itself to her husband’s mind before? Mr. Sowerberry rightlyconstrued this, as an acquiescence in his proposition; it wasspeedily determined, therefore, that Oliver should be at onceinitiated into the mysteries of the trade; and, with this view, thatCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twisthe should accompany his master on the very next occasion of hisservices being required.The occasion was not long in coming. Half an hour afterbreakfast next morning, Mr. Bumble entered the shop; andsupporting his cane against the counter, drew forth his largeleathern pocket-book: from which he selected a small scrap ofpaper, which he handed over to Sowerberry.“Aha!” said the undertaker, glancing over it with a livelycountenance; “an order for a coffin, eh?”“For a coffin first, and a porochial funeral afterwards,” repliedMr. Bumble, fastening the strap of the leathern pocketbook:which, like himself, was very corpulent.“Bayton,” said the undertaker, looking from the scrap of paperto Mr. Bumble. “I never heard the name before.”Bumble shook his head, as he replied, “Obstinate 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. “Antimonial, Mr.Sowerberry!”“So it is,” acquiesced the undertaker.“We only heard of the family the night before last,” said thebeadle; “and we shouldn’t have known anything about them, then,only a woman who lodges in the same house made an applicationto the porochial committee for them to send the porochial surgeonto see a woman as was very bad. He had gone out to dinner; buthis ’prentice (which is a very clever lad) sent ’em some medicine ina blacking-bottle, offhand.”“Ah, there’s promptness,” said the undertaker.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist“Promptness, indeed!” replied the beadle. “But what’s theconsequence; what’s the ungrateful behaviour of these rebels, sir?Why, the husband sends back word that the medicine won’t suithis wife’s complaint, and so she shan’t take it—says she shan’ttake it, sir! Good, strong, wholesome medicine, as was given withgreat success to two Irish labourers and a coal-heaver, only a weekbefore—sent ’em for nothing, with a blackin’-bottle in—and hesends back word that she shan’t take it, sir!”As the atrocity presented itself to Mr. Bumble’s mind in fullforce, he struck the counter sharply with his cane, and becameflushed with indignation.“Well,” said the undertaker, “I ne—ver—did—”“Never did, sir!” ejaculated the beadle. “No, nor anybody neverdid; but, now she’s dead, we’ve got to bury her; and that’s thedirection; and the sooner it’s done, the better.” Thus saying, Mr.Bumble put on his cocked hat wrong side first, in a fever ofparochial excitement; and flounced out of the shop.“Why, he was so angry, Oliver, that he forgot even to ask afteryou!” said Mr. Sowerberry, looking after the beadle as he strodedown the street.“Yes, sir,” replied Oliver, who had carefully kept himself out ofsight, during the interview; and who was shaking from head tofoot at the mere recollection of the sound of Mr. Bumble’s voice.He needn’t have taken the trouble to shrink from Mr. Bumble’sglance, however; for that functionary, on whom the prediction ofthe gentleman in the white waistcoat had made a very strongimpression, thought that now the undertaker had got Oliver upontrial, the subject was better avoided, until such time as he shouldbe firmly bound for seven years, and all danger of his beingCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistreturned upon the hands of the parish should be thus effectuallyand legally overcome.“Well,” said Mr. Sowerberry, taking up his hat, “the sooner thisjob is done, the better. Noah, look after the shop. Oliver, put onyour cap, and come with me.”Oliver obeyed, and followed his master on his professionalmission.They walked on, for some time, through the most crowded anddensely inhabited part of the town; and then, striking down anarrow street more dirty and miserable than any they had yetpassed through, paused to look for the house which was the objectof their search. The houses on either side were high and large, butvery old, and tenanted by people of the poorest class: as theirneglected appearance would have sufficiently denoted, withoutthe concurrent testimony afforded by the squalid looks of the fewmen and women who, with folded arms and bodies half-doubled,occasionally skulked along. A great many of the tenements hadshop-fronts; but these were fast closed, and mouldering away; onlythe upper rooms being inhabited. Some houses which had becomeinsecure from age and decay, were prevented from falling into thestreet by huge beams of wood reared against the walls, and firmlyplanted in the road; but even these crazy dens seemed to havebeen selected as the nightly haunts of some houseless wretches,for many of the rough boards, which supplied the place of doorand window, were wrenched from their positions, to afford anaperture wide enough for the passage of a human body. Thekennel was stagnant and filthy. The very rats, which here andthere lay putrefying in its rottenness, were hideous with famine.There was neither knocker nor bell-handle at the open doorCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistwhere Oliver and his master stopped; so, groping his waycautiously through the dark passage, and bidding Oliver keepclose to him and not be afraid, the undertaker mounted to the topof the first flight of stairs. Stumbling