much in earnest, 
 that Charley Bates, who deemed it prudent in 
 all cases to be on the safe side, and conceived it 
 by no means improbable that it might be his 
 turn to be throttled second, drojDped upon his 
 knees, and raised a loud, well-sustained, and 
 continuous roar, something between an insane 
 bull and a speaking-trumpet. 
 
 " Will you speak ? " thundered the Jew, 
 shaking the Dodger so much that his keeping 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 197 
 
 in the big coat at all seemed perfectly mira- 
 culous. 
 
 '' Why, the traps have got him, and that 's 
 all about it,'' said the Dodger sullenly. " Come, 
 let go o' me, will you ! "" and, swinging himself 
 at one jerk clean out of the big coat, which he 
 left in the Jew's hands, the Dodger snatched up 
 the toasting-fork and made a pass at the merry 
 old gentleman's waistcoat, which, if it had 
 taken effect, would have let a little more merri- 
 ment out than could have been easily replaced 
 in a month or two. 
 
 The Jew stepped back in this emergency 
 with more agility than could have been antici- 
 pated in a man of his apparent decrepitude, 
 and, seizing up the pot, prepared to hurl it 
 at his assailant's head. But Charley Bates at 
 this moment caUing his attention by a per- 
 fectly terrific howl, he suddenly altered its 
 destination, and flung it full at that young gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Why, what the blazes is in the wind now ! " 
 growled a deep voice. " Who pitched that 
 'ere at me ? It 's well it 's the beer, and not the 
 
198 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 pot, as hit me, or I 'd have settled somebody. 
 I might have know'd, as nobody but an infernal, 
 rich, plundering, thundering old Jew could afford 
 to throw away any drink but water, and not 
 that, unless he done the River company every 
 quarter. Wot 's it all about, Fagin ? D — ^me, 
 if my neckankecher an't lined with beer. Come 
 in, you sneaking warmint ; wot are you stop- 
 ping outside for, as if you was ashamed of your 
 master. Come in ! "" 
 
 The man who growled out these words was 
 a stoutly-built fellow of about five-and- thirty, 
 in a black velveteen coat, very soiled drab 
 breeches, lace-up half-boots, and grey cotton 
 stockings, which enclosed a very bulky pair of 
 legs, Avith large swelling calves, — the kind of 
 legs which in such costume always look in an 
 unfinished and incomplete state without a set of 
 fetters to garnish them. He had a brown hat 
 on his head, and a dirty belcher handkerchief 
 round his neck, with the long frayed ends of 
 which he smeared the beer from his face as he 
 spoke : disclosing, when he had done so, a broad 
 heavy countenance with a beard of three days' 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 199 
 
 growth, and two scowling eyes, one of which 
 displayed various parti- coloured symptoms of 
 having heen recently damaged by a blow. 
 
 "Come in, d'ye hear?" growled this en- 
 gaging-looking ruffian. A white shaggy dog, 
 with his face scratched and torn in twenty dif- 
 ferent places, skulked into the room. 
 
 " Why didn't you come in afore ? " said the 
 man. " You 're getting too proud to own me 
 afore company, are you ? Lie down l'"* 
 
 This command was accompanied with a 
 kick which sent the animal to the other end of 
 the room. He appeared well used to it, how- 
 ever ; for he coiled himself up in a corner, very 
 quietly without uttering a sound, and, wink- 
 ing his very ill-looking eyes about twenty times 
 in a minute, appeared to occupy himself in 
 taking a survey of the apartment. 
 
 " What are you up to ? Ill-treating the 
 boys, you covetous, avaricious in-sa-ti-a-ble old 
 fence ? " said the man, seating himself delibe- 
 rately. " I wonder they don't murder you ; / 
 would if I was them. If I \1 been your 'pren- 
 tice, I 'd have done it long ago ; and — no, I 
 
200 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 coiilcln''t have sold you arter wards, though ; for 
 you 're fit for nothing hut keeping as a curiosity 
 of ughness in a glass hottle, and I suppose they 
 don't hlow them large enough." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! Mr. Sikes," said the Jew, 
 trembling ; " don't speak so loud." 
 
 " None of your mistering," replied the ruf- 
 fian ; " you always mean mischief when you 
 come that. You know my name : out with it. 
 I shan't disgrace it when the time comes." 
 
 " Well, well, then— Bill Sikes," said the Jew 
 with abject humility. "• You seem out of hu- 
 
 mour. Bill." 
 
 " Perhaps I am," replied Sikes. " I should 
 think you were rather out of sorts too, unless 
 you mean as little harm when you throw pew- 
 ter pots about, as you do when you blab and 
 
 " Are you mad ?" said the Jew, catching the 
 man by the sleeve, and pointing towards the 
 boys. 
 
 Mr. Sikes contented himself with tying an 
 imaginary knot under his left ear, and jerking 
 his head oven on the right shoulder ; a piece of 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 201 
 
 dumb show which the Jew appeared to under- 
 stand perfectly. He then m cant terms, with 
 which his whole conversation was plentifully 
 besprinkled, but which would be quite unintelli- 
 gible if they were recorded here, demanded a 
 glass of liquor. 
 
 " And mind you don't poison it," said Mr. 
 Sikes, laying his hat upon the table. 
 
 This was said in jest; but if the speaker 
 could have seen the evil leer with which the 
 Jew bit his pale lip as he turned round to the 
 cupboard, he might have thought the caution 
 not wholly unnecessary, or the wish (at all 
 events,) to improve upon the distiller's ingenuity 
 not very far from the old gentleman's merry 
 heart. 
 
 After swallowing two or three glassfulls of 
 spirits, Mr. Sikes condescended to take some 
 notice of the young gentlemen ; which gracious 
 act led to a conversation in which the cause and 
 manner of Oliver's capture were circumstantially 
 detailed, with such alterations and improvements 
 on the truth as to the Dodger appeared most 
 advisable under the circumstances. 
 
 K 5 
 
^02 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " I 'm afraid," said the Jew, '' that he may 
 say something which will get us into trouble." 
 
 " That's very likely," returned Sikes with 
 a malicious grin. " You 're bio wed upon, 
 Fagin." 
 
 " And I 'm afraid, you see," added the Jew, 
 speaking as if he had not noticed the interrup- 
 tion, and regarding the other closely as he did 
 so, — " I 'm afraid that, if the game was up with 
 us, it might be up with a good many more ; and 
 that it would come out rather worse for you 
 than it would for me, my dear." 
 
 The man started, and turned fiercely round 
 upon the Jew ; but the old gentleman's shoul- 
 ders were shrugged up to his ears, and his eyes 
 were vacantly staring on the opposite wall. 
 
 There was a long pause. Every member of 
 the respectable coterie appeared plunged in his 
 own reflections, not excepting the dog, who 
 by a certain malicious licking of his lips seemed 
 to be meditating an attack upon the legs of the 
 first gentleman or lady he might encounter in 
 the streets when he went out. 
 
 " Somebody must find out what 's been done 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 203 
 
 at the office," said Mr. Sikes in a much lower 
 tone than he had taken since he came in. 
 
 The Jew nodded assent. 
 
 " If he hasn''t peached, and is committed, 
 there's no fear till he comes out again," said 
 Mr. Sikes, " and then he must be taken care 
 on. You must get hold of him, somehow." 
 
 Again the Jew nodded. 
 
 The prudence of this line of action, indeed, 
 was obvious, but unfortunately there was one 
 very strong objection to its being adopted ; and 
 this was, that the Dodger, and Charley Bates, 
 and Fagin, and Mr. William Sikes, happened 
 one and all to entertain a most violent and deep- 
 ly-rooted antipathy to going near a police-office 
 on any ground or pretext whatever. 
 
 How long they might have sat and looked at 
 each other in a state of uncertainty not the 
 most pleasant of its kind, it is difficult to say. 
 It is not necessary to make auy guesses on 
 the subject, however ; for the sudden entrance 
 of the two young ladies whom Oliver had seen 
 on a former occasion caused the conversation to 
 flow afresh. 
 
204 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 "The very thing!" said the Jew. "Bet 
 will go ; won't you, my dear ? " 
 
 " Wheres?" inquired the young lady. 
 
 " Only just up to the office, my dear," said 
 the Jew coaxingly. 
 
 It is due to the young lady to say that she 
 did not positively affirm that she would not, but 
 that she merely expressed an emphatic and earn- 
 est desire to be " blessed " if she would ; a polite 
 and delicate evasion of the request, which shows 
 the young lady to have been possessed of that 
 natural good-breeding which cannot bear to inffict 
 upon a fellow-creature the pain of a direct and 
 pointed refusal. 
 
 The Jew's countenance fell, and he turned 
 from this young lady, who was gaily, not to say 
 gorgeously attired, in a red gown, green boots, 
 and yellow curl-papers, to the other female. 
 
 " Nancy, my dear," said the Jew in a sooth- 
 ing manner, " what do you say ? " 
 
 '' That it won't do ; so it 's no use a-trying it 
 on, Fagin," replied Nancy. 
 
 ••' What do you mean by that?" said Mr. 
 SikeSj looking up in a surly manner. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 205 
 
 " What I say, Bill,'' replied the lady collect- 
 edly. 
 
 " Why, you 're just the very person for it," 
 reasoned Mr. Sikes : " nobody about here 
 knows anything of you." 
 
 " And as I don't want 'em to, neither," 
 replied Nancy in the same composed man- 
 ner, " it 's rather more no than yes with me, 
 Bill." 
 
 " She'll go, Fagin," said Sikes. 
 
 " No, she won't, Fagin," bawled Nancy. 
 
 " Yes, she will, Fagin," said Sikes. 
 
 And Mr. Sikes was right. By dint of al- 
 ternate threats, promises, and bribes, the 
 female in question was ultimately prevailed 
 upon to undertake the commission. She was 
 not indeed withheld by the same considerations 
 as her agreeable friend, for having very recently 
 removed into the neighbourhood of Field-lane 
 from the remote but genteel suburb of Ratcliffe, 
 she was not under the same apprehension of 
 being recognised by any of her numerous ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Accordingly, with a clean white apron tied 
 
206 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 over her gown, and her curl-papers tucked 
 up under a straw bonnet, — both articles of dress 
 being provided from the Jew's inexhaustible 
 stock, — Miss Nancy prepared to issue forth on 
 her errand. 
 
 " Stop a minute, my clear,"' said the Jew, 
 producing a little covered basket. " Carry that 
 in one hand ; it looks more respectable, my 
 dear;' 
 
 " Give her a door-key to carry in her t'other 
 one, Fagin," said Sikes ; " it looks real and 
 genivine like." 
 
 " Yes, yes, my dear, so it does," said the 
 Jew, hanging a large street-door key on the 
 fore-finger of the young lady's right hand. 
 " There; very good, — very good indeed, my 
 dear," said the Jew, rubbing his hands. 
 
 '' Oh, my bi'other ! my poor, dear, sweet, 
 innocent little brother !" exclaimed Nancy, 
 bursting into tears, and wringing the little bas- 
 ket and the street-door key in an agony of dis- 
 tress. " What has become of him I — where 
 have they taken him to ! Oh, do have pity, 
 and tell me -what's been done with the dear 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 207 
 
 boy, gentlemen ; do, gentlemen, if you please, 
 gentlemen.''' 
 
 Having uttered these words in a most lamen- 
 table and heart-broken tone, to the immeasura- 
 ble delight of her hearers, Miss Nancy paused, 
 winked to the company, nodded smilingly round, 
 and disappeared. 
 
 " Ah ! she 's a clever girl, my dears," said 
 the Jew, turning round to his young friends, 
 and shaking his head gravely, as if in mute 
 admonition to them to follow the bright example 
 they had just beheld. 
 
 She's a honour to her sex," said Mr. Sikes, 
 filling his glass, and smiting the table with his 
 enormous fist. " Here 's her health, and wish- 
 ing they was all like her ! "" 
 
 While these and many other encomiums were 
 being passed on the accomplished Nancy, 
 that young lady made the best of her Avay to 
 the police-office ; whither, notwithstanding a 
 little natural timidity consequent upon walking 
 through the streets alone and unprotected, she 
 arrived in perfect safety shortly afterwards. 
 Entering by the back way, she tapped softly 
 
208 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 with the key at one of the cell-doors, and listen- 
 ed. There was no sound within, so she cough- 
 ed and listened again. Still there was no 
 reply, so she spoke. 
 
 " Nolly, dear?" murmured Nancy in a gen- 
 tle voice;— " Nolly?'' 
 
 There was nobody inside but a miserable 
 shoeless criminal, who had been taken up for 
 playing the flute, and who — the offence against 
 society having been clearly j^roved — had been 
 very properly committed by Mr. Fang to the 
 House of Correction for one month, with the 
 appropriate and amusing remark that since he 
 had so much breath to spare, it would be 
 much more wholesomely expended on the tread- 
 mill than in a musical instrument. He made 
 no answer, being occupied in mentally bewailing 
 the loss of the flute, which had been confiscated 
 for the use of the county ; so Nancy passed 
 on to the next cell, and knocked there. 
 
 " Well," cried a faint and feeble voice. 
 
 " Is there a little boy here ?" inquired Nancy 
 with a preliminary sob. 
 
 " No," replied the voice ; " God forbid !" 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 209 
 
 This was a vagrant of sixty- five, who was 
 going to prison for not playing the flute, or, in 
 other words, for begging in the streets, and 
 doing nothing for his Hvehhood. In the next 
 cell was another man, who was going to the 
 same prison for hawking tin saucepans without 
 a licence : thereby doing something for his living 
 in defiance of the Stamp-office. 
 
 But, as neither of these criminals answered to 
 the name of Oliver, or knew anything about 
 him, Nancy made straight up to the bluff 
 officer in the striped waistcoat, and with the 
 most piteous wailings and lamentations, ren- 
 dered more piteous by a prompt and efficient 
 use of the street-door key and the little basket, 
 demanded her own dear brother. 
 
 " I haven't got him, my dear," said the old 
 man. 
 
 " Where is he?" screamed Nancy in a dis- 
 tracted manner. 
 
 '' Why, the gentleman 's got him," replied 
 the officer. 
 
 " What gentleman ? — Oh, gracious heavens ! 
 what gentleman ?" exclaimed Nancy. 
 
210 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 In reply to this incoherent questioning, the 
 old man informed the deeply affected sister 
 that Oliver had been taken ill in the office, and 
 discharged in consequence of a witness having 
 proved the robbery to have been committed by 
 another boy not in custody ; and that the pro- 
 secutor had carried him away in an insensible 
 condition to his own residence, of and concern- 
 ing which all the informant knew was, that it 
 was somewhere at Pentonville ; he having heard 
 that word mentioned in the directions to the 
 coachman. 
 
 In a dreadful state of doubt and uncertainty 
 the agonised young woman staggered to the 
 gate, and then, — exchanging her faltering gait 
 for a good swift steady run, returned by the 
 most devious and complicated route she could 
 think of, to the domicile of the Jew. 
 
 Mr. Bill Sikes no sooner heard the account of 
 the expedition delivered, than he very hastily 
 called up the white dog, and, putting on his hat, 
 expeditiously departed, without devoting any 
 time to the formality of wishing the company 
 good-morning. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 211 
 
 " We must know where he is, my dears ; 
 he must be found,"" said the Jew, greatly 
 excited. " Charley, do nothing but skulk 
 about, till you bring home some news of him. 
 Nancy, my dear, I must have him found : I 
 trust to you, my dear, — to you and the Artful 
 for everything. Stay, stay," added the Jew, 
 unlocking a drawer with a shaking hand ; 
 " there 's money, my dears. I shall shut up 
 this shop to-night : you 11 know where to find 
 me. Don't stop here a minute, — not an in- 
 stant, my dears ! " 
 
 With these words he pushed them from the 
 room, and carefully double-locking and barring 
 the door behind them, drew from its place of 
 concealment the box which he had unintention- 
 ally disclosed to Oliver, and hastily proceeded 
 to dispose the watches and jewellery beneath 
 his clothing. 
 
 A rap at the door startled him in this occu- 
 pation. " Who's there?" he cried in a shrill 
 tone of alarm. 
 
 " Me ! " replied the voice of the Dodger 
 through the key-hole. 
 
212 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " What now?'^ cried the Jew impatiently. 
 
 "Is he to be kidnapped to the other ken, 
 Nancy says ? " inquired the Dodger cautiously. 
 
 " Yes," replied the Jew, " wherever she lays 
 hands on him. Find him, find him out, that ""s 
 all. I shall know what to do next, never 
 fear.'' 
 
 The boy murmured a reply of intelligence, 
 and hurried down stairs after his companions. 
 
 " He has not peached so far," said the Jew 
 as he pursued his occupation. " If he means to 
 blab us among his new friends, we may stop his 
 windpipe yet." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 COMPRISING FURTHER PARTICULARS OF OLIVER's STAY AT 
 MR. BROWNLOW'S, WITH THE REMARKABLE PREDICTION 
 WHICH ONE MR. GRIMWIG UTTERED CONCERNING HIM, 
 WHEN HE WENT OUT ON AN ERRAND. 
 
