Stranica 108 [108]
do want for something, now? Why, you
little wretch m
“Stop, Mrs. Mann, stop!” said the
authority. ‘ Like what, sir; eh?’
6 ] should like,” faltered the child, “ if
somebody that can write, would put a few
words down for me on a piece of paper,
and fold it up, and seal it, and keep it for
me after [ am laid in the ground.”
c Why, what does the boy mean?" ex¬
claimed Mr. Bumble, on whom the earn¬
est manner and wan aspect of the child
had made some impression, accustomed
as he was to such things. " What do
you mean, sir?"
c]! should like,’ said the child, “to
leave my dear love to poor Oliver Twist,
and to let him know how often I have sat
by myself and cried to think of his wan¬
dering about in the dark nights with no¬
body to help him; and I should like to
tell him,” said the child, pressing his
small hands together, and speaking with
great fervour, “that I was glad to die
when I was very young; for, perhaps, if
I lived to be a man, and grew old, my
little sister, who is in heaven, might for¬
get me, or be unlike me; and it would be
so much happier if we were both children
there together.”
Mr. Bumble surveyed the little speaker
from head to foot with indescribable as¬
tonishment, and, turning to his compan¬
ion, said, “ They "re all in one story, Mrs.
Mann. That out-dacious Oliver has de¬
moralised them all!"
6 [ couldn’t have believed it, sir!" said
Mrs. Mann, holding up her hands, and
looking malignantly at Dick. “I never
see such a hardened little wretch !”
“Take him away, ma’am!” said Mr.
Bumble imperiously. “This must be
stated to the board, Mrs. Mann.”
‘| hope the gentlemen will understand
that it isn’t my fault, sir?" said Mrs,
Mann, whimpering pathetically.
“They shall understand that, ma’am;
they shall be acquainted with the true
state of the case,” said Mr. Bumble pomp¬
ously. “ There; take him away. I can’t
oear the sight of him.”
Dick was immediately taken away, and
lucked up in the coal-cellar; and Mr.
Bumble shortly afterwards took himself
away to prepare for his journey.
At six o’clock next morning, Mr. Bum¬
bie having exchanged his cocked-hat for
a round one, and encased his person in a
blue great-coat with a.cape to it, took his
place on the outside of the coach, accom¬
was disputed, with whom, in due course
of time, he arrived in London, having
experienced no other crosses by the way
than those which originated in the per¬
verse behaviour of the two paupers, who
persisted in shivering, and complaining
of the cold in a manner which, Mr. Bum¬
ble declared, caused his teeth to chatter
in his head, and made him feel quite un¬
comfortable, although he had a great¬
coat on.
Having disposed of these evil minded
persons for the night, Mr. Bumble sat
himself down in the house at which the
coach stopped, and took a temperate din¬
ner of steaks, oyster-sauce, and porter;
putting a glass of hot gin-and-water on
the mantel-piece, he drew his chair to the
fire, and, with sundry moral reflections on
the too-prevalent sin of discontent and
complaining, he then composed himself
comfortably to read the paper.
The very first paragraph upon which
Mr. Bumble’s eyes rested, was the follow¬
ing advertisement.
“ FIVE GUINEAS REWARD.
“ Whereas, a young boy, named Oli¬
ver Twist, absconded, or was enticed, on
Thursday evening last, from his home at
Pentonville, and has not since been heard
of; the above reward will be paid to any
person who will give such information as
may lead to the discovery of the said Oli¬
ver Twist, or tend to throw any light
upon his previous history, in which the
advertiser is for many reasons warmly
interested.” )
And then followed a full description of
Oliver’s dress, person, appearance, and
disappearance, with the name and address
of Mr. Brownlow at full length.
Mr. Bumble opened his eyes, read the
advertisement slowly and carefully three
several times, and in something more
than five minutes was on his way to Pen¬
tonville, having actually in his excite¬
ment left the glass of hot gin-and-water
untasted on the mantel-piece.
«Ts Mr. Brownlow at home ?” inquired
Mr. Bumble of the girl who opened the
door.
To this inquiry the girl returned the
not uncommon, but rather evasive reply
of, * I don’t know—where do you come
from ?”
Mr. Bumble no sooner uttered Oliver's
name in explanation of his errand, than
Mrs. Bedwin, who had been listening at
sage in a breathless state.
“Come in—come in,” said the old