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第9章

oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第9章

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

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proudly downwards at the large brass buttons which embellished 
his coat。 “The die is the same as the porochial seal—the Good 
Samaritan healing the sick; and bruised man。 The Board 
presented it to me on New Year s morning; Mr。 Sowerberry。 I put 
it on; I remember; for the first time; to attend the inquest on that 
reduced tradesman; who died in a doorway at midnight。” 

“I recollect;” said the undertaker。 “The jury brought it in; ‘Died 
from exposure to the cold; and want of the common necessaries of 
life; didn’t they?” 

Mr。 Bumble nodded。 

“And they made it a special verdict; I think;” said the 
undertaker; “by adding some words to the effect; that if the 
relieving officer had—” 

“Tush! Foolery!” interposed the beadle。 “If the Board attended 
to all the nonsense that ignorant jurymen talk; they’d have enough 
to do。” 

“Very true;” said the undertaker; “they would indeed。” 

“Juries;” said Mr。 Bumble; grasping his cane tightly; as was his 
wont when working into a passion; “juries is ineddicated; vulgar; 
grovelling wretches。” 

“So they are;” said the undertaker。 

“They haven’t no more philosophy nor political economy about 
’em than that;” said the beadle; snapping his fingers 
contemptuously。 

“No more they have;” acquiesced the undertaker。 

“I despise ’em;” said the beadle; growing very red in the face。 

“So do I;” rejoined the undertaker。 

“And I only wish we’d a jury of the independent sort in the 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

house for a week or two;” said the beadle; “the rules and 
regulations of the Board would soon bring their spirit down for 
’em。” 

“Let ’em alone for that;” replied the undertaker。 So saying; he 
smiled approvingly; to calm the rising wrath of the indignant 
parish officer。 

Mr。 Bumble lifted off his cocked hat; took a handkerchief from 
the inside of the crown; wiped from his forehead the perspiration 
which his rage had engendered; fixed the cocked hat on again; 
and; turning to the undertaker; said in a calmer voice: 

“Well; what about the boy?” 

“Oh!” replied the undertaker; “why; you know Mr。 Bumble; I 
pay a good deal towards the poor’s rates。” 

“Hem!” said Mr。 Bumble; “Well?” 

“Well;” replied the undertaker; “I was thinking that if I pay so 
much towards ’em; I’ve a right to get as much out of ’em as I can; 
Mr。 Bumble; and so—and so—I think I’ll take the boy myself。” 

Mr。 Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm; and led him 
into the building。 Mr。 Sowerberry was closeted with the Board for 
five minutes; and it was arranged that Oliver should go to him that 
evening “upon liking”—a phrase which means; in the case of a 
parish apprentice; that if the master find; upon a short trial; that 
he can get enough work out of a boy without putting too much 
food into him; he shall have him for a term of years; to do what he 
likes with。 

When little Oliver was taken before “the gentlemen” that 
evening; and informed that he was to go; that night; as general 
house…lad to a coffin…maker’s; and that if he complained of his 
situation; or ever came back to the parish again; he would be sent 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

to sea; there to be drowned or knocked on the head; as the case 
might be; he evinced so little emotion; that they by common 
consent pronounced him a hardened young rascal; and ordered 
Mr。 Bumble to remove him forthwith。 

Now; although it was very natural that the Board; of all people 
in the world; should feel in a great state of virtuous astonishment 
and horror at the smallest tokens of want of feeling on the part of 
anybody; they were rather out; in this particular instance。 The 
simple fact was; that Oliver; instead of possessing too little feeling; 
possessed rather too much; and was in a fair way of being reduced; 
for life; to a state of brutal stupidity and sullenness by the ill…usage 
he had received。 He heard the news of his destination; in perfect 
silence; and; having had his luggage put into his hand—which was 
not very difficult to carry; inasmuch as it was all comprised within 
the limits of a brown…paper parcel; about half a foot square by 
three inches deep—he pulled his cap over his eyes; and once more 
attaching himself to Mr。 Bumble’s coat cuff; was led away by that 
dignitary to a new scene of suffering。 

For some time; Mr。 Bumble drew Oliver along; without notice 
or remark; for the beadle carried his head very erect; as a beadle 
always should: and; it being a windy day; little Oliver was 
completely enshrouded by the skirts of Mr。 Bumble’s coat as they 
blew open; and disclosed to great advantage his flapped waistcoat 
and drab plush knee…breeches。 As they drew near to their 
destination; however; Mr。 Bumble thought it expedient to look 
down; and see that the boy was in good order for inspection by his 
new master; which he accordingly did; with a fit and becoming air 
of gracious patronage。 

“Oliver!” said Mr。 Bumble。 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

“Yes; sir;” replied Oliver; in a low; tremulous voice。 

“Pull that cap off your eyes; and hold up your head; sir。” 

Although Oliver did as he was desired; at once; and passed the 
back of his unoccupied hand briskly across his eyes; he left a tear 
in them when he looked up at his conductor。 As Mr。 Bumble gazed 
sternly upon him; it rolled down his cheek。 It was followed by 
another; and another。 The child made a strong effort; but it was an 
unsuccessful one。 Withdrawing his other hand from Mr。 Bumble’s; 
he covered his face with both; and wept until the tears sprang out 
from between his chin and bony fingers。 

“Well!” exclaimed Mr。 Bumble; stopping short; and darting at 
his little charge a look of intense malignity。 “Well! Of all the 
ungratefullest; and worst…disposed boys as ever I see; Oliver; you 
are the—” 

“No; no; sir;” sobbed Oliver; clinging to the hand which held the 
well…known cane; “no; no; sir; I will be good indeed; indeed; 
indeed I will; sir! I am a very little boy; sir; and it is so—so—” 

“So what?” inquired Mr。 Bumble in amazement。 

“So lonely; sir! So very lonely!” cried the child。 “Everybody 
hates me。 Oh! sir; don’t; don’t pray be cross with me!” The child 
beat his hand upon his heart; and looked in his companion’s face; 
with tears of real agony。 

Mr。 Bumble regarded Oliver’s piteous and helpless look; with 
some astonishment; for a few seconds; hemmed three or four 
times in a husky manner; and; after muttering something about 
“that troublesome cough;” bade Oliver dry his eyes and be a good 
boy。 Then; once more taking his hand; he walked on with him in 
silence。 

The undertaker; who had just put up the shutters of his shop; 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

was making some entries in his day…book by the light of a most 
appropriate dismal candle; when Mr。 Bumble entered。 

“Aha!” said the undertaker; looking up from the book and 
pausing in the middle of a word; “is that you; Bumble?” 

“No one else; Mr。 Sowerberry;” replied the beadle。 “Here! I’ve 
brought the boy。” Oliver made a bow。 

“Oh! that’s the boy; is it?” said the undertaker; raising the 
candle above his head; to get a better view of Oliver。 “Mrs。 
Sowerberry! will you have the goodness to come here a moment; 
my dear?” 

Mrs。 Sowerberry emerged from a little room behind the shop; 
and presented the form of a short; thin; squeezed…up woman; with 
a vixenish countenance。 

“My dear;” said Mr。 Sowerberry deferentially; “this is the boy 
from the workhouse that I told you of。” Oliver bowed again。 

“Dear me!” said the undertaker’s wife; “he’s very small。” 

“Why; he is rather small;” replied Mr。 Bumble; looking at Oliver 
as if it were his fault that he was no bigger; “he is small。 There’s no 
denying it。 But he’ll grow; Mrs。 Sowerberry—he’ll grow。” 

“Ah! I dare say he will;” replied the lady pettishly; “on our 
victuals and our drink。 I see no saving in parish childre

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