oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第2部分

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considerable　doubt　whether　the　child　would　survive　to　bear　any　
name　at　all；　in　which　case　it　is　somewhat　more　than　probable　that　
these　memoirs　would　never　have　appeared；　or；　if　they　had；　that　
being　comprised　within　a　couple　of　pages；　they　would　have　
possessed　the　inestimable　merit　of　being　the　most　concise　and　
faithful　specimen　of　biography；　extant　in　the　literature　of　any　age　
or　country。　

Although　I　am　not　disposed　to　maintain　that　the　being　born　in　a　
workhouse；　is　in　itself　the　most　fortunate　and　enviable　
circumstance　that　can　possibly　befall　a　human　being；　I　do　mean　to　
say　that　in　this　particular　instance；　it　was　the　best　thing　for　Oliver　
Twist　that　could　by　possibility　have　occurred。　The　fact　is；　that　

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Oliver　Twist　

there　was　considerable　difficulty　in　inducing　Oliver　to　take　upon　
himself　the　office　of　respiration—a　troublesome　practice；　but　one　
which　custom　has　rendered　necessary　to　our　easy　existence；　and　
for　some　time　he　lay　gasping　on　a　little　flock　mattress；　rather　
unequally　poised　between　this　world　and　the　next：　the　balance　
being　decidedly　in　favour　of　the　latter。　Now；　if；　during　this　brief　
period；　Oliver　had　been　surrounded　by　careful　grandmothers；　
anxious　aunts；　experienced　nurses；　and　doctors　of　profound　
wisdom；　he　would　most　inevitably　and　indubitably　have　been　
killed　in　no　time。　There　being　nobody　by；　however；　but　a　pauper　
old　woman；　who　was　rendered　rather　misty　by　an　unwonted　
allowance　of　beer；　and　a　parish　surgeon　who　did　such　matters　by　
contract；　Oliver　and　Nature　fought　out　the　point　between　them。　
The　result　was；　that；　after　a　few　struggles；　Oliver　breathed；　
sneezed；　and　proceeded　to　advertise　to　the　inmates　of　the　
workhouse　the　fact　of　a　new　burden　having　been　imposed　upon　
the　parish；　by　setting　up　as　loud　a　cry　as　could　reasonably　have　
been　expected　from　a　male　infant　who　had　not　been　possessed　of　
that　very　useful　appendage；　a　voice；　for　a　much　longer　space　of　
time　than　three　minutes　and　a　quarter。　

As　Oliver　gave　this　first　proof　of　the　free　and　proper　action　of　
his　lungs；　the　patchwork　coverlet　which　was　carelessly　flung　over　
the　iron　bedstead　rustled；　the　pale　face　of　a　young　woman　was　
raised　feebly　from　the　pillow；　and　a　faint　voice　imperfectly　
articulated　the　words；　“Let　me　see　the　child；　and　die。”　

The　surgeon　had　been　sitting　with　his　face　turned　towards　the　
fire；　giving　the　palms　of　his　hands　a　warm　and　a　rub　alternately。　
As　the　young　woman　spoke；　he　rose；　and　advancing　to　the　bed’s　
head；　said；　with　more　kindness　than　might　have　been　expected　of　

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Oliver　Twist　

him：　

“Oh；　you　must　not　talk　about　dying　yet。”　

“Lor　bless　her　dear　heart；　no！”　interposed　the　nurse；　hastily　
depositing　in　her　pocket　a　green　glass　bottle；　the　contents　of　which　
she　had　been　tasting　in　a　corner　with　evident　satisfaction。　“Lor　
bless　her　dear　heart；　when　she　has　lived　as　long　as　I　have；　sir；　and　
had　thirteen　children　of　her　own；　and　all　on　’em　dead　except　two；　
and　them　in　the　wurkus　with　me；　she’ll　know　better　than　to　take　
on　in　that　way；　bless　her　dear　heart！　Think　what　it　is　to　be　a　
mother；　there’s　a　dear　young　lamb；　do。”　

Apparently　this　consolatory　perspective　of　a　mother’s　prospects　
failed　in　producing　its　due　effect。　The　patient　shook　her　head；　and　
stretched　out　her　hand　towards　the　child。　

