 Chapter 7 of Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens This Liberock's recording is in the public domain. Recording by Arthur Piantodosi Chapter 7 Oliver Continuels Refracture Noah Claypool ran along the streets at his swiftest pace and swells not once for breath until he reached the workhouse gate. Having rested here for a minute or two, was to collect a good spurt of sobs and an imposing show of tears and terror. He knocked loudly the wicket and oriented such a ruthless face to the aged popper who opened it that even he, it was all nothing but ruthless faces about him at the best of times, started back an astonishment. Why, what's the matter with the boy? Said the old popper. Mr Bumble! Mr Bumble! Cryed but, no, with well-affected dismay and in tone so loud and aggravated that they not only caught the ear of Mr Bumble himself, who happened to be hard-buy, and alarmed him so much that he rushed into the yard without his cocked hat, which is a very curious and remarkable circumstance that showed that even a beetle acted upon in a sudden and powerful impulse, maybe affected by the momentary visitation of loss of self-position and forgetfulness of personal dignity. Mr Bumble, sir, said, all of us, all of us. What? What? In the pose, Mr Bumble, with a gleam of pleasure and his metallic eyes, not run away as yet and run away as he, Mr... No, sir, not run away, but he's turn vicious. I know. He tried to murder me, sir. He tried to murder Charlotte, and then Mrs... Oh, what dreadful pain it is! Such agony, please, sir. And here Noah writhed and twisted his body into an intensive variety of eel-like positions, thereby giving Mr Bumble to understand that, from the violent and saguine onset of Oliver Twist, he had as it stains a severe internal injury and damage, and which ends, at that moment, suffering the cutest torture. Noah saw that the intelligence he communicated perfectly paralyzed Mr Bumble. He imparted additional effort there, too, by bewailing his dreadful wounds ten times louder than before, and when he observed a gentleman in a white waistcoat crossing the yard, he was moot or tragic in his lamentations and ever, rightly conceiving it highly expedient to attract their notice and rouse the indignation of the gentleman aforesaid. The gentleman's notice was very soon attracted, for he'd not walk three paces when he turned angrily round and inquired what the young cur was howling for, and why Mr Bumble did not favour him with something which would re-enter the series of political explanations so detonated as an involuntary process. It's a poor boy from her three-year school, sir, replied Mr Bumble, who has been nearly murdered, all but murdered, sir, by young Twist. By Jove! explained that the gentleman in the white waistcoat, soaping short, I knew it! I found a strange presentiment from the very first, that that audacious young savage would come to be hung. It's like guys attempted, sir, to know that the female servant had Mr Bumble with a face of ashy paleness and his missus, interposed Mr Claypole, and his master too, I think you said, nah, that's not Mr Bumble. No, he's out of it, he would have worked at him, replied nah, he said he wanted to, did he, my boy, inquire the gentleman in the white waistcoat? Yes, sir, replied nah, and please, sir, Mrs wants to know whether Bumble can spend any time because I'll be there directly and flock him, as master's out. Certainly, my boy, certainly, said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, smiling benignly and patting his head, which was about three inches higher than his own. You're a good boy, a very good boy, he is a penny for you. Bumble will just set up to sour as he was your cane and see what's best to be done. Don't spare him, Bumble. No, I will not, sir, replied the beetle. And the cork-tart and cane, having been, by this time, adjusted to their own as satisfaction, Mr Bumble and our Claypole but took themselves to all speed to the undertaker's shop. Here the position of affairs not at all improved. Saabari had not yet returned and all of her continued to kick with undiminished vigor at the cellar door. The counts of his ferocity as related to by Mr Saabari and Charlotte was of so startling a nature that Mr Bumble judged it prudently to parley before opening the door. With his view he gave a kick at the outside by way of prelude and then, flying his mouth to the keel, sitting a deep, impressive dog, all there are! Come, you let me out, replied Oliver from the inside. Do you know this here, boys, Oliver? And Mr Bumble? Yes, replied Oliver. Aren't you afraid of it? Aren't you a trembling when I speak, sir? Then Mr Bumble? No, replied Oliver boldly. An answer so different from the one he had suspected to illicit and was in the habit of receiving, staggered Mr Bumble not a little. The dog from the keel drew himself up to his full height and looked from one to another of the three bystanders in mute astonishment. Oh, you know, Mr Bumble, he must be mad! Says Mr Saabari. Now, boy, and have his senses good that endures out of speed, trio! It's not madness, ma'am! replied Mr Bumble after a few moments of deep meditation. It's meat! Meat, madam, meat! replied Bumble with stern emphasis. You've overfed him, ma'am! You've raised an artificial soul and spirit in him, ma'am, and becoming a person of his condition. As the board, Mr Saabari, who are practical philosophers, will tell you what a pauper's to do with a soul or spirit. It's quite enough to let me have blibed bodies. If you were to get the boy on groom, you wouldn't have happened. Dear, dear! Jackalated Mr Saabari, piously raising her eyes to the kitchen ceiling. This comes being liberal! Librarity of Mrs Saabari to Oliver consisted of a profuse bestowal upon him of all the dirty lords and ends which nobody else would eat. So there was a great deal of meekness and self devotion in her following terrantly, remaining under Mr Bumble's heavy accusation. Of which to her justice she was wholly innocent in thought, word, or deed. Ah! Said Mr Bumble, when the lady brought her eyes bound to earth again, the only thing that may be done now that I know of is to leave him in the cellar for a day or so till he's a little sawn down and then to take him out and keep him on groom all through the apprenticeship. He comes of a bad family. Excitable natures, Mr Saabari. Who the mares and the doctors said that the mother had done difficulty in pains and would have killed any well-disposed woman weeks before. And his poem going to Mr Bumble's discourse, Oliver just hearing enough, know that some illusion was being made to his mother, immense kicking with the violence that rendered every other sound inaudible. Saabari returned to this juncture. Oliver's offence having been explained to him with such exaggerations as the lady thought best calculated to rouse his ire, he unlocked the cellar door in a twinkling and dragged his rebellious apprentice out by the collar. Oliver's clothes had been torn in the beating he had received. His face was bruised and scratched. His hair scattered over his forehead. The angle of thrust had not yet appeared, however. A ring was pulled out of his prison, he'd scowl boldly at Noah and looked quite undismayed. Now you are a nice young fellow, ain't you? Said Saabari, hearing Oliver shake in a box of the air. He called my mother names. Applying to Oliver, Well, and what if you did your little ungrateful wretch? Said Mr Saabari, she deserved what he said and worse, she didn't. Said Oliver, she did. Said Mr Saabari, it's a lie. Said Oliver, Mrs Saabari burst into a flood of tears. This flood of tears, Mrs Saabari, no alternative. If he has edited it for one instant to punish Oliver most severely, it must be quite clear to every experienced reader that he would have been, according to all presidents in disputes of matrimony established, a brute and unnatural husband, an insulting creature, a base imitation of man and various other agreeable characters, too numerous for a saddle within the limits of his chapter. Or do him justice he was as far as his power went. It was not very extensive, kindly disposed towards a boy. Perhaps because it was in his interest to be so, perhaps because his wife disliked him. The flood of tears, however, left him no resource. So it we at once gave him a drumming, which satisfied even Miss Saabari herself and rendered Mr Bumble's subsequent application of the parochial cane. Rather unnecessary. For the rest of the day he was shot up in the back of the kitchen in company with a pump and a slice of bread. And at night, Mr Saabari, after making various remarks outside the door, by no means complimentary to the memory of his mother, looked into the room and amidst the jeers and pointing of Noah and Charlotte, ordered him upstairs to his dismal bed. It was not until he was left alone in the presence of the gloomy workshop of the undertaker that Oliver gave way to the feelings for today's treatments must be supposed to have awakened an immediate child. He had listened to their taunts with the look of contempt. He had borne the lash without a cry. For he felt that pride swirling in his heart which would have kept down a shriek to the last. Though they had roasted him alive, but now, when there were none to see or hear him, he fell upon his knees on the floor and his hands wept such tears. As God sinned for the credit of our nature, a few so young may ever have caused a pour out before him. For a long time, Oliver remained motionless in this attitude. A candle was burning low in the socket when he rose to his feet. Having gazed cautiously round him and listened intently, he undid the fastening of the door and looked abroad. There was a cold, dark night. The boy's eyes, farther in earth than he had ever seen them before. There was no wind and the somber shadows thrown by the trees upon the ground looked smoltural and death-like from being so still. He softly re-closed the door, having availed himself of the inspiring light of the candle to tie up a handkerchief. The few articles of raring apparel he had set himself down on the bench to wait for morning. But the first ray of light that struggled with the crevices then again unbarred the door. One time it looked around. One moment's pause of hesitation. It closed behind him and was all in the open street. He looked to the right and to the left, uncertain whether to fly. He remembered though to have seen the wagons as they went out toiling at the hill. He took the same route and arrived at a footpath across the fields, which he knew after some distance laid out again into the road, struck into it and walked quickly on. Olof Orel remembered he had trotted beside Mr Bumble when he first carried him to the workhouse and the farm. His way lay directly in front of the cottage. His heart beat quickly when he be-thought himself of this. And he half resolved to turn back. He had come a long way though when he should lose a great deal of time in doing so. Besides it was so early that there was little fear of it being seen. So he walked on. He reached the house. There was no appearance of its inmate stirring Olof stopped and peered into the garden. A child was weeding one of the little birds as he stopped. He raised his pale face and disclosed the features of one of his former companions. Olof felt glad to see him before he went for though younger than himself he had been his little friend and playmate. They had been beaten and starved and shot up together many and many a time. Is it Olof as a boy ran to the gate and thrust his tight arm between and ends to beat him? Is anyone up? Nobody but me. Replied the child. You mustn't say you saw me, Dick. Is it Olof? I'm running away. They've beaten and used me, Dick. Now I'm going to see my fortune somewhere on way off. I don't know where. I'll pale you are. I hear the doctor sell them I was dying. I'm very glad to see you, dear. But don't stop. Don't stop. Yes, yes, I will to say goodbye to you. Plied, Oliver. I shall see you again, Dick. I know I shall. I'll be well and happy. I hope so. Replied the child. After I am dead, but not before. I know doctor must be right, Oliver. They dream so much of heaven and angels and kind faces that I never see when I am awake. Kiss me. Said the child, climbing up the low gate and flinging his little arms round Oliver. Goodbye, dear. God bless you. His