Oliver Twist
OR
THE PARISH BOY’S PROGRESS
by Charles Dickens
Contents
I TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORN AND OF THE
CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH
II TREATS OF OLIVER TWIST’S GROWTH, EDUCATION, AND BOARD
III RELATES HOW OLIVER TWIST WAS VERY NEAR GETTING A PLACE WHICH
WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SINECURE
IV OLIVER, BEING OFFERED ANOTHER PLACE, MAKES HIS FIRST ENTRY
INTO PUBLIC LIFE
V OLIVER MINGLES WITH NEW ASSOCIATES. GOING TO A FUNERAL FOR THE
FIRST TIME, HE FORMS AN UNFAVOURABLE NOTION OF HIS MASTER’S
BUSINESS
VI OLIVER, BEING GOADED BY THE TAUNTS OF NOAH, ROUSES INTO
ACTION, AND RATHER ASTONISHES HIM
VII OLIVER CONTINUES REFRACTORY
VIII OLIVER WALKS TO LONDON. HE ENCOUNTERS ON THE ROAD A STRANGE
SORT OF YOUNG GENTLEMAN
IX CONTAINING FURTHER PARTICULARS CONCERNING THE PLEASANT OLD
GENTLEMAN, AND HIS HOPEFUL PUPILS
X OLIVER BECOMES BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE CHARACTERS OF HIS
NEW ASSOCIATES; AND PURCHASES EXPERIENCE AT A HIGH PRICE.
BEING A SHORT, BUT VERY IMPORTANT CHAPTER, IN THIS HISTORY
XI TREATS OF MR. FANG THE POLICE MAGISTRATE; AND FURNISHES A
SLIGHT SPECIMEN OF HIS MODE OF ADMINISTERING JUSTICE
XII IN WHICH OLIVER IS TAKEN BETTER CARE OF THAN HE EVER WAS
BEFORE. AND IN WHICH THE NARRATIVE REVERTS TO THE MERRY OLD
GENTLEMAN AND HIS YOUTHFUL FRIENDS.
XIII SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES ARE INTRODUCED TO THE INTELLIGENT
READER, CONNECTED WITH WHOM VARIOUS PLEASANT MATTERS ARE
RELATED, APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY
XIV COMPRISING FURTHER PARTICULARS OF OLIVER’S STAY AT MR.
BROWNLOW’S, WITH THE REMARKABLE PREDICTION WHICH ONE MR.
GRIMWIG UTTERED CONCERNING HIM, WHEN HE WENT OUT ON AN ERRAND
XV SHOWING HOW VERY FOND OF OLIVER TWIST, THE MERRY OLD JEW AND
MISS NANCY WERE
XVI RELATES WHAT BECAME OF OLIVER TWIST, AFTER HE HAD BEEN CLAIMED
BY NANCY
XVII OLIVER’S DESTINY CONTINUING UNPROPITIOUS, BRINGS A GREAT MAN
TO LONDON TO INJURE HIS REPUTATION
XVIII HOW OLIVER PASSED HIS TIME IN THE IMPROVING SOCIETY OF HIS
REPUTABLE FRIENDS
XIX IN WHICH A NOTABLE PLAN IS DISCUSSED AND DETERMINED ON
XX WHEREIN OLIVER IS DELIVERED OVER TO MR. WILLIAM SIKES
XXI THE EXPEDITION
XXII THE BURGLARY
XXIII WHICH CONTAINS THE SUBSTANCE OF A PLEASANT CONVERSATION
BETWEEN MR. BUMBLE AND A LADY; AND SHOWS THAT EVEN A BEADLE
MAY BE SUSCEPTIBLE ON SOME POINTS
XXIV TREATS ON A VERY POOR SUBJECT, BUT IS A SHORT ONE, AND MAY BE
FOUND OF IMPORTANCE IN THIS HISTORY
XXV WHEREIN THIS HISTORY REVERTS TO MR. FAGIN AND COMPANY
XXVI IN WHICH A MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER APPEARS UPON THE SCENE; AND
MANY THINGS, INSEPARABLE FROM THIS HISTORY, ARE DONE AND
PERFORMED
XXVII ATONES FOR THE UNPOLITENESS OF A FORMER CHAPTER; WHICH
DESERTED A LADY, MOST UNCEREMONIOUSLY
XXVIII LOOKS AFTER OLIVER, AND PROCEEDS WITH HIS ADVENTURES
XXIX HAS AN INTRODUCTORY ACCOUNT OF THE INMATES OF THE HOUSE, TO
WHICH OLIVER RESORTED
XXX RELATES WHAT OLIVER’S NEW VISITORS THOUGHT OF HIM
XXXI INVOLVES A CRITICAL POSITION
XXXII OF THE HAPPY LIFE OLIVER BEGAN TO LEAD WITH HIS KIND FRIENDS
XXXIII WHEREIN THE HAPPINESS OF OLIVER AND HIS FRIENDS, EXPERIENCES A