The　surgeon　deposited　it　in　her　arms。　She　imprinted　her　cold　
white　lips　passionately　on　its　forehead；　passed　her　hands　over　her　
face；　gazed　wildly　round；　shuddered；　fell　back—and　died。　They　
chafed　her　breast；　hands；　and　temples；　but　the　blood　had　stopped　
for　ever。　They　talked　of　hope　and　comfort。　They　had　been　
strangers　too　long。　

“It’s　all　over；　Mrs。　Thingummy！”　said　the　surgeon　at　last。　

“Ah；　poor　dear；　so　it　is！”　said　the　nurse；　picking　up　the　cork　of　
the　green　bottle；　which　had　fallen　out　on　the　pillow；　as　she　stooped　
to　take　up　the　child。　“Poor　dear！”　

“You　needn’t　mind　sending　up　to　me；　if　the　child　cries；　nurse；”　
said　the　surgeon；　putting　on　his　gloves　with　great　deliberation。　
“It’s　very　likely　it　will　be　troublesome。　Give　it　a　little　gruel　if　it　is。”　
He　put　on　his　hat；　and；　pausing　by　the　bedside　on　his　way　to　the　
door；　added；　“She　was　a　good…looking　girl；　too；　where　did　she　
come　from？”　

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Oliver　Twist　

“She　was　brought　here　last　night；”　replied　the　old　woman；　“by　
the　overseer’s　order。　She　was　found　lying　in　the　street。　She　had　
walked　some　distance；　for　her　shoes　were　worn　to　pieces；　but　
where　she　came　from；　or　where　she　was　going　to；　nobody　knows。”　

The　surgeon　leaned　over　the　body；　and　raised　the　left　hand。　
“The　old　story；”　he　said；　shaking　his　head：　“no　wedding　ring；　I　see。　
Ah！　Good…night！”　

The　medical　gentleman　walked　away　to　dinner；　and　the　nurse；　
having　once　more　applied　herself　to　the　green　bottle；　sat　down　on　
a　low　chair　before　the　fire；　and　proceeded　to　dress　the　infant。　

What　an　excellent　example　of　the　power　of　dress　young　Oliver　
Twist　was　I　Wrapped　in　the　blanket　which　had　hitherto　formed　his　
only　covering；　he　might　have　been　the　child　of　a　nobleman　or　a　
beggar；　it　would　have　been　hard　for　the　haughtiest　stranger　to　
have　assigned　him　his　proper　station　in　society。　But　now　that　he　
was　enveloped　in　the　old　calico　robes　which　had　grown　yellow　in　
the　same　service；　he　was　badged　and　ticketed；　and　fell　into　his　
place　at　once—a　parish　child—the　orphan　of　a　workhouse—the　
humble；　half…starved　drudge—to　be　cuffed　and　buffeted　through　
the　world—despised　by　all；　and　pitied　by　none。　

Oliver　cried　lustily。　If　he　could　have　known　that　he　was　an　
orphan；　left　to　the　tender　mercies　of　church…wardens　and　
overseers；　perhaps　he　would　have　cried　the　louder。　

