oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第40部分

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coals　today；　and　they’ll　come　back　for　another；　the　day　after　
tomorrow；　as　brazen　as　alabaster。”　

The　matron　expressed　her　entire　concurrence　in　this　
intelligible　simile；　and　the　beadle　went　on。　

“I　never；”　said　Mr。　Bumble；　“see　anything　like　the　pitch　it’s　got　
to。　The　day　afore　yesterday；　a　man—you　have　been　a　married　
woman；　ma’am；　and　I　may　mention　it　to　you—a　man；　with　hardly　a　
rag　upon　his　back　（here　Mrs。　Corney　looked　at　the　floor）；　goes　to　
our　overseer’s　door　when　he　has　got　company　coming　to　dinner；　
and　says；　he　must　be　relieved；　Mrs。　Corney。　As　he　wouldn’t　go　
away；　and　shocked　the　company　very　much；　our　overseer　sent　him　
out　a　pound　of　potatoes　and　half　a　pint　of　oatmeal。　‘My　heart！’　says　
the　ungrateful　villain；　‘what’s　the　use　of　this　to　me？　You　might　as　
well　give　me　a　pair　of　iron　spectacles！’　‘Very　good；’　says　our　
overseer；　taking　’em　away　again；　‘you　won’t　get　anything　else　
here。’　‘Then　I’ll　die　in　the　streets！’　says　the　vagrant。　‘Oh；　no；　you　
won’t；　says　our　overseer。’”　

“Ha！　ha！　That　was　very　good！　So　like　Mr。　Grannett；　wasn’t　it？”　
interposed　the　matron。　“Well；　Mr。　Bumble？”　

“Well；　ma’am；”　rejoined　the　beadle；　“he　went　away；　and　he　did　
die　in　the　streets。　There’s　a　obstinate　pauper　for　you！”　

“It　beats　anything　I　could　have　believed；”　observed　the　matron　
emphatically。　“But　don’t　you　think　out…of…door　relief　a　very　bad　
thing；　anyway；　Mr。　Bumble？　You’re　a　gentleman　of　experience；　
and　ought　to　know。　Come。”　

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“Mrs。　Corney；”　said　the　beadle；　smiling　as　men　smile　who　are　
conscious　of　superior　information；　“out…of…door　relief；　properly　
managed—properly　managed；　ma’am—is　the　parochial　safeguard。　
The　great　principle　of　out…of…door　relief　is；　to　give　the　paupers　
exactly　what　they　don’t　want；　and　then　they　get　tired　of　coming。”　

“Dear　me！”　exclaimed　Mrs。　Corney。　“Well；　that　is　a　good　one；　
too！”　

“Yes。　Betwixt　you　and　me；　ma’am；”　returned　Mr。　Bumble；　
“that’s　the　great　principle；　and　that’s　the　reason　why；　if　you　look　at　
any　cases　that　get　into　them　owdacious　newspapers；　you’ll　always　
observe　that　sick　families　have　been　relieved　with　slices　of　cheese。　
That’s　the　rule　now；　Mrs。　Corney；　all　over　the　country。　But；　
however；”　said　the　beadle；　stopping　to　unpack　his　bundle；　“these　
are　official　secrets；　ma’am；　not　to　be　spoken　of；　except；　as　I　may　
say；　among　the　parochial　officers；　such　as　ourselves。　This　is　the　
port　wine；　ma’am；　that　the　Board　ordered　for　the　infirmary：　real；　
fresh；　genuine　port　wine；　only　out　of　the　cask　this　forenoon；　clear　
as　a　bell；　and　no　sediment！”　

Having　held　the　first　bottle　up　to　the　light；　and　shaken　it　well　to　
test　its　excellence；　Mr。　Bumble　placed　them　both　on　top　of　a　chest　
of　drawers；　folded　the　handkerchief　in　which　they　had　been　
wrapped；　put　it　carefully　in　his　pocket；　and　took　up　his　hat；　as　if　to　
go。　

“You’ll　have　a　very　cold　walk；　Mr。　Bumble；”　said　the　matron。　

“It　blows；　ma’am；”　replied　Mr。　Bumble；　turning　up　his　coat…
collar；　“enough　to　cut　one’s　ears　off。”　

The　matron　looked；　from　the　little　kettle；　to　the　beadle；　who　was　
moving　towards　the　door；　and　as　the　beadle　coughed；　preparatory　
to　bidding　her　good…night；　bashfully　inquired　whether—whether　