against a door on the landing,he rapped at it with his knuckles.It was opened by a young girl of thirteen or fourteen. Theundertaker at once saw enough of what the room contained, toknow it was the apartment to which he had been directed. Hestepped in; Oliver followed him.There was no fire in the room; but a man was crouchingmechanically over the empty stove. An old woman, too, had drawna low stool to the cold hearth, and was sitting beside him. Therewere some ragged children in another corner; and in a smallrecess, opposite the door, there lay upon the ground, somethingcovered with an old blanket. Oliver shuddered as he cast his eyestowards the place, and crept involuntary closer to his master; forthough it was covered up, the boy felt that it was a corpse.The man’s face was thin and very pale; his hair and beard weregrizzly; his eyes were bloodshot. The old woman’s face waswrinkled; her two remaining teeth protruded over her under lip;and her eyes were bright and piercing. Oliver was afraid to look ateither her or the man. They seemed so like the rats he had seenoutside.“Nobody shall go near her,” said the man, starting fiercely up,as the undertaker approached the recess. “Keep back! Damn you,keep back, if you’ve a life to lose!”“Nonsense, my good man,” said the undertaker, who was prettywell used to misery in all its shapes. “Nonsense!”“I tell you,” said the man, clenching his hands, and stampingCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistfuriously on the floor—“I tell you I won’t have her put into theground. She couldn’t rest there. The worms would worry her—noteat her—she is so worn away.”The undertaker offered no reply to this raving; but, producing atape from his pocket, knelt down for a moment by the side of thebody.“Ah!” said the man, bursting into tears, and sinking on hisknees at the feet of the dead woman; “kneel down, kneel down—kneel round her, every one of you, and mark my words! I say shewas starved to death. I never knew how bad she was, till the fevercame upon her; and then her bones were starting through theskin. There was neither fire nor candle; she died in the dark—inthe dark! She couldn’t even see her children’s faces, though weheard 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; andall the blood in my heart has dried up, for they starved her todeath. I swear it before the God that saw it! They starved her!” Hetwined his hands in his hair; and, with a loud scream, rolledgrovelling upon the floor, his eyes fixed and the foam covering hislips.The terrified children cried bitterly; but the old woman, whohad hitherto remained as quiet as if she had been wholly deaf toall that passed, menaced them into silence. Having unloosed thecravat of the man who still remained extended on the ground, shetottered towards the undertaker.“She was my daughter,” said the old woman, nodding her headin the direction of the corpse; and speaking with an idiotic leer,more ghastly than even the presence of death in such a place.“Lord, Lord! Well, it is strange that I who gave birth to her, andCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistwas a woman then, should be alive and merry now, and she lyingthere, so cold and stiff! Lord, Lord!—to think of it; it’s as good as aplay—as good as a play!”As the wretched creature mumbled and chuckled in herhideous merriment, the undertaker turned to go away.“Stop, stop!” said the old woman, in a loud whisper. “Will shebe buried tomorrow, or next day, or tonight? I laid her out; and Imust 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 wego! Never mind; send some bread—only a loaf of bread and a cupof water. Shall we have some bread, dear?” she said eagerly,catching at the undertaker’s coat, as he once more moved towardsthe door.“Yes, yes,” said the undertaker, “of course. Anything you like!”he disengaged himself from the old woman’s grasp; and, drawingOliver after him, hurried away.The next day (the family having been meanwhile relieved witha half-quartern loaf and a piece of cheese, left with them by Mr.Bumble himself), Oliver and his master returned to the miserableabode; where Mr. Bumble had already arrived, accompanied byfour men from the workhouse, who were to act as bearers. An oldblack cloak had been thrown over the rags of the old woman andthe man; and the bare coffin having been screwed down, washoisted on the shoulders of the bearers, and carried into the street.“Now, you must put your best leg foremost, old lady!”whispered Sowerberry in the old woman’s ear; “we are rather late,and it won’t do to keep the clergyman waiting. Move on, my men—as quick as you like!”Thus directed, the bearers trotted on under their light burden;Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistand the two mourners kept as near them as they could. Mr.Bumble and Sowerberry walked at a good smart pace in front; andOliver, whose legs were not so long as his master’s, ran by the side.There was not so great a necessity for hurrying as Mr.Sowerberry had anticipated, however; for when they reached theobscure corner of the churchyard in which the nettles grew, andwhere the parish graves were made, the clergyman had notarrived; and the clerk, who was sitting by the vestry-room fire,seemed to think it by no means improbable that it might be anhour or so before he came. So, they put the bier on the brink of thegrave; and the two mourners waited patiently in the damp