Oliver Twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-3

Oliver Twistvery knowing; “we are the fellows to set this to rights; we’ll stop itall, in no time.” So, they established the rule, that all the poorpeople should have the alternative (for they would compel nobody,not they), of being starved by a gradual process in the house, or bya quick one out of it. With this view, they contracted with thewaterworks to lay on an unlimited supply of water; and with acorn-factor to supply periodically small quantities of oatmeal; andissued 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 wiseand humane regulations, having reference to the ladies, which it isnot necessary to repeat; kindly undertook to divorce poor marriedpeople, 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, andmade him a bachelor! There is no saying how many applicants forrelief under these last two heads, might have started up in allclasses of society, if it had not been coupled with the workhouse;but the Board were long-headed men, and had provided for thisdifficulty. The relief was inseparable from the workhouse and thegruel; and that frightened people.For the first six months after Oliver Twist was removed, thesystem was in full operation. It was rather expensive at first, inconsequence of the increase in the undertaker’s bill, and thenecessity of taking in the clothes of all the paupers, whichfluttered loosely on their wasted, shrunken forms, after a week ortwo’s gruel. But the number of workhouse inmates got thin as wellas the paupers; and the Board were in ecstasies.The room in which the boys were fed was a large stone hall,with a copper at one end: out of which the master, dressed in anCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistapron for the purpose, and assisted by one or two women, ladledthe gruel at meal-times. Of this festive composition each boy hadone porringer, and no more—except on occasions of great publicrejoicing, when he had two ounces and a quarter of bread besides.The bowls never wanted washing. The boys polished them withtheir spoons till they shone again; and when they had performedthis operation (which never took very long, the spoons beingnearly as large as the bowls), they would sit staring at the copper,with such eager eyes, as if they could have devoured the verybricks of which it was composed; employing themselves,meanwhile, in sucking their fingers most assiduously, with theview of catching up any stray splashes of gruel that might havebeen cast thereon. Boys have generally excellent appetites. OliverTwist and his companions suffered the tortures of slow starvationfor three months: at last they got so voracious and wild withhunger, that one boy, who was tall for his age, and hadn’t beenused to that sort of thing (for his father had kept a small cook-shop), hinted darkly to his companions, that unless he had anotherbasin of gruel per diem, he was afraid he might some night happento eat the boy who slept next him, who happened to be a weaklyyouth of tender age. He had a wild, hungry eye; and they implicitlybelieved him. A council was held; lots were cast who should walkup to the master after supper that evening, and ask for more; andit fell to Oliver Twist.The evening arrived; the boys took their places. The master, inhis cook’s uniform, stationed himself at the copper; his pauperassistants ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was servedout; and a long grace was said over the short commons. The grueldisappeared; the boys whispered each other, and winked at Oliver;Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistwhile his next neighbours nudged him. Child as he was, he wasdesperate with hunger, and reckless with misery. He rose from thetable; and advancing to the master, basin and spoon in hand, 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. Hegazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for someseconds, and then clung for support to the copper. The assistantswere paralysed with wonder; 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. Bumblerushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing thegentleman in the high chair, said:“Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir! Oliver Twist has askedfor more!”There was a general start. Horror was depicted on everycountenance.“For more!” said Mr. Limbkins. “Compose yourself, Bumble,and answer me distinctly. 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 gentleman in the whitewaistcoat. “I know that boy will be hung.”Nobody controverted the prophetic gentleman’s opinion. Ananimated discussion took place. Oliver was ordered into instantconfinement; and a bill was next morning pasted on the outside ofCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistthe gate, offering a reward of five pounds to anybody who wouldtake Oliver Twist off the hands of the parish. In other words, fivepounds and Oliver Twist were offered to any man or woman whowanted an apprentice to any trade, business, or calling.“I never was more convinced of anything in my life,” said thegentleman in the white waistcoat, as he knocked at the gate andread the bill next morning: “I never was more convinced ofanything 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 theinterest of this narrative (supposing it to possess any at all), if Iventured to hint just yet, whether the life of Oliver Twist had thisviolent termination or no.