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Oliver　Twist　

Chapter　2　

Treats　Of　Oliver　Twist’s　Growth；　Education；　And
Board。


For　the　next　eight　or　ten　months；　Oliver　was　the　victim　of　a　
systematic　course　of　treachery　and　deception。　He　was　
brought　up　by　hand。　The　hungry　and　destitute　situation　of　
the　infant　orphan　was　duly　reported　by　the　workhouse　authorities　
to　the　parish　authorities。　The　parish　authorities　inquired　with　
dignity　of　the　workhouse　authorities；　whether　there　was　no　female　
then　domiciled　in　“the　house”　who　was　in　a　situation　to　impart　to　
Oliver　Twist　the　consolation　and　nourishment　of　which　he　stood　in　
need。　The　workhouse　authorities　replied　with　humility；　that　there　
was　not。　Upon　this；　the　parish　authorities　magnanimously　and　
humanely　resolved；　that　Oliver　should　be　“farmed”　or；　in　other　
words；　that　he　should　be　despatched　to　a　branch　workhouse　some　
three　miles　off；　where　twenty　or　thirty　other　juvenile　offenders　
against　the　poor…laws　rolled　about　the　floor　all　day；　without　the　
inconvenience　of　too　much　food　or　too　much　clothing；　under　the　
parental　superintendence　of　an　elderly　female；　who　received　the　
culprits　at　and　for　the　consideration　of　sevenpence…halfpenny　per　
small　head　per　week。　Sevenpence…halfpenny’s　worth　per　week　is　a　
good　round　diet　for　a　child；　a　great　deal　may　be　got　for　
sevenpence…halfpenny—quite　enough　to　overload　its　stomach；　and　
make　it　uncomfortable。　The　elderly　female　was　a　woman　of　
wisdom　and　experience；　she　knew　what　was　good　for　children；　
and　she　had　a　very　accurate　perception　of　what　was　good　for　

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Oliver　Twist　

herself。　So；　she　appropriated　the　greater　part　of　the　weekly　
stipend　to　her　own　use；　and　consigned　the　rising　parochial　
generation　to　even　a　shorter　allowance　than　was　originally　
provided　for　them。　Thereby　finding　in　the　lowest　depth　a　deeper　
still；　and　proving　herself　a　very　great　experimental　philosopher。　

Everybody　knows　the　story　of　another　experimental　
philosopher　who　had　a　great　theory　about　a　horse　being　able　to　
live　without　eating；　and　who　demonstrated　it　so　well；　that　he　got　
his　own　horse　down　to　a　straw　a　day；　and　would　most　
unquestionably　have　rendered　him　a　very　spirited　and　rampacious　
animal　on　nothing　at　all；　if　he　had　not　died；　four　and　twenty　hours　
before　he　was　to　have　had　his　first　comfortable　bait　of　air。　
Unfortunately　for　the　experimental　philosophy　of　the　female　to　
whose　protecting　care　Oliver　Twist　was　delivered　over；　a　similar　
result　usually　attended　the　operation　of　her　system；　for　at　the　very　
moment　when　a　child　had　contrived　to　exist　upon　the　smallest　
possible　portion　of　the　weakest　possible　food；　it　did　perversely　
happen　in　eight　and　a　half　cases　out　of　ten；　either　that　it　sickened　
from　want　and　cold；　or　fell　into　the　fire　from　neglect；　or　got　half…
smothered　by　accident；　in　any　one　of　which　cases；　the　miserable　
little　being；　was　usually　summoned　into　another　world；　and　there　
gathered　to　the　fathers　it　had　never　known　in　this。　

Occasionally；　when　there　was　some　more　than　usually　
interesting　inquest　upon　a　parish　child　who　had　been　overlooked　
in　turning　up　a　bedstead；　or　inadvertently　scalded　to　death　when　
there　happened　to　be　a　washing—though　the　latter　accident　was　
very　scarce；　anything　approaching　to　a　washing　being　of　rare　
occurrence　in　the　farm—the　jury　would　take　it　into　their　heads　to　
ask　troublesome　questions；　or　the　parishioners　would　rebelliously　

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Oliver　Twist　

affix　their　signatures　to　a　remonstrance。　But　these　impertinences　
were　speedily　checked　by　the　evidence　of　the　surgeon；　and　the　
testimony　of　the　beadle；　the　former　of　whom　had　always　opened　
the　body　and　found　nothing　inside　（which　was　very　probable　
indeed）　and　the　latter　of　whom　invariably　swore　whatever　the　
parish　wanted；　which　was　very　self…devotional。　Besides；　the　Board　
made　periodical　pilgrimages　to　the　farm；　and　always　sent　the　
beadle　the　day　before；　to　say　they　were　going。　The　children　were　
neat　and　clean　to　behold；　when　they　went；　and　what　more　would　
the　people　have！　

It　cannot　be　expected　that　this　system　of　farming　would　
produce　any　very　extraordinary　or　luxuriant　crop。　Oliver　Twist’s　
ninth　birthday　found　him　a　pale；　thin　child；　somewhat　diminu