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he　wouldn’t　take　a　cup　of　tea？　

Mr。　Bumble　instantaneously　turned　back　his　collar　again；　laid　
his　hat　and　stick　upon　a　chair；　and　drew　another　chair　up　to　the　
table。　As　he　slowly　seated　himself；　he　looked　at　the　lady。　She　fixed　
her　eyes　upon　the　little　teapot。　Mr。　Bumble　coughed　again；　and　
slightly　smiled。　

Mrs。　Corney　rose　to　get　another　cup　and　saucer　from　the　closet。　
As　she　sat　down；　her　eyes　once　again　encountered　those　of　the　
gallant　beadle；　she　coloured；　and　applied　herself　to　the　task　of　
making　his　tea。　Again　Mr。　Bumble　coughed—louder　this　time　than　
he　had　coughed　yet。　

“Sweet；　Mr。　Bumble？”　inquired　the　matron；　taking　up　the　
sugar…basin。　

“Very　sweet；　indeed；　ma’am；”　replied　Mr。　Bumble。　He　fixed　his　
eyes　on　Mrs。　Corney　as　he　said　this；　and　if　ever　a　beadle　looked　
tender；　Mr。　Bumble　was　that　beadle　at　that　moment。　

The　tea　was　made；　and　handed　in　silence。　Mr。　Bumble；　having　
spread　a　handkerchief　over　his　knees　to　prevent　the　crumbs　from　
sullying　the　splendour　of　his　shorts；　began　to　eat　and　drink；　
varying　these　amusements；　occasionally；　by　fetching　a　deep　sigh；　
which；　however；　had　no　injurious　effect　upon　his　appetite；　but；　on　
the　contrary；　rather　seemed　to　facilitate　his　operations　in　the　tea　
and　toast　department。　

“You　have　a　cat；　ma’am；　I　see；”　said　Mr。　Bumble；　glancing　at　
one　who；　in　the　centre　of　her　family；　was　basking　before　the　fire；　
“and　kittens　too；　I　declare！”　

“I　am　so　fond　of　them；　Mr。　Bumble；　you　can’t　think；”　replied　the　
matron。　“They’re　so　happy；　so　frolicsome；　and　so　cheerful；　that　
they　are　quite　companions　for　me。”　

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“Very　nice　animals；　ma’am；”　replied　Mr。　Bumble　approvingly；　
“so　very　domestic。”　

“Oh；　yes！”　rejoined　the　matron；　with　enthusiasm；　“so　fond　of　
their　home；　too；　that　it’s　quite　a　pleasure；　I’m　sure。”　

“Mrs。　Corney；　ma’am；”　said　Mr。　Bumble；　slowly；　and　marking　
the　time　with　his　teaspoon。　“I　mean　to　say　this；　ma’am；　that　any　
cat；　or　kitten；　that　could　live　with　you；　ma’am；　and　not　be　fond　of　
its　home；　must　be　a　ass；　ma’am。”　

“Oh；　Mr。　Bumble！”　remonstrated　Mrs。　Corney。　

“It’s　of　no　use　disguising　facts；　ma’am；”　said　Mr。　Bumble；　slowly　
flourishing　the　teaspoon　with　a　kind　of　amorous　dignity　which　
made　him　doubly　impressive；　“I　would　drown　it　myself；　with　
pleasure。”　

“Then　you’re　a　cruel　man；”　said　the　matron　vivaciously；　as　she　
held　out　her　hand　for　the　beadle’s　cup；　“and　a　very　hard…hearted　
man　besides。”　

“Hard…hearted；　ma’am？”　said　Mr。　Bumble。　“Hard？”　Mr。　
Bumble　resigned　his　cup　without　another　word；　squeezed　Mrs。　
Corney’s　little　finger　as　she　took　it；　and　inflicting　two　open…handed　
slaps　upon　his　laced　waistcoat；　gave　a　mighty　sigh；　and　hitched　his　
chair　a　very　little　morsel　farther　from　the　fire。　

It　was　a　round　table；　and　as　Mrs。　Corney　and　Mr。　Bumble　had　
been　sitting　opposite　each　other；　with　no　great　space　between　
them；　and　fronting　the　fire；　it　will　be　seen　that　Mr。　Bumble；　in　
receding　from　the　fire；　and　still　keeping　at　the　table；　increased　the　
distance　between　himself　and　Mrs。　Corney；　which　proceeding　
some　prudent　readers　will　doubtless　be　disposed　to　admire；　and　to　
consider　an　act　of　great　heroism　on　Mr。　Bumble’s　part：　he　being　in　
some　sort　tempted　by　time；　place；　and　opportunity；　to　give　