blessing was from a young child's lips but was the first that Oliver never heard and voked upon his head and through the struggles and sufferings and troubles and changes of his afterlife he never once or got it. End of chapter seven of Oliver Twist. Chapter number eight of Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. This Liborox recording is in the public domain. Chapter eight. Oliver walks to London in counters on the road a strange sort of young gentleman. Ulva reached the style at which the bypass terminated and once more gained the high road. It was eight o'clock now. Though he was nearly five miles away from the town, he ran and hid behind the hedges by turns till noon, fearing that he might be pursued and overtaken. Then he sat down to rest by the side of the milestone and began to think for the first time where he'd better go and try to live. The stone by which he was seated bore enlarged characters an intimation that it was just 70 miles from that spot to London. The name wakened a new train of ideas in the boy's mind. London! At great place! Nobody! Not even Mr Bumble could ever find him there. He'd often heard the old men in the workhouse too. Say that no lad of spirit need warmth in London and that there were ways of living in that vast city which those who had been bred up in country parts had no idea of. It was the very place for a homeless boy who must die in the streets unless someone helped him. As these things passed through his thoughts he jumped upon his feet and again walked forward. He diminished the distance between himself and London by four far miles more before he recollected how much he must undergo and he could hope to reach his place of destination. As this consideration forced itself upon him he slapped his pace a little and meditated upon his means of getting there. He had crossed a bread called shirts and two pairs of stockings in his bundle. He had a penny too, a gift of sourberries after some funeral in which he had acquired to himself more than the old's knowly well in his pocket. A clean shirt, thought Oliver, is a very comfortable thing and so it used to be as a dawn stockings. And so is a penny but there are small hops at a 65 miles walk in wintertime. But Oliver's thoughts like those of most other people although they were extremely ready and active to point out his differences were probably a little lost to suggest any feasible orders of mounting them. So after a good deal of thinking and no particular purpose he changed his little bundle over to the other shoulder and trudged on. Oliver walked 20 miles that day and all that time tasted nothing but dry bread and a true dose of water which he begged at the cottage doors by the roadside. And the night came he turned into a meadow and creeping close under a hay-rich determined to lie there till morning. He felt frightened at first for the wind moaned dismally over the empty view and he was cold and hungry and more were alone than he had ever felt before. Being very tired with his walk and forgot his troubles he felt cold and stiff when he gulped up next morning and so hungry that he was obliged to change the penny for a small loaf in the first village through which he passed. He had walked no more than 12 miles when night closed in again. His feet were sore and his legs so weak that they trembled beneath him. Another night passed in the bleak damp air made them worse when he set forward on his journey next morning he could hardly crawl along. He waited at the bottom of a steep hill until a stagecoach came up and then begged of the outside passengers but there were a very few who took any notice of him and even those told him to wait till they got to the top of the hill and then let him see how far he could run for a half penny. Paul Orville tried to keep up with the coach a little way but was unable to do it by reason of his fatigue and sore feet. When the outside saw this one and a half pence back in their pockets again he was scaring that he was an idle young dog and didn't deserve anything and the coach rattled away and left only a cloud dust behind. In some villages large painted balls were fixed up warning all persons who begged within the district that they would be sent jail this frightened all of her very much and made him glad to get out of those villages with all possible expedition. Others he would stand about the innards and look mournful to everyone who passed a proceeding which generally terminated in the landlady's ordering one of the post boys who was lounging about a drive that strange boy out of the place was she was sure he had come to steal something. He begged at a farmer's house into one but they threatened to set the dog on him and when he showed his shoes in the shop they talked about the beetle which brought all of his heart into his mouth very only the only thing he had there for many hours together. In fact if it had not been for a good hearted turnpike man and a benevolent old lady all of us troubles would have been shortened by the very same process which had put an end to his mother's. In other words he was most assuredly a fallen dead upon the king's highway but the turnpike man gave him a meal of bread and cheese the old lady with a shipwrecked grandson wandering barefoot in some distant part of the earth took pity upon the poor orphan and gave him what little she could afford and more with such kind and gentle words and such tears of sympathy and compassion that they had sank deeper into the owner of a soul than all the sufferings he had ever undergone. Early on the seventh morning after he left his native place, owner of a limp slowly into the little town of Barnett the window-shotters were closed the street was empty not a soul had awakened to the business of the day the sun was rising in all its splendid beauty but the light only served to show the boy his own lonesomeness and desolation as he sat with bleeding feet and covered with dust upon a doorstep by degrees the shutters were opened the window-binds were drawn up and people began passing to and fro some few stalked gays at Oliver for a moment or two or turned round to stare at him as they hurried by but none relieved him all troubled themselves to inquire how he came there he had no heart to beg and there he sat he had been crouched on the step for some time wondering at the great number of public houses every other house in Barnett was a tavern large or small gazing listlessly at the coaches they passed through and thinking how strange it seemed that they could do was ease in a few hours what had taken him a whole week of courage and determination beyond his years to accomplish and he was roused by observing that a boy who had passed him carelessly some minutes before had returned and was now surveying him most earnestly from the opposite side of the way he took little heed of this at first but the boy remained in the same attitude of close observations so long that Oliver raised his head and turned into a steady look upon this the boy crossed over and walked close and up to Oliver said hello my Covey, what's the row the boy who addressed this inquiry to the young Wayfarer was about his own age but one of the queerest looking boys that Oliver had ever seen he was a snout nose flat-proud common-faced boy enough and as dirty a juvenile as one would wish to see but he had about him all the airs and manners of a man he was short of his age with rather bow legs and with his sharp ugly eyes his head was stuck on the top of his head so lightly that it threatened to fall off every moment and would have done so very often if then we are at not a knack of every now and then giving his head a sudden twitch which brought it back to its old place again he wore a man's coat which reached nearly to his neals if he turned the cuffs back halfway up his arm to get his hands out of the sleeves apparently with the ultimate view of thrusting him into the pockets of his called right trousers for there he kept them he was all together as roisteringly and swaggering a young gentleman who's ever stood four feet six or something less in the blue curves I know my Coby was a row so this strange young gentleman to Oliver I'm very hungry and tired applied Oliver the tears standing in his eyes as he spoke I have walked a long way I've been walking these seven days walking for seven days at the young gentleman oh, I see big's all day but he added noticing Oliver's look as a prize I suppose you don't know what a big is my flash companion Oliver mildly replied that he'd always heard a bird's mouth described by the term in question my eyes how green exclaimed the young gentleman why a big's a magistrate and when you walk by a big's older it's not straightforward but always a going up and never coming down again was he never on the mill what mill inquired Oliver what mill the mill must take up so little room ready to work instead of some jog and always go better when they're in slow with people and when it's high calls then they can't get workmen become said the young gentleman you won't grub and you shall have it I'm a low-walled mark myself only one bourbon mag by as far as it goes I'll fork out and stomp up with you and your pins there now there, Maurice assisting Oliver to rise the young gentleman took to him to a Jason Chandler shop what is the reference to the sufficiency of ready-dressed ham and a half quarter in loaf or as he himself expressed a four-pané bran a hand being kept clean and preserved from dust by the ingenious expedient to make a hole in the loaf by pulling out a portion of the crumb and stuffing it therein taking the bread under his arm the young gentleman turned into a small public house and led the way to a taproom in the rear of the premises he had a pot of beer brought in by direction of the mysterious youth and all of a fall into it his young friends beating made a long and hearty meal during the progress of which the strange boy eyed him from time to time with great intention going to London to the strange boy when Oliver then concluded yes, got any lodgings no money no and put his arms into his pockets as far as the big coats leaves will let them go do you live in London inquired Oliver yes I do when I'm at home applied the boy I suppose you want somebody to sleep in tonight don't you I do indeed answered Oliver I've not slept on the roof since I lived the country don't you fret your eyelids on that score said the young gentleman I got to be in London tonight and I know a special old gentleman as lives there will give you lodgings for nothing and never ask for the change that is if any gentleman knows introduces you and don't you know me not in the least by no means certainly not young gentleman smiled as if to intimate the later fragments of discourse and finished the beer as he did so the unexpected offer of shelter was too tempting to be resisted especially as it was immediately followed up by the assurance that the old gentleman referred to but doubtlessly provide Oliver with a comfortable place without loss of time this led to a more friendly and confidential dialogue by which Oliver discovered that his friend's name was Jack Dawkins that he was a particularly pet well today the elderly gentleman before mentioned Mr Dawkins' appearances did not say a steel in favour of the comforts which his patron's interest obtained for those whom he took under his protection but as he had a rather flighty and disillet mode of conversing and furthermore avowed that among his intimate friends he was better known by the sobriquette of the awful doger Oliver concluded that being dissipated in careless turn the moral precepts of his benefactor had yet to have been thrown away upon him under this impression he secretly resolved to cultivate the good opinion of the old gentleman as quickly as possible and if he found the doger incorrigible as he would all then have to spectate he was assured to decline the order of his father's acquaintance as John Dawkins objected to their entering London before nightfall it was nearly eleven o'clock when they reached their turnpike as Ainslington they crossed from the Angel into St John's Road struck down the small street which terminated Sadler's Wells Theatre through Exmouth Street and Coppice Row down the little core by the side of the workhouse across the classic round which once bore the name of Hockley in