And His Hopeful Pupils

CHAPTER 4

The Funny Old Gentleman

and His Hopeful Pupils

It was late next morning when Oliver awoke. There was no

other person in the room but Fagin, who was making coffee. Oliver

saw him with his half-closed eyes. When the coffee was ready,

the old man turned round, looked at Oliver, and called him by

his name. Oliver did not answer, and Fagin thought that the boy

was asleep. Then Fagin took a small box from under the floor and

placed it carefully on the table. His eyes glistened as he took from

the box a magnificent gold watch, sparkling with jewels. Then Fagin

took out o f the box such beautiful rings, bracelets and other articles

o f jewellery that Oliver had no idea even o f their names.

Suddenly the old m an ’s dark eyes fell on Oliver’s face. The

b oy’s eyes were fixed on him in mute curiosity. The old man

understood he was observed. He closed the lid o f the box with a

loud crash, and, laying his hand on a bread knife which was on

the table, stood furiously up.

‘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 Fagin fiercely.

‘No! No, indeed!’ replied Oliver.

‘Are you sure?’ cried the old man with a still fiercer look

than before.

‘Upon my word I was not, sir,’ replied Oliver, earnestly. ‘I

was not, indeed, sir.’

‘Very good, my dear!’ said the man, abruptly resuming his old

manner, and playing with the knife a little, just to show it was a

game. ‘O f course 1 know that, my dear. 1 only tried to frighten you.

You’re a brave boy. Ha! You’re a brave boy, Oliver.’ Fagin rubbed

his hands with a chuckle, but glanced uneasily at the box.

‘Did you see any o f these pretty things, my dear?’ said the

old man, laying his hand upon it after a short pause.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Oliver.

‘Ah!’ said the old gentleman, turning rather pale. ‘They —

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;

th a t’s all.’

Oliver thought the old gentleman must be a miser to live

in such a dirty place, with so many valuable things. But then he

thought that perhaps the old gentleman’s fondness for the Dodger

and the other boys cost him a good deal o f money.

‘May I get up, sir?’ asked Oliver.

‘Certainly, my dear, certainly,’ replied the old gentleman.

Oliver got up. When he tu rn e d his h e ad, th e box was

gone.

At this moment Dodger entered the room, accompanied by

a young friend, whom Oliver saw in the evening. He was introduced

to him as Charley Bates. The four sat down to breakfast on

the coffee and some hot rolls and ham which the Dodger brought

home in his hat.

‘Well,’ said Fagin, glancing slyly at Oliver, and addressing

himself to the Dodger, ‘1 hope you’ve been at work this morning,

my dears?’

‘Oh, yes. We’ve worked h a rd,’ replied the Dodger.

‘Good boys, good boys!’ said the old man. ‘What have you

got, Dodger?’

‘A couple o f pocket-books,’ replied the young gentleman.

T h e y are not very heavy,’ said the old man, after looking

at the insides carefully; ‘but very neat and nicely made. Very good

work, isn’t it, Oliver?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Oliver. At which Charley Bates started laughing;

very much to the amazement o f Oliver, who saw nothing to

laugh at.

‘And what have you got, my dear?’ said Fagin to Charley

Bates.

‘Wipes,’ replied Master Bates; at the same time producing

four pocket-handkerchiefs.

‘Well,’ said Fagin, inspecting th em closely; ‘th e y ’re very

good ones, very. You haven’t marked th em well, though, C h a rley;

so we’ll have to pick them out with a needle, and we’ll teach

Oliver how to do it. Oliver, do you want to learn how to do it?

Ha! Ha! Ha!’

‘If you please, sir,’ said Oliver.

‘You’d like to be able to make pocket-handkerchiefs as easy

as Charley Bates, wouldn’t you, my dear?’ said Fagin.

‘Very much, indeed, if you teach me, sir,’ replied Oliver.

Charley Bates saw something so funny in this that he burst

out laughing again.

When the breakfast was cleared away, the merry old gentleman

and the two boys played at a very curious game, which was

performed in this way. The merry old gentleman placed a snuff-box

in one pocket o f his trousers, a note-case in the other, and a watch

in his waistcoat pocket, put his spectacles-case and handkerchief

in his pockets, buttoned his coat tight round him, and trotted up

and down the room with a stick. Sometimes he stopped at the fireplace,

and sometimes at the door, like a man who was staring into

shop-windows. At such times he looked constantly round him for

fear o f thieves and he kept slapping all his pockets in turn to see

that everything was in its place. He did it in such a very funny and

natural way, that Oliver laughed till the tears ran down his face.

All this time, the two boys followed him closely about. They were

getting out o f his sight every time he turned round. The boys did

that so quickly that it was impossible to follow th e ir motions. At

last, the Dodger ran upon his boot accidentally, while Charley Bates

stumbled up against him behind. And in that one moment they

took from him, with the most extraordinary rapidity, his snuff-box,

note-case, watch, pocket-handkerchief, even the spectacles-case. If

the old gentleman felt a hand in any one o f his pockets, he cried

out where it was; and then the game began all over again.

They were still playing the game when a couple o f young

ladies came in. One o f them was Bet, and the other was Nancy.

They were not exactly pretty, perhaps, but they had a great deal

o f colour in their faces, and looked quite stout and hearty. The

visitors stayed for a long time. At length, Fagin gave the young

people some money to spend, and the Dodger, Charley Bates,

and the two young ladies went away together.

‘There, my dear,’ said Fagin. ‘T h a t’s a pleasant life, isn’t it?

They have gone out for the day.’

‘Have they done their work today, sir?’ inquired Oliver.

‘Yes, they have. And they’ve done their work very well. Make

them your models, my dear. Do everything they want you to do

and take their advice in all matters — especially the Dodger’s, my

dear. He'll be a great man himself, and will make you one to o ls

my handkerchief hanging out o f my pocket, my dear?’ said

Fagin, 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 o f the pocket with one hand, as

the Dodger did, and drew the handkerchief lightly out o f it with

the other.

‘Is it gone?’ cried the old gentleman.

‘Here it is, sir,’ said Oliver, showing it in his hand.

‘You’re a 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 o f the time. And now come here, and I ’ll show you

how to take the marks out o f the handkerchiefs.’

Oliver wondered what picking the old gentleman’s pocket in

play had to do with his chances o f being a great man. But, th in k ing

that the old gentleman, being so much his senior, must know

best, he followed him quietly to the table, and was soon deeply

involved in his new study.

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