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utterance　to　certain　soft　nothings；　which；　however　well　they　may　
become　the　lips　of　the　light　and　thoughtless；　so　seem　
immeasurably　beneath　the　dignity　of　judges　of　the　land；　members　
of　parliament；　ministers　of　state；　lord　mayors；　and　other　great　
public　functionaries　but　more　particularly　beneath　the　stateliness　
and　gravity　of　a　beadle；　who　（as　is　well　known）　should　be　the　
sternest　and　most　inflexible　among　them　all。　

Whatever　were　Mr。　Bumble’s　intentions；　however　（and　no　
doubt　they　were　of　the　best）；　it　unfortunately　happened；　as　has　
been　twice　before　remarked；　that　the　table　was　a　round　one；　
consequently　Mr。　Bumble；　moving　his　chair　by　little　and　little；　
soon　began　to　diminish　the　distance　between　himself　and　the　
matron；　and；　continuing　to　travel　round　the　outer　edge　of　the　
circle；　brought　his　chair；　in　time；　close　to　that　in　which　the　matron　
was　seated。　Indeed；　the　two　chairs　touched；　and　when　they　did　so；　
Mr。　Bumble　stopped。　

Now；　if　the　matron　had　moved　her　chair　to　the　right；　she　would　
have　been　scorched　by　the　fire；　and　if　to　the　left；　she　must　have　
fallen　into　Mr。　Bumble’s　arms；　so　（being　a　discreet　matron；　and　no　
doubt　foreseeing　these　consequences　at　a　glance）　she　remained　
where　she　was；　and　handed　Mr。　Bumble　another　cup　of　tea。　

“Hard…hearted；　Mrs。　Corney？”　said　Mr。　Bumble；　stirring　his　tea；　
and　looking　up　into　the　matron’s　face；　“are　you　hardhearted；　Mrs。　
Corney？”　

“Dear　me！”　exclaimed　the　matron；　“what　a　very　curious　
question　from　a　single　man。　What　can　you　want　to　know　for；　Mr。　
Bumble？”　

The　beadle　drank　his　tea　to　the　last　drop；　finished　a　piece　of　
toast；　whisked　the　crumbs　off　his　knees；　wiped　his　lips；　and　

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deliberately　kissed　the　matron。　

“Mr。　Bumble！”　cried　that　discreet　lady　in　a　whisper；　for　the　
fright　was　so　great；　that　she　had　quite　lost　her　voice：　“Mr。　Bumble；　
I　shall　scream！”　Mr。　Bumble　made　no　reply；　but　in　a　slow　and　
dignified　manner；　put　his　arm　round　the　matron’s　waist。　

As　the　lady　had　stated　her　intention　of　screaming；　of　course　she　
would　have　screamed　at　this　additional　boldness；　but　that　the　
exertion　was　rendered　unnecessary　by　a　hasty　knocking　at　the　
door；　which　was　no　sooner　heard；　than　Mr。　Bumble　darted；　with　
much　agility；　to　the　wine　bottles；　and　began　dusting　them　with　
great　violence；　while　the　matron　sharply　demanded　who　was　
there。　It　is　worthy　of　remark；　as　a　curious　physical　instance　of　the　
efficacy　of　a　sudden　surprise　in　counteracting　the　effects　of　
extreme　fear；　that　her　voice　had　quite　recovered　all　its　official　
asperity。　

“If　you　please；　mistress；”　said　a　withered　old　female　pauper；　
hideously　ugly；　putting　her　head　in　at　the　door；　“old　Sally　is　a…
going　fast。”　

“Well；　what’s　that　to　me？”　angrily　demanded　the　matron。　“I　
can’t　keep　her　alive；　can　I？”　

“No；　no；　mistress；”　replied　the　old　woman；　“nobody　can；　she’s　
far　beyond　the　reach　of　help。　I’ve　seen　a　many　people　die；　little　
babies　and　great　strong　men；　and　I　know　when　death’s　a…coming；　
well　enough。　But　she’s　troubled　in　her　mind；　and　when　the　fits　are　
not　on　her；　and　that’s　not　often；　for　she　is　dying　very　hard—she　
says　she　has　got　something　to　tell；　which　you　must　hear。　She’ll　
never　die　quiet　till　you　co