at the fireplace, and sometimes at the door, making believe that hewas staring with all his might into shop-windows. At such times,he would look constantly round him, for fear of thieves, and wouldkeep slapping all his pockets in turn, to see that he hadn’t lostanything, in such a very funny and natural manner, that OliverCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistlaughed till the tears ran down his face. All this time, the two boysfollowed him closely about; getting out of his sight, so nimbly,every time he turned round that it was impossible to follow theirmotions. At last, the Dodger trod upon his toes, or ran upon hisboot accidentally, while Charley Bates stumbled up against himbehind; and in that one moment they took from him, with the mostextraordinary rapidity, snuff-box, note-case, watch-guard, chain,shirt-pin, pocket-handkerchief—even the spectacle-case. If the oldgentleman felt a hand in any of his pockets, he cried out where itwas; and then the game began all over again.When this game had been played a great many times, a coupleof young ladies called to see the young gentlemen; one of whomwas named Bet, and the other Nancy. They wore a good deal ofhair, not very neatly turned up behind, and were rather untidyabout the shoes and stockings. They were not exactly pretty,perhaps; but they had a great deal of colour in their faces, andlooked quite stout and hearty. Being remarkably free andagreeable in their manners, Oliver thought them very nice girlsindeed. As there is no doubt they were.These visitors stopped a long time. Spirits were produced, inconsequence of one of the young ladies complaining of a coldnessin her inside; and the conversation took a very convivial andimproving turn. At length, Charley Bates expressed his opinionthat it was time to pad the hoof. This, it occurred to Oliver, mustbe French for going out; for, directly afterwards, the Dodger, andCharley, and the two young ladies, went away together, havingbeen kindly furnished by the amiable old Jew with money tospend.“There, my dear,” said Fagin. “That’s a pleasant life, isn’t it?Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver TwistThey have gone out for the day.”“Have they done work, sir?” inquired Oliver.“Yes,” said the Jew; “that is, unless they should unexpectedlycome across any, when they are out; and they won’t neglect it, ifthey do, my dear, depend upon it. Make ’em your models, my dear.Make ’em your models,” tapping the fire-shovel on the hearth toadd force to his words; “do everything they bid you, and take theiradvice in all manners—especially the Dodger’s, my dear. He’ll be agreat man himself, and will make you one, too, if you take patternby 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 feeling it; as you sawthem do, when we were at play this morning.”Oliver held up the bottom of the pocket with one hand, as hehad seen the Dodger hold it, and drew the handkerchief lightly outof it with the other.“Is it gone?” cried the Jew.“Here it is, sir,” said Oliver, showing it in his hand.“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 shilling for you. If you go on, in this way, you’ll be thegreatest man of the time. And now come here, and I’ll show youhow to take the marks out of the handkerchiefs.”Oliver wondered what picking the old gentleman’s pocket inplay had to do with his chances of being a great man. But, thinkingthat the Jew, being so much his senior, must know best, hefollowed him quietly to the table, and was soon deeply involved inhis new study.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver TwistChapter 10Oliver Becomes Better Acquainted With TheCharacters Of His New Associates; And PurchasesExperience At A High Price—Being A Short ButVery Important Chapter In This HistoryFor many days, Oliver remained in the Jew’s room, pickingthe marks out of the pocket-handkerchiefs (of which agreat number were brought home), and sometimes takingpart in the game already described; which the two boys and theJew played, regularly, every morning. At length, he began tolanguish for fresh air, and took many occasions of earnestlyentreating the old gentleman to allow him to go out to work, withhis 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’scharacter. Whenever the Dodger or Charley Bates came home atnight, empty-handed, he would expatiate with great vehemence onthe misery of idle and lazy habits; and would enforce upon themthe necessity of an active life, by sending them supperless to bed.On one occasion, indeed, he even went so far as to knock themboth down a flight of stairs; but this was carrying out his virtuousprecepts to an unusual extent.At length, one morning, Oliver obtained the permission he hadso 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 hisCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistassent; but, whether they were or no, he told Oliver he might go,and placed him under the joint guardianship of Charley Bates, andhis friend the Dodger.The three boys sallied out; the Dodger with his coat sleevestucked up, and his hat cocked, as usual; Master Bates saunteringalong with his hands in his pockets; and Oliver between them,wondering