 Oliver soon recovered from the fainting-fit 
 into which Mr. Brownlow's abrupt exclamation 
 had thrown him ; and the subject of the pictm*e 
 was carefully avoided, both by the old gentle- 
 man and Mrs. Bed win, in the conversation that 
 ensued, which indeed bore no reference to Oli- 
 ver's history or prospects, but was confined to 
 such topics as might amuse without exciting 
 him. He was still too weak to get up to 
 breakfast ; but, when he came down into the 
 housekeeper's room next day, his first act was 
 to cast an eager glance at the wall, in the hope 
 of again looking on the face of the beautiful 
 
214 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 lady. His expectations were disappointed, how- 
 ever, for the picture had been removed. 
 
 "Ah!" said the housekeeper, watching the- 
 direction of Ohver's eyes. " It is gone, you 
 see." 
 
 " I see it is, ma'am," rephed OHver, with a 
 sigh. '' Why have they taken it away ?" 
 
 " It has been taken down, child, because Mr. 
 Brownlow said, that, as it seemed to worry 
 you, perhaps it might prevent your getting 
 well, you know," rejoined the old lady. 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed it didn't worry me, ma'am," 
 said Oliver. " I liked to see it ; I quite 
 loved it." 
 
 , " Well, well !" said the old lady, good- 
 humouredly ; '' you get well as fa^t as ever you 
 can, dear, and it shall be hung up again. 
 There, I promise you that ; now let us talk 
 about something else." 
 
 This was all the information Oliver could 
 obtain about the picture at that time, and as 
 the old lady had been so kind to him in his 
 illness, he endeavoured to think no more of the 
 subject just then ; so listened attentively to a 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 215 
 
 great many stories she told him about an amia- 
 ble and handsome daughter of hers, who was 
 married to an amiable and handsome man, and 
 lived in the country ; and a son, who was clerk 
 to a merchant in the West Indies, and who 
 was also such a good young man, and wrote 
 such dutiful letters home four times a year, 
 that it brought the tears into her eyes to talk 
 about them. When the old lady had expati- 
 ated a long time on the excellences of her chil- 
 dren, and the merits of her kind good husband 
 besides, who had been dead and gone, poor 
 dear soul ! just six-and-twenty years, it was 
 time to have tea ; and after tea she began to 
 teach Oliver cribbage, which he learnt as quickly 
 as she could teach, and at which game they 
 played, with great interest and gravity, until it 
 was time for the invalid to have some warm 
 wine and water, with a slice of dry toast, and 
 to go cosily to bed. 
 
 They were happy days those of Oliver's reco- 
 very. Everything was so quiet, and neat, and 
 orderly : everybody so kind and gentle, that 
 after the noise and turbulence in the midst of 
 
S16 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 which he had always Hvecl, it seemed hke 
 heaven itself. He was no sooner strong enough 
 to put his clothes on properly, than Mr. Brown- 
 low caused a complete new suit, and a new cap, 
 and a new pair of shoes, to be provided for him. 
 As Oliver was told that he might do what he 
 liked with the old clothes, he gave them to a 
 servant who had been very kind to him, and 
 asked her to sell them to a Jew, and keep the 
 money for herself. This she very readily did ; 
 and, as Oliver looked out of the parlour win- 
 dow, and saw the Jew roll them up in his bag 
 and walk away, he felt quite delighted to think 
 that they were safely gone, and that there was 
 now no possible danger of his ever being able to 
 wear them again. They were sad rags, to tell 
 the truth ; and Oliver had never had a new suit 
 before. 
 
 One evening, about a week after the affair 
 of the pictvire, as he -v^-as sitting talking to 
 Mrs. Bedwin, there came a message down from 
 Mr. Brownlow, that if Oliver Twist felt pretty 
 well, he should like to see him in his study, and 
 talk to him a little while. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 217 
 
 '' Bless us, and save us ! wash your hands, 
 and let me part your hair nicely for you, child,*" 
 said Mrs. Bed win. '' Dear heart alive ! if we 
 had known he would have asked for you, we 
 would have put you a clean collar on, and made 
 you as smart as sixpence." 
 
 Oliver did as the old lady bade him, and, 
 although she lamented grievously meanwhile 
 that there was not even time to crimp the little 
 frill that bordered his shirt-collar, he looked so 
 delicate and handsome, despite that important 
 personal advantage, that she went so far as to 
 say, looking at him with great complacency 
 from head to foot, that she really didn't think 
 it would have been possible on the longest 
 notice to have made much difference in him for 
 the better. 
 
 Thus encouraged, Oliver tapped at the study 
 door, and, on Mr. Brownlow calling to him to 
 come in, found himself in a little back room 
 quite full of books, with a window looking into 
 some pleasant little gardens. There was a 
 table drawn up before the window, at which 
 Mr. Brownlow was seated reading. When he 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
S18 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 saw Oliver, he pushed the book away from him, 
 and told him to come near the table and sit 
 down. OHver complied, marvelling where the 
 people could be found to read such a great 
 number of books as seemed to be written to 
 make the world wiser, — which is still a marvel 
 to more experienced people than Oliver Twist 
 every day of their lives. 
 
 " There are a good many books, are there 
 not, my boy ?" said Mr. Brownlow, observing 
 the curiosity with which Oliver surveyed the 
 shelves that reached from the floor to the ceiling. 
 
 " A great number, sir," replied Oliver ; "I 
 never saw so many."*' 
 
 " You shall read them if you behave well," 
 said the old gentleman kindly ; " and you will 
 like that, better than looking at the outsides, — 
 that is, in some cases, because there are books 
 of which the backs and covers are by far the 
 best parts." 
 
 " I suppose they are those heavy ones, sir," 
 said Oliver, pointing to some large quartos with 
 a good deal of gilding about the binding. 
 
 "Not always those," said the old gentleman, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 219 
 
 patting Oliver on the head, and smiling as he did 
 so; "there are other equally heavy ones, though 
 of a much smaller size. How should you like to 
 grow up a clever man, and write books, eh ?" 
 
 " I think I would rather read them, sir,"*' 
 replied Oliver. 
 
 " What ! wouldn't you like to be a book- 
 writer ?" said the old gentleman. 
 
 Oliver considered a little while, and at last 
 said he should think it would be a much better 
 thing to be a bookseller ; upon which the old 
 gentleman laughed heartily, and declared he 
 had said a very good thing, which Oliver felt 
 glad to have done, though he by no means 
 knew what it was. 
 
 " Well, well," said the old gentleman, com- 
 posing his features, " don't be afraid ; we won't 
 make an author of you, while there 's an honest 
 trade to be learnt, or brick-making to turn to." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Oliver ; and at the 
 earnest manner of his reply the old gentleman 
 laughed again, and said something about a curi- 
 ous instinct, which Oliver, not understanding, 
 paid no very great attention to. 
 
 l2 
 
220 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Now,"'' said Mr. Brownlow, speaking if 
 possible in a kinder, but at the same time in a 
 much more serious manner than Ohver had ever 
 heard him speak in yet, " I want you to pay 
 great attention, my boy, to what I am going to 
 say. I shall talk to you without any reserve, 
 because I am sure you are as well able to un- 
 derstand me as many older persons would be.'' 
 
 " Oh, don't tell me you are going to send me 
 away, sir, pray !" exclaimed Oliver, alarmed by 
 the serious tone of the old gentleman's com- 
 mencement ! "don't turn me out of doors to 
 wander in the streets again. Let me stay here 
 and be a servant. Don't send me back to the 
 wretched place I came from. Have mercy 
 upon a poor boy, sir ; do ?" 
 
 " My dear child," said the old gentleman, 
 moved by the warmth of Oliver's sudden appeal, 
 " you need not be afraid of my deserting you, 
 unless you give me cause." 
 
 " I never, never will, sir," interposed Oliver. 
 
 " I hope not," rejoined the old gentleman ; 
 " I do not think you ever will. I have been 
 deceived before, in the objects whom I have 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 221 
 
 endeavoured to benefit ; but I feel strongly 
 disposed to trust you, nevertheless, and more 
 interested in your behalf than I can well 
 account for, even to myself. The persons on 
 whom I have bestowed my dearest love lie 
 deep in their graves ; but, although the happi- 
 ness and delight of my life lie buried there too, I 
 have not made a coffin of my heart, and sealed 
 i^ up for ever on my best affections. Deep 
 affliction has only made them stronger ; it ought, 
 I think, for it should refine our nature.'"* 
 
 As the old gentleman said this in a low voice, 
 more to himself than to his companion, and 
 remained silent for a short time afterwards, Oli- 
 ver sat quite still, almost afraid to breathe. 
 
 " Well, well," said the old gentleman at 
 length in a more cheerful tone, " I only say 
 this, because you have a young heart, and 
 knowing that I have suffered great pain and 
 sorrow, you will be more careful, perhaps, not 
 to wound me again. You say you are an 
 orphan, without a friend in the world ; all 
 the inquiries I have been able to make confirm 
 the statement. Let me hear your story ; where 
 
222 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 you came from, who brought you up, and how 
 you got into the company in which I found you. 
 Speak the truth ; and if I find you have com- 
 mitted no crime, you will never be friendless 
 while 1 live." 
 
 Oliver's sobs checked his utterance for some 
 minutes ; and when he was on the point of 
 beginning to relate how he had been brought 
 up at the farm, and carried to the workhouse 
 by Mr. Bumble, a pecuharly impatient little 
 double-knock was heard at the street-door, 
 and the servant, running up stairs, announced 
 Mr. Grimwig. 
 
 '^ Is he coming up ?" inquired Mr. Brownlow. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the servant. '' He asked 
 
 if there were any muffins in the house, and, 
 
 when 1 told him yes, he said he had come 
 
 to tea." 
 
 Mr. Brownlow smiled, and, turning to Oliver, 
 said Mr. Grimwig was an old friend of his, and 
 he must not mind his being a little rough in his 
 manners, for he was a worthy creature at bot- 
 tom, as he had reason to know. 
 
 " Shall I go down stairs, sir ?" inquired Oliver. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 223 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Brownlow ; " I would 
 rather jou stopped here."' 
 
 At this moment there walked into the room, 
 supporting himself by a thick stick, a stout old 
 gentleman, rather lame in one leg, who was 
 dressed in a blue coat, striped w^aistcoat, nan- 
 keen breeches and gaiters, and a broad-brim- 
 med white hat, with the sides turned up with 
 green. A very small-plaited shirt-frill stuck out 
 from his waistcoat, and a very long steel watch- 
 chain, with nothing but a key at the end, dan- 
 gled loosely below it. The ends of his white 
 neckerchief were twisted into a ball about the 
 size of an orange ; — the variety of shapes into 
 which his countenance was twisted defy descrip- 
 tion. He had a manner of screwing his head 
 round on one side when he spoke, and looking 
 out of the corners of his eyes at the same time, 
 which irresistibly reminded the beholder of a 
 parrot. In this attitude he fixed himself the 
 moment he made his appearance ; and, holding 
 out a small piece of orange-peel at arm's length, 
 exclaimed in a growling, discontented voice, 
 
 " Look here ! do you see this ? Isn't it a 
 
224 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 most wonderful and extraordinary thing that I 
 can't call at a man's house but I find a 
 piece of this poor-surgeon's-friend on the stair- 
 case ? I Ve been lamed with orange-peel once, 
 and I know orange-peel will be my death at 
 last. It will, sir ; orange-peel will be my 
 death, or I '11 be content to eat my own head, 
 sir !" This was the handsome offer with which 
 Mr. Grim wig backed and confirmed nearly every 
 assertion he made : and it was the more singu- 
 lar in his case, because, even admitting, for the 
 sake of argument, the possibility of scientific 
 improvements being ever brought to that pass 
 which will enable a gentleman to eat his own 
 head in the event of his being so disposed, Mr. 
 Grimwig's head was such a particularly large 
 one, that the most sanguine man alive could 
 hardly entertain a hope of being able to get 
 through it at a sitting — to put entirely out of 
 the question a very thick coating of powder. 
 
 " I '11 eat my head, sir," repeated Mr. Grim- 
 wig, striking his stick upon the gTound. " Hallo ! 
 what 's that ?" he added, looking at Oliver, and 
 retreating a pace or two. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 225 
 
 " This is young Oliver Twist, whom we were 
 speaking about," said Mr. BrownJow. 
 
 Oliver bowed. 
 
 " You don't mean to say that 's the boy that 
 had the fever, I hope ?" said Mr. Grimwig, 
 recoiling a little further. " Wait a minute, 
 don't speak : stop — " continued Mr. Grimwig 
 abruptly, losing all dread of the fever in his 
 triumph at the discovery ; *' that 's the boy that 
 had the orange ! If that 's not the boy, sir, 
 that had the orange, and threw this bit of peel 
 upon the staircase, I '11 eat my head and 
 his too." 
 
 "" No, no, he has not had one," said Mr. 
 Brownlow, laughing. " Come, put down your 
 hat, and speak to my young friend." 
 
 " I feel strongly on this subject, sir," said the 
 irritable old gentleman, drawing off his gloves. 
 " There 's always more or less orange-peel on 
 the pavement in our street, and I know it 's 
 put there by the surgeon's boy at the corner. 
 A young woman stumbled over a bit last night, 
 and fell against my garden-railings ; directly 
 she got up I saw her look towards his infernal 
 
 L 5 
 
'226 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 red lamp with the pantomime-light. ' Don't go 
 to him,' I called out of the window, ' he 's an 
 assassin, — a man-trap !' So he is. If he is 
 
 not *" Here the irascible old gentleman 
 
 gave a great knock on the ground wdth his 
 stick, 'which was always understood by his 
 friends to imply the customary oflfer whenever 
 it was not expressed in words. Then, still 
 keeping his stick in his hand, he sat down, and, 
 opening a double eye-glass which he wore 
 attached to a broad black riband, took a view 
 of Oliver, who, seeing that he was the object of 
 inspection, coloured, and bowed again. 
 
 " That 's the boy, is it ?" said Mr. Grim wig, 
 at length. 
 
 '* That is the boy," replied Mr. Brownlow, 
 noddino: Qood-humouredlv to Oliver. 
 
 " How are you, boy ?'' said Mv. Grimwig. 
 
 *' A great deal better, thank you, sir,"*' replied 
 Oliver. 
 
 Mr. Brownlow, seeming to apprehend that 
 his singular friend was about to say something 
 disagreeable, asked Oliver to step down stairs 
 and tell ^Irs. Bedwin tliev were readv for tea, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 227 
 
 which, as he did not half Hke the visitor's 
 manner, he was very happy to do. 
 
 " He is a nice-looking boy, is he not ? " 
 inquired Mr. Brownlow. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Grimwig, pettishly. 
 
 *' Don't know ?" 
 
 " No, I don't know. I never see any diiFer- 
 ence in boys. I only know two sorts of boys, 
 — mealy boys, and beef-faced boys." 
 
 " And which is Oliver !" 
 
 " Mealy. I know a friend who 's got a beef- 
 faced boy; a fine boy they call him, with a 
 round head, and red cheeks, and glaring eyes ; 
 a horrid boy, with a body and limbs that ap- 
 pear to be swelling out of the seams of his 
 blue clothes — with the voice of a pilot, and 
 the appetite of a wolf. I know him, the 
 wretch !" 
 
 " Come," said Mr. Brownlow, " these are not 
 the characteristics of young Oliver Twist ; so 
 he needn't excite your wrath." 
 
 " They are not," replied Grimwig, " He may 
 have worse." 
 
 Here Mr. Brownlow coughed impatiently, 
 
228 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 which appeared to afford Mr. Grimwig the most 
 exquisite delight. 
 
 " He may have worse, I say," repeated Mr. 
 Grimwig. " Where does he come from ? Who 
 is he ? What is he ? He has had a fever — 
 what of that ? Fevers are not peculiar to good 
 people, are they ? Bad people have fevers 
 sometimes, haven't they, eh ? I knew a man 
 that was hung in Jamaica for murdering his 
 master ; he had had a fever six times ; he 
 wasn't recommended to mercy on that account. 
 Pooh ! nonsense !" 
 
 Now, the fact was, that, in the inmost re- 
 cesses of his own heart, Mr. Grimwig was 
 strongly disposed to admit that Oliver's appear- 
 ance and manner were unusually prepossessing, 
 but he had a strong appetite for contradiction, 
 sharpened on this occasion by the finding of the 
 orange-peel ; and inwardly determining that no 
 man should dictate to him whether a boy was 
 well-looking or not, he had resolved from the 
 first to oppose his friend. When Mr. Brown- 
 low admitted that on no one point of inquiry 
 could he yet return a satisfactory answer, and 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 229 
 
 that he had postponed any investigation into 
 Oliver's previous history until he thought the 
 boy was strong enough to bear it, Mr. Grimwig 
 chuckled maliciously, and demanded, with a 
 sneer, whether the housekeeper was in the habit 
 of counting the plate at night ; because, if she 
 didn't find a table-spoon or two missing some 
 sunshiny morning, why, he would be content 
 to , et cetera. 
 
 All this, Mr. Brownlow, although himself 
 somewhat of an impetuous gentleman, knowing 
 his friend's peculiarities, bore with great good 
 humour ; as Mr. Grimwig, at tea, was gra- 
 ciously pleased to express his entire approval of 
 the muffins, matters went on very smoothly ; 
 and Oliver, who made one of the party, began 
 to feel more at his ease than he had yet done in 
 the fierce old gentleman's presence. 
 