the hole then into a little saffron hill and so far into saffron hill the great along which the doger scutted at rapid pace directing Oliver to follow close at his heels although Oliver had enough to occupy his attention in keeping sight of his leader he could not help but stowing a few hasty glances on either side of the way as he passed along a dirtier or more wretched place he had never seen the street was very narrow and muddy and the air was impregnated with filthy odours there were a good many little shops but the only stock in trade appeared to be heaps of children who even at this time of night were falling in and out at the door so screaming from the inside saw places that seemed as prosper amid the general blight of the place for the public houses and in them the lowest orders of Irish were wrangling with might and maine covering ways and yards which here and there diverged from the main street disclosed lots of houses where drunken men and women positively warrowing in filth and from several the doorways great inlooking fellows were cautiously emerging bound to all appearance on no very well disposed or harmless errands and although it was just considering whether he had better run away whenever he reached the bottom of the hill his conductor catching him by the arm pushed open the door of a house near field lane and drawing him into the passage closed it behind them now then came a cry from below and fled to a whistle from the dodger plummy and slam was a reply it seemed to be some watchword a signal that all was all right for the bright of her feeble cat and the gleamed of the wall at the remote end of the passage and the man's face peeped out from which a bonustrid of the old kitchen stairway had been broken away there's two on yet said the man just thing a candle fought all the route and shielding his eyes with his hand applied Jack Dawkins pulling Oliver forward where did he come from? Greenland he's faking upstairs yes he's the sort on the wipes up with ya! the candle was drawn back and his face disappeared Oliver, groping his way with one hand and having the other firmly grasped by his companion ascended to much difficulty the dark and broken stairs which his conductor mounted with an ease an expedition that surely is well acquainted with them he threw open the door in the back room and drew Oliver in after him the walls and ceilings and the room were perfectly black with age and dirt there was a deal table before the fire upon which were a candle stuck in a ginger beer bottle two or three plates of pots a loaf and butter and a plate a frying pan which was on the fire and which was secured to the mantel shelf by a string some sausages were cooking and standing over them Oliver's hand was a very old dribbled Jew whose realiness looking and repulsive face was obscured by a quantity of matted red hair he was dressed in a greasy flannel gown with his throat bare and seemed to be dedicating his attention between the frying pan and the clothes also rich a great number of steel cankerchiefs were hanging Everloft beds made of old sacks were huddling side by side on the floor seated round the table four or five boys none older than a dodger smoking long clay pipes and drinking spirits with the air of middle aged men he's all crowded about their associates as he's whispered a few words to the Jew then then turned round and grinned at Oliver so did the Jew himself toasting for a gunan this is him or Fagin Jack Dawkins my friend Oliver Twist a Jew grinned and making a low obese Oliver took him by the hand and hoped you should have the honour of his intimate acquaintance upon this the young gentleman with the pipes came round him and shook both his hands very hard especially the one in which he held his little bundle one young gentleman was very anxious to hang up his cap for him now there was a simple bludging as to put his hands in his pockets he noted that as he was very tired he might not have the trouble of emptying them himself when he went to bed these civilities would probably be extended much farther but for a liberal exercise the Jew was toasting for when the heads and shoulders they shouldn't use to offer them we are very glad to see Oliver very said the Jew don't you take off the sausages and draw a tub near the fire for Oliver ah you're staring at the pocket engines you say my dear there are a good many of them here aren't they we've just looked them out ready for the wash that's all later part of the speech was hailed a boisterous shout from all pupils of the merry old gentleman in the midst of which they went to supper Oliver ate his share and the Jew then mixed him a glass of hot gin and water telling him he must drink it off directly because another gentleman wanted the tumbler Oliver did as he was desired immediately afterwards he felt himself gently lifted onto one of the sacks and then he slunk into a deep sleep end of chapter eight chapter nine of Oliver Twist this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Deborah Lynn Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens chapter nine containing further particulars concerning the pleasant old gentleman and his hopeful pupils it was late next morning when Oliver awoke from a sound long sleep there was no other person in the room but the old Jew who was boiling some coffee in a saucepan for breakfast and whistling softly to himself as he stirred it round and round with an iron spoon he would stop every now and then to listen when there was the least noise below and when he had satisfied himself he would go on whistling and stirring again as before although Oliver had roused himself from sleep he was not thoroughly awake there is a drowsy state between sleeping and waking if you dream more in five minutes with your eyes half open and yourself half conscious of everything that is passing around you then you would in five nights with your eyes fast closed and your senses wrapped in perfect unconsciousness at such time a mortal knows just enough of what his mind is doing to form some glimmering conception of its mighty powers its bounding from earth and spurning time and space when freed from the restraint he was mentally in this condition he saw the Jew with his half closed eyes heard his low whistling and recognized the sound of the spoon grating against the saucepan's sides and yet the self-same senses were mentally engaged at the same time in busy action with almost everybody he had ever known when the coffee was done the Jew drew the saucepan to the hob standing then in an irresolute attitude for a few minutes as if he did not well know how to employ himself he turned round and looked at Oliver and called him by his name he did not answer and was to all appearances asleep after satisfying himself upon this head the Jew stepped gently to the door which he fastened he then drew forth as it seemed to Oliver from some trap in the floor a small box which he placed carefully on the table his eyes glistened as he raised the lid and looked in dragging an old chair to the table and took from it a magnificent gold watch sparkling with jewels aha! said the Jew shrugging up his shoulders and distorting every feature with a hideous grin clever dogs, clever dogs staunched to the last never told the old person where they were never poached upon old Fagan and why should they? it wouldn't have loosened the knot or kept the drop up a minute longer no, no, no, fine fellows, fine fellows with these and other muttered reflections of the light nature the Jew once more deposited the watch in its place of safety at least half a dozen more were severally drawn forth from the same box and surveyed with equal pleasure besides rings, brooches, bracelets and other articles of jewelry of such magnificent materials and costly workmanship that Oliver had no idea even of their names having replaced these trinkets the Jew took out another so small that it lay in the palm of his hand there seemed to be some very minute inscription on it for the Jew laid it flat upon the table and shading it with his hand poured over it long and earnestly at length he put it down as if despairing of success and leaning back in his chair muttered what a fine thing capital punishment is dead men never repent dead men never bring awkward stories to light ah, it's a fine thing for the trade five of them strung up in a row and none left to play booty or turn white-livered as the Jew uttered these words his bright dark eyes which had been steering vacantly before him fell on Oliver's face the boy's eyes were fixed on his in mute curiosity and although the recognition was only for an instant for the briefest space of time that could possibly be conceived it was enough to show the old men that he had been observed he closed the lid of the box with a loud crash and laying his hand on a bread knife started furiously up he trembled very much though for even in his terror Oliver could see that the knife quivered in the air what's that said the Jew what do you watch me for why are you awake what have you seen speak out boy quick quick for your life I wasn't able to sleep any longer sir replied Oliver Meekly I am very sorry if I have disturbed you sir you were not awake an hour ago said the Jew scowling fiercely on the boy no, no indeed replied Oliver are you sure cried the Jew with a still fiercer look than before and a threatening attitude upon my word I was not sir replied Oliver earnestly I was not indeed sir touch touch my dear said the Jew abruptly resuming his old manner and playing with the knife a little before he laid it down as if to induce the belief that he had caught it up in mere sport of course I know that my dear I only tried to frighten you you're a brave boy ha ha replied Oliver the Jew rubbed his hands with a chuckle but glanced uneasily at the box notwithstanding did you see any of these pretty things my dear said the Jew laying his hand upon it after a short pause yes sir replied Oliver ah said the Jew turning rather pale they're mine Oliver my little property all I have to live upon in my old age the folks call me a miser my dear only a miser that's all Oliver thought the old gentleman must be a decided miser to live in such a dirty place with so many watches but thinking that perhaps his fondness for the Dodger and the other boys cost him a good deal of money he only cast a deferential look at the Jew and asked if he might get up certainly my dear certainly replied the old gentleman stay there's a pitcher of water in the corner by the door bring it here and I'll give you a basin to wash in my dear Oliver got up walked across the room and stooped for an instant to raise the pitcher when he turned his head the box was gone he had scarcely washed himself and made everything tidy by emptying the basin out of the window agreeably to the Jews directions when the Dodger returned accompanied by a very sprightly young friend whom Oliver had seen smoking on the previous night and who was now formally introduced to him as Charlie Bates the four sat down to breakfast on the coffee and some hot rolls and ham which the Dodger had brought home in the crown of his hat well so the Jew glancing at Oliver and addressing himself to the Dodger I hope you've been at work this morning my dears hard replied the Dodger his nails added Charlie Bates good boys good boys said the Jew what have you got Dodger a couple of pocket books replied that young gentleman lined inquired the Jew with eagerness pretty well replied the Dodger producing two pocket books one green and the other red not so heavy as they might be said the Jew after looking at the insides carefully but very neat and nicely made in genius workman any Oliver very indeed sir said Oliver at which Mr. Charles Bates laughed uproariously very much to the amazement of Oliver who saw nothing to laugh at in anything that had passed and what have you got my dear said begging to Charlie Bates wipes replied master Bates at the same time producing four pocket anchorchiefs well said the Jew producing them closely they're very good ones very you haven't marked them well though Charlie so the mark shall be picked out with a needle and we'll teach Oliver how to do it shall us Oliver a ha ha ha if you please sir said Oliver you'd like to be able to make pocket anchorchiefs as easy as Charlie Bates wouldn't you my dear said the Jew very much indeed if