Oliver Twist
RELATES HOW OLIVER TWIST WAS VERY NEAR GETTING A PLACE WHICH WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SINECURE
For a week after the of the and of asking for more, Oliver a close in the dark and room to which he had been by the and of the board. It appears, at not to suppose, that, if he had a of respect for the of the in the white waistcoat, he would have that individual’s character, once and for ever, by one end of his pocket-handkerchief to a in the wall, and attaching himself to the other. To the performance of this feat, however, there was one obstacle: namely, that pocket-handkerchiefs being articles of luxury, had been, for all times and ages, from the of by the order of the board, in assembled: and under their hands and seals. There was a still in Oliver’s and childishness. He only all day; and, when the long, night came on, spread his little hands his to out the darkness, and in the corner, to sleep: and with a start and tremble, and himself closer and closer to the wall, as if to its cold hard surface were a protection in the and which him.
Let it not be by the of “the system,” that, the period of his incarceration, Oliver was the of exercise, the of society, or the of religious consolation. As for exercise, it was cold weather, and he was allowed to perform his every under the pump, in a yard, in the presence of Mr. Bumble, who his cold, and a to his frame, by of the cane. As for society, he was every other day into the where the boys dined, and there as a public and example. And so from being the of religious consolation, he was into the same every at prayer-time, and there permitted to to, and his mind with, a of the boys, a special clause, by authority of the board, in which they to be good, virtuous, contented, and obedient, and to be from the and of Oliver Twist: the set to be under the and protection of the powers of wickedness, and an article direct from the of the very Devil himself.
It one morning, while Oliver’s were in this and state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney-sweep, his way the High Street, in his mind his and means of paying of rent, for which his had pressing. Mr. Gamfield’s most of his not them full five of the amount; and, in a of desperation, he was alternately his and his donkey, when the workhouse, his the bill on the gate.
“Wo—o!” said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey.
The was in a of abstraction: wondering, probably, he was to be with a cabbage-stalk or two when he had of the two of with which the little was laden; so, without noticing the word of command, he onward.
Mr. Gamfield a on the generally, but more particularly on his eyes; and, after him, a on his head, which would have in any but a donkey’s. Then, of the bridle, he gave his a wrench, by way of that he was not his own master; and by these means him round. He then gave him another on the head, just to him till he came again. Having these arrangements, he walked up to the gate, to read the bill.
The with the white was at the gate with his hands him, after having delivered himself of some in the board-room. Having the little Mr. Gamfield and the donkey, he when that person came up to read the bill, for he saw at once that Mr. Gamfield was the of master Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he the document; for five was just the he had been for; and, as to the boy with which it was encumbered, Mr. Gamfield, what the of the was, well he would be a small pattern, just the very thing for register stoves. So, he the bill through again, from to end; and then, his cap in of humility, the in the white waistcoat.
“This here boy, sir, the wants to ’prentis,” said Mr. Gamfield.
“Ay, my man,” said the in the white waistcoat, with a smile. “What of him?”
“If the like him to learn a right trade, in a good ’spectable chimbley-sweepin’ bisness,” said Mr. Gamfield, “I wants a ’prentis, and I am to take him.”
“Walk in,” said the in the white waistcoat. Mr. Gamfield having behind, to give the another on the head, and another of the jaw, as a not to away in his absence, the with the white into the room where Oliver had him.
“It’s a trade,” said Mr. Limbkins, when Gamfield had again his wish.
“Young boys have been in now,” said another gentleman.
“That’s they the they it in the to make ’em come again,” said Gamfield; “that’s all smoke, and no blaze; ain’t o’ no use at all in making a boy come down, for it only him to sleep, and that’s he likes. Boys is obstinit, and lazy, Gen’l’men, and there’s like a good to make ’em come a run. It’s too, gen’l’men, acause, if they’ve in the chimbley, their makes ’em to theirselves.”