 " And when are you going to hear a full, 
 true, and particular account of the life and 
 adventures of Oliver Twist ?" asked Grimwig 
 of Mr. Brownlow, at the conclusion of the meal : 
 looking sideways at Oliver as he resumed the 
 subject. 
 
S30 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " To-morrow morning," replied Mr. Brown- 
 low. " I would rather he was alone with me at 
 the time. Come up to me to-morrow morning 
 at ten o'clock, my dear." 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Oliver, He answered 
 with some hesitation, because he was confused 
 by Mr. Grimwig's looking so hard at him. 
 
 " 1 '11 tell you what," whispered that gentle- 
 man to Mr. Brownlow ; "he won't come up to 
 you to-morrow morning. I saw him hesitate. 
 He is deceiving you, my dear friend." 
 
 " I '11 swear he is not," replied Mr. Brown- 
 low, warmly, 
 
 "If he is not," said Mr. Grimwig, "I'll 
 " and down went the stick. 
 
 " I '11 answer for that boy's truth with my 
 life," said Mr. Brownlow, knocking the table. 
 
 " And I for his falsehood with my head," 
 rejoined Mr. Grimwig, knocking the table also. 
 
 " We shall see," said Mr. Brownlow, check- 
 ing his rising passion. 
 
 *' We will," replied Mr. Grimwig, witli a pro- 
 voking smile ; "we will." 
 
 As fate would have it, Mrs. Bedwin chanced 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 231 
 
 to bring in at this moment a small parcel of 
 books which Mr. Brownlow had that morning 
 pm-chased of the identical bookstall-keeper who 
 has already figured in this history ; which hav- 
 ing laid on the table, she prepared to leave the 
 room. 
 
 " Stop the boy, Mrs. Bedwin,'' said Mr. 
 Brownlow ; " there is something to go back." 
 
 " He has gone, sir,"" replied Mrs. Bedwin. 
 
 " Call after him," said Mr. Brownlow ; " it 's 
 particular. He is a poor man, and they are 
 not paid for. There are some books to be taken 
 back, too." 
 
 The street-door was opened. Oliver ran one 
 way, and the girl another, and Mrs. Bed- 
 win stood on the step and screamed for the 
 boy ; but there was no boy in sight, and both 
 Oliver and the girl returned in a breathless 
 state to report that there were no tidings of 
 him. 
 
 " Dear me, I am very sorry for that," ex- 
 claimed Mr. Brownlow ; " I particularly wished 
 those books to be returned to-night." 
 
 " Send Oliver with them," said Mr. Grim wig, 
 
2S2 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 with an ironical smile ; "he will be sure to 
 deliver them safely, you know."" 
 
 " Yes ; do let me take them, if you please, 
 sir," said Oliver ; " I '11 run all the way, 
 sir." 
 
 The old gentleman was just going to say that 
 Oliver should not go out on any account, when 
 a most malicious cough from Mr. Grimwig deter- 
 mined him that he should, and by his prompt 
 discharge of the commission prove to him the 
 injustice of his suspicions, on this head at least, 
 at once. 
 
 " You shall go, my dear," said the old gen- 
 tleman. " The books are on a chair by my 
 table. Fetch them down." 
 
 Oliver, delighted to be of use, brought down 
 the books under his arm in a great bustle, and 
 waited, cap in hand, to hear what message he 
 was to take. 
 
 " You are to say," said Mr. Brownlow, 
 glancing steadily at Grimwig,- — " you are to 
 say that you have brought those books back, 
 and that you have come to pay the four pound 
 ten I owe him. This is a five-pound note, so 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 you will have to bring me back ten shillings 
 change." 
 
 " I won't be ten minutes, sir,'' replied Oliver, 
 eagerly ; and, having buttoned up the bank-note 
 in his jacket pocket, and placed the books care- 
 fully under his arm, he made a respectful bow, 
 and left the room. Mrs. Bedwin followed him 
 to the street-door, giving him many directions 
 about the nearest way, and the name of the 
 bookseller, and the name of the street, all of 
 which Oliver said he clearly understood ; and, 
 having superadded many injunctions to be sure 
 and not take cold, the careful old lady at length 
 permitted him to depart. 
 
 " Bless his sweet face !" said the old lady, 
 looking after him. " I can't bear, somehow, to 
 let him go out of my sight." 
 
 At this moment, Oliver looked gaily round, 
 and nodded before he turned the corner. The 
 old lady smilingly returned his salutation, 
 and, closing the door, went back to her own 
 room. 
 
 " Let me see ; he '11 be back in twenty 
 minutes, at the longest," said Mr. Brownlow, 
 
234 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 pulling out his watch, and placing it on the 
 table. " It will be dark by that time." 
 
 " Oh ! you really expect him to come back, 
 do you ?^^ inquired Mr. Grimwig. 
 
 " Don't you ?" asked Mr. Brownlow, smiling. 
 
 The spirit of contradiction was strong in Mr. 
 Grimwig's breast at the moment, and it was 
 rendered stronger by his friend''s confident smile. 
 
 " No," he said, smiting the table with his 
 fist, " I do not. The boy has a new suit of 
 clothes on his back, a set of valuable books 
 under his arm, and a five-pound note in his 
 pocket ; he '11 join his old friends the thieves, 
 and laugh at you. If ever that boy returns to 
 this house, sir, I '11 eat my head." 
 
 With these words he drew his chair closer to 
 the table, and there the two friends sat in silent 
 expectation, with the watch between them. It 
 is worthy of remark, as illustrating the import- 
 ance we attach to our own judgments, and the 
 pride with which we put forth our most rash 
 and hasty conclusions, that, although Mr. Grim- 
 wig was not by any means a bad-hearted man, 
 and would have been unfeignedly sorry to see 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 235 
 
 his resjDected friend duped and deceived, he 
 really did most earnestly and strongly hope at 
 that moment that Oliver Twist might not come 
 back. Of such contradictions is human nature 
 made up ! 
 
 It grew so dark that the figures on the dial 
 were scarcely discernible ; but there the two 
 old gentlemen continued to sit in silence, with 
 the watch between them. 
 
2S6 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SHOWING HOW VERY FOND OF OLIVER TWIST, THE MERRY 
 OLD JEW AND MISS NANCY WERE. 
 
 In the obscure parlour of a low public-house, 
 situate in the filthiest part of Little SafFron-Hill, 
 — a dark and gloomy den, where a flaring gas- 
 light burnt all day in the winter-time, and where 
 no ray of sun ever shone in the summer, — there 
 sat, brooding over a little pewter measure and a 
 small glass, strongly impregnated with the smell 
 of liquor, a man in a velveteen coat, drab shorts, 
 half-boots, and stockings, whom, even by that 
 dim light, no experienced agent of police would 
 have hesitated for one instant to recognise as ^Ir. 
 William Sikes. At his feet sat a white-coated, 
 red-eyed dog, who occupied himself alternately 
 in winking at his master with both eyes at the 
 same time, and in licking a large, fresh cut on 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 287 
 
 one side of his mouth, which appeared to be the 
 result of some recent conflict. 
 
 " Keep quiet, you warmint ! keep quiet !"' 
 said Mr. Sikes, suddenly breaking silence. 
 Whether his meditations were so intense as to 
 be disturbed by the dog's winking, or whether 
 his feelings were so wrought upon by his reflec- 
 tions that they required all the relief derivable 
 from kicking an unoiFending animal to allay 
 them, is matter for argument and consideration. 
 Whatever was the cause, the effect was a kick 
 and a curse bestowed upon the dog simultane- 
 ously. 
 
 Dogs are not generally apt to revenge injuries 
 inflicted upon them by their masters ; but Mr. 
 Sikes\s dog, having faults of temper in common 
 with his owner, and labouring perhaps, at this 
 moment, under a powerful sense of injury, made 
 no more ado but at once fixed his teeth in one 
 of the half-boots, and, having given it a good 
 hearty shake, retired, growling, under a form ; 
 thereby just escaping the pewter measure which 
 Mr. Sikes levelled at his head. 
 
 " You would, would you?" said Sikes, seiz- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 iiig the poker in one hand, and dehberately 
 opening with the other a large clasp-knife, 
 which he drew from his pocket. " Come here, 
 you born devil ! Come here ! D'ye hear ? " 
 
 The dog no doubt heard, because Mr. Sikes 
 spoke in the very harshest key of a very harsh 
 voice ; but, appearing to entertain some unac- 
 countable objection to having his throat cut, he 
 remained where he was, and growled more 
 fiercely than before, at the same time grasping 
 the end of the poker between his teeth, and 
 biting at it like a wild beast. 
 
 This resistance only infuriated Mr. Sikes the 
 more ; who, dropping on his knees, began to 
 assail the animal most furiously. The dog 
 jumped from right to left, and from left to right, 
 snapping, growling, and barking ; the man 
 thrust and swore, and struck and blasphemed ; 
 and the struggle was reaching a most critical 
 point for one or other, when, the door suddenly 
 opening, the dog darted out, leaving Bill Sikes 
 with the poker and the clasp-knife in his hands. 
 
 There must always be two parties to a quar- 
 rel, says the old adage. Mr. Sikes, being 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 disappointed of the dog's presence, at once 
 transferred the quarrel to the new-comer. 
 
 " What the devil do you come in between 
 me and my dog for ? " said Sikes with a fierce 
 gesture. 
 
 " I didn't know, my dear, I didn't know," 
 replied Fagin humbly — for the Jew was the 
 new-comer. 
 
 " Didn't know, you white-livered thief!" 
 growled Sikes. " Couldn't you hear the noise ?" 
 " Not a sound of it, as I 'm a living man, 
 Bill," replied the Jew. 
 
 " Oh no, you hear nothing, you don't," 
 retorted Sikes with a fierce sneer, " sneaking in 
 and out, so as nobody hears how you come or 
 go. I wish you had been the dog, Fagin, half 
 a minute ago." 
 
 " AVhy?" inquired the Jew with a forced 
 smile. 
 
 " 'Cause the government, as cares for the 
 lives of such men as you, as haven't half the 
 pluck of curs, lets a man kill his dog how he 
 likes," replied Sikes, shutting up the knife with 
 a very expressive look ; '' that's why." 
 
240 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 The Jew rubbed his hands, and, sitting 
 down at the table, affected to laugh at the 
 pleasantry of his friend, — obviously very ill at 
 his ease, however. 
 
 " Grin away," said Sikes, replacing the 
 poker, and surveying him with savage con- 
 tempt ; " grin away. You '11 never have the 
 laugh at me, though, unless it 's behind a night- 
 cap. I Ve got the upper hand over you, 
 Fagin; and, d— me, I'll keep it. There. 
 If I go, you go ; so take care of me. ^ 
 
 " Well, well, my dear,'' said the Jew, " I 
 know all that ; we — we — have a mutual inte- 
 rest. Bill, — a mutual interest." 
 , " Humph," said Sikes, as if he thought the 
 interest lay rather more on the Jew's side than on 
 his. " Well, what have you got to say to me ?" 
 
 " It's all passed safe through the melting- 
 pot," replied Fagin, "• and this is your share. 
 It's rather more than it ought to be, my 
 dear ; but as I know you '11 do me a good turn 
 another time, and " 
 
 " 'Stow that gammon," interposed the robber 
 impatiently. " Where is it ? Hand over ! " 
 
OLIVER TWIST. S41 
 
 " Yes, yes. Bill; give me time, give me 
 time," replied the Jew soothingly. " Here it 
 is — all safe." As he spoke, he drew forth an 
 old cotton handkerchief from his breast, and 
 untying a large knot in one corner, produced a 
 small brown-paper packet, which Sikes snatch- 
 ing from him, hastily opened, and proceeded to 
 count the sovereigns it contained. 
 
 " This is all, is it ?" inquired Sikes. 
 
 " All," rephed the Jew. 
 
 " You haven't opened the parcel and swal- 
 lowed one or two as you come along, have 
 you.'*" inquired Sikes suspiciously. " Don't 
 put on a injured look at the question ; you 've 
 done it many a time. Jerk the tinkler." 
 
 These words, in plain English, conveyed an 
 injunction to ring the bell. It was answered 
 by another Jew, younger than Fagin, but near- 
 ly as vile and repulsive in appearance. 
 
 Bill Sikes merely pointed to the empty mea- 
 sure, and the Jew, perfectly understanding the 
 hint, retired to fill it, previously exchanging a 
 remarkable look with Fagin, who raised his 
 eyes for an instant, as if in expectation of it, 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
24<2 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 and shook his head in reply so slightly that the 
 action would have been almost imperceptible to 
 a third person. It was lost upon Sikes, who 
 was stooping at the moment to tie the boot-lace 
 which the dog had torn. Possibly if he had 
 observed the brief interchange of signals, he 
 might have thought that it boded no good to 
 him. 
 
 " Is anybody here, Barney.?" inquired Fagin, 
 speaking — now that Sikes was looking on — 
 without raising his eyes from the ground. 
 
 " Dot a shoul," replied Barney, whose words, 
 whether they came from the heart or not, made 
 their way through the nose. 
 
 '"• Nobody ? " inquired Fagin in a tone of sur- 
 prise, which perhaps might mean that Barney 
 was at liberty to tell the truth. 
 
 " Dobody but Biss Dadsy," replied Barney. 
 
 " Nancy ! " exclaimed Sikes. " Where ? 
 Strike me blind, if I donH honor that 'ere girl 
 for her native talents." 
 
 " She 's bid havid a plate of boiled beef id 
 the bar," replied Barney. 
 
 " Send her here," said Sikes, pouring out a 
 glass of liquor. " Send her here." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 243 
 
 Barney looked timidly at Fagin, as if for 
 permission ; the Jew remaining silent, and not 
 lifting his eyes from the ground, he retired, and 
 presently returned ushering in Nancy, who 
 was decorated with the bonnet, apron, basket, 
 and street-door key complete. 
 
 " You are on the scent, are you, Nancy?" 
 inquired Sikes, proffering the glass. 
 
 " Yes, I am. Bill," replied the young lady, 
 disposing of its contents ; '' and tired enough of 
 it I am, too. The young brat 's been ill and 
 confined to the crib ; and " 
 
 " Ah, Nancy, dear I " said Fagin, looking up. 
 
 Now, whether a peculiar contraction of the 
 Jew"'s red eye-brows, and a half-closing of his 
 deeply-set eyes, warned Miss Nancy that she 
 was disposed to be too communicative, is not a 
 matter of much importance. The fact is all we 
 need care for here ; and the fact is, that she 
 suddenly checked herself, and with several 
 gracious smiles upon Mr. Sikes, turned the con- 
 versation to other matters. In about ten mi- 
 nutes' time, Mr. Fagiu was seized with a 
 fit of coughing, upon which Nancy pulled her 
 
 M 2 
 
24>4} OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 shawl over her shoulders, and declared it was 
 time to go. Mr. Sikes, finding that he was 
 walking a short part of her way himself, ex- 
 pressed his intention of accompanying her, and 
 they went away together, followed at a little 
 distance by the dog, who slunk out of a back- 
 yard as soon as his master was out of sight. 
 
 The Jew thrust his head out of the room 
 door when Sikes had left it, looked after him 
 as he walked up the dark passage, shook his 
 clenched fist, muttered a deep curse, and then 
 with a horrible grin re-seated himself at the 
 table, where he was soon deeply absorbed in 
 the interesting pages of the Hue-and-Cry. 
 
 Meanwhile Oliver Twist, little dreaming that 
 he was within so very short a distance of the 
 merry old gentleman, was on his way to the 
 bookstall. When he got into Clerkenwell he 
 accidentally turned down a by-street which was 
 not exactly in his way ; but not discovering his 
 mistake till he had got halfway down it, and 
 knowing it must lead in the right direction, he 
 did not think it worth while to turn back, and 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 245 
 
 SO marched on as quickly as he could, with the 
 books under his arm. 
 
 He was walking along, thinking how happy 
 and contented he ought to feel, and how much 
 he would give for only one look at poor little 
 Dick, who, starved and beaten, might be weep- 
 ing bitterly at that very moment, when he was 
 startled by a young woman screaming out very 
 loud, " Oh, my dear brother ! " and he had 
 hardly looked up to see what the matter was, 
 when he was stopped by having a pair of arms 
 thrown tight round his neck. 
 
 "Don't!" cried Oliver, struggling. "Let 
 go of me. Who is it ? What are you stop- 
 ping me for ? " 
 
 The only reply to this, was a great number 
 of loud lamentations from the young woman 
 who had embraced him, and who had a little 
 basket and a street-door key in her hand. 
 
