Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.docx
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Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.docx
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OliverTwistbyCharlesDickens
OliverTwist
by
CharlesDickens
1Oliver’searlylife
OliverTwistwasborninaworkhouse,andwhenhearrivedinthishardworld,itwasverydoubtfulwhetherhewouldlivebeyondthefirstthreeminutes.Helayonahardlittlebedandstruggledtostartbreathing.
Oliverfoughthisfirstbattlewithoutmuchassistancefromthetwopeoplepresentathisbirth.Onewasanoldwoman,whowasnearlyalwaysdrunk,andtheotherwasabusylocaldoctor,whowasnotpaidenoughtobeveryinterestedinOliver’ssurvival.Afterall,deathwasacommoneventintheworkhouse,whereonlythepoorandhomelesslived.
However,Olivermanagedtodrawhisfirstbreath,andthenannouncedhisarrivaltotherestoftheworkhousebycryingloudly.Hismotherraisedherpaleyoungfacefromthepillowandwhispered,“Letmeseethechild,anddie.”
Thedoctorturnedawayfromthefire,wherehehadbeenwarminghishands.“Youmustnottalkaboutdyingyet,”hesaidtoherkindly.Hegaveherthechildtohold.Lovingly,shekissedthebabyonitsforeheadwithhercoldwhitelips,thenstaredwildlyaroundtheroom,fellback-anddied.“Poordear!
”saidthenurse,hurriedlyputtingagreenglassbottlebackinthepocketofherlongskirt.
Thedoctorbegantoputonhiscoat.“Thebabyisweakandwillprobablyhavedifficulties,”hesaid.“Ifso,giveitalittlemilktokeepitquiet.”Thenhelookedatthedeadwoman.“Themotherwasagood-lookinggirl.Wheredidshecomefrom?
”
“Shewasbroughtherelastnight,”repliedtheoldwoman.“Shewasfoundlyinginthestreet.She’dwalkedsomedistance,judgingbyhershoes,whichwereworntopieces.Whereshecamefrom,whereshewasgoingto,orwhathernamewas,nobodyknows.”
Thedoctorliftedthegirl’slefthand.“Theoldstory,”hesaidsadly,shakinghishead.“Noweddingring,Isee.Ah!
Goodnight.”
AndsoOliverwasleftwithonlythedrunkennurse.Withoutclothes,underhisfirstblanket,hecouldhavebeenthechildofakingorabeggar.Butwhenthewomandressedhimlaterinroughcottonclothes,yellowwithage,helookedexactlywhathewas-anorphaninaworkhouse,readyforalifeofmisery,hunger,andneglect.
Olivercriedloudly.Ifhecouldhaveknownthathewasaworkhouseorphan,perhapshewouldhavecriedevenmoreloudly.
Therewasnoonetolookafterthebabyintheworkhouse,soOliverwassenttoaspecial“babyfarm’nearby.There,heandthirtyotherchildrenrolledaroundthefloorallday,withouttheinconvenienceoftoomuchfoodortoomuchclothing.MrsMann,theoldwomanwho“lookedafter’them,wasveryexperienced.Sheknewwhatwasgoodforchildren,andafullstomachwasverydangeroustotheirhealth.Shealsoknewwhatwasgoodforherself,soshekeptforherownusethemoneythatshewasgivenforthechildren’sfood.Theboardresponsiblefortheorphanssometimescheckedonthehealthofthechildren,butTheyalwayssentthebeadle,akindoflocalpoliceman,toannouncetheirvisitthedaybefore.Sowhenevertheboardarrived,ofcourse,thechildrenwerealwaysneatandclean.
ThiswasthewayOliverwasbroughtup.Consequently,attheageofninehewasapale,thinchildandshortforhisage.ButdespitefrequentbeatingsbyMrsMann,hisspiritwasstrong,whichwasprobablythereasonwhyhemanagedtoreachtheageofnineatall.
OnOliver’sninthbirthday,MrBumblethebeadlecametothehousetoseeMrsMann.ThroughthefrontwindowMrs.Mannsawhimatthegate,andturnedquicklytothegirlwhoworkedwithher.
“Quick!
TakeOliverandthoseothersupstairstobewashed!
”shesaid.Thensheranouttounlockthegate.(Itwasalwayskeptlockedtopreventofficialvisitorswalkinginunexpectedly.)
“Ihavebusinesstotalkabout,”MrBumbletoldMrsMannasheenteredthehouse.Hewasabigfatman,oftenbad-tempered,andwasfullofself-importance.Hedidnotliketobekeptwaitingatalockedgate.
Mrs.Manntookhishatandcoat,placedachairforhim,andexpressedgreatconcernforhiscomfort.“You’vehadalongwalk,MrBumble’shesaid,“andyoumustbethirsty.”Shetookoutabottlefromthecupboard.
“No,thankyou,Mrs.Mann.Notadrop.”Hewavedthebottleaway.”
“Justalittledrop,MrBumble,withcoldwater,”saidMrs.Mannpersuasively.
Mr.Bumblecoughed.“Whatisit?
”heasked,lookingatthebottlewithinterest.
“Gin.Ikeepitforthechildren’smedicinedrink.”
“Yougivethechildrengin,MrsMann?
”askedMrBumble,watchingasshemixedhisdrink.
“Onlywithmedicine,sir.Idon’tliketoseethemsuffer.”
“You’reagoodwoman,MrsMann.”MrBumbledrankhalfhisglassimmediately.“I’lltelltheboardaboutyou.Now-thereasonwhyI’mhere.OliverTwistisnineyearsoldtoday.We’veneverbeenabletodiscoveranythingabouthisparents.”
