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第29章

oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第29章

小说: oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪)) 字数: 每页4000字

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dutiful letters home four times a year; that it brought the tears into 
her eyes to talk about them。 When the old lady had expatiated; a 
long time; on the excellences of her children; and the merits of her 
kind good husband besides; who had been dead and gone; poor 
dear soul! just six…and…twenty years; it was time to have tea。 After 
tea she began to teach Oliver cribbage; which he learned as 
quickly as she could teach; and at which game they played; with 
great interest and gravity; until it was time for the invalid to have 
some warm wine…and…water; with a slice of dry toast; and then to 
go cosily to bed。 

These were happy days; those of Oliver’s recovery。 Everything 
was so quiet; and neat; and orderly; everybody so kind and gentle; 
that after the noise and turbulence in the midst of which he had 
always lived; it seemed like heaven itself。 He was no sooner strong 
enough to put his clothes on; properly; than Mr。 Brownlow caused 
a complete new suit; and a new cap; and a new pair of shoes; to be 
provided for him。 As Oliver was told that he might do what he 
liked with the old clothes; he gave them to a servant who had been 
very kind to him and asked her to sell them to a Jew; and keep the 

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money for herself。 This she very readily did; and; as Oliver looked 
out of the parlour window; and saw the Jew roll them up in his bag 
and walk away he felt quite delighted to think that they were 
safely gone; and that there was now no possible danger of his ever 
being able to wear them again。 They were sad rags; to tell the 
truth; and Oliver had never had a new suit before。 

One evening; about a week after the affair of the picture; as he 
was sitting talking to Mrs。 Bedwin; there came a message down 
from Mr。 Brownlow; that if Oliver Twist felt pretty well; he should 
like to see him in his study; and talk to him a little while。 

“Bless us; and save us! Wash your hands; and let me part your 
hair nicely for you; child;” said Mrs。 Bedwin。 “Dear heart alive! If 
we had known he would have asked for you we would have put 
you a clean collar on; and made you as smart as sixpence!” 

Oliver did as the old lady bade him; and; although she lamented 
grievously; meanwhile; that there was not even time to crimp the 
little frill; that bordered his shirt collar; he looked so delicate and 
handsome; despite that important personal advantage; that she 
went so far as to say; looking at him with great complacency; from 
head to foot; that she really didn’t think it would have been 
possible; on the longest notice; to have made much difference in 
him for the better。 

Thus encouraged; Oliver tapped at the study door。 On Mr。 
Brownlow calling to him to come in; he found himself in a little; 
back room; quite full of books; with a window; looking into some 
pleasant little gardens。 There was a table drawn up before the 
window; at which Mr。 Brownlow was seated reading。 When he saw 
Oliver; he pushed the book away from him; and told him to come 
near the table; and sit down。 Oliver complied; marvelling where 

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Oliver Twist 139 

the people could be found to read such a great number of books as 
seemed to be written to make the world wiser。 Which is still a 
marvel to more experienced people than Oliver Twist; every day of 
their lives。 

“There are a good many books; are there not; my boy?” said 
Mr。 Brownlow; observing the curiosity with which Oliver surveyed 
the shelves that reached from the floor to the ceiling。 

“A great number; sir;” replied Oliver。 “I never saw so many。” 

“You shall read them; if you behave well;” said the old 
gentleman kindly; “and you will like that; better than looking at 
the outsides—that is; in some cases; because there are books of 
which the backs and covers are by far the best parts。” 

“I suppose they are those heavy ones; sir;” said Oliver; pointing 
to some large quartos; with a good deal of gilding about the 
binding。 

“Not always those;” said the old gentleman; patting Oliver on 
the head; and smiling as he did so; “there are other equally heavy 
ones; though of a much smaller size。 How should you like to grow 
up a clever man; and write books; eh?” 

“I think I would rather read them; sir;” replied Oliver。 

“What! wouldn’t you like to be a book…writer? said the old 
gentleman。 

Oliver considered a little while; and at last said; he should think 
it would be a much better thing to be a book…seller; upon which 
the old gentleman laughed heartily; and declared he had said a 
very good thing。 Which Oliver felt glad to have done; though he by 
no means knew what it was。 

“Well; well;” said the old gentleman; composing his features。 
“Don’t be afraid! We won’t make an author of you; while there’s an 

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honest trade to be learned; or brick…making to turn to。” 

“Thank you; sir;” said Oliver。 At the earnest manner of his 
reply; the old gentleman laughed again; and said something about 
a curious instinct; which Oliver; not understanding; paid no very 
great attention to。 

“Now;” said Mr。 Brownlow; speaking if possible in a kinder; but 
at the same time in a much more serious manner than Oliver had 
ever known him assume yet; “I want you to pay great attention; 
my boy; to what I am going to say。 I shall talk to you without any 
reserve because I am sure you are as well able to understand me; 
as many older persons would be。” 

“Oh; don’t tell me you are going to send me away; sir; pray!” 
exclaimed Oliver; alarmed at the serious tone of the old 
gentleman’s commencement。 “Don’t turn me out of doors to 
wander in the streets again。 Let me stay here; and be a servant。 
Don’t send me back to the wretched place I came from。 Have 
mercy upon a poor boy; sir!” 

“My dear child;” said the old gentleman; moved by the warmth 
of Oliver’s sudden appeal; “you need not be afraid of my deserting 
you; unless you give me cause。” 

“I never; never will; sir;” interposed Oliver。 

“I hope not;” rejoined the old gentleman。 “I do not think you 
ever will。 I have been deceived; before; in the objects whom I have 
endeavoured to benefit; but I feel strongly disposed to trust you; 
nevertheless; and I am more interested in your behalf than I can 
well account for; even to myself。 The persons on whom I have 
bestowed my dearest love; lie deep in their graves; but; although 
the happiness and delight of my life lie buried there too; I have not 
made a coffin of my heart; and sealed it up; for ever; on my best 

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affections。 Deep affliction has but strengthened and refined them。” 

As the old gentleman said this in a low voice; more to himself 
than to his companion; and as he remained silent for a short time 
afterwards; Oliver sat quite still。 

“Well; well!” said the old gentleman at length; in a more 
cheerful tone; “I only say this; because you have a young heart; 
and knowing that I have suffered great pain and sorrow; you will 
be more careful; perhaps; not to wound me again。 You say you are 
an orphan; without a friend in the world; all the inquiries I have 
been able to make; confirm the statement。 Let me hear your 
story—where you come from; who brought you up; and how you 
got into the company in which I found you。 Speak the truth; and 
you shall not be friendless while I live。” 

Oliver’s sobs checked his utterance for some minutes; when he 
was on the point of beginning to relate how he had been brought 
up at the farm; and carried to the workhouse by Mr。 Bumble; a 
peculiarly impatient little double…knock was heard at the street 
door; and the servant; running upstairs; announced Mr。 Grimwig。 

“Is he coming up?” inquired Mr。 Brownlow。 

“Yes; sir;” replied the servant。 “He asked if there were any 
muffins in the house; and; when I told him yes; he said he had 
come to tea。” 

Mr。 Brownlow smiled; and; turning to Oliver; said that Mr。 
Grimwig was an old friend of h

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