 " Oh my gracious ! " said the young woman, 
 " I Ve found him ! Oh, Oliver ! Oliver ! Oh, 
 you naughty boy, to make me suffer such dis- 
 tress on your account ! Come home, dear, 
 come. Oh, I've found him. Thank gracious 
 
2i6 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 goodness heavins, I Ve found him ! " With 
 these incoherent exclamations the young woman 
 burst into another fit of crying, and got so 
 dreadfully hysterical, that a couple of women 
 who came up at the moment asked a butcher's 
 boy with a shiny head of hair anointed with 
 suet, who was also looking on, whether he 
 didn't think he had better run for the doctor. 
 To which the butcher's boy, who appeared of a 
 lounging, not to say indolent disposition, replied 
 that he thought not. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, never mind," said the young wo- 
 man, grasping Oliver's hand ; " I 'm better now. 
 Come home directly, you cruel boy. Come." 
 
 "What's the matter, ma'am?" inquired 
 one of the women. 
 
 '* Oh, ma'am," replied the young woman, 
 " he ran away near a month ago from his pa- 
 rents, who are hard-working and respectable 
 people, and joined a set of thieves and bad cha- 
 racters, and almost broke his mother's heart." 
 
 " Young wretch !" said one woman. 
 
 "Go home, do, you little brute," said the 
 other. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 247 
 
 " Pm not," replied Oliver, greatly alarmed. 
 '« I don't know her. I haven't any sister, or 
 father and mother either. I'm an orphan; I 
 live at Pentonville." 
 
 " Oh, only hear him, how he braves it out !" 
 cried the yomig woman. 
 
 " Why, it 's Nancy ! " exclaimed Oliver, who 
 now saw her face for the first time, and started 
 back in irrepressible astonishment. 
 
 " You see he knows me," cried Nancy, 
 appealing to the by-standers. " He can't help 
 himself. Make him come home, there 's good 
 people, or he '11 kill his dear mother and father, 
 and break my heart ! " 
 
 ' " What the devil 's this ? " said a man, burst- 
 ing out of a beer- shop, with a white dog at his 
 jheels ; " young Oliver ! Come home to your 
 poor mother, you young dog ! come home di- 
 rectly." 
 
 " I don't belong to them. I don't know 
 them. Help ! help ! " cried Oliver, struggling 
 in the man's powerful grasp. 
 
 " Help!" repeated the man. " Yes; I'll 
 help you, you young rascal ! What books are 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 these ? You Ve been a-stealing 'em, have you ? 
 Give 'em here ! "" With these words the man 
 tore the volumes from his grasp, and struck him 
 violently on the head. 
 
 " That 's right ! " cried a looker-on, from a 
 garret-window. " That 's the only way of 
 bringing him to his senses ! " 
 
 "To be sure," cried a sleepy-faced carpen- 
 ter, casting an approving look at the garret- 
 window. 
 
 " It '11 do him good ! " said the two women. 
 
 "And he shall have it, too!" rejoined the 
 man, administering another blow, and seizing 
 Oliver by the collar. " Come on, you young 
 villain ! Here, Bull's-eye, mind him, boy ! 
 mind him ! " 
 
 Weak with recent illness, stupified by the 
 blows and the suddenness of the attack, terrified 
 by the fierce growling of the dog and the bru- 
 tality of the man, and overpowered by the con- 
 viction of the by-standers that he was really 
 the hardened little wretch he was described to 
 be, what could one poor child do ! Darkness had 
 set in; it was a low neighbourhood; no help 
 
■2Ae^ ^:^^^^:?2,^^^^ ;^^k/ .^;^S^^^^'^y%'^^:'2^ 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 249 
 
 was near ; resistance was useless. In another 
 moment he was dragged into a labyrinth of 
 dark narrow courts, and forced along them at 
 a pace which rendered the few cries he dared 
 to give utterance to, wholly unintelligible. It 
 was of little moment, indeed, whether they 
 were intelligible or not, for there was nobody 
 to care for them had they been ever so plain. 
 
 The gas-lamps were lighted; Mrs. Bedwin 
 was waiting anxiously at the open door ; the 
 servant had run up the street twenty times to 
 see if there were any traces of Oliver ; and still * 
 
 the two old gentlemen sat perseveringly in the 
 dark parlour, with the watch between them. i 
 
 M o 
 
250 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 RELATES WHAT BECAME OF OLIVER TWIST, AFTER HE 
 HAD BEEN CLAIMED BY NANCY. 
 
 The narrow streets and courts at length ter- 
 minated in a large open space, scattered about 
 which, were pens for beasts, and other indica- 
 tions of a cattle-market. Sikes slackened his 
 pace when they reached this spot, the girl being 
 quite unable to support any longer the rapid 
 rate at which they had hitherto walked. Turn- 
 ing to Oliver, he roughly commanded him to 
 take hold of Nancy's hand. 
 
 "Do you hear?" growled Sikes, as Oliver 
 hesitated, and looked round. 
 
 They were in a dark corner, quite out of the 
 track of passengers, and Oliver saw but too 
 plainly that resistance would be of no avail. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 251 
 
 He held out his hand, which Nancy clasped 
 tight in hers. 
 
 " Give me the other," said Sikes, seizing Oli- 
 ver's unoccupied hand. " Here, BulFs-eye !" 
 
 The dog looked up, and growled. 
 
 " See here, boy ! " said Sikes, putting his 
 other hand to Oliver's throat, and uttering a 
 savage oath ; " if he speaks ever so soft a word, 
 hold him! D'ye mind .? " 
 
 The dog growled again, and, licking his lips, 
 eyed Oliver as if he were anxious to attach him- 
 self to his windpipe without any unnecessary 
 delay. 
 
 " He 's as willing as a Christian, strike me 
 blind if he isn't ! " said Sikes, regarding the ani- 
 mal with a kind of grim and ferocious approval. 
 
 " Now, you know what you 've got to expect, 
 master, so call away as quick as you like ; the 
 dog will soon stop that game. Get on, young 
 'un!" 
 
 Bull's-eye wagged his tail in acknowledg- 
 ment of this unusually endearing form of speech, 
 and, giving vent to another admonitory growl 
 for the benefit of Oliver, led the way onward. 
 
252 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 It was Smithfield that they were crossing, 
 although it might have been Grosvenor Square, 
 for anything OHver knew to the contrary. The 
 night was dark and foggy. The hghts in the 
 shops could scarcely struggle through the heavy 
 mist, which thickened every moment and shroud- 
 ed the streets and houses in gloom, rendering the 
 strange place still stranger in Oliver's eyes, 
 and making* his uncertainty the more dismal and 
 depressing. 
 
 They had hurried on a few paces, when a 
 deep church-bell struck the hour. With its 
 first stroke his two conductors stopped, and 
 turned their heads in the direction whence the 
 sound proceeded. 
 
 " Eight o'clock. Bill," said Nancy, when the 
 bell ceased. 
 
 " What 's the good of telling me that ; I can 
 hear it, can 't I ? '' replied Sikes. 
 
 " I wonder whether they can hear it," said 
 Nancy. 
 
 " Of course they can," replied Sikes. " It 
 was Bartlemy time when I .was shopped, and 
 there warn't a penny trumpet in the fair as I 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 25S 
 
 couldn't hear the squeaking on. Arter I was 
 locked up for the night, the row and din outside 
 made the thundering old jail so silent, that I 
 could almost have beat my head out against 
 the iron plates of the door." 
 
 " Poor fellows !" said Nancy, who still had 
 her face turned towards the quarter in which 
 the bell had sounded. " Oh, Bill, such fine 
 young chaps as them ! " 
 
 " Yes ; that ""s all you women think of," an- 
 swered Sikes. " Fine young chaps ! Well, 
 they're as good as dead, so it don't much 
 matter." 
 
 With this consolation Mr. Sikes appeared to 
 repress a rising tendency to jealousy, and, clasp- 
 ing Oliver's wrist more firmly, told him to step 
 out again. 
 
 " Wait a minute," said the girl : " I wouldn't 
 hurry by, if it was you that was coming out to 
 be hung the next time eight o'clock struck, Bill. 
 I 'd walk round and round the place till I drop- 
 ped, if the snow was on the ground, and I hadn't 
 a shawl to cover me." 
 
 " And what good would that do ?" inquired 
 
254 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 the unsentimental Mr. Sikes. " Unless you 
 could pitch over a file and twenty yards of 
 good stout rope, you might as well be walking 
 fifty mile oif, or not walking at all, for all the 
 good it would do me. Come on, will you, and 
 don't stand preaching there."" 
 
 The girl burst into a laugh, drew her shawl 
 more closely round her, and they walked away. 
 But Oliver felt her hand tremble ; and, looking 
 up in her face as they passed a gas-lamp, saw 
 that it had turned a deadly white. 
 
 They walked on, by little-frequented and 
 dirty ways, for a full half-hour, meeting very 
 few people, and those they did meet, appearing 
 from their looks to hold much the same position 
 in society as Mr. Sikes himself. At length they 
 turned into a very filthy narrow street, nearly full 
 of old-clothes shops ; the dog, running forward 
 as if conscious that there was no further occasion 
 for his keeping on guard, stopped before the 
 door of a shop which was closed and apparently 
 untenanted, for the house was in a ruinous con- 
 dition, and upon the door was nailed a board 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 255 
 
 intimating that it was to let, which looked as if 
 it had hung there for many years. 
 
 " All right," said Sikes, glancing cautiously 
 about. 
 
 Nancy stooped below the shutters, and Oliver 
 heard the sound of a bell. They crossed to the 
 opposite side of the street, and stood for a few 
 moments under a lamp. A noise, as if a sash- 
 window were gently raised, was heard, and soon 
 afterwards the door softly opened ; upon which 
 Mr. Sikes seized the terrified boy by the collar 
 with very little ceremony, and all three were 
 quickly inside the house. 
 
 The passage was perfectly dark, and they 
 waited while the person who had let them in 
 chained and barred the door. 
 
 " Anybody here.'^" inquired Sikes. 
 
 " No," replied a voice, which Oliver thought 
 he had heard before. 
 
 '^ Is the old 'un here ?'''' asked the robber. 
 
 " Yes," replied the voice ; " and precious 
 down in the mouth he has been. Won't he be 
 glad to see you ? Oh, no ! " 
 
 The style of this reply, as well as the voice 
 
^56 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 which dehvered it, seemed familiar to Oliver's 
 ears ; but it was impossible to distinguish even 
 the form of the speaker in the darkness. 
 
 "Let's have a glim,"" said Sikes, "or we 
 shall go breaking our necks, or treading on the 
 dog. Look after your legs if you do, that's 
 all." 
 
 " Stand still a moment, and I '11 get you 
 one," replied the voice. The receding footsteps 
 of the speaker were heard, and in another 
 minute the form of Mr. John Dawkins, other- 
 wise the artful Dodger, appeared, bearing in his 
 right hand a tallow candle stuck in the end of a 
 cleft stick. 
 
 The young gentleman did not stop to bestow 
 any other mark of recognition upon Oliver than 
 a humorous grin ; but, turning away, beckoned 
 the visiters to follow him down a flight of stairs. 
 They crossed an empty kitchen, and, opening 
 the door of a low earthy-smelling room, which 
 seemed to have been built in a small back-yard 
 were received with a shout of laughter. 
 
 "Oh, my wig, my wig!" cried Master 
 Charles Bates, from whose lungs the laughter 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 257 
 
 had proceeded ; " here he is ! — oh, cry, here he 
 is ! Oh, Fagin, look at him ; Fagin, do look at 
 him ! I can't bear it ; it is such a jolly game, 
 I can't bear it. Hold me, somebody, while I 
 laugh it out." 
 
 With this irrepressible ebullition of mirth, 
 Master Bates laid himself flat on the floor, and 
 kicked convulsively for five minutes in an ecsta- 
 sy of facetious joy. Then, jumping to his feet, 
 he snatched the cleft stick from the Dodger, 
 and, advancing to Oliver, viewed him round 
 and round, while the Jew, taking off his night- 
 cap, made a great number of low bows to 
 the bewildered boy ; the Artful meantime, who 
 was of a rather saturnine disposition, and sel- 
 dom gave way to merriment when it interfered 
 with business, rifling his pockets with steady 
 assiduity. 
 
 " Look at his togs, Fagin ! " said Charley, 
 putting the light so close to Oliver's new jacket 
 as nearly to set him on fire. " Look at his 
 togs ! — superfine cloth, and the heavy-swell 
 cut ! Oh, my eye, what a game ! And his 
 books, too ; — nothing but a gentleman, Fagin !" 
 
258 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Delighted to see you looking so well, my 
 dear," said the Jew, bowing with mock humi- 
 lity. '* The Artful shall give you another suit, 
 my dear, for fear you should spoil that Sunday 
 one. Why didn"'t you write, my dear, and 
 say you were coming ? — we 'd have got some- 
 thing warm for supper."" 
 
 At this, Master Bates roared again : so loud 
 that Fagin himself relaxed, and even the Dod- 
 ger smiled ^ but as the Artful drew forth the 
 five-pound note at that instant, it is doubtful 
 whether the sally or the discovery awakened his 
 merriment. 
 
 " Hallo! what's that?" inquired Sikes, 
 stepping forward as the Jew seized the note. 
 " That's mine, Fagin." 
 
 " No, no, my dear," said the Jew. " Mine, 
 Bill, mine. You shall have the books." 
 
 " If that ain't mine ! " said Sikes, putting on 
 his hat with a determined air, — " mine and 
 Nancy^'s, that is, — I '11 take the boy back 
 
 The Jew started, and Oliver started too, 
 though from a very different cause, for he hoped 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ^59 
 
 that the dispute might really end in his being 
 taken back. 
 
 " Come, hand over, will you?" said Sikes. 
 
 " This is hardly fair, Bill ; hardly fair, is it, 
 Nancy ?" inquired the Jew. 
 
 " Fair, or not fair," retorted Sikes, " hand it 
 over, I tell you ! Do you think Nancy and 
 me has got nothing else to do with our precious 
 time but to spend it in scouting arter and 
 kidnapping every young boy as gets grabbed 
 through you ? Give it here, you avaricious old 
 skeleton ; give it here ! " 
 
 With this gentle remonstrance, Mr. Sikes 
 plucked the note from between the Jew''s finger 
 and thumb ; and, looking the old man coolly in 
 the face, folded it up small, and tied it in his 
 neckerchief. 
 
 " That 's for our share of the trouble," said 
 Sikes ; " and not half enough, neither. You 
 may keep the books, if you 're fond of reading, 
 and if not, you can sell 'em." 
 
 " They 're very pretty," said Charley Bates, 
 who with sundry grimaces had been affecting to 
 read one of the volumes in question ; " beautiful 
 
260 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 writing, isn't it, Oliver?" and at sight of the 
 dismayed look with which Oliver regarded his 
 tormentors, Master Bates, who was blessed with 
 a lively sense of the ludicrous, fell into another 
 ecstasy more boisterous than the first. 
 
 " They belong to the old gentleman," said 
 Oliver, wringing his hands, — "to the good 
 kind old gentleman who took me into his house, 
 and had me nursed when I was near d3dng of 
 the fever. Oh, pray send them back; send 
 him back the books and money. Keep me 
 here all my life long ; but pray, pray send them 
 back. He'll think I stole them; — the old 
 lady, all of them that were so kind to me, will 
 think I stole them. Oh, do have mercy upon 
 me, and send them back ! " 
 
 With these words, which were uttered with 
 all the energy of passionate grief, Oliver fell 
 upon his knees at the Jew's feet, and beat his 
 hands together in perfect desperation. 
 
 " The boy's right," remarked Fagin, looking 
 covertly round, and knitting his shaggy eye- 
 brows into a hard knot. " You 're right, Oli- 
 ver, you 're right ; they will think you have 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 261 
 
 stolen 'em. Ha ! ha !" chuckled the Jew, rub- 
 bing his hands ; "it couldn't have happened 
 better if we had chosen our time ! " 
 
 '' Of course it couldn't," replied Sikes; *' I 
 know'd that, directly I see him coming through 
 Clerkenwell with the books under his arm. It 's 
 all right enough. They're soft-hearted psalm- 
 singers, or they wouldn't have taken him in at 
 all, and they '11 ask no questions arter him, fear 
 they should be obhged to prosecute, and so get 
 him lagged. He 's safe enough." 
 
 Oliver had looked from one to the other 
 while these words were being spoken, as if he 
 were bewildered, and could scarcely understand 
 what passed; but when Bill Sikes concluded, 
 he jumped suddenly to his feet, and tore wildly 
 from the room, uttering shrieks for help which 
 made the bare old house echo to the roof. 
 
 " Keep back the dog, Bill ! " cried Nancy, 
 springing before the door, and closing it as the 
 Jew and his two pupils darted out in pursuit ; 
 ' keep back the dog ; he '11 tear the boy to 
 'pieces." 
 
 " Serve him right ! " cried Sikes, struggling 
 
262 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 to disengage himself from the giiTs grasp. 
 " Stand off from me, or I '11 split your skull 
 against the wall."" 
 
 '' I don't care for that, Bill ; I don't care for 
 that," screamed the girl, struggling violently 
 with the man : " the child shan't be torn down 
 by the dog, unless you kill me first." 
 
 " Shan't he ! " said Sikes, setting his teeth 
 fiercely. '' I'll soon do that, if you don't 
 keep off." 
 
 The housebreaker flung the girl from him to 
 the further end of the room, just as the Jew 
 and the two boys returned, dragging Oliver 
 among them. 
 
 " What's the matter here.^" said the Jew, 
 looking round. 
 