you'll teach me sir replied Oliver master Bates saw something so exquisitely ludicrous in this reply that he burst into another laugh meeting the coffee he was drinking and carrying it down some wrong channel very nearly terminated in his premature suffocation he is so jolly green said Charlie when he recovered as an apology to the company for his unpolite behavior the Dodger said nothing but he smoothed Oliver's hair over his eyes and said he'd know better by and by upon which the old gentleman observing Oliver's color mounting changed the subject by asking whether there had been much of a crowd at the execution that morning this made him wonder more and more for it was plain from the replies of the two boys that they had both been there and Oliver naturally wondered how they could possibly have found time to be so very industrious when the breakfast was cleared away the merry old gentleman and the two boys played at a very curious and uncommon game which was performed in this way the merry old gentleman placing a snuff box in one pocket of his trousers a note case in the other and a watch in his waistcoat pocket with a guard chain round his neck and sticking a mock diamond pin in his shirt buttoned his coat tight round him and putting his spectacle case and handkerchief in his pockets trotted up and down the room with a stick in imitation of the manner in which old gentleman walk about the streets any hour in the day sometimes he stopped at the fireplace and sometimes at the door making believe that he was staring with all his might into shop windows at such times he would look constantly round him for fear of thieves and would keep slapping all his pockets in turn to see that he hadn't lost anything this is a very funny and natural manner that Oliver laughed till the tears ran down his face all this time the two boys followed him closely about getting out of his sight so nimbly every time he turned round that it was impossible to follow their motions at last the dodger tried upon his toes or ran upon his boot accidentally while Charlie Bates stumbled up against him behind and in that one moment what they took from him with the most extraordinary rapidity snuff box note case watch guard change shirt pin pocket handkerchief even the spectacle case if the old gentleman felt a hand in any one of his pockets he cried out where it was and then the game began all over again when this game had been played a great many times a couple of young ladies called to see the young gentleman one of whom was named Bette and the other Nancy they wore a good deal of hair and they turned up behind and were rather untidy about the shoes and stockings they were not exactly pretty perhaps but they had a great deal of color in their faces and looked quite stout and hearty being remarkably free and agreeable in their manners Oliver thought them very nice girls indeed as there is no doubt they were the visitors stopped a long time spirits were produced in consequence of one of the young ladies complaining of a coldness in her inside and the conversation took a very convivial and improving turn at length Charlie Bates expressed his opinion that it was time to pad the hoof this it occurred to Oliver must be French for going out for directly afterwards the Dodger and Charlie and the two young ladies went away together having been kindly furnished by the amiable old Jew with money to spend there my dear said Fagan that's a pleasant life isn't it they have gone out for the day have they done work sir inquired Oliver yes said the Jew that is unless they should unexpectedly come across any when they are out and they won't neglect it if they do my dear depend upon it make them your models my dear tapping the fire shovel on the hearth to add force to his words do everything they bid you and take their advice in all matters especially the Dodgers my dear he'll be a great man himself and will make you one too out of my pocket my dear said the Jew stopping short yes sir said Oliver see if you can take it out without my feeling it as you saw them do when we were at play this morning Oliver held up the bottom of the pocket with one hand as he had seen the Dodger hold it and do the handkerchief lightly out of it with the other is it gone? here it is sir said Oliver showing it in his hand your clever boy my dear said the playful old gentleman patting Oliver on the head approvingly I never saw a sharper lad here's a shilling for you if you go on in this way you'll be the greatest man of the time and now come here and I'll show you how to take the marks out of the handkerchiefs Oliver wondered what picking the old gentleman's pocket in play had to do with his chances of being a great man but thinking that the Jew being so much his senior must know best he followed him quietly to the table and was soon deeply involved in his new study End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of Oliver twist by Charles Dickens this Liberbox recording is in the public domain Chapter 10 Oliver becomes better acquainted with the characters of his new associates and purchased his experience at a higher price being a short but very important chapter in his history for many days Oliver remained in the Jew's room picking the marks out of the handkerchief of which a great number were brought home and sometimes taking part in the game already described but the two boys and the Jew played regularly every morning a lengthy began to languish for fresh air and took many occasions of earnestly treating the old gentleman to allow him to go out to work with his two companions Oliver was rendered the more anxious to be actively employed by what he had seen of the stern morality of the old gentleman's character Whenever the daughter or Charlie Bates came home at night empty handed he would experience with great vehemence on the misery of idle and lazy habits would enforce upon them the necessity of an active life by sending them supper last to bed on one occasion indeed he even went so far as to knock them both down as light of stairs but this was carrying the virtuous precepts to an unusual extent a length one morning Oliver obtained the permission he had so eagerly sought there had been no handkerchiefs to work upon for two or three days and the dinners had been rather meager perhaps these were reasons for the old gentleman's giving his assent but whether they were a no he told Oliver he might go and placed him under the joint guardianship of Charlie Bates and his friend the Dodger the three boys saluted out the Dodger with his coat sleeves tucked up and his hat caught as usual Master Bates sauntering along with his hands in his pockets and Oliver between them wondering where they were going and what branch of manufacturing would be instructed in first the pace at which they went was such a very lazy, idle looking saunter that all of us soon began to think his companions were going to deceive the old gentleman by not going to work at all the Dodger had visited just propensity too of pulling the cap from the heads of small boys and tossing them down areas while Charlie Bates exhibited some very loose notions concerning the rights of property I peeled furring divers apples and onions from the stalls of the kennelsides and thrusting them into his pockets which were so surprisingly capacious that they seemed to undermine his whole suit of clothes in every direction. Then those things looked very bad that Oliver was at the point of declaring his intention of seeking his way back in the best way he caught when his thoughts were suddenly directed into another channel by a very mysterious change of behaviour on the part of the Dodger they were just emerging from a narrow court not far from the open square in Clerkenwell which is yet called by some strange version of terms the green when their Dodger made a stop and laying his finger on her lip drew his companion's back again with the greatest caution in circumspection What's the matter? You mad at Oliver? Oh shh! replied the Dodger Don't you see that old cove at the book's all? The old gentleman over the way said, Oliver, yes I see him He'll do, said the Dodger a prime plant on the nest of Charlie Bates Oliver looked from one to the other with the greatest surprise but he was not permitted to make any inquiries the two boys walked stealthily along the road and slumped clothes behind the old gentleman towards whom his attention had been directed Oliver walked a few paces after them and not knowing whether to advance or retire, stood looking on in silent amazement The old gentleman was a very respectable looking personage with a powered head and gold spectacles He was dressed in a bottle green coat the black velvet colour wore white trousers and carried very smart bamboo cane under his arm He had taken a book from the store and there he stood, reading away as hard as if he were in his elbow chair in his own study It was very possible that he fancied himself there indeed, thought it was plain from his abstraction that he stole not the book store nor the boys nor in short, anything but the book itself but he was reading straight through turning over the leaf when he got to the bottom of a page beginning at the top line of the next one and going regularly on with the greatest interest and eagerness What was Oliver's horror and alarm as he stood a few paces off looking on and his eyelids as wide open as they possibly go to see the dodger plunge his hand into the old gentleman's pocket and thence a handkerchief to see him hand the same as Charlie Bates and finally to behold them both running away around the corner at full speed in an instant the whole mystery of the handkerchiefs and the watches and the jewels and the jewel rushed upon the boys mind He stood for a moment with the blood so tingling through all his veins from terror that he felt as if he were in a burning fire then confused and frightened he took to his heels and knowing what he did made off as fast as he could laying his feet to the ground this was all done in a minute's space in the very instant when Oliver began to run the old gentleman putting his hand to his pocket missing his handkerchiefs turned sharp round seeing the boys cutting away at such rapid pace he very naturally concluded him to be the depth redator and shouting Stop thief with all his might made off after him book in hand but the old gentleman was not the only person who raised the hue and cry the dodger and master Bates unwilling to attract public attention by running down the open street had merely retired into the very first doorway round the corner they knew Serna Una heard the cry and saw Oliver running then guessing exactly how the matter stood they issued forth with a great propititude and shouted who joined in the pursuit like good citizens although Oliver had been brought up by philosophers he was not theoretically acquainted with the beautiful axiom that felt preservation as the first law of nature if he had been perhaps he would have been prepared for this not being prepared however it alarmed him the more so way he went like the wind with the old gentleman and the two boys roaring and shouting behind him Stop thief there is a magic in the sound the tradesman leaves his counter in the car man his wagon the butcher throws down his tray the baker his basket the milkman his pail the errand boy his parcels the school boy his marbles the pavillor his pickaxe the child his battle door away they run hell mel helter skelter slap dash caring yelling screaming knocking down the passengers as they turn the corners raising up the dogs and astonishing the fowls and streets squares and courts re echo with the sound stop thief stop thief the cryers take it up by a hundred voices and the crowd accumulates at every turning away they fly splashing through the mud and rattling around the pavements up go the windows out on the people onward bare the mob audience desert punch in the very thickest of the plot and joining the thrashing throng swell the shout and lend fresh figure to the cry stop thief stop thief stop thief there is a passion for hunting something deeply impanted in the human breast one wretched girthes child panting with exhaustion terror in his looks agony in his eyes large drops of perspiration streaming down strains every nerve to make a head on its pursuers as they follow on his track and gain upon him