Oliver Twist
End of Chapter 2
The room in which the boys were
fed, was a large stone hall, with a
copper at one end: out of which the master, dressed in an apron for the
purpose, and assisted by one or two women, ladled the gruel at
meal-times. Of
this festive composition each boy had one porringer, and no more --
except on
occasions of great public rejoicing, when he had two ounces and a
quarter of
bread besides. The bowls never wanted washing. The boys polished them
with
their spoons till they shone again; and when they had performed this
operation
(which never took very long, the spoons being nearly as large as the
bowls),
they would sit staring at the copper, with such eager eyes, as if they
could
have devoured the very bricks of which it was composed; employing
themselves,
meanwhile, in sucking their fingers most assiduously, with the view of
catching
up any stray splashes of gruel that might have been cast thereon. Boys
have
generally excellent appetites. Oliver Twist and his companions suffered
the tortures
of slow starvation for three months: at last they got so voracious and
wild
with hunger, that one boy, who was tall for his age, and hadn't been
used to
that sort of thing (for his father had kept a small cook-shop), hinted
darkly
to his companions, that unless he had another basin of gruel per
diem,
he was afraid he might some night happen to eat the boy who slept next
him, who
happened to be a weakly youth of tender age. He had a wild, hungry eye;
and
they implicitly believed him. A council was held; lots were cast who
should
walk up to the master after supper that evening, and ask for more; and
it fell
to Oliver Twist.
The evening
arrived; the boys took their places. The
master, in his cook's uniform, stationed himself at the copper; his
pauper
assistants ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was served out; and
a long
grace was said over the short commons. The gruel disappeared; the boys
whispered each other, and winked at Oliver; while his next neighbours
nudged
him. Child as he was, he was desperate with hunger, and reckless with
misery. He
rose from the table; and advancing to the master, basin and spoon in
hand,
said: somewhat alarmed at his own temerity:
"Please, sir,
I want some more."
The master was
a fat, healthy man; but he turned very
pale. He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for some
seconds,
and then clung for support to the copper. The assistants were paralysed
with
wonder; the boys with fear.
"What!" said
the master at length, in a
faint voice.
"Please, sir,"
replied Oliver, "I want
some more."
The master
aimed a blow at Oliver's head with the
ladle; pinioned him in his arms; and shrieked aloud for the beadle.
The board were
sitting in solemn conclave, when Mr.
Bumble rushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing the
gentleman
in the high chair, said,
"Mr. Limbkins,
I beg your pardon, sir! Oliver
Twist has asked for more!"
There was a
general start. Horror was depicted on
every countenance.
"For more!"
said Mr. Limbkins. "Compose
yourself, Bumble, and answer me distinctly. Do I understand that he
asked for
more, after he had eaten the supper allotted by the dietary?"
"He did, sir,"
replied Bumble.
"That boy will
be hung," said the gentleman
in the white waistcoat. "I know that boy will be hung."
Nobody
controverted the prophetic gentleman's opinion.
An animated discussion took place. Oliver was ordered into instant
confinement;
and a bill was next morning pasted on the outside of the gate, offering
a
reward of five pounds to anybody who would take Oliver Twist off the
hands of
the parish. In other words, five pounds and Oliver Twist were offered
to any
man or woman who wanted an apprentice to any trade, business, or
calling.
"I never was
more convinced of anything in my
life," said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, as he knocked at the
gate and read the bill next morning: "I never was more convinced of
anything in my life, than I am that that boy will come to be hung."
As I purpose
to show in the sequel whether the white-waistcoated
gentleman was right or not, I should perhaps mar the interest of this
narrative
(supposing it to possess any at all), if I ventured to hint just yet,
whether
the life of Oliver Twist had this violent termination or not.
Vocabulary:
gruel : gruau,
sorte de
porridge ; whisper : murmurer ; wink : cligner de
l’œil ;
nudge : pousser du coude ; pinion : ceinturer ;
beadle:
bedeau (représentant de la paroisse) ; parish :
paroisse ;
calling : profession, métier.
A déduire du
contexte :
copper, apron, ladle (n et v), porringer, stare (v), eager, starvation,
lots
were cast, reckless, confinement,paste (v), bill, reward.