 " The girl 's gone mad, I think," replied 
 Sikes savagely. 
 
 " No, she hasn't," said Nancy, pale and 
 breathless from the scuffle ; "no, she hasn't, 
 Fagin : don't think it." 
 
 " Then keep quiet, will you ? " said the Jew 
 with a threatening look. 
 
 " No, I won't do that neither," replied Nancy, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 263 
 
 speaking very loud. " Come, what do you 
 think of that?" 
 
 Mr. Fagin was sufficiently well acquainted 
 with the manners and customs of that particu- 
 lar species of humanity to which Nancy be- 
 longed, to feel tolerably certain that it would be 
 rather unsafe to prolong any conversation with 
 her at present. With the view of diverting the 
 attention of the company, he turned to Oliver. 
 
 " So you wanted to get away, my dear, did 
 you?" said the Jew, taking up a jagged and 
 knotted club which lay in a corner of the fire- 
 place ; " eh?" 
 
 Oliver made no reply, but he watched the 
 Jew''s motions and breathed quickly. 
 
 " Wanted to get assistance, — called for the 
 police, did you ? " sneered the Jew, catching the 
 boy by the arm. " We '11 cure you of that, 
 my young master." 
 
 The Jew inflicted a smart blow on Oliver's 
 shoulders with the club, and was raising it for a 
 second, when the girl, rushing forward, wrested 
 it from his hand, and flung it into the fire with 
 a force that brought some of the glowing coals 
 whirling out into the room. 
 
S64 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " I won't stand by and see it done, Fagin,'' 
 cried the girl. " YouVe got the boy, and 
 what more would you have ? Let him be — let 
 him be, or I shall put that mark on some of 
 you, that will bring me to the gallows before 
 my time." 
 
 The girl stamped her foot violently on the 
 floor as she vented this threat ; and with her 
 lips compressed, and her hands clenched, looked 
 alternately at the Jew and the other robber — 
 her face quite colourless from the passion of 
 rage into which she had gradually worked 
 herself. 
 
 " Why, Nancy ! "" said the Jew in a soothing 
 tone, after a pause, during which he and Mr. 
 Sikes had stared at one another in a disconcert- 
 ed manner, " you — you 're more clever than 
 ever to-night. Ha ! ha ! my dear, you are act- 
 ing beautifully." 
 
 « Am I r said the girl. " Take care I don't 
 overdo it : you will be the worse for it, Fagin, 
 if I do ; and so I tell you in good time to keep 
 clear of me." 
 
 There is something about a roused woman, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ^65 
 
 especially if she add to all her other strong 
 passions the fierce impulses of recklessness and 
 despair, which few men like to provoke. The 
 Jew saw that it would be hopeless to affect any 
 further mistake regarding the reality of Miss 
 Nancy's rage ; and, shrinking involuntarily 
 back a few paces, cast a glance, half-imploring 
 and half-cowardly, at Sikes, as if to hint that 
 he was the fittest person to pursue the dialogue. 
 
 Mr. Sikes thus mutely appealed to, and pos- 
 sibly feeling his personal pride and influence 
 interested in the immediate reduction of Miss 
 Nancy to reason, gave utterance to about a 
 couple of score of curses and threats, the rapid 
 production of which reflected great credit on the 
 fertility of his invention. As they produced 
 no visible effect on the object against whom 
 they were discharged, however, he resorted to 
 more tangible arguments. 
 
 " What do you mean by this ? "' said Sikes, 
 backing the inquiry with a very common impre- 
 cation concerning the most beautiful of human 
 features, which, if it were heard above, only 
 once out of every fifty thousand times it is 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 uttered below, would render blindness as com- 
 mon a disorder as measles; " what do you 
 mean by it ? Burn my body ! — do you know 
 who you are, and what you are ? "*' 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know all about it,^"* replied the 
 girl, laughing hysterically, and shaking her head 
 from side to side with a poor assumption of 
 indifference. 
 
 " Well, then, keep quiet,"" rejoined Sikes 
 with a growl like that he was accustomed to 
 use when addressing his dog, " or I '11 quiet you 
 for a good long time to come."' 
 
 The girl laughed again, even less comjiosedly 
 than before, and, darting a hasty look at Sikes, 
 turned her face aside, and bit her lip till the 
 blood came. 
 
 '' You^re a nice one," added Sikes, as he 
 surveyed her with a contemptuous air, *' to 
 take up the humane and genteel side ! A 
 pretty subject for the child, as you call him, to 
 make a friend of ! " 
 
 " God Almighty help me, I am!" cried the 
 girl passionately ; " and I wish I had been 
 struck dead in the street, or changed places 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ^67 
 
 with tliem we passed so near to-night, before I 
 had lent a hand in bringing him here. He 's a 
 thief, a Kar, a devil, all that 's bad from this 
 night forth. Isn't that enough for the old 
 wretch without blows ? '" 
 
 " Come, come, Sikes," said the Jew, appeal- 
 ing to him in a remonstratory tone, and motion- 
 ing towards the boys, who were eagerly atten- 
 tive to all that passed ; " we must have civil 
 words. — civil words, Bill." 
 
 " Civil words !" cried the girl, whose passion 
 was frightful to see. '^ Civil words, you villain ! 
 Yes ; you deserve 'em from me. I thieved for 
 you when I was a child not half as old as this 
 (pointing to Oliver). I have been in the same 
 trade, and in the same service, for twelve years 
 since. Don't you know it ? Speak out ! — don't 
 you know it ? " 
 
 " Well, well," replied the Jew, with an 
 attempt at pacification ; '' and, if you have, it 's 
 your living ! " 
 
 " Aye, it is !" returned the girl : not speaking, 
 but pouring out the words in one continuous 
 and vehement scream. " It is my living, and 
 
 N 2 
 
268 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 the cold, wet, dirty streets are my home ; and 
 you 're the wretch that drove me to them long 
 ago, and that '11 keep me there day and night, 
 day and night, till I die ! " 
 
 " I shall do you a mischief!" interposed the 
 Jew, goaded by these reproaches ; " a mischief 
 worse than that, if you say much more ! " 
 
 The girl said nothing more ; but, tearing her 
 hair and dress in a transport of phrensy, made 
 such a rush at the Jew as would probably have 
 left signal marks of her revenge upon him, had 
 not her wrists been seized by Sikes at the right 
 moment ; upon which she made a few ineffec- 
 tual struggles, and fainted. 
 
 " She's all right now," said Sikes, laying her 
 down in a corner. " She's uncommon strong 
 in the arms when she 's up in this way." 
 
 The Jew wiped his forehead, and smiled, as 
 if it were a relief to have the disturbance over ; 
 but neither he, nor Sikes, nor the dog, nor the 
 boys, seemed to consider it in any other light 
 than a common occurrence incidental to busi- 
 ness. 
 
 " It's the worst of having to do with wo- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 men," said the Jew, replacing the club ; *' but 
 they 're clever, and we can't get on in our line 
 without 'em. — Charley, show Oliver to bed." 
 
 " I suppose he 'd better not wear his best 
 clothes to-morrow, Fagin, had he?" inquired 
 Charley Bates. 
 
 " Certainly not," replied the Jew, reciprocat- 
 ing the grin with which Charley put the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 Master Bates, apparently much delighted 
 with his commission, took the cleft stick, and 
 led Oliver into an adjacent kitchen, where there 
 were two or three of the beds on which he had 
 slept before ; and here, with many uncontrolla- 
 ble bursts of laughter, he produced the identical 
 old suit of clothes which Oliver had so much 
 congratulated himself upon leaving off at Mr. 
 Brownlow's, and the accidental display of which 
 to Fagin by the Jew who purchased them, 
 had been the very first clue received of his 
 whereabout. 
 
 " Pull off the smart ones," said Charley, 
 " and I '11 give 'em to Fagin to take care of. 
 What fun it is!" 
 
S70 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 Poor Oliver unwillingly complied ; and Mas- 
 ter Bates, rolling up the new clothes under his 
 arm, departed from the room, leaving Oliver in 
 the dark, and locking the door behind him. 
 
 The noise of Charley's laughter, and the voice 
 of Miss Betsy, who opportunely arrived to 
 throw water over her friend, and perform other 
 feminine offices for the promotion of her reco- 
 very, might have kept many people awake 
 under more happy circumstances than those in 
 which Oliver was placed ; but he was sick and 
 weary, and soon fell sound asleep. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Oliver's destiny continuing unpropitious, brings a 
 great man to london to injure his reputation. 
 
 It is the custom on the stage in all good, 
 murderous melodramas, to present the tragic 
 and the comic scenes in as regular alternation 
 as the layers of red and white in a side of 
 streaky, well-cured bacon. The hero sinks 
 upon his straw bed, weighed down by fetters 
 and misfortunes ; and, in the next scene, his 
 faithful but unconscious squire regales the au- 
 dience with a comic song. We behold with 
 throbbing bosoms the heroine in the grasp of a 
 proud and ruthless baron, her virtue and her 
 life alike in danger, drawing forth her dagger 
 to preserve the one at the cost of the other ; 
 and, just as our expectations are wrought up 
 to the highest pitch, a whistle is heard, and we 
 
272 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 are straightway transported to the great hall of 
 the castle, where a grey-headed seneschal sings 
 a funny chorus with a funnier body of vassals, 
 who are free of all sorts of places from church 
 vaults to palaces, and roam about in company 
 carolling perpetually. 
 
 Such changes appear absurd ; but they are 
 not so unnatural as they would seem at first 
 sight. The transitions in real life from well- 
 spread boards to death-beds, and from mourn- 
 ing weeds to holiday garments, are not a whit 
 less startling, only there we are busy actors 
 instead of passive lookers-on, which makes a 
 vast difference. The actors in the mimic life 
 of the theatre are blind to violent transitions 
 and abrupt impulses of passion or feeling, which, 
 presented before the eyes of mere spectators, 
 are at once condemned as outrageous and pre- 
 posterous. 
 
 As sudden shiftings of the scene, and rapid 
 changes of time and place, are not only sanc- 
 tioned in books by long usage, but are by many 
 considered as the great art of authorship, — an 
 author's skill in his craft being by such critics 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 273 
 
 chiefly estimated with relation to the dilemmas 
 in which he leaves his characters at the end of 
 every chapter, — this brief introduction to the 
 present one may perhaps be deemed unneces- 
 sary. If so, let it be considered a delicate 
 intimation on the part of the historian that he 
 is going back directly to the town in which 
 Oliver Twist was born ; the reader taking it 
 for granted that there are good and substantial 
 reasons for making the journey, or he would not 
 be invited to proceed upon such an expedition 
 on any account. 
 
 Mr. Bumble emerged at early morning from 
 the workhouse gate, and walked, with portly 
 carriage and commanding steps, up the High- 
 street. He was in the full bloom and pride 
 of beadleism; his cocked hat and coat were 
 dazzling in the morning sun, and he clutched 
 his cane with the vigorous tenacity of health 
 and power. Mr. Bumble always carried his 
 head high, but this morning it was higher than 
 usual ; there was an abstraction in his eye, and 
 an elevation in his air, which might have warn- 
 ed an observant stranger that thoughts were 
 
 n5 
 
274 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 passing in the beadle's mind, too great for utter- 
 ance. 
 
 Mr. Bumble stopped not to converse with the 
 small shop-keepers and others who spoke to 
 him deferentially as he passed along. He mere- 
 ly returned their salutations with a wave of his 
 hand, and relaxed not in his dignified pace until 
 he reached the farm where Mrs. Mann tended 
 the infant paupers with a parish care. 
 
 '■' Drat that beadle ! " said Mrs. Mann, hear- 
 ing the well-known impatient shaking at the 
 garden gate. " If it isn*'t him at this time in 
 the morning ! — Lauk, Mr. Bumble, only think 
 of its being you ! Well, dear me, it is a plea- 
 sure this is ! Come into the parlour, sir, 
 please." 
 
 The first sentence was addressed to Susan, 
 and the exclamations of delight were spoken to 
 Mr. Bumble as the good lady unlocked the gar- 
 den gate, and showed him with great attention 
 and respect into the house. 
 
 " Mrs. Mann,'' said Mr. Bumble, — not sitting 
 upon, or dropping himself into a seat, as any 
 common jackanapes would, but letting himself 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 275 
 
 gradually and slowly down into a chair, — 
 " Mrs. Mann, ma'am, good morning ! "" 
 
 " Well, and good morning to you, sir,'' re- 
 plied Mrs. Mann, with many smiles ; '' and 
 hoping you find yourself well, sir ? " 
 
 " So-so, Mrs. Mann," replied the beadle. 
 " A porochial life is not a bed of roses, Mrs. 
 Mann." 
 
 " Ah, that it isn't indeed, Mr. Bumble," 
 rejoined the lady. And all the infant paupers 
 might have chorused the rejoinder with great 
 propriety if they had heard it. 
 
 *' A porochial life, ma'am," continued Mr. 
 Bumble, striking the table with his cane, " is 
 a life of worry, and vexation, and hardihood ; 
 but all public characters, as I may say, must 
 suffer prosecution." 
 
 Mrs. Mann, not very well knowing what the 
 beadle meant, raised her hands with a look of 
 sympathy, and sighed. 
 
 "Ah! You may well sigh, Mrs. Mann!" 
 said the beadle. 
 
 Finding she had done right, Mrs. Mann 
 sighed again, evidently to the satisfaction of 
 
276 OLIVER TWIST, 
 
 the public character, who, repressing a compla- 
 cent smile by looking sternly at his cocked hat, 
 said, 
 
 " Mrs. Mann, I am a-going to London." 
 "Lank, Mr. Bumble!'' said Mrs. Mann, 
 starting back. 
 
 "To London, ma'am," resumed the inflexible 
 beadle, " by coach ; I and two paupers, Mrs. 
 Mann. A legal action is coming on about a 
 settlement, and the board has appointed me — 
 me, Mrs. Mann — to depose to the matter before 
 the quarter-sessions at Clerkinwell ; and I very 
 much question," added Mr. Bumble, drawing 
 himself up, " whether the Clerkinwell Sessions 
 will not find themselves in the wrong box before 
 they have done with me." 
 
 " Oh ! you mustn't be too hard upon them, 
 sir," said Mrs. Mann coaxingly. 
 
 " The Clerkinwell Sessions have brought it 
 upon themselves, ma'am," replied Mr. Bumble ; 
 " and if the Clerkinwell Sessions find that they 
 come off rather worse than they expected, the 
 Clerkinwell Sessions have only themselves to 
 thank." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 217 
 
 There was so much determination and depth 
 of purpose about the menacing manner in which 
 Mr. Bumble deHvered himself of these words, 
 that Mrs. Mann appeared quite awed by them. 
 At length she said, 
 
 " You''re going by coach, sir? I thought it 
 was always usual to send them paupers in 
 carts." 
 
 "That's when they're ill, Mrs. Mann," 
 said the beadle. " We put the sick paupers 
 into open carts in the rainy weather, to prevent 
 their taking cold." 
 
 « Oh ! " said Mrs. Mann. 
 
 " The opposition coach contracts for these 
 two, and takes them cheap," said Mr. Bumble. 
 " They are both in a very low state, and we 
 find it would come two pound cheaper to move 
 'em than to bury 'em, — that is, if we can throw 
 'em upon another parish, which I think we 
 shall be able to do, if they don't die upon the 
 road to spite us. Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 When Mr. Bumble had laughed a little 
 while, his eyes again encountered the cocked 
 hat, and he became grave. 
 
^78 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " We are forgetting business, ma'am," said 
 the beadle ; — " here is your porochial stipend 
 for the month." 
 
 Wherewith Mr. Bumble produced some 
 silver money, rolled up in paper, from his 
 pocket-book, and requested a receipt, which 
 Mrs. Mann wrote. 
 
 " It's very much blotted, sir," said the 
 farmer of infants ; " but it 's formal enough, I 
 dare say. Thank you, Mr. Bumble, sir ; I am 
 very much obliged to you, I 'm sure." 
 
 Mr. Bumble nodded blandly in acknowledg- 
 ment of Mrs. Mann's curtsey, and inquired how 
 the children w^ere. 
 
 /' Bless their dear httle hearts!" said Mrs. 
 Mann with emotion, " they 're as well as can 
 be, the dears ! Of course, except the two that 
 died last week, and little Dick." 
 
 " Isn't that boy no better.^" inquired Mr. 
 Bumble. ^Irs. Mann shook her head. 
 
 " He 's a ill-conditioned, vicious, bad-disposed 
 porochial child that," said JNIr. Bumble angrily. 
 " Where is he?" 
 
 " I '11 bring him to you in one minute, sir," 
 replied Mrs. Mann. " Here, you Dick !" 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ^9 
 
 After some calling, Dick was discovered ; and 
 having had his face put under the pump, and 
 dried upon Mrs. Mann's gown, he was led into 
 the awful presence of Mr. Bumble, the beadle. 
 
 The child was pale and thin ; his cheeks 
 were sunken, and his eyes large and bright. 
 The scanty parish dress, the livery of his mi- 
 sery, hung loosely upon his feeble body ; and 
 his young limbs had wasted away like those of 
 an old man. 
 