every instant they hail using strength with joy stop thief stop him for God's sake were it only in mercy stop at last a clever blow is down among the pavement and the crowd eagerly gather round him each new caller jostling and struggling with the others to catch a glimpse stand aside little air nonsense he doesn't deserve it where's the gentleman here he is coming down the street make room for her for the gentleman is this the boy sir yes all of a lay covered with mud and dust and bleeding from the mouth looking wildly round upon the heap of faces that surrounded him when the old gentleman was officially dragged and pushed into the circle by the foremost of the pursuers yes said the gentleman I'm afraid it is the boy afraid murmur the crowd that is a good one poor fellow said the gentleman he's hurt himself I did that sir said great lumber leaf fellow stepping forward and preciously I caught my nugget again on his mouth I stopped him sir the fellow touches hats with the grin expecting something of those pains but the old gentleman eyeing him with an expression of dislike anxiously around as if he contemplated running away himself which is very possible he might have attempted to do thus have afforded another chase and not a police officer which generally the last person to arrive in such cases at that moment made his way through the crowd and seized Oliver by the collar come get up said the man roughly it wasn't me indeed sir indeed it was two other boys said Oliver clasping his hands passionately and looking around they're here somewhere oh no they ain't officer he meant this to be ironical but it was true besides the dodger and Charlie Bates had filed off down the first convenient court they came to come on get up don't hurt him said the old gentleman compassionately oh no I won't hurt him applied the officer tearing his jacket F on his back and proof thereof come I know you it won't do will you stand above your legs you you devil unver who could hardly stand make the shift to raise his on his feet and was at once lugged along the streets by the jacket collar at rapid pace the gentleman walked on with them to either officer's side and as many of the crowd as could achieve the feat got a little ahead and stared back at Oliver from time to time the boys shattered in triumph and on they went end end of chapter 10 chapter number 11 of Oliver twist by Charles Dickens this little rocks recording is in the public domain recording by Arthur Piantidosi chapter 11 treats Mr. Fang on the police magistrate and furnishes a slight specimen of his mode of administering justice the offense had been committed within the district and indeed in the immediate neighborhood of a very notorious metropolitan police office the crowd had only the satisfaction of accompanying Oliver through two or three streets and down a place called Motton Hill when he was led beneath a low archway in Upper Dirty Court into this dispensary of Somerian justice by the back way there's a small paved yard in which they turned and here they encountered a short man with a bunch of whiskers on his face and a bunch of keys in his hand what's the matter now said the man carelessly a young fuggle hunter replied the man who had Oliver in charge are you in a party that's been robbed sir and wired the man with the keys yes I am replied the old gentleman but I'm not sure the boy actually took the handkerchief I would rather not press the case must go but solve the matters now sir replied the man his worship will be disengaged and have a minute now young gallows this was an invitation for Oliver to enter through a door what she unlocked as he spoke which led into a stone cell here he was searched nothing being found upon him locked up this single was in shape and size something like an area cellar only not so light it was most intolerably dirty for it was Monday morning it had been teneted by six drunken people who had been locked up elsewhere since Saturday night but this is a little in our station houses men and women or every night can find on the most trivial charges the word is worth noting in dungeons comparable which those in Newgate occupied by the most atrocious felons tried found guilty in under sentence of death our palaces yet anyone who doubts this compare the two the old gentleman looked almost as rueful as Oliver when the key grated in the lock he turned with a sigh to the book which had been the most innocent case of all in this disturbance there is something in the bad boy's face said the old gentleman to himself as he walked slowly away tapping his chin with the cover of his book in a thoughtful manner something that touches interest me can he be an instant he looked like by the by exclaim the old gentleman halting very abruptly and staring up into the sigh bless my soul what have I seen something like that look before after musing for some minutes the young gentleman walked with the same minute to the face and were back and to opening from the yard and there retiring into a corner called up before his mind a vast amphitheater faces over which a dusky curtain had hung for many years no so the old gentleman shaking his head it must be an imagination he wandered over them again he had called them into view and it was not easy to replace the shroud that had so long concealed them they were the faces of friends and foes and of many than all the strangers appearing intrusively from the crowd they were the faces of young and blooming girls that were now old women they were faces that the grave had changed and closed upon but which the mind superior to its power still dressed in the old freshness and beauty calling back the lustre of the eyes the brightness of the smile the beaming of the soul through its massive clay whispering a beauty beyond the tomb changed but to be heightened and taken from earth only to be set up as a light shed a soft and gentle glow upon the path to heaven but the old gentleman could have called the maintenance of which Bonnevers features bore a trace so he heaved a sigh of a recollection as he awakened and being happily for himself an absent old gentleman buried them again in the pages of the musty book he was roused by touch on its shoulder and a request from the man with the keys to follow him into the office he closed his book case clay and was at once ushered into the imposing presence of a renowned Mr. Fang the office was a front parlor with a burner wall Mr. Fang sat behind the bar at the other end and on one side the door was a sort of wooden pen in which poor little Oliver was already deposited trembling very much at the awfulness of the scene Mr. Fang was a lean long backed stiff necked middle sized man with no great quantity of hair and what he had growing on the back was the size of his head his face was stern and much flush if he were not really not in the habit of drinking rather more than was exactly good for him he might have brought action against his countenance for libel never recovered heavy damages ill gentle and bowed respectfully and advancing to the registrants desk said, suiting action to the word that is my name in address sir he then withdrew a paisal too and made another polite and gentle and conditional ahead waited to be questioned now it so happened that Mr. Fang was at that moment perusing a leading article in the newspaper of the morning advert is aiding to some recent decision of his and commending him for the 350th time there is a special in particular notice from the secretary of state for the home department he was out of temper and he looked up with an angry scowl who are you said Mr. Fang the old gentleman pointed with some surprise to his card officers said Mr. Fang causing the card contemptuously away with the newspaper who is this fellow my name sir said the old gentleman speaking like a gentleman my name sir is Brownlow permit me to inquire the name of the magistrate who offers a gratuities and unprovoked insult to a respectable person under the protection of the bench saying this Mr. Brownlow looked around the officers in search of some person who would afford him the acquired information officer said Mr. Fang throwing a paper to one side what is this fellow charged with he's not charged at all your worship officer he appears against this boy your worship his worship knew this perfectly well it was a good annoyance and a safe one appears against a boy does he said Mr. Fang surveying Mr. Brownlow contemptuously afraid to foot swear him before I am sworn I must say one word said Mr. Brownlow that is I really never without an extra experience could have believed own your tongue sir Mr. Fang preempted the torium I will not sir replied the old gentleman oh your tongue this instant you turned out of the office said Mr. Fang you are an incident impertinent fellow how dare you bully a magistrate what exclaimed the old gentleman reddening swear this person said Fang to the clerk must hear another word swear him Mr. Brownlow's indignation was greatly roused but reflecting perhaps that he might only injure his oppressive feelings and admitted that he swore that at once now said Fang what's the charge against this boy what do you ought to say sir I was standing at a bookstore own your tongue sir said Mr. Fang policeman where's the policeman now policeman what is this the policeman with becoming humiliated how he'd taken the charge how he'd searched all over and found nothing on this person and how that was all he knew about it are there any witnesses inquired Mr. Fang know your worship replied the policeman Mr. Fang sat silent for some minutes and then turned round to the prosecutor said in a towering passion do you mean to state what your complaint against this boy is man or do you not now if you stand there refusing to give evidence I'll punish you for disrespect to the bench by by what or by whom nobody knows if the clerk and jailer caught very loud just at the right moment and the form would drop to heavy book upon the floor thus preventing the word from being heard accidentally of course with many interruptions and repeated insults Mr. Brown know could try to state his case observing that and surprised at the moment he'd run after the boy because he saw him running away expressing his hope that if the magistrate should believe him and not actually the thief to be connected with the thieves would deal as leniently with him as justice would allow he has been hurt already said the old gentleman in intrusion and I fear he added with great energy looking toward the bar I really fear that he is ill oh yes I dare say said Mr. Fang of the sneer come now I know your tricks are you young vagabond do what's your name well never tried to reply but his tongue failed him he was deathly pale the whole place he was turning round and round what's your name you rotten scoundrel and then Mr. Fang officer what's his name this was addressed to a bluff old fellow in a striped waistcoat who was standing by the bar he bent over and repeated the inquiry but finding him really incapable of understanding the question and knowing his not replying would only infuriate the master district more and it adds to the severity of the sentence he has as a guest he says his name saw him white your worship sent kind hearted thief taker oh he won't speak out well of tea and Fang very well very well where does he live where he can your worship glided the officer again pretending to receive one of his answer has he any parents inquired Mr. Fang it's as though he died in his infancy your worship applied the officer it has a thing the usual reply at this point of the inquiry he raised his head and looking round with imploring eyes where made a feeble prayer for a draught of water suffer nonsense Mr. Fang don't try to make a fool of me I think he is really ill your worship when instructed the officer I know better said Mr. Fang take care of him officer the old gentleman raising his hands instinctively you'll fall down send away officer I'd thank let him if he likes all the revealed himself of the kind permission the man in the office looked at each other but no one dared to stir I knew he was shaming Mr. Fang as if this were incontestable proof of the fact let him lie there he will soon be tired of that how do you propose to deal with the case sir inquired the clerk with a low voice summarily implied Mr. Fang he stands convicted for a month's