The in the white appeared very much by this explanation; but his was by a look from Mr. Limbkins. The then to among themselves for a minutes, but in so low a tone, that the “saving of expenditure,” “looked well in the accounts,” “have a printed report published,” were alone audible. These only to be heard, indeed, or account of their being very with great emphasis.
At length the ceased; and the members of the board, having their seats and their solemnity, Mr. Limbkins said:
“We have your proposition, and we don’t approve of it.”
“Not at all,” said the in the white waistcoat.
“Decidedly not,” added the other members.
As Mr. Gamfield did to under the of having three or four boys to death already, it to him that the had, perhaps, in some freak, taken it into their that this ought to their proceedings. It was very their mode of doing business, if they had; but still, as he had no particular wish to the rumour, he his cap in his hands, and walked slowly from the table.
“So you won’t let me have him, gen’l’men?” said Mr. Gamfield, near the door.
“No,” Mr. Limbkins; “at least, as it’s a business, we think you ought to take something less than the premium we offered.”
Mr. Gamfield’s brightened, as, with a quick step, he returned to the table, and said,
“What’ll you give, gen’l’men? Come! Don’t be too hard on a man. What’ll you give?”
“I should say, three ten was plenty,” said Mr. Limbkins.
“Ten too much,” said the in the white waistcoat.
“Come!” said Gamfield; “say four pound, gen’l’men. Say four pound, and you’ve got of him for good and all. There!”
“Three ten,” Mr. Limbkins, firmly.
“Come! I’ll the diff’erence, gen’l’men,” Gamfield. “Three fifteen.”
“Not a more,” was the reply of Mr. Limbkins.
“You’re hard upon me, gen’l’men,” said Gamfield, wavering.
“Pooh! pooh! nonsense!” said the in the white waistcoat. “He’d be with nothing at all, as a premium. Take him, you fellow! He’s just the boy for you. He wants the stick, now and then: it’ll do him good; and his needn’t come very expensive, for he hasn’t been since he was born. Ha! ha! ha!”
Mr. Gamfield gave an look at the the table, and, a on all of them, into a himself. The was made. Mr. Bumble, was at once that Oliver Twist and his were to be the magistrate, for and approval, that very afternoon.
In of this determination, little Oliver, to his astonishment, was from bondage, and ordered to put himself into a clean shirt. He had this very performance, when Mr. Bumble him, with his own hands, a of gruel, and the of two and a of bread. At this sight, Oliver to very piteously: thinking, not unnaturally, that the must have to kill him for some useful purpose, or they would have to him up in that way.
“Don’t make your red, Oliver, but eat your food and be thankful,” said Mr. Bumble, in a of pomposity. “You’re a going to be a ’prentice of, Oliver.”
“A prentice, sir!” said the child, trembling.
“Yes, Oliver,” said Mr. Bumble. “The and which is so many 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 to the is three ten!—three ten, Oliver!—seventy shillins—one hundred and sixpences!—and all for a which nobody can’t love.”
As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath, after this address in an voice, the rolled the child’s face, and he bitterly.
“Come,” said Mr. Bumble, less pompously, for it was to his to the his had produced; “Come, Oliver! Wipe your with the of your jacket, and don’t into your gruel; that’s a very action, Oliver.” It was, for there was water in it already.
On their way to the magistrate, Mr. Bumble Oliver that all he would have to do, would be to look very happy, and say, when the asked him if he wanted to be apprenticed, that he should like it very much indeed; of which Oliver promised to obey: the as Mr. Bumble in a hint, that if he failed in either particular, there was no telling what would be done to him. When they at the office, he was up in a little room by himself, and by Mr. Bumble to there, until he came to him.
There the boy remained, with a heart, for an hour. At the of which time Mr. Bumble in his head, with the hat, and said aloud:
“Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the gentleman.” As Mr. Bumble said this, he put on a and look, and added, in a low voice, “Mind what I told you, you rascal!”
