Stranica 51 [51]
45
fixed the cocked-hat on again ; and, turning
to the undertaker, said in a calmer voice,
“ Well; what about the boy ?”
6 Oh!" replied the undertaker; “ why,
you know, Mr. Bumble, I pay a good deal
towards the poor’s rates.”
“Hem!” said Mr. Bumble. “ Well?"
6 Well,” replied the undertaker, “I
was thinking that if I pay so much towards
"em, I’ve aright to get as much out of
em asl can, Mr. Bumble; and so—and
so—I think I 711 take the boy myself.”
Mr. Bumble the undertaker by
the arm, and led him into the building.
Mr. Sowerberry was closeted with the
board for five minutes, and then it was
arranged that Oliver should go to him
that evening “upon liking,”—a phrase
which means, in the case of a parish ap¬
prentice, that if the master find, upon a
short trial, that he can get enough work
out of a boy without putting too much food
years, to do what he likes with.
“the gentlemen” that evening, and in¬
formed that he was to go that night as
general house-lad to a coffin-maker’s, and
that if he complained of his situation, or
ever came back tu the parish again, he
would be sent to sea, there to be drowned,
or knocked on the head, as the case might
be, he evinced so little emotion, that they
by common consent pronounced him a
hardened young rascal, and ordered Mr.
Bumble to remove him forthwith.
Now, although it was very natural that
the board, of all people in the world,
should feel in a great state of virtuous
astonishment and horror at the smallest
tokens of want of feeling on the part of
anybody, they were rather out, in this par¬
ticular instance. The simple fact was,
that Oliver, instead of possessing too little
feeling, possessed rather too much, and
was in a fair way of being reduced to a
state of brutal stupidity and sullenness for
life, by the ill usage he had received. He
heard the news of his destination in per¬
fect silence, and, having had his luggage
put into his hand,—which was not very
difficult to carry, inasmuch as it was all
comprised within the limits of a brown
paper parcel, about half a foot
three inches deep,—he pulled his cap over
his eyes, and once more attaching him¬
self to Mr. Bumble’s coat cuff, was led
away by that dignitary to a new scene of
suffering.
For some time Mr. Bumble drew Oliver
along, without notice or remark, for the
beadle _— his =" very erect, as a
beadle always should; and, it being a
windy day, little Oliver was completely
enshrouded by the skirts of Mr. Bumble’s
coat as they blew open, and disclosed to
ae advantage his flapped waistcoat and
b plush knee-breeches. As they drew
near to their destination, however, Mr.
Bumble thought it e ient to look down
and see that the boy was in good order for
inspection by his new master, which he
accordingly did, with a fit and becoming
air of gracious patronage.
“ Oliver!” said Mr. Bumble.
6 Yes, sir,” replied Oliver, in a low,
tremulous voice.
“Pull that cap off of your eyes, and
hold up your head, sir,”
Although Oliver did as he was desired
at once, and passed the back of his unoc¬
cupied hand briskly across his eyes, he
left a tear in them when he looked up at
his conductor. As Mr. Bumble gazed
sternly upon him, it rolled down his cheek.
It was followed by another, and another.
The child made a strong effort, but it was
an unsuccessful one; and, withdrawing
his other hand from Mr. Bumble’s, he co¬
vered his face with both, and wept till the
tears sprung out from between his thin
and bony fingers.
c Well!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble, stop¬
ping short, and darting at his little charge
a look of intense malignity,—* well, of all
the ungratefullest, and worst-disposed boy:
as ever I see, Oliver, you are th i
s No, no, sir,” sobbed Oliver, clinging
to the hand which held the well-known
cane; § no, no, sir; I will be indeed ;
indeed, indeed, I will, sir! Lam a very
little boy, sir; and it is so—so—”
“So what?" inquired Mr. Bumble in
amazement.
“So lonely, sir—so very lonely,” cried
the child. “Everybody hates me. Oh!
sir, don’t be cross to me. I feel as if I
had been cut here, sir, and it was all bleed¬
ing away ;” and the child beat his hand
upon his heart, and looked into his com¬
panion’s face with tears of real agony.
Mr. Bumble regarded Oliver’s piteous
and helpless look with some astonishment
for a few seconds, hemmed three or four
times in a husky manner, and after mut¬
tering something about “ that troublesome
cough,” bid Oliver dry his eyes, and be a
good boy ; and, once more taking his hand,
walked on with him in silence.
The undertaker had just put up the
shutters of his shop, and was making some
entries in his day-book by the light of a
most appropriately dismal eandie, when
Mr. Bumble entered.
tt ——