Oldal 46 [46]
22 OLIVER
TWIST.
if he wanted to be apprenticed, that he
should like it very much indeed; both of
which injunctions Oliver promised to obey,
the more readily as Mr. Bumble threw in
a gentle hint, that if he failed in either
particular, there was no telling what
would be done to him. When they ar¬
little room by himself, and admonished by
Mr. Bumble to stay there, until he came
back to fetch him.
There the boy remained with a palpi¬
tating heart for half an hour, at the expi¬
ration of which time Mr. Bumble thrust
in his head, unadorned with the cocked
hat, and said aloud,
s Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the
gentleman.” As Mr. Bumble said this,
he put on a grim and threatening look,
and added in a low voice, " Mind what I
told you, you young rascal.”
Oliver stared innocently in Mr. Bum¬
ble’s face at this somewhat contradictory
style of address; but that gentleman pre¬
vented his offering any remark thereupon,
by leading him at once into an adjoining
room, the door of which was open. It
was a large room with a great window ;
with powdered heads, one of whom was
reading the newspaper, while the other
was perusing, with the aid of a pair of
tortoise-shell spectacles, a small piece of
parchment which lay before him. Mr.
Limbkins was standing in front of the
desk, on one side; and Mr. Gamfield,
with a partially washed face, on the other ;
while two or three bluff-looking men in
top-boots were lounging about.
The old gentleman with the spectacles
gradually dozed off, over the little bit of
parchment; and there was a short pause
after Oliver had been stationed by Mr.
Bumble in front of the desk.
“This is the boy, your worship,” said
Mr. Bumble.
The old gentleman who was reading
the newspaper raised his head for a mo¬
ment, and pulled the other old gentleman
hy the sleeve, whereupon the last-men¬
uoned old gentleman woke up.
‘Qh, is this the boy?" said the old gen¬
tleman.
«This is him, sir,” replied Mr. Bumble.
“ Bow to the magistrate, my dear.”
Oliver roused himself, and made his
best obeisance. He had been wondering,
with his eyes fixed on the magistrate’s
powder, whether all boards were born with
that white stuff on their heads, and
were beards from thenceforth, on that
uccount,
“ Well,” said the old gentleman, “TI sup¬
pose he’s fond of chimney-sweeping ?”
He dotes on it, your worship,” replied
Bumble, giving Oliver a sly pinch, to inti¬
mate that he had better not say he didn’t.
“And he will be a sweep, will he?”
inquired the old gentleman.
“If we was to bind him to any other
on to-morrow, he’d run away simulta¬
neously, your worship,” replied Bumble.
*“ And this man that’s to be his master,
— you, sir,—you’ll treat him well, and
feed him, and do all that sort of thing —
will you ?” said the old gentleman. |
| When I says I will, I means I will,”
replied Mr. Gamfield doggedly.
“You ’re a rough speaker, my friend,
but you look an honest, open-hearted man,”
said the old gentleman, turning his spec¬
tacles in the direction of the candidate for
Oliver’s premium, whose villanous coun¬
tenance was a regular stamped receipt for
cruelty. But the magistrate was half
‘blind, and half childish, so he couldn’t
reasonably be expected to discern what
| other people did.
“T hope I am, sir,” said Mr. Gamfield
with an ugly leer.
6] have no doubt you are, my friend,”
replied the old gentleman, fixing his spec¬
tacles more firmly on his nose, and look¬
ng about him for the inkstand.
t was the critical moment of Oliver’s
fate. Ifthe inkstand had been where the
old gentleman thought it was, he would
| have dipped his pen into it and signed the
indentures, and Oliver would have been
straightway hurried off. But, as it chanced
to be immediately under his nose, it fol¬
lowed as a matter of course that he looked
all over his desk for it, without finding it ;
| and happening in the course of his search
| to look straight before him, his gaze en¬
countered the pale and terrified face of
Oliver Twist, who, despite of all the ad¬
| monitory looks and pinches of Bumble,
was regarding the very repulsive counte¬
nance of his future master with a mingled
expression of horror and fear, too palpable
to be mistaken even by a half-blind magis¬
trate.
The old gentleman stopped, laid down
his pen, and looked from Oliver to Mr.
Limbkins, who attempted to take snuff
with a cheerful and unconcerned aspect.
“My boy,” said the old gentleman,
leaning over the desk. Oliver started at
the sound,—he might be excused for doin
so, for the words were kindly said, an
strange sounds frighten one. He trembled
violently, and burst into tears.
| My boy,” said the old gentleman,