Oliver in Mr. Bumble’s at this of address; but that his any thereupon, by leading him at once into an room: the door of which was open. It was a large room, with a great window. Behind a desk, sat two old with heads: one of was reading the newspaper; while the other was perusing, with the of a pair of tortoise-shell spectacles, a small piece of which him. Mr. Limbkins was in of the on one side; and Mr. Gamfield, with a face, on the other; while two or three bluff-looking men, in top-boots, were about.
The old with the off, over the little of parchment; and there was a pause, after Oliver had been by Mr. Bumble in of the desk.
“This is the boy, your worship,” said Mr. Bumble.
The old who was reading the newspaper his for a moment, and the other old by the sleeve; whereupon, the last-mentioned old up.
“Oh, is this the boy?” said the old gentleman.
“This is him, sir,” Mr. Bumble. “Bow to the magistrate, my dear.”
Oliver himself, and his best obeisance. He had been wondering, with his on the magistrates’ powder, all were with that white on their heads, and were from on that account.
“Well,” said the old gentleman, “I he’s of chimney-sweeping?”
“He on it, your worship,” Bumble; Oliver a pinch, to that he had not say he didn’t.
“And he will be a sweep, will he?” the old gentleman.
“If we was to him to any other to-morrow, he’d away simultaneous, your worship,” Bumble.
“And this man that’s to be his master—you, sir—you’ll him well, and him, and do all that of thing, will you?” said the old gentleman.
“When I says I will, I means I will,” Mr. Gamfield doggedly.
“You’re a speaker, my friend, but you look an honest, open-hearted man,” said the old gentleman: his in the direction of the candidate for Oliver’s premium, was a regular receipt for cruelty. But the was and childish, so he couldn’t be to what other people did.
“I I am, sir,” said Mr. Gamfield, with an leer.
“I have no you are, my friend,” the old gentleman: his more on his nose, and looking about him for the inkstand.
It was the moment of Oliver’s fate. If the had been where the old it was, he would have his pen into it, and the indentures, and Oliver would have been off. But, as it to be under his nose, it followed, as a of course, that he looked all over his for it, without it; and in the of his search to look him, his the and of Oliver Twist: who, despite all the looks and of Bumble, was the of his master, with a of and fear, too to be mistaken, by a half-blind magistrate.
The old stopped, his pen, and looked from Oliver to Mr. Limbkins; who to take with a and aspect.
“My boy!” said the old gentleman, “you look and alarmed. What is the matter?”
“Stand a little away from him, Beadle,” said the other magistrate: the paper, and with an of interest. “Now, boy, tell us what’s the matter: don’t be afraid.”
Oliver on his knees, and his hands together, prayed that they would order him to the dark room—that they would him—beat him—kill him if they pleased—rather than send him away with that man.
“Well!” said Mr. Bumble, his hands and with most solemnity. “Well! of all the and that I see, Oliver, you are one of the most bare-facedest.”
“Hold your tongue, Beadle,” said the second old gentleman, when Mr. Bumble had to this adjective.
“I your worship’s pardon,” said Mr. Bumble, of having aright. “Did your speak to me?”
“Yes. Hold your tongue.”
Mr. Bumble was with astonishment. A ordered to his tongue! A revolution!
The old in the tortoise-shell looked at his companion, he significantly.
“We to these indentures,” said the old gentleman: the piece of as he spoke.
“I hope,” Mr. Limbkins: “I the will not the opinion that the have been of any conduct, on the of a child.”
“The are not called upon to any opinion on the matter,” said the second old sharply. “Take the boy to the workhouse, and him kindly. He to want it.”
That same evening, the in the white most positively and affirmed, not only that Oliver would be hung, but that he would be and into the bargain. Mr. Bumble his with mystery, and said he he might come to good; Mr. Gamfield replied, that he he might come to him; which, although he with the in most matters, would to be a wish of a totally opposite description.
The next morning, the public were once that Oliver Twist was again To Let, and that five would be paid to who would take of him.