hard labour of course clear the office the door was open for this purpose and a couple of men were preparing to carry the insensible boy to his cell when an endling man of decent but poor appearance clad in an old suit of black rushed hastily in the office and advanced toward the bench stop, stop, don't take him away for heaven's sake stop a moment I had the new co- that this was haste the presiding genie and such an officer as this excised a summary and arbitrated power of the liberties the good name the character almost alive of a majesty's subjects especially for the poorer class and although within such walls enough fantastic tricks are daily played to make the angels blind with weeping they are closed to the public say through the medium of the daily press footnote or were virtually then Mr. Fang was consequently not a little indignant to see an unbidden guest enter in such an irreverent disorder who is this, who is this turn this man out, clear the office alright Mr. Fang I will speak I will not be turned out I saw it all I keep the book soul I demand to be sworn I will not be put down Mr. Fang you must hear me you must refuse sir the man was right his man was determined and the man was growing rather too serious to be hushed up Mr. Fang with a very ill grace now man what are you going to say this said the man I saw three boys two others and a prisoner here loitering on the opposite side of the way when this gentleman was reading the robber who was committed by another boy I saw it done and I saw that this boy was perfectly amazed and stupefied by it having by this time recovered a little breath the worthy book storekeeper proceeded to relate in a more coherent manner the exact circumstances of the robbery why didn't you come here before said Fang after a pause I haven't a soul to mine in the shop implied the man everybody would have called have helped me at joining in the pursuit I could get nobody until five minutes ago and I've run here all the way the prosecutor was reading was he implied bang after another pause yes alright the man very booky as in his hand oh this booky is it dying is it paid for no it is not implied the man with a smile dear me I forgot all about it it slaved the absence of the gentleman innocently a nice person to prefer a chart against a poor boy that Fang with a comical affidavit to good command I consider sir that you obtain possession of the book under very suspicious and discrepulous circumstances you may think yourself very fortunate the owner of the property declined to prosecute let this be a listen to my man or the law will only take you yet the door is dischance clear the office damn me cried the old gentleman bursting out with the rage he kept down to me damn me all clear the office said the magistrate oh first of all steer clear the office it was a bade and the indignant Mr Brown was conveyed out with a book on one hand a little cane in the other in a perfect frenzy of rage and defiance he reached the yard and his passion vanished in a moment little all the twist lay on his back on the pavement with his shirt unbuttoned and his temples bathed with water his face the deathly pale and a cold tremble convulsing his full frame poor boy poor boy said Mr bending over him call hey directly the coach was obtained and Oliver having been carefully laid on the seat the old gentleman got in and sat himself on the other that company said the bookstore keeper looking in bless me yes my dear sir and Mr Brown quickly I forgot you dear dear I have this unhappy book still jump in poor fellow there's no time to lose the bookstore keeper got into the coach in a way they drove end of chapter 11 of Oliver twist chapter number 12 of Oliver twists by Charles Dickens this Levoque's recording is in the public domain this recording by Arthur Piantadosi chapter 12 in which Oliver is taken better care of than he ever was before in which the narrative reverts the merry old gentleman and his useful friends the coach rattled away over nearly the same ground as that which Oliver had first entered London in company with the Dodger and turning a different way when it reached Angel at Islington stopped at length before a neat house in his quiet shady street near Pentonville here a bed was prepared without loss of time in which Mr Brown saw his young charge carefully and actively deposited and here he was tended with a kindness and always a tool that knew no bounds but for many days Oliver remained insensible to all the goodness of his new friends the sun rose and sank and rose and sank again and many times after that instilled the boy and stretched on his uneasy bed dwindling away beneath the rye and wasting heat of fever the worm does not work more surely on the dead body than does the slow creeping fire upon the living frame weak and thin and pallid he awoke at last from what seemed to have been a long and troubled dream fearfully raising himself in the bed with his head resting on the trembling arm he looked angrily round what wrong is this? what have I been brought to? said Oliver there's not a place I would just sleep in he uttered his words in a feeble voice being very faint and weak but they were overheard at once the cut at the bed's head was tasteily drawn back and a motherly old lady very neatly and precisely dressed rose as she would through it from an armchair close by in which she had been sitting and either work oh shall I dear said the old lady very softly you must be quiet and very quiet will you be ill again will you be very bad let's pass back a bit pretty now lie down again there's a dear but those words the old lady very gently placed Oliver's head upon the pillow and smoothing back his hair from his forehead looked so kindly and loving in his face he could not help placing his little withered hand in hers and drawing it round his neck save us and the old lady with cheers in her eyes what a great feeling it is pretty great chair what was his mother feel if he sat by him as I could see him now perhaps she does see this but Oliver folding his hands together perhaps she has said but we how much feels you she had how was the fever my dear sitting old lady mildly I suppose it was applied Oliver because heaven is a long way off and they're too happy there to come down to the bedside of a poor boy but if she knew I was ill she must have pitied me even there but he was very ill before all she died she can't know anything about me though and in Oliver after a moment's silence if she had seen me hurt it would have made her soul full and his face has always looked had eaten happy when I have dreamed of her old lady had no doubt applied to this but wiping her eyes first and his spectacles which lay on the counter pain afterwards heart and parcel of those features brought the same cool stuff for Oliver to drink and then patting him on the cheek told him we must lie very quiet or he would be ill again so Oliver kept very still partly because he was anxious to obey the kind old lady and all things and partly to tell the truth because he was completely exhausted of what he had already said he soon turned into a gentle dose from which he was awakened by the light of a candle which being brought near the bed showed him a gentleman with very large and loud ticking gold watch in his hand who filled his pulse and that he was a great deal better you are a great deal better are you not my dear said the gentleman yes thank you sir replied Oliver yes I know you are said the gentleman you're hungry too said the gentleman no I know you're not is not hungry Miss Bedwin said the gentleman looking very wise the old lady made a respectful inclination of the head which seemed to say that she thought the doctor was a very clever man a doctor appeared much of the same opinion himself feel sleepy don't you my dear said the doctor no sir replied Oliver no said the doctor with a very shrewd and satisfied look he was very sleepy no thirsty are you yes rather thirsty answered Oliver just as I expected Miss Bedwin to the doctor it's very natural he should be thirsty you may give him a little tea ma'am and some dry toast without any butter don't keep him too warm ma'am but be careful you don't let him eat too cold will you of the goodness the old lady dropped a courtesy doctor after tasting the cool stuff the singer qualified approval of it hurried away his boots creaking in a very important and wealthy manner as he went downstairs Oliver dozed off again soon after this when he awoke it was nearly 12 o'clock the old lady tenderly bade him good night shortly afterwards and left him in charge of a fat old woman who had just come bringing with her a little bundle of small prayer booked at a large nightcap putting it later on her head and the former on the table the old woman after telling Oliver that she had come to sit up with him to a chair close to the fire and went off into a series of short naps checkered at frequent intervals with sundry tumblings forward and divers moans and chokings these however had no worse effect than causing her to rub her nose very hard and then fall asleep again and thus the night crept slowly on all of her lay awake for some time counting us little circles of light which are a reflection of the rush light shade upon the ceiling while tracing with her languid eyes the intricate pattern of the paper on the wall the darkness and the deep stillness of the room were very solemn as they brought into the boy's mind the thought that death had been hovering there for many days and nights and might yet fill it with the gloom and dread of his awful presence he turned his head upon the pillow and fervently prayed to heaven gradually he fell into that deep tranquil sleep which eased from recent suffering alone in parts a calm and peaceful rest which is its pain away from who, if this were death would be aroused again to all the struggles and turmoil of life to all its cares for the present anxieties for the future more than all its weary recollections of the past it had been the right day for hours when Oliver opened his eyes he felt cheerful and happy the crisis of the disease was safely passed he belonged to the world again in three days time he was able to sit in an easy chair well propped up with pillows and as he was still too weak to walk Mrs Bedwin had him carried downstairs into the housekeeper's room which belonged to her having him sit here on the fire side the good old lady sat herself down too and being in a state of considerable delighted seeing him so much better for the wit began to cry most violently never mind me my dear this is the old lady I'm only having ready below good cry there it's all over and I'm quite comfortable you're very very kind to me Pam said none of her well never you mind that my dear said that old lady that's got nothing to do with your broth then it's the whole time you had it for the doctor says Mr Brown may come and to see you in this morning we must get up our best looks because the better we look the more he'll be pleased and with this the old lady applied herself to warming up and it into the saucepan a basin for the broth strong enough all of a thought to furnish an ample dinner when reduced to the regulation strength for 550 paupers the lowest computation when he formed the pictures dear inquired the old lady seeing that Oliver fixed his eyes most intently on a portrait which hung against the wall just opposite his chair I don't quite know Pam said although without taking his eyes from the canvas I've seen so few I hardly know what a beautiful, mild-faced led ladies is ah said the old lady paint has always made ladies out prettier than they are or they wouldn't give any custom child the man had invented the machine for taking likenesses might have known they would never succeed it's a deal too honest a deal so the old lady is laughing very hard here to her only cuteness is is that a likeness man so Oliver the old lady going up a moment from the brawl that's a portrait who's man asked Oliver well really my dear I don't know and said the old lady in a human manner it's not a likeness of anybody that you or I know I'd expect it seems to strike your fancy dear it's so pretty right Oliver why sure you're not afraid of it so the old lady observing in great surprise look of awe with which the child regarded the painting oh no no return Oliver quickly but the eyes look so