where they were going, and what branch ofmanufacture he would be instructed in, first.The pace at which they went, was such a very lazy, ill-lookingsaunter, that Oliver soon began to think his companions weregoing to deceive the old gentleman, by not going to work at all.The Dodger had a vicious propensity, too, of pulling the caps fromthe heads of small boys and tossing them down areas; whileCharley Bates exhibited some very loose notions concerning therights of property, by pilfering divers apples and onions from thestalls at the kennel sides, and thrusting them into pockets whichwere so surprisingly capacious, that they seemed to undermine hiswhole suit of clothes in every direction. These things looked sobad, that Oliver was on the point of declaring his intention ofseeking his way back, in the best way he could; when his thoughtswere suddenly directed into another channel, by a very mysteriouschange of behaviour on the part of the Dodger.They were just emerging from a narrow court not far from theopen square in Clerkenwell, which is yet called, by some strangeperversion of terms. “The Green,” when the Dodger made asudden stop; and, laying his finger on his lip, drew his companionsback again, with the greatest caution and circumspection.“What’s the matter?” demanded Oliver.“Hush!” replied the Dodger. “Do you see that old cove at theCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twistbook-stall?”“The old gentleman over the way?” said Oliver. “Yes, I seehim.”“He’ll do,” said the Dodger.“A prime plant,” observed Master Charley Bates.Oliver looked from one to the other, with the greatest surprise;but he was not permitted to make any inquiries; for the two boyswalked stealthily across the road, and slunk close behind the oldgentleman towards whom his attention had been directed. Oliverwalked a few paces after them; and, not knowing whether toadvance or retire, stood looking on in silent amazement.The old gentleman was a very respectable-looking personage,with a powdered head and gold spectacles. He was dressed in abottle-green coat with a black velvet collar; wore white trousers;and carried a smart bamboo cane under his arm. He had taken upa book from the stall, and there he stood, reading away, as hard asif he were in his elbow-chair, in his own study. It is very possiblethat he fancied himself there, indeed; for it was plain, from hisabstraction, that he saw not the bookstall, nor the street, nor theboys, nor, in short, anything but the book itself; which he wasreading straight through, turning over the leaf when he got to thebottom of a page, beginning at the top line of the next one, andgoing 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 eyelids as wide open as they would possibly go,to see the Dodger plunge his hand into the old gentleman’s pocket,and draw from thence a handkerchief! To see him hand the sameto Charley Bates; and finally to behold them, both, running awayround the corner at full speed!Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver TwistIn an instant the whole mystery of the handkerchiefs, and thewatches, and the jewels, and the Jew, rushed upon the boy’s mind.He stood, for a moment, with the blood so tingling through all hisveins from terror, that he felt as if he were in a burning fire; then,confused and frightened, he took to his heels; and, not knowingwhat he did, made off as fast as he could lay his feet to the ground.This was all done in a minute’s space. In the very instant whenOliver began to run, the old gentleman, putting his hand to hispocket, and missing his handkerchief, turned sharp round. Seeingthe boy scudding away at such a rapid pace, he very naturallyconcluded 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 person who raised thehue-and-cry. The Dodger and Master Bates, unwilling to attractpublic attention by running down the open street, had merelyretired into the very first doorway round the corner. They nosooner heard the cry, and saw Oliver running, than, guessingexactly how the matter stood, they issued forth with greatpromptitude; and, shouting “Stop thief!” too, joined in the pursuitlike good citizens.Although Oliver had been brought up by philosophers, he wasnot theoretically acquainted with the beautiful axiom that self-preservation is the first law of nature. If he had been, perhaps hewould have been prepared for this. Not being prepared, however,it alarmed him the more; so away he went like the wind, with theold gentleman and the two boys roaring and shouting behind him.“Stop thief! Stop thief!” There is magic in the sound. Thetradesman leaves his counter, and the carman his wagon; thebutcher throws down his tray; the baker his basket; the milkmanCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 100his pail; the errand-boy his parcels; the schoolboy his marbles; thepavior his pickaxe; the child his battledore. Away they run, pellmell, helter-skelter, slap-dash; tearing, yelling, screaming,knocking down the passengers, as they turn the corners, rousingup the dogs, and astonishing the fowls; and streets, squares, andcourts re-echo with the sound.