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver TwistChapter 3Relates How Oliver Twist Was Very Near Getting APlace, Which Would Not Have Been A Sinecure.For a week after the commission of the impious and profaneoffence of asking for more, Oliver remained a closeprisoner in the dark and solitary room to which he hadbeen consigned by the wisdom and mercy of the Board. It appears,at first sight, not unreasonable to suppose, that, if he hadentertained a becoming feeling of respect for the prediction of thegentle. man in the white waistcoat, he would have established thatsage individual’s prophetic character, once and for ever, by tyingone end of his pocket handkerchief to a hook in the wall, andattaching himself to the other. To the performance of this feat,however, there was one obstacle, namely, that pockethandkerchiefs being decided articles of luxury, had been for allfuture times and ages, removed from the noses of paupers by theexpress order of the Board, in council assembled: solemnly givenand pronounced under their hands and seals. There was a stillgreater obstacle in Oliver’s youth and childishness. He only criedbitterly all day; and, when the long, dismal night came on, spreadhis little hands before his eyes to shut out the darkness, andcrouching in the corner, tried to sleep: ever and anon waking witha start and tremble, and drawing himself closer and closer to thewall, as if to feel even its cold, hard surface were a protection inthe gloom and loneliness which surrounded him.Let it not be supposed by the enemies of “the system,” that,Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistduring the period of his solitary incarceration, Oliver was deniedthe benefit of exercise, the pleasure of society, or the advantages ofreligious consolation. As for exercise, it was nice cold weather, andhe was allowed to perform his ablutions every morning under thepump, in a stone yard, in the presence of Mr. Bumble, whoprevented his catching cold, and caused a tingling sensation topervade his frame, by repeated applications of the cane. As forsociety, he was carried every other day into the hall where theboys dined, and there sociably flogged as a public warning andexample. And so far from being denied the advantages of religiousconsolation, he was kicked into the same apartment every eveningat prayer-time, and there permitted to listen to, and console hismind with, a general supplication of the boys, containing a specialclause, therein inserted by authority of the Board, in which theyentreated to be made good, virtuous, contented, and obedient, andto be guarded from the sins and vices of Oliver Twist: whom thesupplication distinctly set forth to be under the exclusivepatronage and protection of the powers of wickedness, and anarticle direct from the manufactory of the very devil himself.It chanced one morning, while Oliver’s affairs were in thisauspicious and comfortable state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney-sweep, was wending his way down the High Street, deeplycogitating in his mind his ways and means of paying certainarrears of rent, for which his landlord had become rather pressing.Mr. Gamfield’s most sanguine estimate of his finances could notraise them within full five pounds of the desired amount; and, in aspecies of arithmetical desperation, he was alternately cudgellinghis brains and his donkey, when, passing the workhouse, his eyesencountered the bill on the gate.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist“Wo-o!” said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey.The donkey was in a state of profound abstraction: 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 withwhich the little cart was laden; so, without noticing the word ofcommand, he jogged onward.Mr. Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation on the donkeygenerally, but more particularly on his eyes; and, running afterhim, bestowed a blow on his head, which would inevitably havebeaten in any skull but a donkey’s. Then, catching hold of thebridle, he gave his jaw a sharp wrench, by way of gentle reminderthat he was not his own master; and by these means turned himround. He then gave him another blow on the head, just to stunhim till he came back again. Having completed thesearrangements, he walked up to the gate, to read the bill Thegentleman with the white waistcoat was standing at the gate withhis hands behind him, after having delivered himself of someprofound sentiments in the board-room. Having witnessed thelittle dispute between Mr. Gamfield and the donkey, he smiledjoyously when that person came up to read the bill, for he saw atonce that Mr. Gamfield was exactly the sort of master Oliver Twistwanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he perused the document; forfive pounds was just the sum he had been wishing for; and, as theboy with which it was encumbered, Mr. Gamfield, knowing whatthe dietary of the workhouse was, well knew he would be a nicesmall pattern, just the very thing for register stoves. So, he speltthe bill through again, from beginning to end; and then, touchinghis fur cap in token of humility, accosted the gentleman in thewhite waistcoat.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist“This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to ’prentis,” said Mr.Gamfield.“Ay, my man,” said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, with acondescending smile. “What of him?”