sorrowful and while I said this he fixed it on me he makes my heart beat and then Oliver and her low voice I said if it was alive I wanted to speak to me but I couldn't you don't save us the old lady is starting don't talk that way child you're weak and nervous after your illness let me wheel your chair around to the other side and then you won't see it there! said the old lady suiting action to the word you don't see it now Oliver did see it in his mind's eye as distinctly as if he had not altered his position but he thought it better not to worry the kind old lady and so he smiled gently when she looked at him the red wing satisfied that he felt more comfortable sold it and broke bits of toasted bread into the bro-oath and all the bustle befitting so solemn of preparation Oliver got through it with extraordinary expedition he had scarcely finished a nice spoonful when the game was soft rapid at the door come in said the old lady and in walked Mr Brown there the old gentleman came in his brisk as need be but he had no sooner raised his spectacles on his forehead and thrust his hands behind the skirts of his dressing gown to take a good long look at Oliver his countenance underwent a very great variation of old contortions Oliver looked very worn and shadowy from sickness and made an ineffectual attempt to stand up out of respect to his benefactor which terminated in his sinking back into the chair again and the fact is if the truth must be told that Mr Brown lost heart being large enough for any six ordinary old gentlemen of humane disposition forced a supply of tears into his eyes by some hydraulic process which were not sufficiently philosophical to be in in condition to explain poor boy, poor boy it's at Mr Brown now clearing his throat I'm rather awes this morning Miss Bedwin I'm afraid I have caught cold I hope not sir said Mrs Bedwin everything you had that has been well aired sir I don't know Mr Bedwin I don't know Mr Brown now I'd rather think I had a damp napkin if dinner time nested it but never mind that how do you feel my dear very happy sir replied Oliver and very grateful indeed sir for your goodness to me goodbye said Mr Brown have you given him an nourishment Bedwin any slops you've just had a basin full of beautiful strong broth sir replied Mrs Bedwin drawing herself up slightly laying strong emphasis on the last word to intimate the between slops and broth wheel all compounded there existed no affinity or connection whatsoever ugh Mr Brown now with a shite shower a couple of glasses of Paul's wine would have done him a good more wouldn't there Tom White eh my name is Oliver sir I'd be a little invalid with a great astonishment Oliver said Mr Brown Oliver what Oliver White eh No sir or twist Queer name said the old gentleman did you tell the magistrate your name was White I never told him so sir return Oliver an amazement sounded so like a false hope that the old gentleman looked somewhat stern in Oliver's face it was impossible to doubt it there was truth in every one of its thin, sharp and lineaments some mistake said Mr Brown now but although his motive for looking steadily at Oliver no longer existed the old idea of the resemblance between his features and some familiar face came upon him so strongly that he could not withdraw his gaze I hope you're not aggrieved me sir said Oliver raising his eyes besiegingly no no by the ocean why what's this Bedwin look look there as he spoke he pointed hastily at the picture all over Oliver's head and then to the boy's face there was its living copy their eyes the head the mouth every feature was the same the expression once for the instant so precisely alike that the minutest lines in copied with startling accuracy Oliver knew not the cause of his sudden exclamation for not being strong enough to bear the start it gave him he fainted away witness on his part which affords a narrative opportunity of relieving reader from suspense in behalf of the two young pupils of the merry old gentlemen of recording that when the Dodger and his accomplished friend master Bates joined in the human cry which was raised at Oliver's heels in consequence of their executing and illegal conveyance of Mr Brownlow's personal property which had been described they were actuated by a very laudable and becoming regard for themselves and for as much as the freedom of the subject and the liberty of the individual are among the first and proudest boasts for true hearted Englishmen so I need hardly beg the reader to observe that this action should tend to exalt them in the opinion of all public and patriotic men in almost as great a degree as this strong proof of their own preservation and safety goes to corroborate and affirm the little code of laws which certain profound and sound judging philosophers have laid down as the mainsprings of all nature's deeds and actions are said philosophers very wisely reducing the good ladies proceedings to matters of maxim and theory and by a very neat and pretty compliment to her exalted wisdom and understanding putting entirely out of sight any considerations of heart all generous impulse and feeling for these are matters totally beneath a female who is acknowledged as an universal admission to be far above the numerous little foibles and weaknesses of her sex if I wanted any further proof of the strictly philosophical nature of the conduct of these young gentlemen in the very delicate predicament I should once find it in the fact also recorded in the foregoing part of this narrative of their quitting the pursuit when the general attention was fixed upon Oliver making immediately for their home by the shortest possible cut although I do not mean to assert that as usually the practice for renowned and learned sages to shorten the road to any great conclusion of course instead being rather to lengthen the distance by various circumlocutions and discursive staggerings like unto those in which the drunken men under the pressure of a too mighty blow of ideas are prone to indulge still I do mean to say and do say distinctly that it is the invariable practice of many mighty philosophers in carrying out their theories to enslave wisdom and fall sighted providing against every possible contingency which can be exposed at all likely to affect themselves thus to do a great right you may do a little wrong you may take any means which end to be attained will justify the amount of the right or the amount of the wrong or indeed this distinction between the two being left entirely to the philosopher concerned they be settled in term and by his clear more brilliance of an impartial view of his own particular case it was not until the two boys had scarred with agrippidity through a most intricate maze of narrow streets and courts that they ventured beneath the low and dark arch where having remained silent here just long enough to recover breath speak mr. Bates as an exclamation of amusement light and bursting into an uncontrollable fit of laughter flung himself upon the doorstep and thrill thereafter and transport of mirth ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha what's the matter inquire the dodger all charming Bates out of your noise mistreated their dodger looking all around you ought to be grabbed stupid I can't help it I can't help it to see him spitting away at our pace in cut round corners and knocking our bug into purpose and starting all to get as if he were made to hide as well as them and me with a wipe in my pocket singing out out to him oh my the vivid imagination of master Bates presented the scene for him in two strong colours as he arrived at this apostrophe he again rolled upon the doorstep and laughed louder than before what faggons say inquire the dodger taking advantage of the next interval of breathlessness on the part of his friend to propound that question what bryan John Bates what said the dodger what should he say inquired charlie stopping the dodger's manner was impressive what should he say mr. Dawkins whistled for a few minutes then taking of his hat scratched his head and nodded thrice what would you mean said charlie the frog he wouldn't at night cook a laur said the dodger with a slight sneer on his intellectual countenance this was its plenitorny but not satisfactory but so and it said again what do you mean the dodger made no reply but putting his hat on again and gathering the skirts of his long-tailed coat under his arm thrust his tongue into his cheek slapped the bridge of his nose some half a dozen times unfamiliar but expressive manner and turning on his heels slunk down the court the last debates followed with a thoughtful countenance the noise of footsteps on the creaking stairs a few minutes after the occurrence of this conversation roused the merry old gentleman as he sat over the fire with the sab low and a small loaf in his hand a pocket knife in his right an imputed port on the trivet there was a rascally smile on his white face as he turned round looking sharply out from under his thick red eyebrows bent his ear toward the door and he said why, how's this not of the jewel, changing countenance where's the third again of golden day trouble fuck! the steps approached nearer the door was slowly opened and the dodger and charlie baits entered closing it behind them end of chapter 12 of oliver twist chapter number 13 of oliver twist by charles dickens this lever box recording is in the public domain recording by arthur pieter dosing chapter 13 some new acquaintances are introduced to the intelligent reader connected with whom various pleasant matters are related are pertaining to this history where's oliver to the jewel rising with a minute look where's the boy the young thieves eyed their precipiters as if they were alarmed at his violence it's looked uneasily at each other but they need no reply what's become of the boy to the jewel seizing the dodger and threatening him with horrid implications speak out or I'll throttle you Mr. Fagin looks very much in earnest the charlie baits who deemed it prudent in all cases to be at the unsafe side and conceived it by no means in probable that it might be his turn to be throttled second dropped to it on his knees and raised aloud well sustained and constant in his roar something between a mad bull speaking trumpet will you speak under the jewel shaking the dodger so much that he's keeping in the big coat it all seemed perfectly miraculous what the trups have gone I mean that's all about it that the dodger, selene come let go of me will you and swinging himself at one jerk clean out of the big coat which he left in the jewel's hands the dodger snatched up the toasting fork and made it past the very old gentleman's waistcoat which would have let a little more merriment out than could have easily replaced the jewel stepped back in his emergency with more agility then he could have dissipated in a manner of his apparent decrepitude and seizing up the port pale to hell where it is a selene's head the charlie baits at this moment calling his attention by a perfectly terrifying owl he certainly altered its destination and flung it forward that young gentleman why all the blazes it is in the wind now growed a neat voice who bets that air at me it's well it said beer and not the port it said me and I'd have settled somebody I might have known as nobody but an infernal rich blundering thunder and old jewel could have bought a bro-edded drink but water and all that unless he donned in the river company every quarter what's all he all did about fagging dummy if my eye can't achieve a line with beer come in you sneaky informant what are you stepping outside for as if you were shame your master come in the man growled out these words with a stoutly built fellow of about five and thirty in a black velveteen coat various oil drab breeches lace up half boots and a grey cotton stockings which enclosed a bulky pair of legs with large swelling calves the kind of legs which in such costume always looks in an unfinished and incomplete state without a set of fetters to garnish them yet a brown hat on his head and a dirty belcher hand could shift round his neck with the long flaying ends of which he smeared the beer from his face as he spoke he disclosed when he'd done so a broad heavy countenance with a beard three days growth and two scowling eyes one of which displayed various particulate