In the Workhouse

THE FDVENTURES of OLIVER TWIST

Chapter 1

In the Workhouse

Oliver Twist was born in a workhouse. His mother was found lying in the street. Nobody knew where she came from, what her name was or where she was going to. After she gave birth to her child she was very weak, she was dying.

“Doctor, let me see my child, and die,” said the woman. She rose from the pillow, kissed her boy’s forehead with her cold white lips and died.

It was Mr. Bumble, the beadle, the man in charge of the workhouse, who gave Oliver his name. When Oliver was ten months old, they sent him to a branch-workhouse where he was brought up by the elderly Mrs. Mann with other twenty or thirty children. They did not have enough food and they were badly clothed. Of course Mrs. Mann got some money from the parish authorities and she knew what was good for the children but much better she knew what was good for her, so she used the greater part of the money for her own needs.

Oliver Twist’s ninth birthday found him a pale thin child. Soon Mr. Bumble came to take him back to the workhouse where Oliver could be taught a trade. And for the first time a sense of loneliness sank into the child’s heart because he was leaving his friends behind.

Mr. Bumble took Oliver into a large white-washed room, where eight or ten fat gentlemen were sitting round a table. At the top of the table was a particularly fat gentleman with a very round, red face.

“What’s your name, boy?” said the gentleman.

Oliver was frightened at the sight of so many gentlemen, which made him tremble and he began to cry.

“Boy,” said the gentleman, “listen to me. You know you’re an orphan, I suppose?”

“What’s that, sir?” asked poor Oliver.

“The boy is a fool- I thought he was,” said the gentleman in the white waistcoat.

“Hush!” said the gentleman who spoke first. “You know you’ve got no father or mother, and that you were brought up by the parish, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Oliver, weeping bitterly.

“I hope you say your prayers every night,” said another gentleman, “and pray for the people who feed you, and take care of you.”

“Yes, sir,” stammered the boy.

“Well! You have come here to be educated, and taught a useful trade,” said the red-faced gentleman. “So you’ll begin tomorrow morning at six o’clock.”

The life in the workhouse was full of misery. Oliver twist and his companions were always hungry because all the boys were ever fed was gruel. Their bowls never wanted washing. The boys polished them with their spoons till they shone again. One day Oliver was so desperate with hunger that he came up to the master, his bowl and spoon in hand, and said:

“Please, sir, I want some more.”

The master was a fat, healthy man; but he turned very pale. First he looked at Oliver in stupefied astonishment, and then he struck the boy on the head and shrieked for Mr. Bumble. Mr. Bumble locked Oliver in a small dark room, where the boy was crying all day long.

Next morning a note was pasted on the outside of the workhouse gate. Five pounds and Oliver Twist were offered to any man or woman who wanted an apprentice to any trade.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-14