clay,with a cold rain drizzling down, while the ragged boys whom thespectacle had attracted into the churchyard played a noisy gameat hide-and-seek among the tombstones, or varied theiramusements 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 a lapse of something more than an hour, Mr.Bumble, and Sowerberry, and the clerk, were seen runningtowards the grave. Immediately afterwards, the clergymanappeared, putting on his surplice as he came along. Mr. Bumblethen thrashed a boy or two, to keep up appearances; and thereverend gentleman, having read as much of the burial service ascould be compressed into four minutes, gave his surplice to theclerk, and walked 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 theuppermost coffin was within a few feet of the surface. The grave-digger shovelled in the earth; stamped it loosely down with hisCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistfeet; shouldered his spade; and walked off, followed by the boys,who murmured very loud complaints at the fun being over sosoon.“Come, my good fellow!” said Bumble, tapping the man on theback, “they want to shut up the yard.”The man who had never once moved, since he had taken hisstation by the grave-side, started, raised his head, stared at theperson who had addressed him, walked forward a few paces, andfell down in a swoon. The crazy old woman was too muchoccupied in bewailing the loss of her cloak (which the undertakerhad taken off), to pay him any attention; so they threw a can ofcold water over him; and when he came to, saw him safely out ofthe churchyard, locked the gate, and departed on their differentways.“Well, Oliver,” said Sowerberry, as they walked home, “how doyou like it?”“Pretty well, thank you, sir,” replied Oliver, with considerablehesitation. “Not very much, sir.”“Ah, you’ll get used to it in time, Oliver,” said Sowerberry.“Nothing when you are used to it, my boy.”Oliver wondered, in his own mind, whether it had taken a verylong time to get Mr. Sowerberry used to it. But he thought it betternot to ask the question; and walked back to the shop, thinkingover all he had seen and heard.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver TwistChapter 6Oliver, Being Goaded By The Taunts Of Noah,Rouses Into Action, And Rather Astonishes Him.The month’s trial over, Oliver was formally apprenticed. Itwas a nice sickly season just at this time. In commercialphrase, coffins were looking up; and, in the course of a fewweeks, Oliver acquired a great deal of experience. The success ofMr. Sowerberry’s ingenious speculation exceeded even his mostsanguine hopes. The oldest inhabitants recollected no period atwhich measles had been so prevalent, or so fatal to infantexistence; and many were the mournful processions which littleOliver headed, in a hat-band reaching down to his knees, to theindescribable admiration and emotion of all the mothers in thetown. As Oliver accompanied his master in most of his adultexpeditions, too, in order that he might acquire that equanimity ofdemeanour and full command of nerve which are essential to afinished undertaker, he had many opportunities of observing thebeautiful resignation and fortitude with which some strong-minded people bear their trials and losses.For instance; when Sowerberry had an order for the burial ofsome rich old lady or gentleman, who was surrounded by a greatnumber of nephews and nieces, who had been perfectlyinconsolable during the previous illness, and whose grief had beenwholly irrepressible even on the most public occasions, they wouldbe as happy among themselves as need be—quite cheerful andcontented—conversing together with as much freedom and gaiety,Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistas if nothing whatever had happened to disturb them. Husbands,too, bore the loss of their wives with the most heroic calmness.Wives, again, put on weeds for their husbands, as if, so far fromgrieving in the garb of sorrow, they had made up their minds torender it as becoming and attractive as possible. It was observable,too, that ladies and gentlemen who were in passions of anguishduring the ceremony of internment, recovered almost as soon asthey reached home, and became quite composed before the tea-drinking 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 ofthese good people, I cannot, although I am his biographer,undertake to affirm with any degree of confidence; but I can mostdistinctly say, that for many months he continued meekly tosubmit to the domination and ill-treatment of Noah Claypole, whoused him far worse than before, now that his jealousy was routedby seeing the new boy promoted to the black stick and hat-band,while he, the old one, remained stationary in the muffin-cap andleathers. Charlotte treated him ill, because Noah did; and Mrs.Sowerberry was his decided enemy, because Mr. Sowerberry wasdisposed to be his friend; so, between these three on one side, anda glut of funerals on the other, Oliver was not altogether ascomfortable as the hungry pig was, when he was shut up, bymistake, in the grain department of a brewery.And now, I come to a very important passage in Oliver’s history;for I have to record an act, slight and unimportant perhaps inappearance, but which indirectly produced a material change inall his future prospects and proceedings.One day, Oliver and Noah had descended into the kitchen atCharles Dickens ElecBook Classics