 Such was the little being who stood trembhng 
 beneath Mr. Bumble's glance, not daring to lift 
 his eyes from the floor, and dreading even to 
 hear the beadle's voice. 
 
 " Can't you look at the gentleman, you obsti- 
 nate boy?" said Mrs. Mann. 
 
 The child meekly raised his eyes, and en- 
 countered those of Mr. Bumble. 
 
 " What's the matter with you, porochial 
 Dick?" inquired Mr. Bumble with well-timed 
 jocularity. 
 
 '' Nothing, sir," replied the child faintly. 
 
 " I should think not," said Mrs. Mann, who 
 had of course laughed very much at Mr. Bum- 
 
^80 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 ble's exquisite humour. " You want for no- 
 thing, I 'm sure.'' 
 
 " I should like—" faltered the child. 
 "Hey-day!" interposed Mrs. Mann, "I 
 suppose you Ve going to say that you do want 
 for something, now ? Why, you little wretch 
 
 " Stop, Mrs. Mann, stop ! " said the beadle, 
 raising his hand with a show of authority. 
 " Like what, sir; eh.?" 
 
 " I should like," faltered the child, " if some- 
 body that can write, would put a few words 
 down for me on a piece of paper, and fold it up, 
 and seal it, and keep it for me after I am laid 
 in the ground." 
 
 " Why, what does the boy mean ?" exclaim- 
 ed Mr. Bumble, on whom the earnest manner 
 and wan aspect of the child had made some 
 impression, accustomed as he was to such things. 
 " What do you mean, sir?" 
 
 " I should like," said the child, " to leave my 
 dear love to poor Oliver Twist, and to let him 
 know how often I have sat by myself and cried 
 to think of his wandering about in the dark 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 281 
 
 nights with nobody to help him ; and I should 
 like to tell him," said the child, pressing his 
 small hands together, and speaking with great 
 fervour, " that I was glad to die when I was very 
 young ; for, perhaps, if I lived to be a man, and 
 grew old, my little sister, who is in heaven, 
 might forget me, or be unlike me ; and it would 
 be so much happier if we were both children 
 there together." 
 
 Mr. Bumble surveyed the little speaker from 
 head to foot with indescribable astonishment? 
 and, turning to his companion, said, " They 're 
 all in one story, Mrs. Mann. That out-dacious 
 Oliver has demoralized them all !" 
 
 " I couldn't have believed it, sir !" said Mrs. 
 Mann, holding up her hands, and looking ma- 
 lignantly at Dick. " I never see such a hard- 
 ened little wretch ! " 
 
 " Take him away, ma'am ! " said Mr. Bum- 
 ble imperiously. " This must be stated to the 
 board, Mrs. Mann." 
 
 " I hope the gentlemen will understand that 
 it isn't my fault, sir.^" said Mrs. Mann, whim- 
 pering pathetically. 
 
282 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " They shall understand that, ma'am ; they 
 shall be acquainted with the true state of the 
 case," said Mr. Bumble pompously. " There ; 
 take him away. I can't bear the sight of 
 him.'' 
 
 Dick was immediately taken away, and lock- 
 ed up in the coal-cellar ; and Mr. Bumble shortly 
 afterwards took himself off to prepare for his 
 journey. 
 
 At six o'clock next morning, Mr. Bumble 
 having exchanged his cocked hat for a round 
 one, and encased his person in a blue great-coat 
 with a cape to it, took his place on the outside 
 of the coach, accompanied by the criminals 
 whose settlement was disputed, with whom, 
 in due course of time, he arrived in London, 
 having experienced no other crosses by the way 
 than those which originated in the perverse 
 behaviour of the two paupers, who persisted in 
 shivering, and complaining of the cold in a 
 manner which, Mr. Bumble declared, caused 
 his teeth to chatter in his head, and made him 
 feel quite uncomfortable, although he had a 
 great- coat on. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 283 
 
 Having disposed of these evil-minded persons 
 for the night, Mr. Bumble sat himself down in 
 the house at which the coach stopped, and 
 took a temperate dinner of steaks, oyster-sauce, 
 and porter. Putting a glass of hot gin-and- water 
 on the mantel-piece, he drew his chair to the 
 fire, and, with sundry moral reflections on the 
 too-prevalent sin of discontent and complaining, 
 he then composed himself comfortably to read 
 the paper. 
 
 The very first paragraph upon which Mr. 
 Bumble's eyes rested, was the following adver- 
 tisement. 
 
 " FIVE GUINEAS REWARD. 
 
 '' Whereas a young boy, named Oliver 
 Twist, absconded, or was enticed, on Thursday 
 evening last, from his home at Pentonville, and 
 has not since been heard of; the above reward 
 will be paid to any person who will give such 
 information as may lead to the discovery of the 
 said Oliver Twist, or tend to throw any light 
 upon his previous history, in which the adver- 
 tiser is for many reasons warmly interested."'' 
 
 And then followed a full description of Oli- 
 
284 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 ver's dress, person, appearance, and disappear- 
 ance, with the name and address of Mr. Brown- 
 low at full length. 
 
 Mr. Bumble opened his eyes, read the ad- 
 vertisement slowly and carefully three several 
 times, and in something more than five minutes 
 was on his way to Pentonville, having actually 
 in his excitement left the glass of hot gin-and- 
 water untasted on the mantel-piece. 
 
 " Is Mr. Brownlow at home?" inquired Mr. 
 Bumble of the girl who opened the door. 
 
 To this inquiry the girl returned the not 
 uncommon, but rather evasive reply of, " I 
 don't know — where do you come from ? " 
 
 Mr. Bumble no sooner uttered 01iver*'s name 
 in explanation of his errand, than Mrs. Bed- 
 win, who had been listening at the parlour- 
 door, hastened into the passage in a breathless 
 state. 
 
 " Come in — come in," said the old lady : " I 
 knew we should hear of him. Poor dear! I 
 knew we should, — I was certain of it. Bless 
 his heart ! I said so all along." 
 
 Having said this, the worthy old lady hurried 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 2S5 
 
 back into the parlour again, and, seating her- 
 self on a sofa, burst into tears. The girl, who 
 was not quite so susceptible, had run up-stairs 
 meanwhile, and now returned with a request 
 that Mr. Bumble would follow her immediately, 
 which he did. 
 
 He was shown into the little back study, 
 where sat Mr. Brownlow and his friend Mr. 
 Grimwig, with decanters and glasses before 
 them. The latter gentleman eyed him closely, 
 and at once burst into the exclamation, 
 
 '' A beadle — a parish beadle, or 1 11 eat my 
 head!" 
 
 " Pray don't interrupt just now," said Mr. 
 Brownlow. " Take a seat, will you ?" 
 
 Mr. Bumble sat himself down, quite con- 
 founded by the oddity of ^Ir. Grimwig''s man- 
 ner. Mr. Brownlow moved the lamp so as to 
 obtain an uninterrupted view of the beadle's 
 countenance, and said with a little impatience, 
 
 '' Now, sir, you come in consequence of 
 having seen the advertisement ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Mr. Bumble. 
 
286 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 "And you are a beadle, are you not?" in- 
 quired Mr. Grimwig. 
 
 " I am a porochial beadle, gentlemen," re- 
 joined Mr. Bumble proudly. 
 
 " Of course," observed Mr. Grimwig aside 
 to his friend. '' I knew he was. His great- 
 coat is a parochial cut, and he looks a beadle all 
 over." 
 
 Mr. Brownlow gently shook his head to im- 
 pose silence on his friend, and resumed : 
 
 " Do you know where this poor boy is 
 now ? " 
 
 " No more than nobody," replied Mr. Bumble. 
 
 " Well, what do you know of him ?" inquired 
 the old gentleman. " Speak out, my friend, 
 if you have anything to say. What do you 
 know of him ? " 
 
 *' You don't happen to know any good of 
 him, do you ? " said Mr. Grimwig caustically, 
 after an attentive perusal of Mr. Bumble's 
 features. 
 
 Mr. Bumble caught at the inquiry very 
 quickly, and shook his head with portentous 
 solemnity. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 287 
 
 " You see this?" said Mr. Grim wig, looking 
 triumphantly at Mr. Brownlow. 
 
 Mr. Brownlow looked apprehensively at 
 Bumble's pursed-up countenance, and request- 
 ed him to communicate what he knew re- 
 garding Oliver, in as few words as possible. 
 
 Mr. Bumble put down his hat, unbuttoned 
 his coat, folded his arms, inclined his head in a 
 retrospective manner, and, after a few moments'* 
 reflection, commenced his story. 
 
 It would be tedious if given in the beadle's 
 words, occupying as it did some twenty minutes 
 in the telling ; but the sum and substance of it 
 was, that Oliver was a foundling, born of low 
 and vicious parents, who had from his birth 
 displayed no better qualities than treachery, 
 ingratitude, and malice, and who had termi- 
 nated his brief career in the place of his birth, 
 by making a sanguinary and cowardly attack 
 on an unoffending lad, and running away 
 in the night-time from his master's house. In 
 proof of his really being the person he repre- 
 sented himself, Mr. Bumble laid upon the table 
 the papers he had brought to town, and, folding 
 
^88 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 his arms again, awaited Mr. Brownlow's obser- 
 vations. 
 
 " I fear it is all too true,'"' said the old gentle- 
 man sorrowfully, after looking over the papers. 
 " This is not much for your intelligence ; but I 
 would gladly have given you treble the money, 
 if it had been favourable to the boy." 
 
 It is not at all improbable that if Mr. Bum- 
 ble had been possessed with this information at 
 an earlier period of the interview, he might 
 have imparted a very different colouring to his 
 little history. It was too late to do it now, 
 however; so he shook his head gravely, and, 
 pocketing the five guineas, withdrew. 
 
 Mr. Brownlow paced the room to and fro for 
 some minutes, evidently so much disturbed by 
 the beadle's tale, that even Mr. Grimwig for- 
 bore to vex him further. At length he stopped, 
 and rang the bell violently. 
 
 " Mrs. Bedwin," said Mr. Brownlow when 
 the housekeeper appeared, " that boy, Oliver, 
 is an impostor." 
 
 " It can't be, sir ; it cannot be,"' said the old 
 lady energetically. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 289 
 
 " I tell you he is,"" retorted the old gentle- 
 man sharply. " What do you mean by ' can't 
 be ' ? We have just heard a full account of 
 him from his birth, and he has been a thorough- 
 paced little villain all his life." 
 
 ** I never will believe it, sir," replied the old 
 lady, firmly. 
 
 " You old women never believe anything but 
 quack-doctors and lying story-books," growled 
 Mr. Grim wig. " I knew it all along. Why 
 didn't you take my advice in the beginning ; 
 you would if he hadn't had a fever, I suppose, 
 — eh ? He was interesting, wasn't he ? Inte- 
 resting ! Bah !" and Mr. Grimwig poked the 
 fire with a flourish. 
 
 " He was a dear, grateful, gentle child, sir," 
 retorted Mrs. Bed win indignantly. " I know 
 what children are, sir, and have done these forty 
 years; and people who can't say the same 
 shouldn't say anything about them — that 's my 
 opinion." 
 
 This was a hard hit at ^Ir. Grimwig, who 
 was a bachelor; but as it extorted nothing 
 from that gentleman but a smile, the old lady 
 
 VOL, I. O 
 
290 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 tossed her head and smoothed down her apron 
 preparatory to another speech, when she was 
 stopped by Mr. Brownlow. 
 
 " Silence ! " said the old gentleman, feigning 
 an anger he was far from feeling. " Never let 
 me hear the boy's name again : I rang to tell 
 you that. Never — never, on any pretence, 
 mind. You may leave the room, Mrs. Bed- 
 win. Remember ; I am in earnest." 
 
 There were sad hearts at Mr. Brownlow's 
 that night. Oliver's sunk within him when he 
 thought of his good kind friends ; but it was 
 well for him that he could not know what they 
 had heard, or it would have broken outright. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 29l 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW OLIVER PASSED HIS TIME IN THE IMPROVING SO- 
 CIETY OF IITS REPUTABLE FRIENDS. 
 
 About noon next day, when the Dodger and 
 Master Bates had gone out to pursue their cus- 
 tomary avocations, Mr. Fagin took the oppor- 
 tunity of reading OUver a long lecture on the 
 crying sin of ingratitude, of which he clearly 
 demonstrated he had been guilty to no ordinary 
 extent in wilfully absenting himself from the 
 society of his anxious friends, and still more 
 in endeavouring to escape from them after so 
 much trouble and expense had been incurred in 
 his recovery. Mr. Fagin laid great stress on 
 the fact of his having taken Oliver in and che- 
 rished him, when without his timely aid he 
 
 o2 
 
!292 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 might have perished with hunger ; and related 
 the dismal and affecting history of a young lad 
 whom in his philanthropy he had succoured 
 under parallel circumstances, but who, proving 
 unworthy of his confidence, and evincing a desire 
 to communicate with the police, had unfortu- 
 nately come to be hung at the Old Bailey one 
 morning. Mr. Fagin did not seek to conceal 
 his share in the catastrophe, but lamented with 
 tears in his eyes that the wrong-headed and 
 treacherous behaviour of the young person in 
 question had rendered it necessary that he 
 should become the victim of certain evidence 
 for the crown, which, if it were not precisely 
 true, was indispensably necessary for the safety 
 of him (Mr. Fagin), and a few select friends. 
 Mr. Fagin concluded by drawing a rather dis- 
 agreeable picture of the discomforts of hanging, 
 and, with great friendliness and politeness of 
 manner, expressed his anxious hope that he 
 might never be obliged to submit Oliver Twist 
 to that unpleasant operation. 
 
 Little Oliver's blood ran cold as he listened 
 to the Jew's words, and imperfectly compre- 
 
OLIVER TWIST. ^V3 
 
 hended the dark threats conveyed in them. 
 That it was possible even for justice itself to 
 confound the innocent with the guilty when 
 they were in accidental companionship, he knew 
 already ; and that deeply-laid plans for the 
 destruction of inconveniently-knowing, or over- 
 communicative persons, had been really devised 
 and carried out by the old Jew on more occa- 
 sions than one, he thought by no means unlikely 
 when he recollected the general nature of the 
 altercations between that gentleman and Mr. 
 Sikes, which seemed to bear reference to some 
 foregone conspiracy of the kind. As he glanced 
 timidly up, and met the Jew*'s searching look, 
 he felt that his pale face and trembling limbs 
 were neither unnoticed, nor unrelished, by the 
 wary villain. 
 
 The Jew smiled hideously, and, patting Oli- 
 ver on the head, said that if he kept himself 
 quiet, and applied himself to business, he saw 
 they would be very good friends yet. Then 
 taking his hat, and covering himself up in an 
 old patched great-coat, he went out and locked 
 the room-door behind him. 
 
294 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 And so Oliver remained all that day, and for 
 the greater part of many subsequent days, see- 
 ing nobody between early morning and mid- 
 night, and left during the long hours to com- 
 mune with his own thoughts ; which never 
 failing to revert to his kind friends, and the 
 opinion they must long ago have formed of 
 him, were sad indeed. After the lapse of a 
 week or so, the Jew left the room-door un- 
 locked, and he was at liberty to wander about 
 the house. 
 
 It was a very dirty place ; but the rooms up 
 stairs had great high wooden mantel-pieces and 
 large doors, with paneled walls and cornices to 
 the ceilings, which, although they were black 
 with neglect and dust, were ornamented in 
 various ways ; from all of which tokens Oliver 
 concluded that a long time ago, before the old 
 Jew was born, it had belonged to better people, 
 and had perhaps been quite gay and handsome, 
 dismal and dreary as it looked now. 
 
 Spiders had built their webs in the angles of 
 the walls and ceilings ; and sometimes, when 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 295 
 
 Oliver walked softly into a room, the mice 
 would scamper across the floor, and run back 
 terrified to their holes. With these exceptions, 
 there was neither sight nor sound of any living 
 thing; and often, when it grew dark, and he 
 was tired of wandering from room to room, he 
 would crouch in the corner of the passage by 
 the street-door, to be as near living people as 
 he could, and remain there listening and count- 
 ing the hours until the Jew or the boys re- 
 turned. 
 
 In all the rooms the mouldering shutters 
 were fast closed, and the bars which held them 
 were screwed tight into the wood ; the only 
 light which was admitted making its way 
 through round holes at the top, which made 
 the rooms more gloomy, and filled them with 
 strange shadows. There was a back-garret 
 window, with rusty bars outside, which had no 
 shutter, and out of which Oliver often gazed 
 with a melancholy face for hours together ; but 
 nothing was to be descried from it but a con- 
 fused and crowded mass of house-tops, blacken- 
 
296 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 ed chimneys, and gable-ends. Sometimes, in- 
 deed, a ragged grizzly head might be seen 
 peering over the parapet- wall of a distant house, 
 but it was quickly withdrawn again ; and as the 
 window of Oliver's observatory was nailed down, 
 and dimmed with the rain and smoke of years, 
 it was as much as he could do to make out the 
 forms of the different objects beyond, without 
 making any attempt to be seen or heard, — 
 which he had as much chance of being as if he 
 had been inside the ball of St. PauFs Cathedral. 
 