“If the parish would like him to learn a right pleasant trade, in agood ’spectable chimbley-sweepin’ bisness,” said Mr. Gamfield, “Iwants a ’prentis, and I am ready to take him.”“Walk in,” said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. Mr.Gamfield having lingered behind, to give the donkey another blowon the head, and another wrench of the jaw, as a caution not torun away in his absence, followed the gentleman with the whitewaistcoat into the room where Oliver had first seen him.“It’s a nasty trade,” said Mr. Limbkins, when Gamfield hadagain stated his wish.“Young boys have been smothered in chimneys before now,”said another gentleman.“That’s ’cause they damped the straw afore they lit it in thechimbley to make ’em come down agin,” said Gamfield; “that’s allsmoke, and no blaze; vereas smoke ain’t o’ no use at all in makinga boy come down, for it only sinds him to sleep, and that’s wot helikes. Boys is wery obstinit, and wery lazy, gen’lmen, and there’snothink like a good hot blaze to make ’em come down vith a run.It’s humane too, gen’lmen, acause, even if they’ve stuck in thechimbley, roasting their feet makes ’em struggle to hextricatetheirselves.”The gentleman in the white waistcoat appeared very muchamused by this explanation; but his mirth was speedily checked bya look from Mr. Limbkins. The Board then proceeded to converseamong themselves for a few minutes, but in so low a tone, that theCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistwords “saving of expenditure,” “looked well in the accounts,”“have a printed report published,” were alone audible. These onlychanced to be heard, indeed, on account of their being veryfrequently repeated with great emphasis. At length the whisperingceased; and the members of the Board having resumed their seatsand their solemnity, Mr. Limbkins said: “We have considered yourproposition, and we don’t approve of it.”“Not at all,” said the gentleman in the white waistcoat.“Decidedly not,” added the other members.As Mr. Gamfield did happen to labour under the slightimputation of having bruised three or four boys to death already, itoccurred to him that the Board had, perhaps, in someunaccountable freak, taken it into their heads that this extraneouscircumstance ought to influence their proceedings. It was veryunlike their general mode of doing business, if they had; but still,as he had no particular wish to revive the rumour, he twisted hiscap 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 weoffered.”Mr. Gamfield’s countenance brightened, as, with a quick step,he returned to the table, and said:“What’ll you give, gen’lmen? Come! Don’t be too hard on a poorman. What’ll you give?”“I should say, three pounds ten was plenty,” said Mr. Limbkins.“Ten shillings too much,” said the gentleman in the whitewaistcoat.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist“Come!” said Gamfield; “say four pound, gen’lmen. Say fourpound, and you’ve got rid on him for good and all. There!“Three pound ten,” repeated Mr. Limbkins firmly.“Come! I’ll split the difference, gen’lmen,” urged Gamfield.Three pound fifteen.”“Not a farthing more,” said the firm reply of Mr. Limbkins.“You’re desperate hard upon me, gen’lmen,” said Gamfield,wavering.“Pooh! pooh! nonsense!” said the gentleman in the whitewaistcoat. “He’d be cheap with nothing at all, as a premium. Takehim, you silly fellow! He’s just the boy for you. He wants the stick,now and then: it’ll do him good; and his board needn’t come veryexpensive, for he hasn’t been overfed since he was born. Ha! ha!ha!”Mr. Gamfield gave an arch look at the faces round the table,and, observing a smile on all of them, gradually broke into a smilehimself. The bargain was made. Mr. Bumble was at onceinstructed that Oliver Twist and his indentures were to beconveyed before the magistrate for signature and approval, thatvery afternoon. In pursuance of this determination, little Oliver, tohis excessive astonishment, was released from bondage, andordered to put himself into a clean shirt. He had hardly achievedthis very unusual gymnastic performance, when Mr. Bumblebrought him, with his own hands, a basin of gruel, and the holidayallowance of two ounces and a quarter of bread. At thistremendous sight, Oliver began to cry very piteously: thinking, notunnaturally, that the Board must have determined to kill him forsome useful purpose, or they never would have begun to fattenhim up in that way.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist“Don’t make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat your food and bethankful,” said Mr. Bumble, in a tone of impressive pomposity.“You’re a-going to be made a ’prentice of, Oliver.”“A ’prentice, sir!” said the child, trembling.“Yes, Oliver,” said Mr. Bumble. “The kind and blessedgentlemen which is so many parents to you, Oliver, when you havenone of your own, are a-going to ’prentice you, and to set you up inlife, and make a man of you; although the expense to the parish isthree pound ten!—three pound ten, Oliver!—seventy shillins onehundred and forty sixpences!—and all for a naughty orphan whichnobody can’t love.”As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath, after delivering thisaddress in an awful voice, the tears rolled down the poor child’sface, and he sobbed bitterly.“Come,” said Mr. Bumble, somewhat less pompously, for It wasgratifying to his feelings to observe the effect his eloquence hadproduced; “come, Oliver! Wipe your eyes with the cuffs of your

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