“Thenhowdidhegethisname?
”
“Igaveittohim,”saidMrBumbleproudly.“Wefollowthealphabet.ThelastonewasanS-Swubble.ThenitwasT,sothisoneisTwist.ThenextonewillbeUnwin.Anyway,OliverTwistisnowoldenoughtoreturntotheworkhouse.Bringhimhere,please.”WhileMrsMannwenttogethim,MrBumblefinishedtherestofhisgin.
Oliver,hisfaceandhandsnowalmostclean,wasledintotheroom.
“Willyoucomealongwithme,Oliver?
”askedMrBumbleinaloudvoice.
OliverwasverygladtobefreeofMrsMann’sviolence,buthesaidnothingbecauseshewasangrilyshakingherfingerathim.However,asthegateclosedbehindOliver,heburstintotears.Hewasleavingbehindtheotherchildren,theonlyfriendshehad,andherealizedatthatmomenthowlonelyhewasintheworld.
MrBumblewalkedonwithlongsteps,withOliveronhisshortlittlelegsrunningbesidehim.Thefeelingofcontentmentproducedbygin-and-waterhadnowdisappeared,andthebeadlewasinabadmoodoncemore.
Backattheworkhouse,Oliverwastakentoseetheboard.Hestoodinfrontoftenfatmenwhoweresittingaroundatable.
“What’syourname,boy?
”askedaparticularlyfatmanwithaveryround,redface.
Oliverwasfrightenedatthesightofsomanypeople,andstartedtocry.
“Whyareyoucrying?
”
Thebeadlehithimontheback,andsonaturallyOlivercriedevenmore.
“Theboyisafool,”onememberoftheboardannounced.
“Youknowyouhavenofatherormother,”saidthefirstman,“andthatyouhavebeenbroughtupwithotherorphans?
”
“Yes,sir,”repliedOliver,cryingbitterly.
“Whyistheboycrying?
”repeatedtheotherman,puzzled.
“Youhavecomeheretobeeducated,”continuedthefatman,“soyouwillstartworkingheretomorrowatsixo’clock.”
Oliverwasledawaytoalargeroom,where,onaroughhardbed,hecriedhimselftosleep.
Theroomintheworkhousewheretheboyswerefedwasalargestonehall,andatoneendthemasterandtwowomenservedthefood.Thisconsistedofabowlofthinsoupthreetimesaday,withapieceofbreadonSundays.Theboysateeverythingandwerealwayshungry.Thebowlsneverneededwashing.TheboyspolishedthemwiththeirspoonsuntilTheyshone.Afterthreemonthsofthisslowstarvation,oneoftheboystoldtheothershewassohungrythatonenighthemighteattheboywhosleptnexttohim.Hehadawildhungryeye,andtheotherboysbelievedhim.Afteralongdiscussion,Theydecidedthatoneofthemshouldaskformorefoodaftersupperthatevening,andOliverwaschosen.
Theeveningarrived;thesoupwasserved,andthebowlswereemptyagaininafewseconds.Oliverwentuptothemaster,withhisbowlinhishand.Hefeltveryfrightened,butalsodesperatewithhunger.
“Please,sir,Iwantsomemore.”
Themasterwasafat,healthyman,butheturnedverypale.Helookedatthelittleboyinfrontofhimwithamazement.Nobodyelsespoke.
“What?
”heaskedatlast,inafaintvoice.
“Please,sir,”repliedOliver,“Iwantsomemore.”
Themasterhithimwiththeservingspoon,thenseizedOliver’sarmsandshoutedforthebeadle.Thebeadlecamequickly,heardthedreadfulnews,andimmediatelyrantotelltheboard.
“Heaskedformore?
”MrLimbkins,thefattestboardmember,askedinhorror.“Bumble-isthisreallytrue?
”
“Thatboywillbehanged!
”saidthemanwhoearlierhadcalledOliverafool.“YouseeifI’mnotright.”
Oliverwasledawaytobelockedup,andarewardwasofferedtoanybodywhowouldtakehimawayandusehimforwork.
2Oliver’sfirstjob
Oliverstayedaprisoneraloneinthedarkroomforaweek.Hecriedbitterlyallday,andwhenthelongnightcame,hespreadhislittlehandsoverhiseyestoshutoutthedarkness,andtriedtosleep.Hewasgivenfreezingwatertowashwith,andwasbeatendailybyMrBumbleinfrontofalltheotherboysinthehall,asawarningtothem.
OnedayMrBumblemetthelocalundertaker,MrSowerberry,outsidetheworkhouse.
“Doyouknowanybodywhowantstotrainaboyforwork,MrSowerberry?
”MrBumblepointedatthenoticeonthewallabovehim,whichofferedfivepoundstoanybodywhowouldtakeOliverTwistforwork.
MrSowerberryrubbedhischinandthoughtforawhile.“Ipayenoughforthepoorwithmytaxes,”hesaid,“sowhyshouldn’tIbeabletomakeuseoftheminmywork?
Yes,I’lltaketheboymyself.”
AndsotheboardagreedtosendOlivertoworkfortheundertaker.Thenecessarypapersweresigned.Oliver’ssmallpossessionswereputintoabrownpaperparcel,andhewasledtoMrSowerberry’shousebyMrBumble.AsTheywalkedalong,tearsbegantorundownOliver’sface.
“Whatisitthistime?
”askedMrBumbleimpatiently.“Don’tbesoungrateful.Thisgentlemanisgoingtolookafteryou.”
“It’sjustthatI’msolonely,sir!
”saidthechild.“Everybodyhatesme.Pleasedon’tbeangrywithme,sir!
”
Ev
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