 One afternoon, the Dodger and Master Bates 
 being engaged out that evening, the first-named 
 young gentleman took it into his head to evince 
 some anxiety regarding the decoration of his 
 person (which, to do him justice, was by no 
 means an habitual weakness with him ; ) and, 
 with this end and aim, he condescendingly com- 
 manded Oliver to assist him in his toilet 
 straightway. 
 
 Oliver was but too glad to make himself 
 useful ; too happy to have some faces, however 
 bad, to look upon, and too desirous to conciliate 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 'i97 
 
 those about him when he could honestly do so, 
 to throw any objection in the way of this pro- 
 posal ; so he at once expressed his readiness, 
 and, kneeling on the floor, while the Dodger sat 
 upon the table so that he could take his foot in 
 his lap, he applied himself to a process which 
 Mr. Dawkins designated as "japanning his 
 trotter-cases," and which phrase, rendered into 
 plain English, signifieth cleaning his boots. 
 
 Whether it was the sense of freedom and 
 independence which a rational animal may be 
 supposed to feel when he sits on a table in an 
 easy attitude, smoking a pipe, swinging one leg 
 carelessly to and fro, and having his boots 
 cleaned all the time, without even the past 
 trouble of having taken them off, or the pro- 
 spective misery of putting them on, to disturb 
 his reflections ; or whether it was the goodness 
 of the tobacco that soothed the feelings of the 
 Dodger, or the mildness of the beer that molli- 
 fied his thoughts, he was evidently tinctured 
 for the nonce with a spice of romance and en- 
 thusiasm foreign to his general nature. He 
 
 o 5 
 
298 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 looked clown on Oliver with a thoughtful coun- 
 tenance for a brief space, and then, raising his 
 head, and heaving a gentle sigh, said, half in 
 abstraction, and half to Master Bates, 
 
 " What a pity it is he isn't a prig I"' 
 
 "Ah!" said Master Charles Bates; "he 
 don't know what 's good for him." 
 
 The Dodger sighed again, and resumed his 
 pipe, as did Charley Bates. They both smoked 
 for some seconds in silence. 
 
 " I suppose you don't even know what a 
 prig is ? " said the Dodger mournfully. 
 
 " I think I know that," replied Oliver, hastily 
 looking up. " It 's a th — ; you 're one, are 
 you not?" inquired Oliver, checking himself. 
 
 " I am," repHed the Dodger. " I 'd scorn to 
 be any think else." Mr. Dawkins gave his hat 
 a ferocious cock after delivering this sentiment, 
 and looked at Master Bates as if to denote that 
 he would feel obliged by his saying anything 
 to the contrary. " I am," repeated the Dod- 
 ger ; " so 's Charley, so 's Fagin, so 's Sikes, 
 so's Nancy, so's Bet, so we all are, down 
 
OLIVER TWIST. S99 
 
 to the dog, and he 's the downiest one of the 
 lot." 
 
 " And the least given to peaching," added 
 Charley Bates. 
 
 " He wouldn't so much as bark in a witness- 
 box for fear of committing himself; no, not if 
 you tied him up in one, and left him there with- 
 out wittles for a fortnight," said the Dodger. 
 
 " That he wouldn't ; not a bit of it," observ- 
 ed Charley. 
 
 " He 's a rum dog. Don't he look fierce at 
 any strange cove that laughs or sings when he 's 
 in company ! " pursued the Dodger. " Won't 
 he growl at all, when he hears a fiddle playing, 
 and don't he hate other dogs as ain't of his 
 breed!— Oh, no!" 
 
 " He 's an out-and-out Christian," said Char- 
 ley. 
 
 This was merely intended as a tribute to the 
 animal's abilities, but it was an appropriate 
 remark in another sense, if Master Bates had 
 only known it; for there are a great many 
 ladies and gentlemen claiming to be out-and- 
 
300 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 out Christians, between whom and Mr. Sikes's 
 dog there exist very strong and singular points 
 of resemblance. 
 
 " Well, well,'' said the Dodger, recurring 
 to the point from which they had strayed, 
 with that mindfulness of his profession which 
 influenced all his proceedings. " This hasn't 
 got anything to do with young Green here." 
 
 " No more it has," said Charley. " Why 
 don't you put yourself under Fagin, Oliver?" 
 
 " And make your fortun' out of hand ? " 
 added the Dodger, with a grin. 
 
 " And so be able to retire on your property, 
 and do the gen-teel, as I mean to in the very 
 next leap-year but four that ever comes, and 
 the forty-second Tuesday in Trinity-week," 
 said Charley Bates. 
 
 " I don't like it," rejoined Oliver timidly; 
 " I wish they would let me go. I — I — would 
 rather go." 
 
 " And Fagin would rather not ! " rejoined 
 Charley. 
 
 Oliver knew this too well ; but, thinking it 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 301 
 
 might be dangerous to express his feelings more 
 openly, he only sighed, and went on with his 
 boot- cleaning. 
 
 " Go !" exclaimed the Dodger. " Why, 
 where 's your spirit ? Don't you take any pride 
 out of yourself? Would you go and be de- 
 pendent on your friends, eh ? " 
 
 " Oh, blow that ! " said Master Bates, draw- 
 ing two or three silk handkerchiefs from his 
 pocket, and tossing them into a cupboard, 
 " that's too mean, that is." 
 
 " / couldn't do it," said the Dodger, with an 
 air of haughty disgust. 
 
 " You can leave your friends, though," said 
 Oliver with a half-smile, "and let them be 
 punished for what you did." 
 
 " That," rejoined the Dodger, with a wave 
 of his pipe, — " that was all out of consideration 
 for Fagin, 'cause the traps know that we work 
 together, and he might have got into trouble if 
 we hadn't made our lucky ; that was the move, 
 wasn't it, Charley ? " 
 
 Master Bates nodded assent, and would have 
 
302 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 spoken, but that the recollection of Oliver's 
 flight came so suddenly upon him, that the 
 smoke he was inhaling got entangled with a 
 laugh, and went up into his head, and down 
 into his throat, and brought on a fit of coughing 
 and stamping about five minutes long. 
 
 " Look here,"' said the Dodger, drawing 
 forth a handful of shillings and halfpence. 
 " Here's a jolly life! — what's the odds where 
 it comes from ? Here, catch hold ; there 's 
 plenty more where they were took from. You 
 won't, won't you ? — Oh, you precious flat ! " 
 
 " It's naughty, ain't it, Oliver?" inquired 
 Charley Bates. " He'll come to be scragged, 
 won't he.?" 
 
 " I don't know what that means," replied 
 Oliver, looking round. 
 
 " Something in this way, old feller," said 
 Charley. As he said it, Master Bates caught 
 up an end of his neckerchief, and, holding it 
 erect in the air, dropped his head on his shoul- 
 der, and jerked a curious sound through his 
 teeth, thereby indicating, by a lively pantomi- 
 
y/^£^i^.^Mz^^ ecp4^.^>^2J ^/^^^^^^/2^/^ ^#<^^^^^5^^^^ 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 303 
 
 mic representation, that scragging and hanging 
 were one and the same thing. 
 
 " That's what it means,'' said Charley. 
 *' Look how he stares. Jack. I never did 
 see such prime company as that 'ere boy ; 
 he'll be the death of me, I know he will." 
 And Master Charles Bates, having laughed 
 heartily again, resumed his pipe with tears in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " YouVe been brought up bad," said the 
 Dodger, surveying his boots with much sa- 
 tisfaction when Oliver had polished them. 
 " Fagin will make something of you, though, 
 or you '11 be the first he ever had that turned 
 out unprofitable. You'd better begin at 
 once, for you'll come to the trade long be- 
 fore you think of it, and you're only losing 
 time, Oliver." 
 
 Master Bates backed this advice with sun- 
 dry moral admonitions of his own, which being 
 exhausted, he and his friend Mr. Dawkins 
 launched into a glowing description of the nu- 
 merous pleasures incidental to the life they led, 
 
304 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 interspersed with a variety of hints to Oliver 
 that the best thing he could do, would be to 
 secure Fagin's favour without more delay by 
 the same means which they had employed to 
 gain it. 
 
 " And always put this in your pipe, Nolly," 
 said the Dodger, as the Jew was heard unlock- 
 ing the door above, " if you don^t take fogies 
 and tickers " 
 
 " What's the good of talking in that way?'"' 
 interposed Master Bates : "he don't know 
 what you mean." 
 
 " If you don't take pocket-hankechers and 
 watches," said the Dodger, reducing his conver- 
 sation to the level of Oliver's capacity, " some 
 other cove will ; so that the coves that lose 'em 
 will be all the worse, and you'll be all the 
 worse too, and nobody half a ha'p'orth the bet- 
 ter, except the chaps wot gets them — and 
 you've just as good a right to them as they 
 have." 
 
 " To be sure, — to be sure!" said the Jew, 
 who had entered unseen by Oliver. " It all 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 305 
 
 lies in a nutshell, my dear — in a nutshell, take 
 the Dodger's word for it. Ha ! ha ! — he under- 
 stands the catechism of his trade/"' 
 
 The old man rubbed his hands gleefully toge- 
 ther as he corroborated the Dodger's reasoning 
 in these terms, and chuckled with delight at 
 his pupil's proficiency. 
 
 The conversation proceeded no farther at 
 this time, for the Jew had returned home ac- 
 companied by Miss Betsy, and a gentleman 
 whom Oliver had never seen before, but who 
 was accosted by the Dodger as Tom Chitling, 
 and who, having lingered on the stairs to ex- 
 change a few gallantries with the lady, now 
 made his appearance. 
 
 Mr. Chitling was older in years than the 
 Dodger, having perhaps numbered eighteen 
 winters ; but there was a degree of deference 
 in his deportment towards that young gentle- 
 man which seemed to indicate that he felt him- 
 self conscious of a slight inferiority in point of 
 genius and professional acquirements. He had 
 small twinkling eyes, and a pock-marked face ; 
 
306 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 wore a fur cap, a dark corduroy jacket, greasy 
 fustian trousers, and an apron. His wardrobe 
 was, in truth, rather out of repair ; but he ex- 
 cused himself to the company by stating that 
 his " time" was only out an hour before, and 
 that, in consequence of having worn the regi- 
 mentals for six weeks past, he had not been 
 able to bestow any attention on his private 
 clothes. Mr. Chithng added, with strong 
 marks of irritation, that the new way of fumi- 
 gating clothes up yonder was infernal uncon- 
 stitutional, for it burnt holes in them, and there 
 was no remedy against the county ; the same 
 remark he considered to apply to the regulation 
 mode of cutting the hair, which he held to be 
 decidedly unlawful. Mr. Chitling wound up 
 his observations by stating that he had not 
 touched a drop of anything for forty- two mortal 
 long hard-working days, and that he " wished 
 he might be busted if he wasn't as dry as a 
 lime-basket." 
 
 " Where do you think the gentleman has 
 come from, Oliver?" inquired the Jew with a 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 307 
 
 grin, as the other boys put a bottle of spirits on 
 the table. 
 
 " I — I — don't know, sir," replied Oliver. 
 
 "Who's that?" inquired Tom Chitling, 
 casting a contemptuous look at Oliver. 
 
 " A young friend of mine, my dear," re- 
 plied the Jew. 
 
 " He 's in luck then,'' said the young man, 
 with a meaning look at Fagin. " Never mind 
 where I came from, young 'un ; you '11 find 
 your way there soon enough, I '11 bet a 
 crown !" 
 
 At this sally the boys laughed, and, after 
 some more jokes on the same subject, exchang- 
 ed a few short whispers with Fagin, and with- 
 drew. 
 
 After some words apart between the last 
 comer and Fagin, they drew their chairs to- 
 wards the fire ; and the Jew, telling Oliver to 
 come and sit by him, led the conversation to 
 the topics most calculated to interest his hearers. 
 These were, the great advantages of the trade, 
 the proficiency of the Dodger, the amiability of 
 
308 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 Charley Bates, and the liberahty of the Jew 
 himself. At length these subjects displayed 
 signs of being thoroughly exhausted, and Mr. 
 Chitling did the same (for the house of correc- 
 tion becomes fatiguing after a week or two) ; 
 Miss Betsy accordingly withdrew, and left the 
 party to their repose. 
 
 From this day Oliver was seldom left alone, 
 but was placed in almost constant communi- 
 cation with the two boys, who played the 
 old game with the Jew every day, — whether 
 for their own improvement or Oliver's, Mr. 
 Fagin best knew. At other times the old 
 man would tell them stories of robberies he 
 had committed in his younger days, mixed 
 up with so much that was droll and curious, 
 that Oliver could not help laughing heartily, 
 and showing that he was amused in spite of 
 all his better feelings. 
 
 In short, the wily old Jew had the boy in 
 his toils ; and, having prepared his mind, by 
 solitude and gloom, to prefer any society to the 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 309 
 
 companionship of his own sad thoughts in such 
 a dreary place, was now slowly instilling into 
 his soul the poison which he hoped would black- 
 en it and change its hue for ever. 
 
310 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN WHICH A NOTABLE PLAN IS DISCUSSED AND 
 DETERMINED ON. 
 
 It was a chill, damp, windy night, when the 
 Jew, buttoning his great-coat tight round his 
 shrivelled body, and pulling the collar up over 
 his ears so as completely to obscure the lower 
 part of his face, emerged from his den. He 
 paused on the step as the door was locked and 
 chained behind him ; and having listened while 
 the boys made all secure, and until their re- 
 treating footsteps were no longer audible, slunk 
 down the street as quickly as he could. 
 
 The house to which Oliver had been con- 
 veyed was in the neighbourhood of White- 
 chapel ; the Jew stopped for an instant at the 
 corner of the street, and, glancing suspiciously 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 311 
 
 round, crossed the road, and struck off in the 
 direction of Spitalfields. 
 
 The mud lay thick uj^on the stones, and a 
 black mist hung over the streets ; the rain fell 
 sluggishly down, and everything felt cold and 
 clammy to the touch. It seemed just the night 
 when it befitted such a being as the Jew to be 
 abroad. As he glided stealthily along, creeping 
 beneath the shelter of the walls and doorways, 
 the hideous old man seemed like some loath- 
 some reptile, engendered in the slime and dark- 
 ness through which he moved, crawling forth 
 by night in search of some rich offal for a meal. 
 
 He kept on his course through many winding 
 and narrow ways until he reached Bethnal 
 Green ; then, turning suddenly off to the left, 
 he soon became involved in a maze of the mean 
 and dirty streets which abound in that close 
 and densely-populated quarter. 
 
 The Jew was evidently too famihar with the 
 ground he traversed, however, to be at all be- 
 wildered either by the darkness of the night or 
 
312 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 the intricacies of the way. He hurried through 
 several alleys and streets, and at length turned 
 into one lighted only by a single lamp at the 
 farther end. At the door of a house in this 
 street he knocked, and having exchanged a few 
 muttered words with the person who opened 
 the door, walked up stairs. 
 
 A dog growled as he touched the handle of a 
 door, and a man's voice demanded who was 
 there. 
 
 " Only me, Bill ; only me, my dear," said 
 the Jew, looking in. 
 
 " Bring in your body,"*' said Sikes. " Lie 
 down, you stupid brute. Don't you know the 
 devil when he 's got a great-coat on ? " 
 
 Apparently the dog had been somewhat de- 
 ceived by Mr. Fagin's outer garment ; for as 
 the Jew unbuttoned it, and threw it over the 
 back of a chair, he retired to the corner from 
 which he had risen, wagging his tail as he went, 
 to show that he was as well satisfied as it was 
 in his nature to be. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 313 
 
 " Well!" said Sikes. 
 
 " Well, my dear," replied the Jew. *' Ah ! 
 Nancy." 
 
 The latter recognition was uttered with just 
 enough of embarrassment to imply a doubt of 
 its reception ; for Mr. Fagin and his young- 
 friend had not met since she had interfered in 
 behalf of Oliver. All doubts upon the subject, 
 if he had any, were speedily removed by the 
 young lady's behaviour. She took her feet 
 off the fender, pushed back her chair, and 
 bade Fagin draw up his, without saying any 
 more about it, for it was a cold night, and no 
 mistake. 
 
 *' It is cold, Nancy dear," said the Jew, as 
 he warmed his skinny hands over the fire. 
 " It seems to go right through one," added the 
 old man, touching his left side. 
 
 " It must be a piercer if it finds its way 
 through your heart," said Mr. Sikes. *' Give 
 him something to drink, Nancy. Burn my 
 body, make haste. It 's enough to turn a man 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
314 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 ill to see his lean old carcase shivering in that 
 
 way, like a ugly ghost just rose from the 
 
 grave." 
 
 Nancy quickly brought a bottle from a cup- 
 board in which there were many, which, to 
 judge from the diversity of their appearance, 
 were filled with several kinds of liquids ; and 
 Sikes, pouring out a glass of brandy, bade the 
 Jew drink it off. 
 
 " Quite enough, quite, thankye. Bill," replied 
 the Jew, putting down the glass after just 
 setting his lips to it. 
 
 " What ! you 're afraid of our getting the 
 better of you, are you ? " inquired Sikes, fixing 
 his eyes on the Jew : " ugh !" 
 
