Oldal 108 [108]
OCR
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?" exclaimed Mr. Bumble, on whom the earnest 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 wandering about in the dark nights with nobody 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 forget 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 astonishment, and, turning to his companion, said, “ They "re all in one story, Mrs. Mann. That out-dacious Oliver has demoralised 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 pompously. “ 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. Bumbie 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 perverse behaviour of the two paupers, who persisted in shivering, and complaining of the cold in a manner which, Mr. Bumble declared, caused his teeth to chatter in his head, and made him feel quite uncomfortable, although he had a greatcoat 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 dinner 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 following advertisement. “ FIVE GUINEAS REWARD. “ Whereas, a young boy, named Oliver 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 Oliver 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 Pentonville, having actually in his excitement 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