SUDDEN CHECK
XXXIV CONTAINS SOME INTRODUCTORY PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO A YOUNG
GENTLEMAN WHO NOW ARRIVES UPON THE SCENE; AND A NEW ADVENTURE
WHICH HAPPENED TO OLIVER
XXXV CONTAINING THE UNSATISFACTORY RESULT OF OLIVER’S ADVENTURE;
AND A CONVERSATION OF SOME IMPORTANCE BETWEEN HARRY MAYLIE AND
ROSE
XXXVI IS A VERY SHORT ONE, AND MAY APPEAR OF NO GREAT IMPORTANCE IN
ITS PLACE, BUT IT SHOULD BE READ NOTWITHSTANDING, AS A SEQUEL
TO THE LAST, AND A KEY TO ONE THAT WILL FOLLOW WHEN ITS TIME
ARRIVES
XXXVII IN WHICH THE READER MAY PERCEIVE A CONTRAST, NOT UNCOMMON IN
MATRIMONIAL CASES
XXXVIII CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF WHAT PASSED BETWEEN MR. AND MRS.
BUMBLE, AND MR. MONKS, AT THEIR NOCTURNAL INTERVIEW
XXXIX INTRODUCES SOME RESPECTABLE CHARACTERS WITH WHOM THE READER IS
ALREADY ACQUAINTED, AND SHOWS HOW MONKS AND THE JEW LAID THEIR
WORTHY HEADS TOGETHER
XL A STRANGE INTERVIEW, WHICH IS A SEQUEL TO THE LAST CHAMBER
XLI CONTAINING FRESH DISCOVERIES, AND SHOWING THAT SUPRISES, LIKE
MISFORTUNES, SELDOM COME ALONE
XLII AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE OF OLIVER’S, EXHIBITING DECIDED MARKS OF
GENIUS, BECOMES A PUBLIC CHARACTER IN THE METROPOLIS
XLIII WHEREIN IS SHOWN HOW THE ARTFUL DODGER GOT INTO TROUBLE
XLIV THE TIME ARRIVES FOR NANCY TO REDEEM HER PLEDGE TO ROSE
MAYLIE. SHE FAILS.
XLV NOAH CLAYPOLE IS EMPLOYED BY FAGIN ON A SECRET MISSION
XLVI THE APPOINTMENT KEPT
XLVII FATAL CONSEQUENCES
XLVIII THE FLIGHT OF SIKES
XLIX MONKS AND MR. BROWNLOW AT LENGTH MEET. THEIR CONVERSATION, AND
THE INTELLIGENCE THAT INTERRUPTS IT
L THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE
LI AFFORDING AN EXPLANATION OF MORE MYSTERIES THAN ONE, AND
COMPREHENDING A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE WITH NO WORD OF
SETTLEMENT OR PIN-MONEY
LII FAGIN’S LAST NIGHT ALIVE
LIII AND LAST
CHAPTER I.
TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORN AND OF THE
CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH
Among other public buildings in a certain town, which for many reasons
it will be prudent to refrain from mentioning, and to which I will
assign no fictitious name, there is one anciently common to most towns,
great or small: to wit, a workhouse; and in this workhouse was born; on
a day and date which I need not trouble myself to repeat, inasmuch as
it can be of no possible consequence to the reader, in this stage of
the business at all events; the item of mortality whose name is
prefixed to the head of this chapter.
For a long time after it was ushered into this world of sorrow and
trouble, by the parish surgeon, it remained a matter of 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 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 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 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 forever. 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 bed-side on his way to the door,
added, “She was a good-looking girl, too; where did she come from?”
“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! 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 churchwardens and overseers, perhaps he
would have cried the louder.