symptoms of having been damaged by a blow come in dear growled this engaging ruffian a white shaggy dog with his eyes scratched and torn in twenty different places stout into the room what did you come in before the man you're getting too proud to hold me before coming here you lie down this command was coming with a kick but said the animals at the end of the room he appeared well used to it however for he coiled himself up in a corner very quietly without underling the sound and winking his ill looking eyes twenty times in a minute appeared to occupy himself in taking a survey of the apartment what are you up to you've treating the boys a covetous aberritious insatiable old fence said the man seating himself deliberately I wonder they told merciless you I would if I was them if i'd been your printes I'd have done it long ago and I couldn't assure you afterwards we would have taken that nothing but taking a curious of the !! and the glass bottle as boldly as you blow glass bottle large enough you trembling don't speak so loud Nullio, Mr. In, replied the Ruffian. You always mean mischief when you come not. You know my name, I ought wear that. I shan't disgrace anyone the time comes. Well, well, then, bigel Sykes. Is it the Jew with the abject illumination? You see not of humour, Bill. Props I am, replied Sykes. I should thank you was rather out of sorts too, unless you mean as little armour when you throw pewter balls about when you do when you blab. And are you mad? Said of the Jew, catching a man by the sleeve and pointing towards the boys. Mr. Sykes contended himself for tying an imaginary knot under his left ear, and jerking his head out over on the right shoulder, a piece of gum show which the Jew appeared to understand perfectly. He then, in cant terms with which his whole conversation was ultimately besprinkled, but which would be quite unintelligible if they were to call it here to manage a glass of liquor. And mind you don't poison that! Said Mr. Sykes, laying his hat upon the table. This was said in jest, but if the speaker could have seen the evil ear with which the Jew bit his pale lip, as he turned round to the cupboard he might have thought the caution knot early unnecessary. Or the wish, at all events, to improve upon the distiller's ingenuity not very far from the new gentleman's merry heart. After swallowing two or three glasses of spirits, Mr. Sykes condescended to take some notice of the young gentleman which Grace's act led to a conversation in which the chaos and manner of old verse capture were circumstantially detailed. But salt alterations and improvements on the truth, as to the dodger, appeared most advisable under the circumstances. I'm afraid that the Jew that he may say something which will get us into trouble. That's very likely! Not earned Sykes with a malicious grin. You're blown upon, Fagin! I'm very afraid, you see, added the Jew of speaking as if he had not noticed the interruption and regarding the other closely as he did so. I'm afraid that if the game was up with us, it might go up with a good deal more and it would come out rather worse for you than it would for me, my dear. The man started and turned round upon the Jew, but the old gentleman's shoulders were shrugged up to his ears and his eyes were vaguely staring on the opposite wall. There was a long pause. Every member of the respectable Cotieri appeared plunged in his own reflections, not accepting the dog. By a certain malicious licking of his lips seemed to be meditating a tenac upon the legs of the first gentleman or lady he might encounter in the streets when he went out. Someone must find what's been done in the office! And Mr Sykes in much lower tone than he had taken since he came in, a Jew not a descent. If he unpitched and is committed, there's no fear till he comes out again. And Mr Sykes, but then he must be taken care on. You mustn't care over him somehow. Again the Jew nodded. The prudence of this line of action indeed was obvious, but unfortunately there was one very strong objection to its being adopted. This was that the Dodger and Shirley Bates and Faith and Mr William Sykes happened, one and all, to entertain the violent and deep-rooted antipathy to go near a police office on any ground or pretext whatever. How long they might have sat and looked at each other in a state of uncertainty, not the most pleasant of its kind is difficult to guess. It is not necessary to make any guesses on the subject, however. But the sudden entrance of the two young ladies whom Oliver had seen on a formal occasion caused the conversation to flow afresh. The very thing, said the Jew, bet we'll go, won't you, my dear? Where has inquired the young lady? I'll just stop to the office, my dear. So the Jew coaxingly instilled to the young lady, to say that she did not positively affirm that she would not, but that she merely expressed an empathetic and earnest desire to be blessed if she would. A polite and delicate evasion of the request which shows the young lady who'd been possessed of that natural and good breeding inflict upon a crullo-creature in pain of a direct and pointed refusal. The Jew's countenance fell. A turn from this young lady was gaily, not to say gaudily attired, and had gown, retina bolts and yellow curl papers and other female. Nancy, my dear, said the Jew, and so the manner. What do you say? That it won't do. It's so as though it's used to trying it all, Fagan, replied Nancy. What do you mean by that? And Mr. Sykes, looking up in a surly manner, what I say, Bill, implied the lady collectively, Why, you're just a person for it, reasoned Mr. Sykes. Nobody about here knows anything of you. And I don't want them to, neither, replied Nancy in the same pose manner. It's rather more no-than-yes with me, Bill. She'll go, Fagan, said Sykes. No, she won't, Fagan, said Nancy. Yes, she will, Fagan, said Sykes. And Mr. Sykes was right. By the end of alternative threats, promises and bribes, the lady in question was ultimately prevailed upon to undertake the commission. She was not indeed withheld by the same considerations as her agreeable friend, recently removed into the neighbourhood of Field Lane for the remote, but gentile suburb of Ratcliffe. She was not under the same apprehension of being recognised by any of her numerous acquaintances. Accordingly, with a clean white apron tied over her gown and her curl papers tucked under a straw bonnet, both articles of dress being provided from the Jew's inexhaustible stock, Ms. Nancy repaired the issue forth on her errand. Still for a minute, my dear, said the Jew, producing a little-covered basket. Carry that in one hand, it looks more respectable, my dear. Give her a door key to carry in a row, or to store one Fagan, said Sykes, and look real and genuine like. Yes, my dear, it does, if it does. Said the Jew, hanging a large street-door key with the horn of forefinger of the young lady's right hand. They're very good, very good indeed, my dear, said the Jew, rubbing his hands. Oh, my brother, my poor dear, sweet innocent little brother, exclaimed Nancy, bursting into tears and ringing a little basket and a street-door key in an agony of distress. What's this become of him? Where have they taken him to? Oh, do have pity, and tell me what he's done with a poor boy, gentlemen, do, gentlemen, before please, gentlemen, having uttered these words in the most lamentable and heartbroken tone to the immeasurable delight for hear us. Miss Nancy Pauls, winking to the company and nodding a smiley round, and disappeared. Ah, she's a clever girl, my dears, said the Jew, turning round to his young friends and shaking his head gravely, as if in mute admonition to them to follow the bright example they had just beheld. She needs an honour to our sex, said Mr Sykes, filling his glass and smiting a table with an almost fist. Here's to her health and wishing they was all like her. Well, these and many other aconimidiums were being passed on, the accomplished Nancy, that young lady made the best of her way to the police office. With her notwithstanding a little natural timidity consequent upon whittling the streets alone and unprotected, she arrived in perfect safety shortly afterwards. Entering by the back ways, she sapped softly with the key on one of her cell doors and listened. There was no sound within, so she coughed and listened again. Still, there was no reply, so she spoke. No, my dear Nancy, no general voice. No, there was nobody inside, but a miserable shool's criminal had been taken up for playing the flute and who, the offensive in society, having been clearly proven and being very popularly committed by Mr Fang to the House of Friction for one month, with the appropriate amusing remark. Since he had so much breast despair, it would be more wholesome to spend it on a treadmill than in a musical instrument. There made no answer, being occupied mentally whittling the loss of the flute, which had been consecrated for the use of the county. So Nancy passed on the next cell and knocked there. Well, came a fainted feeble voice. Is there a little boy here? Inquired Nancy with a pluminous arm. Oh, oh, oh. No, my dear noise. God forbid! This was a vagrant of 65 who was going to prison for not playing the flute, or in other words, for begging in the streets and doing nothing for his livelihood. In the next cell was another man who was going to the same prison for hawking tin saucepans without licence. Thereby doing something for his living in defiance of a stamp office. But as neither of these criminals answered to the name of Oliver about him, Nancy, he had straight up to the broth officer in the striped waistcoat and with the most piteous waylings and lamentations, erred more piteously by a prompt and ephemeral use of the street door key that little basket demanded her own dear brother. I haven't got a man, my dear. Where is he? The Nancy in instructed manner. Why, the gentleman's got him. And married the officer. What gentleman? Oh, greatest headlands! What gentleman? What gentleman's name, Nancy? In reply to this incoherent questioning the old man informed the deeply affected sister that Oliver had been taken ill in the office and discharge in consequence of a witness having proved that the robbery to have been committed by another boy. Nausein custody and that the prosecutor had carried him away in insensible condition to his own residence, of and concerning which all the informant knew was that it was somewhere in Pentonville he having heard that word mentioned In a dreadful state of doubt and uncertainty the agonised young woman staggered to the gate and then, changing a faltering walk for a swift run, returned by the most devious and complicated route she could think of to the domicile of the jewel. Mr. Bill Sykes no sooner heard the account of the expedition delivered than he had hastily called up the white dog and putting on his hat expeditiously departed out devoting any time to the formality of wishing the company good morning. We must know where he is, my dears. He must be found. So the jewel very great, dear sighted. Charlie, do nothing but sculpt about. Don't you bring on so news of him. Nancy, my dear, I must have him found. I trust to you, my dear. Do you and the artful for everything? Say, stay! I did the jewel unlocking a drawer with a shaking hand. Yes, money, my dears. I shall shut up the shop tonight. You know where to find me. Don't stop here a minute. Not an instant, my dears. With these words he pushed them from the room and carefully double-locking and barring the door behind them, drew from its place a concealment the box which he had unintentionally disclosed to all of her. There he hastily seated to dispose the watchers and jewelry beneath his clothing. A wrap at the door startled him in this occupation. Who's there? He cried in a shrill tone. Me! replied the voice of the dodger through the keyhole. What now? cried the Jew impatiently. As he had been keen on with the other cane, Marcy says, inquired the dodger. Yes, arrived the Jew. Whatever she lays hands on him, find him, find him, out that's all. I shall know what to do next, never fear. The boy murdered a reply of intelligence. He's not peeped so far to the Jew as he pervades with his occupation. If he means to blab at us among his new friends, we may stop at his mouth yet. End of chapter 13 of Oliver Twist.