Stranica 58 [58]
oz
of their wives with the most heroic calm¬
ness; and wives, again, put on weeds for
their husbands, as if, so far from grieving
in the garb of sorrow, they had made up
their minds to render it as becoming and
attractive as possible. It was observable,
too, that ladies and gentlemen who were
in passions of anguish during the cere¬
“mony of interment, recovered almost as
soon as they 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 égy ate: to re¬
sionation by the example of these
A I + Meat although I am his bio¬
grapher, undertake to affirm with any
degree of confidence; but I can most dis¬
tinctly say, that for many months he con¬
tinued meekly to submit to the domination
and ill-treatment of Noah Claypole, who
used him far worse than ever, now that
his jealousy was roused by seeing the new
boy promoted to the black stick and hat¬
band, while he, the old one, remained sta¬
tionary in the muffin-cap and leathers.
Charlotte treated him badly because Noah
did; and Mrs. Sowerberry was his decided
enemy because Mr. Sowerberry was dis¬
posed to be his friend; so, between these
three on one side, and a glut of funerals
on the other, Oliver was not altogether as
comfortable as the hungry pig was, when
he was shut up by mistake 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 per¬
haps in appearance, but which indirectly
produced a most material change in all his
future prospects and proceedings. .
One day Oliver and Noah had descended
into the kitchen, at the usual dinner-hour,
to banquet upon a small joint of mutton—
a pound and a half of the worst end of the
neck; when, Charlotte being called out
of the way, there ensued a brief interval
of time, which Noah Cla
gry and vicious, considered he could not
possibly devote to a worthier purpose than
ageravating and tantalising young Oliver
Twist.
Intent upon this innocent amusement,
pulled Oliver’s hair, and twitched his ears,
and expressed his opinion that he was a
‘‘ sneak,” and furthermore announced his
ever that desirable event should take place,
and entered upon various other topics of
petty annoyance, like a malicious and ill¬
conditioned charity-boy as he was. But,
none of these taunts producing the desired
effect of making Oliver cry, Noah at¬
tempted to be more facetious still, and in
this attempt did what many small wits,
with far greater reputations than Noah
notwithstanding, do to this day when ee
want to be funny; he got rather personal.
* Work’us,” said Noah, “how’s your
mother ?”
“ She’s dead,” replied Oliver; " don’t
you say anything about her to me!”
Oliver’s colour rose as he said this; he
breathed quickly, and there was a curious
working of the mouth and nostrils, which
Mr. Claypole thought must be the imme¬
diate precursor of a violent fit of crying.
Under this impression he returned to the
charge.
c What did she die of, work"us ?? said
Noah. ;
“Of a broken heart, some of our old
nurses told me,” replied Oliver, more as
if he were talking to himself than answer¬
ing Noah. “I think I know what it must
be to die of that?”
“Tol de rol lol lol, right fol lairy,
work’us,” said Noah, as a tear rolled
down Oliver’s cheek. ‘ What’s set you
a snivelling now ?”
“ Not you,” replied Oliver, hastily brush¬
ing the tear away. § Don’t think it.”
6 Oh, not me, eh?’ sneered Noah.
6 No, not you,” replied Oliver, sharply.
“There; that’s enough. Don’t say any¬
thing more to me about her; you’d better
notre |
“ Better not!” exclaimed Noah. “ Well!
better not! work’us; don’t be impudent.
Your mother, too! she was a nice "un,
she was. Oh, Lor!” And here Noah
nodded his head expressively, and curled
up as much of his small red nose as mus¬
cular action could collect together for the
occasion. ék
(c Ver know, work’us,” continued Noah,
emboldened by Oliver silence, and speak¬
ing in a jeering tone of affected pity—of
tones the most annoying—* Yer know,
work’us, it carn’t be helped now, and of
|
and pity yer very much. But yer must
know, work’us, your mother was a regular
right-down bad "un." |
“What did you say?’ inquired Oliver,
looking up very quickly. _
“A regular right-down bad "un, work¬
"us," replied Noah, coolly; “and it’s a
great deal better, work’us, that she died
when she did, or else she’d have been