Page 153 [153]
109
and beholding a light shining through the
glass-window of the little parlour at the
back of the shop, he made bold to peep in
and see what was going forward; and,
when he saw what was going forward, he
was not a little surprised.
The cloth was laid for supper, and the
table was strewed with bread and butter,
plates and glasses, a pewter-pot, and a
wine-bottle. At the upper end of the
table Mr. Noah Claypole lolled negligently
in an easy-chair with his legs thrown over
one of the arms, an open clasp-knife in
one hand, and a mass of buttered bread
in the ether; close beside him stood
Charlotte, opening oysters from a barrel,
which Mr. Claypole condescended to
swallow with remarkable avidity.. A more
than ordinary redness in the region of the
young gentleman’s nose, and a kind of fixed
wink, in his right eye, denoted that he was
in a slight degree intoxicated ; and these
symptoms were confirmed by the intense
relish with which he took his oysters, for
which nothing but a strong appreciation
of their cooling properties in cases of
internal fever could have sufficiently ac¬
counted. |
s Here’sa delicious fat one, Noah dear!”
said Charlotte; “try him, do; only this
“ What a delicious thing is a oyster !”
remarked Mr. Claypole after he had
swallowed it. “ What a pity it is a number
of "em should ever make you feel un¬
comfortable, isn’t it, Charlotte ?”
“ It’s quite a cruelty,” said Charlotte.
“So it is," acquiesced Mr. Claypole.
* Ain't yer fond of oysters?” »
s Not over-much,” replied Charlotte.
“T like to see you eat "em, Noah dear,
better than eating them myself.”
“ Lor’! said Noah refiectively ; how
queer !”
“ Have another?’ said Charlotte.
“ Here’s one with such a beautiful, deli¬
cate beard !” |
“T can’t manage any more,” said Noah.
“T’m very sorry. Come here, Charlotte,
and I — yer.”
c What!’ exclaimed Mr. Bumble,
bursting into the room. “ Say that again,
sir.
Charlotte uttered a scream, and hid her
face in her apron; while Mr. Claypole,
without making any further change in his
position than suffering his legs to reach
the ground, gazed at the beadle in drunk¬
en terror.
“Say it in, you vile, owdacious
fellow !" said Mr. Bumble. " How dare
you mention such a thing, sir? and how
dare you encourage him, you insolent
minx? Kiss her!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble
in strong indignation. “ Faugh!”
fő A I didn’t anne to Ar it!” said —— |
ubbering. ‘ She’s always a-kissmg o
me, eh I like it or not.”
“ Oh, Noah !” cried Charlotte reproach¬
fully.
6 Yer are, yer know yer are!” retorted
Noah. ‘She’s always a-doing of it, Mr.
Bumble, sir; she chucks me under the
chins please sir, and makes all manner of
ove !”
c Silence!" cried. Mr. Bumble sternly.
c Take yourself down stairs, ma’am!
Noah, you shut up the shop, and say an¬
other word till your master comes home
at your peril; and, when he does come
home, tell him that Mr. Bumble said he
breakfast to-morrow morning. Do you
hear, sir? Kissing!” cried Mr. Bumble,
holding up his hands. “ The sin and
wickedness of the lower orders in this
porochial district is frightful; if parha¬
ment don’t take their abominable courses
under consideration, this country "s ruined,
and the character of the peasantry gone
for ever!" With these words the beadle
strode, with a lofty and gloomy air, from
the undertaker’s premises, |
And now that we have accompanied
him so far on his road home, and have
made all necessary preparations for the
old woman’s funeral, let us set on foot a
few inquiries after young Oliver Twist,
and ascertain whether he be still lying in
the ditch where Toby Crackit left him. ¬