 With a hoarse grunt of contempt Mr. Sikes 
 seized the glass and threw the remainder of 
 its contents into the ashes, as a preparatory 
 ceremony to filling it again for himself, which 
 he did at once. 
 
 The Jew glanced round the room as his com- 
 panion tossed down the second glassful ; not in 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 315 
 
 curiosity, for he had seen it often before, but in 
 a restless and suspicious manner which was 
 habitual to him. It was a meanly furnished 
 apartment, with nothing but the contents of the 
 closet to induce the belief that its occupier was 
 anything but a working man ; and with no more 
 suspicious articles displayed to view than two 
 or three heavy bludgeons which stood in a 
 corner, and a "life-preserver" that hung over 
 the mantelpiece. 
 
 " There,'' said Sikes, smacking his lips. 
 " Now I 'm ready." 
 
 " For business — eh ? " inquired the Jew. 
 
 " For business,'' replied Sikes ; " so say what 
 you 've got to say." 
 
 ''About the crib at Chertsey, Bill?" said 
 the Jew, drawing his chair forward, and speak- 
 ing in a very low voice. 
 
 " Yes. Wot about it?" inquired Sikes. 
 
 " Ah ! you know what I mean, my dear," 
 said the Jew. " He knows what I mean, 
 Nancy ; don't he ? " 
 
316 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " No, he don't," sneered Mr. Sikes, " or he 
 won't, and that 's the same thing. Speak out, 
 and call things by their right names ; don't sit 
 there winking and blinking, and talking to me 
 in hints, as if you warn't the very first that 
 thought about the robbery. D — your eyes ! 
 wot d'ye mean ? " 
 
 " Hush, Bill, hush !" said the Jew, who had 
 in vain attempted to stop this burst of indigna- 
 tion ; " somebody will hear us, my dear ; some- 
 body will hear us." 
 
 "Let 'em hear!" said Sikes; ''I don't 
 care.'' But as Mr. Sikes did care, upon re- 
 flection he dropped his voice as he said the 
 words, and grew calmer. 
 
 " There, there," said the Jew coaxingly. 
 " It was only my caution — nothing more. 
 Now, my dear, about that crib at Chertsey ; 
 when is it to be done. Bill, eh ? — when is it to 
 be done ? Such plate, my dears, such plate ! '* 
 said the Jew, rubbing his hands, and elevating 
 his eyebrows in a rapture of anticipation. 
 
OLIVER TWIST, 317 
 
 *' Not at all," replied Sikes coldly. 
 
 " Not to be done at all!" echoed the Jew, 
 leaning back in his chair. 
 
 " No, not at all,'' rejoined Sikes ; " at least 
 it can't be a put-up job, as we expected." 
 
 " Then it hasn't been properly gone about," 
 said the Jew, turning pale with anger. " Don't 
 tell me." 
 
 " But I will tell you," retorted Sikes. 
 " Who are you that's not to be told ? I tell 
 you that Toby Crackit has been hanging about 
 the place for a fortnight, and he can't get one of 
 the servants into a line." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me, Bill," said the 
 Jew, softening as the other grew heated, " that 
 neither of the two men in the house can be got 
 over?" 
 
 " Yes, I do mean to tell you so," replied 
 Sikes. '' The old lady has had 'em these 
 twenty year ; and, if you were to give em five 
 hundred pound, they wouldn't be in it." 
 
 " But do you mean to say, my dear," remon- 
 
318 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 strated the Jew, " that the women can't be got 
 
 over ? 
 
 " Not a bit of it," repUed Sikes. 
 
 " Not by flash Toby Crackit ?" said the Jew 
 incredulously. " Think what women are, Bill." 
 
 " No ; not even by flash Toby Crackit,'' 
 replied Sikes. " He says he's worn sham 
 whiskers and a canary waistcoat the whole 
 blessed time he's been loitering down there, 
 and it's all of no use." 
 
 " He should have tried mustachios and a pair 
 of military trousers, my dear," said the Jew, 
 after a few moments' reflection. 
 
 "So he did," rejoined Sikes, " and they 
 warn't of no more use than the other plant." 
 
 The Jew looked very blank at this informa- 
 tion, and, arter ruminating for some minutes 
 with his chin sunk on his breast, raised his 
 head, and said with a deep sigh that, if flash 
 Toby Crackit reported aright, he feared the 
 game was up. 
 
 '' And yet," said the old man, dropping his 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 319 
 
 hands on his knees, " it 's a sad thing, my dear, 
 to lose so much when we had set our hearts 
 upon it." 
 
 " So it is,'' said Mr. Sikes ; " worse luck !" 
 
 A long silence ensued, during which the Jew 
 was plunged in deep thought, with his face 
 wrinkled into an expression of villany perfectly 
 demoniacal. Sikes eyed him furtively from 
 time to time ; and Nancy, apparently fearful of 
 irritating the housebreaker, sat with her eyes 
 fixed upon the fire, as if she had been deaf to 
 all that passed. 
 
 " Fagin," said Sikes, abruptly breaking the 
 stillness that prevailed, " is it worth fifty shiners 
 extra, if it's safely done from the outside ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the Jew, suddenly rousing him- 
 self, as if from a trance. 
 
 " Is it a bargain ? " inquired Sikes. 
 
 " Yes, my dear, yes," rejoined the Jew, 
 grasping the other's hand, his eyes glistening, 
 and every muscle in his face working with the 
 excitement that the inquiry had awakened. 
 
320 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 " Then," said Sikes, thrusting aside the Jew's 
 hand with some disdain, " let it come off as 
 soon as you hke. Toby and I were over the 
 garden-wall the night afore last, sounding the 
 panels of the door and shutters : the crib \s bar- 
 red up at night like a jail, but there ""s one part 
 we can crack, safe and softly." 
 
 "Which is that, Bill?" asked the Jew 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Why," whispered Sikes, " as you cross the 
 lawn " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the Jew, bending his head 
 forward, with his eyes almost starting out of it. 
 
 " Umph ! " cried Sikes, stopping short as the 
 girl, scarcely moving her head, looked suddenly 
 round and pointed for an instant to the Jew''s 
 face. " Never mind which part it is. You 
 can't do it without me, I know ; but it 's best 
 to be on the safe side when one deals with you." 
 
 " As you like, my dear, as you like," replied 
 the Jew, biting his lip. " Is there no help 
 wanted but yours and Toby's.^" 
 
OLIVER TWIST. S2l 
 
 *' None,'" said Sikes, '' 'cept a centre-bit and 
 a boy. The first we Ve both got ; the second 
 you must find us." 
 
 *' A boy ! "" exclaimed the Jew, *' Oh ! then 
 it is a panel, eh ? " 
 
 " Never mind wot it is ! " replied Sikes ; "I 
 want a boy, and he mustn't be a big un. 
 Lord!" said Mr. Sikes reflectively, "if I'd 
 only got that young boy of Ned, the chimbley- 
 sweeper's — he kept him small on purpose, and 
 let him out by the job. But the father gets 
 lagged, and then the Juvenile Delinquent So- 
 ciety comes, and takes the boy away from a 
 trade where he was arning money, teaches him 
 to read and write, and in time makes a 'prentice 
 of him. And so they go on," said Mr. Sikes, 
 his wrath rising with the recollection of his 
 wrongs, — " so they go on ; and, if they 'd got 
 money enough, (which it 's a Providence they 
 have not,) we shouldn't have half-a-dozen boys 
 left in the whole trade in a year or two." 
 
 " No more we should," acquiesced the Jew 
 
 p 5 
 
322 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 who had been considering during this speech, 
 and had only caught the last sentence. " Bill !" 
 " What now ?" inquired Sikes. 
 The Jew nodded his head towards Nancy, 
 who was still gazing at the fire, and intimated 
 by a sign that he would have her told to leave 
 the room. Sikes shrugged his shoulders impa- 
 tiently, as if he thought the precaution unneces- 
 sary, but complied, nevertheless, by requesting 
 Miss Nancy to fetch him a jug of beer. 
 
 " You don't want any beer," said Nancy, 
 folding her arms, and retaining her seat very 
 composedly. 
 
 " I tell you I do ! " replied Sikes. 
 " Nonsense," rejoined the girl, coolly. " Go 
 on, Fagin. I know what he's going to say, 
 Bill ; he needn't mind me." 
 
 The Jew still hesitated, and Sikes looked 
 from one to the other in some surprise. 
 
 " Why, you don't mind the old girl, do you, 
 Fagin?" he asked at length. ''- You've known 
 her long enough to trust her, or the devil 's in 
 it. She ain't one to blab, are you, Nancy ?" 
 
OLIVER TWIST. S2S 
 
 " / should think not ! " replied the young- 
 lady, drawing* her chair up to the table, and 
 putting her elbows upon it. 
 
 " No, no, my dear, — I know you're not," 
 
 said the Jew ; " but " and again the old 
 
 man paused. 
 
 " But wot?" inquired Sikes. 
 
 " I didn't know whether she mightn't p'r'aps 
 be out of sorts, you know, my dear, as she was 
 the other night," replied the Jew. 
 
 At this confession Miss Nancy burst into a 
 loud laugh, and, swallowing a glass of brandy, 
 shook her head with an air of defiance, and 
 burst into sundry exclamations of " Keep the 
 game a-going!" "Never say die!" and the 
 like, which seemed at once to have the effect 
 of re-assuring both gentlemen, for the Jew 
 nodded his head with a satisfied air, and re- 
 sumed his seat, as did Mr. Sikes likewise. 
 
 " Now, Fagin," said Nancy with a laugh, 
 '' tell Bill at once about OUver !" 
 
 "Ah! you're a clever one, my dear; the 
 
324 OLIVER TWIST, 
 
 sharpest girl I ever saw ! " said the Jew, patting 
 her on the neck. " It was about OHver I was 
 going to speak, sure enough. Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 " What about him ?" demanded Sikes. 
 " He's the boy for you, my dear," repHed 
 the Jew in a hoarse whisper, laying his finger 
 on the side of his nose, and grinning frightfully. 
 
 " He V exclaimed Sikes. 
 " Have him, Bill !" said Nancy. " I would 
 if I was in your place. He maynH be so much 
 up as any of the others ; but that 's not what 
 you want if he 's only to open a door for you. 
 Depend upon it he 's a safe one, Bill." 
 
 " I know he is," rejoined Fagin ; '^ he ''s been 
 in good training these last few weeks, and it ""s 
 time he began to work for his bread. Besides, 
 the others are all too big'." 
 
 " Well, he is just the size I want," said Mr. 
 Sikes, ruminating. 
 
 " And will do everything you want, Bill, my 
 dear," interposed the Jew; "he can't help him- 
 self, — that is if you only frighten him enough." 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 325 
 
 " Frighten him !" echoed Sikes. " It 11 be 
 no sham frightening, mind you. If there ""s any- 
 thing queer about him when we once get into 
 the work, — in for a penny, in for a pound, — 
 you won't see him aUve again, Fagin. Think 
 of that before you send him. Mark my words," 
 said the robber^ poising a heavy crowbar which 
 he had drawn from under the bedstead. 
 
 " I 've thought of it all," said the Jew with 
 energy. " I 've — I Ve had my eye upon him, 
 my dears, close — close. Once let him feel that 
 he is one of us ; once fill his mind with the idea 
 that he has been a thief, and he ""s ours, — ours 
 for his life ! Oho ! It couldn't have come 
 about better ! " The old man crossed his arms 
 upon his breast, and, drawing his head and 
 shoulders into a heap, literally hugged himself 
 for joy. 
 
 " Ours!"' said Sikes. " Yours, you mean." 
 
 '' Perhaps I do, my dear," said the Jew with 
 a shrill chuckle. " Mine, if you Hke, Bill." 
 
 " And wot," said Sikes, scowling fiercely on 
 
326 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 his agreeable friend, — " wot makes you take so 
 much pains about one chalk-faced kid, when 
 you know there are fifty boys snoozing about 
 Common Garden every night, as you might 
 pick and choose from ? " 
 
 '' Because they 're of no use to me, my dear," 
 repHed the Jew with some confusion, " not 
 worth the taking ; for their looks convict 'em 
 when they get into trouble, and I lose 'em all. 
 With this boy properly managed, my dears, I 
 could do what I couldn't with twenty of them. 
 Besides," said the Jew, recovering his self- 
 possession, " he has us now if he could only 
 give us leg-bail again; and he must be in the 
 same boat with us. Never mind how he came 
 there, it 's quite enough for my power over hhn 
 that he was in a robbery, that's all I want. 
 Now how much better this is than being 
 obliged to put the poor leetle boy out of the 
 way, which would be dangerous, and we should 
 lose by it besides." 
 
 " When is it to be done ?" asked Nancy, 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 3^7 
 
 stopping some turbulent exclamation on the 
 part of Mr. Sikes, expressive of the disgust 
 with which he received Fagin's affectation of 
 humanity. 
 
 '' Ah, to be sure," said the Jew, " when is it 
 to be done. Bill?" 
 
 " I planned with Toby, the night arter to- 
 morrow," rejoined Sikes in a surly voice, " if he 
 heard nothing from me to the contrairy." 
 
 " Good," said the Jew; " there's no moon." 
 
 " No," rejoined Sikes. 
 
 " It's all arranged about bringing off the 
 swag,* is it ?" asked the Jew. 
 
 Sikes nodded. 
 
 " And about " 
 
 "Oh, ah, it's all planned," rejoined Sikes, 
 interrupting him ; " never mind particulars. 
 You'd better bring the boy here to-morrow 
 night ; I shall get off the stones an hour arter 
 day-break. Then you hold your tongue, and 
 keep the melting-pot ready, and that's all 
 you '11 have to do." 
 
 * Booty. 
 
3^8 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 After some discussion, in which all three took 
 an active part, it was decided that Nancy should 
 repair to the Jew's next evening when the 
 night had set in, and bring Oliver away with 
 her : Fagin craftily observing, that, if he evinced 
 any disinclination to the task, he would be more 
 willing to accompany the girl who had so re- 
 cently interfered in his behalf, than anybody 
 else. It was also solemnly arranged that poor 
 Oliver should, for the purposes of the contem- 
 plated expedition, be unreservedly consigned to 
 the care and custody of Mr. WiUiam Sikes; 
 and further, that the said Sikes should deal with 
 him as he thought tit, and should not be held 
 responsible by the Jew for any mischance or 
 evil that might befall the boy, or any punish- 
 jnent with which it might be necessary to visit 
 him, it being understood that, to render the 
 compact in this respect binding, any representa- 
 tions made by Mr. Sikes on his return shoidd 
 be required to be confirmed and corroborate<l, 
 in all important particulars, by the testimony 
 of flash Toby Crackit. 
 
OLIVER TWIST. S^ 
 
 These preliminaries adjusted, Mr. Sikes pro- 
 ceeded to drink brandy at a furious rate, and to 
 flourish the crowbar in an alarming manner^ 
 yelling forth at the same time most unmusical 
 snatches of song, mingled with wild execrations. 
 At length, in a fit of professional enthusiasm, he 
 insisted upon producing his box of housebreak- 
 ing tools, which he had no sooner stumbled in 
 with, and opened for the purpose of explaining 
 the nature and properties of the various imple- 
 ments it contained, and the peculiar beauties of 
 their construction, than he fell over it upon the 
 floor, and went to sleep where he fell. 
 
 " Good night, Nancy,'' said the Jew, muf- 
 fling himself up as before. 
 
 " Good night." 
 
 Tlieir eyes met, and the Jew scrutinised her 
 narrowly. There ^was no flinching about the 
 girl. She was as true and earnest in the matter 
 as Toby Crackit himself could be. 
 
 The Jew again bade her good night, and, 
 bestowing a sly kick upon the prostrate form of 
 
330 OLIVER TWIST. 
 
 Mr. Sikes while her back was turned, groped 
 down stairs. 
 
 " Always the way,'' muttered the Jew to him- 
 self as he turned homewards. " The worst of 
 these women is, that a very little thing serves 
 to call up some long-forgotten feeling ; and the 
 best of them is, that it never lasts. Ha ! ha ! 
 The man against the child, for a bag of gold ! " 
 
 Beguiling the time with these pleasant re- 
 flections, Mr. Fagin wended his way through 
 mud and mire to his gloomy abode, where the 
 Dodger was sitting up, impatiently awaiting his 
 return. 
 
 " Is Oliver a-bed ? I want to speak to him," 
 was his first remark as they descended the stairs. 
 
 " Hours ago,'"* replied the Dodger, throwing 
 open a door. " Here he is ! " 
 
 The boy was lying fast asleep on a rude bed 
 upon the floor : so pale with anxiety and sadness, 
 and the closeness of his prison, that he looked 
 like death ; not death as it shows in shroud and 
 coffin, but in the guise it wears when life has 
 
OLIVER TWIST. 331 
 
 just departed ; when a young and gentle spirit 
 has but an instant fled to heaven, and the gross 
 air of the world has not had time to breathe 
 upon the changing dust it hallowed. 
 
 " Not now,'' said the Jew, turning softly, 
 away. " To-morrow. To-morrow." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
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NEW WORKS OF ENTERTAINMENT 
 
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 LIFE OF GRIMALDI THE CLOWN. 
 
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