“Stop thief! Stop thief!” The cry is taken up by a hundredvoices, and the crowd accumulate at every turning. Away they fly,splashing through the mud, and rattling along the pavements; upgo the windows, out run the people, onward bear the mob, a wholeaudience desert Punch in the very thickest of the plot, and, joiningthe rushing throng, swell the shout, and lend fresh vigour to thecry, “Stop thief! Stop thief!”“Stop thief! Stop thief!” There is a passion for huntingsomething deeply implanted in the human breast. One wretchedbreathless child, panting with exhaustion, terror in his looks,agony in his eyes, large drops of perspiration streaming down hisface, strains every nerve to make head upon his pursuers; and asthey follow on his track, and gain upon him every instant, they hailhis decreasing strength with still louder shouts, and whoop andscream for joy. “Stop thief!” Ay, stop him for God’s sake, were itonly in mercy!Stopped at last! A clever blow! He is down upon the pavement;and the crowd eagerly gather round him: each newcomer, jostlingand struggling with the others to catch a glimpse. “Stand aside!”“Give him a little air!” “Nonsense! he doesn’t deserve it.” “Where’sthe gentleman?” “Here he is, coming down the street.” “Makeroom there for the gentleman!” “Is this the boy, sir?” “Yes.”Oliver lay, covered with mud and dust, and bleeding from theCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 101mouth, looking wildly round the heap of faces that surroundedhim, when the old gentleman was officiously dragged and pushedinto the circle by the foremost of the pursuers.“Yes,” said the gentleman, “I am afraid it is the boy.”“Afraid!” murmured the crowd. “That’s a good ’un!”“Poor fellow!” said the gentleman, “he has hurt himself.”“I did that, sir,” said a great, lubberly fellow, stepping forward;“and preciously I cut my knuckle agin’ his mouth. I stopped him,sir.”The fellow touched his hat with a grin, expecting something forhis pains; but the old gentleman, eyeing him with an expression ofdislike, looked anxiously round, as if he contemplated runningaway himself; which it is very possible he might have attempted todo, and thus have afforded another chase, had not a police-officer(who is generally the last person to arrive in such cases) at thatmoment made his way through the crowd, and seized Oliver bythe collar.“Come, get up,” said the man roughly.“It wasn’t me, indeed, sir. Indeed, indeed, it was two otherboys,” said Oliver, clasping his hands passionately, and lookinground. “They are here somewhere.”“Oh, no, they ain’t,” said the officer. He meant this to beironical, but it was true besides; for the Dodger and Charley Bateshad 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 officer, tearing his jackethalf off his back, in proof thereof. “Come, I know you; it won’t do.Will you stand upon your legs, you young devil?”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 102Oliver, who could hardly stand, made a shift to raise himself onhis feet, and was at once lugged along the streets by the jacketcollar, at a rapid pace. The gentleman walked on with them by theofficer’s side; and as many of the crowd as could achieve the feat,got a little ahead, and stared back at Oliver from time to time. Theboys shouted in triumph; and on they went.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 103Chapter 11Treats Of Mr. Fang The Police Magistrate; AndFurnishes A Slight Specimen Of His Mode OfAdministering Justice.The offence had been committed within the district, andindeed in the immediate neighbourhood of, a verynotorious metropolitan police-office. The crowd had onlythe satisfaction of accompanying Oliver through two or threestreets, and down a place called Mutton Hill, when he was ledbeneath a low archway, and up a dirty court, into this dispensaryof summary justice, by the back way. It was a small paved yardinto which they turned; and here they encountered a stout manwith a bunch of whiskers on his face, and a bunch of keys in hishand.“What’s the matter now?” said the man carelessly.“A young fogle-hunter,” replied the man who had Oliver incharge.“Are you the party that’s been robbed, sir?” inquired the manwith the keys.“Yes, I am,” replied the old gentleman; “but I am not sure thatthis boy actually took the handkerchief. I—I would rather notpress the case.”“Must go before the magistrate now, sir,” replied the man. “HisWorship will be disengaged in half a minute. Now, young gallows!”This was an invitation for Oliver to enter through a door whichhe unlocked as he spoke, and which led into a stone cell. Here heCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 104was 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 Mondaymorning; and it had been tenanted by six drunken people, whohad been locked up, elsewhere, since Saturday night. But this islittle. In our station-houses, men and women are every nightconfined on the most trivial charges—the word is worth noting—indungeons, compared with which those in Newgate, occupied bythe most atrocious felons, tried, found guilty, and under sentenceof death, are palaces. Let any one who doubts this, compare thetwo.The old gentleman looked almost as rueful as Oliver when the