Oliver Twist
OLIVER, BEING GOADED BY THE TAUNTS OF NOAH, ROUSES INTO ACTION, AND RATHER ASTONISHES HIM
The month’s trial over, Oliver was apprenticed. It was a season just at this time. In phrase, were looking up; and, in the of a weeks, Oliver a great of experience. The success of Mr. Sowerberry’s speculation, his most hopes. The no period at which had been so prevalent, or so to existence; and many were the which little Oliver headed, in a hat-band to his knees, to the and of all the mothers in the town. As Oliver his master in most of his adult too, in order that he might that of and full of nerve which was to a undertaker, he had many opportunities of the and with which some strong-minded people their and losses.
For instance; when Sowerberry had an order for the of some rich old lady or gentleman, who was by a great number of and nieces, who had been perfectly the previous illness, and had been on the most public occasions, they would be as happy among themselves as need be—quite and contented—conversing together with as much and gaiety, as if nothing had to them. Husbands, too, the of their with the most calmness. Wives, again, put on for their husbands, as if, so from in the of sorrow, they had up their minds to it as and as possible. It was observable, too, that ladies and who were in of the of interment, almost as soon as they home, and the tea-drinking was over. All this was very and to see; and Oliver it with great admiration.
That Oliver Twist was moved to by the example of these good people, I cannot, although I am his biographer, to with any of confidence; but I can most say, that for many months he to submit to the and ill-treatment of Noah Claypole: who used him than before, now that his was by the new boy promoted to the black and hatband, while he, the old one, in the muffin-cap and leathers. Charlotte him ill, Noah did; and Mrs. Sowerberry was his enemy, Mr. Sowerberry was to be his friend; so, these three on one side, and a of on the other, Oliver was not as as the pig was, when he was up, by mistake, in the of a brewery.
And now, I come to a very passage in Oliver’s history; for I have to record an act, and in appearance, but which produced a material in all his and proceedings.
One day, Oliver and Noah had into the at the dinner-hour, to upon a small joint of mutton—a and a of the end of the neck—when Charlotte being called out of the way, there a of time, which Noah Claypole, being and vicious, he not possibly to a purpose than and Oliver Twist.
Intent upon this amusement, Noah put his on the table-cloth; and Oliver’s hair; and his ears; and his opinion that he was a “sneak”; and his of to see him hanged, that event should take place; and entered upon of annoyance, like a and ill-conditioned charity-boy as he was. But, making Oliver cry, Noah to be more still; and in his attempt, did what many sometimes do to this day, when they want to be funny. He got personal.
“Work’us,” said Noah, “how’s your mother?”
“She’s dead,” Oliver; “don’t you say anything about her to me!”
Oliver’s colour rose as he said this; he quickly; and there was a of the mouth and nostrils, which Mr. Claypole must be the of a fit of crying. Under this he returned to the charge.
“What did she die of, Work’us?” said Noah.
“Of a heart, some of our old told me,” Oliver: more as if he were talking to himself, than Noah. “I think I know what it must be to die of that!”
“Tol de lol, right lairy, Work’us,” said Noah, as a tear rolled Oliver’s cheek. “What’s set you a now?”
“Not you,” Oliver, sharply. “There; that’s enough. Don’t say anything more to me about her; you’d not!”
“Better not!” Noah. “Well! Better not! Work’us, don’t be impudent. Your mother, too! She was a ’un she was. Oh, Lor!” And here, Noah his expressively; and up as much of his small red nose as action together, for the occasion.
“Yer know, Work’us,” Noah, by Oliver’s silence, and speaking in a of pity: of all the most annoying: “Yer know, Work’us, it can’t be helped now; and of couldn’t help it then; and I am very sorry for it; and I’m sure we all are, and very much. But must know, Work’us, mother was a regular right-down ’un.”
“What did you say?” Oliver, looking up very quickly.
“A regular right-down ’un, Work’us,” Noah, coolly. “And it’s a great better, Work’us, that she died when she did, or else she’d have been hard in Bridewell, or transported, or hung; which is more likely than either, isn’t it?”
Crimson with fury, Oliver started up; the chair and table; Noah by the throat; him, in the of his rage, till his teeth in his head; and his whole into one blow, him to the ground.
A minute ago, the boy had looked the child, mild, that had him. But his was at last; the to his mother had set his blood on fire. His heaved; his was erect; his and vivid; his whole person changed, as he over the who now at his feet; and him with an energy he had before.
“He’ll me!” Noah. “Charlotte! missis! Here’s the new boy a of me! Help! help! Oliver’s gone mad! Char—lotte!”
Noah’s were to, by a loud from Charlotte, and a louder from Mrs. Sowerberry; the of into the by a side-door, while the paused on the till she was that it was with the of life, to come down.
“Oh, you little wretch!” Charlotte: Oliver with her force, which was about equal to that of a man in particularly good training. “Oh, you little un-grate-ful, mur-de-rous, hor-rid villain!” And every syllable, Charlotte gave Oliver a with all her might: it with a scream, for the of society.
Charlotte’s was by no means a light one; but, it should not be in Oliver’s wrath, Mrs. Sowerberry into the kitchen, and to him with one hand, while she his with the other. In this position of affairs, Noah rose from the ground, and him behind.
This was too to last long. When they were all out, and tear and no longer, they Oliver, and shouting, but nothing daunted, into the dust-cellar, and there locked him up. This being done, Mrs. Sowerberry into a chair, and into tears.
“Bless her, she’s going off!” said Charlotte. “A of water, Noah, dear. Make haste!”
“Oh! Charlotte,” said Mrs. Sowerberry: speaking as well as she could, through a of breath, and a of cold water, which Noah had over her and shoulders. “Oh! Charlotte, what a we have not all been in our beds!”
“Ah! indeed, ma’am,” was the reply. I only this’ll teach master not to have any more of these creatures, that are to be and from their very cradle. Poor Noah! He was all but killed, ma’am, when I come in.”
“Poor fellow!” said Mrs. Sowerberry: looking on the charity-boy.
Noah, top waistcoat-button might have been on a level with the of Oliver’s head, his with the of his while this was upon him, and performed some and sniffs.
“What’s to be done!” Mrs. Sowerberry. “Your master’s not at home; there’s not a man in the house, and he’ll that door in ten minutes.” Oliver’s against the of in question, this probable.
“Dear, dear! I don’t know, ma’am,” said Charlotte, “unless we send for the police-officers.”
“Or the millingtary,” Mr. Claypole.
“No, no,” said Mrs. Sowerberry: herself of Oliver’s old friend. “Run to Mr. Bumble, Noah, and tell him to come here directly, and not to a minute; mind your cap! Make haste! You can a knife to that black eye, as you along. It’ll keep the down.”
Noah stopped to make no reply, but started off at his speed; and very much it the people who were out walking, to see a charity-boy through the pell-mell, with no cap on his head, and a clasp-knife at his eye.
