In great families, when an advantageous place cannot be obtained, either in possession, reversion, remainder, or expectancy, for the young man who is growing up, it is a very general custom to send him to sea. The board, in imitation of so wise and salutary an example, took counsel together on the expediency of shipping off Oliver Twist, in some small trading vessel bound to a good unhealthy port. This suggested itself as the very best thing that could possibly be done with him: the probability being, that the skipper would flog him to death, in a playful mood, some day after dinner, or would knock his brains out with an iron bar; both pastimes being, as is pretty generally known, very favourite and common recreations among gentleman of that class. The more the case presented itself to the board, in this point of view, the more manifold the advantages of the step appeared; so, they came to the conclusion that the only way of providing for Oliver effectually, was to send him to sea without delay.
Mr. Bumble had been despatched to make various preliminary inquiries, with the view of finding out some captain or other who wanted a cabin-boy without any friends; and was returning to the workhouse to communicate the result of his mission; when he encountered at the gate, no less a person than Mr. Sowerberry, the parochialundertaker.
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“邦布尔先生,我已经给昨儿晚上去世的两位女士量好了尺寸。”殡葬承办人说道。
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Mr. Sowerberry was a tall gaunt, large-jointed man, attired in a suit of threadbare black, with darned cotton stockings of the same colour, and shoes to answer. His features were not naturally intended to wear a smiling aspect, but he was in general rather given to professional jocosity. His step was elastic, and his face betokened inward pleasantry, as he advanced to Mr. Bumble, and shook him cordially by the hand.
’You’ll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry,’ said the beadle, as he thrust his thumb and forefinger into the proffered snuff-box of the undertaker: which was an ingenious little model of a patent coffin. ’I say you’ll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry,’ repeated Mr. Bumble, tapping the undertaker on the shoulder, in a friendly manner, with his cane.
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“棺材不也是这样吗。”干事答话时面带微笑,这一丝微笑他掌握得恰到好处,以不失教区大员的身份为原则。
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’Think so?’ said the undertaker in a tone which half admitted and half disputed the probability of the event. ’The prices allowed by the board are very small, Mr. Bumble.’
’So are the coffins,’ replied the beadle: with precisely as near an approach to a laugh as a great official ought to indulge in.
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“好啦,好啦,”邦布尔先生说,“哪一行都有哪一行的难处。当然赚得公平还是许可的。”
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Mr. Sowerberry was much tickled at this: as of course he ought to be; and laughed a long time without cessation. ’Well, well, Mr. Bumble,’ he said at length, ’there’s no denying that, since the new system of feeding has come in, the coffins are something narrower and more shallow than they used to be; but we must have some profit, Mr. Bumble. Well-seasoned timber is an expensive article, sir; and all the iron handles come, by canal, from Birmingham.’
’Well, well,’ said Mr. Bumble, ’every trade has its drawbacks. A fair profit is, of course, allowable.’
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“一点不错。”邦布尔先生说,
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’Of course, of course,’ replied the undertaker; ’and if I don’t get a profit upon this or that particular article, why, I make it up in the long-run, you see--he! he! he!’
’Though I must say,’ continued the undertaker, resuming the current of observations which the beadle had interrupted: ’though I must say, Mr. Bumble, that I have to contend against one very great disadvantage: which is, that all the stout people go off the quickest. The people who have been better off, and have paid rates for many years, are the first to sink when they come into the house; and let me tell you, Mr. Bumble, that three or four inches over one’s calculation makes a great hole in one’s profits: especially when one has a family to provide for, sir.’
As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the becoming indignation of an ill-used man; and as Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended to convey a reflection on the honour of the parish; the latter gentleman thought it advisable to change the subject. Oliver Twist being uppermost in his mind, he made him his theme.
’By the bye,’ said Mr. Bumble, ’you don’t know anybody who wants a boy, do you? A porochial ’prentis, who is at present a dead-weight; a millstone, as I may say, round the porochial throat? Liberal terms, Mr. Sowerberry, liberal terms?’ As Mr. Bumble spoke, he raised his cane to the bill above him, and gave three distinct raps upon the words ’five pounds’: which were printed thereon in Roman capitals of gigantic size.
’Gadso!’ said the undertaker: taking Mr. Bumble by the gilt-edged lappel of his official coat; ’that’s just the very thing I wanted to speak to you about. You know--dear me, what a very elegant button this is, Mr. Bumble! I never noticed it before.’
’Yes, I think it rather pretty,’ said the beadle, glancing proudly downwards at the large brass buttons which embellished his coat. ’The die is the same as the porochial seal--the Good Samaritan healing the sick and bruised man. The board presented it to me on Newyear’s morning, Mr. Sowerberry. I put it on, I remember, for the first time, to attend the inquest on that reduced tradesman, who died in a doorway at midnight.’
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“我想起来了,”殡葬承办人说,“陪审团报告说,是死于感冒以及缺乏一般生活用品,对不?”
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’I recollect,’ said the undertaker. ’The jury brought it in, "Died from exposure to the cold, and want of the common necessaries of life," didn’t they?’
’Juries,’ said Mr. Bumble, grasping his cane tightly, as was his wont when working into a passion: ’juries is ineddicated, vulgar, grovelling wretches.’
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“就是,就是。”殡葬承办人说。
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’So they are,’ said the undertaker.
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“不管是哲学还是政治经济学,他们也就懂那么一点,”邦布尔轻蔑地打了一个响指,说道,“就那么点。”
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’They haven’t no more philosophy nor political economy about ’em than that,’ said the beadle, snapping his fingers contemptuously.
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“确实如此。”殡葬承办人表示同意。
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’No more they have,’ acquiesced the undertaker.
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“我才看不起他们呢。”教区干事一张脸涨得通红。
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’I despise ’em,’ said the beadle, growing very red in the face.
’And I only wish we’d a jury of the independent sort, in the house for a week or two,’ said the beadle; ’the rules and regulations of the board would soon bring their spirit down for ’em.’
Mr Bumble lifted off his cocked hat; took a handkerchief from the inside of the crown; wiped from his forehead the perspiration which his rage had engendered; fixed the cocked hat on again; and, turning to the undertaker, said in a calmer voice:
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“喂,这孩子如何?”
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’Well; what about the boy?’
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“噢。”殡葬承办人答道,“哎,邦布尔先生,你也知道,我替穷人缴了好大一笔税呢。”
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’Oh!’ replied the undertaker; ’why, you know, Mr. Bumble, I pay a good deal towards the poor’s rates.’
’Well,’ replied the undertaker, ’I was thinking that if I pay so much towards ’em, I’ve a right to get as much out of ’em as I can, Mr. Bumble; and so--I think I’ll take the boy myself.’
Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm, and led him into the building. Mr. Sowerberry was closeted with the board for five minutes; and it was arranged that Oliver should go to him that evening ’upon liking’--a phrase which means, in the case of a parish apprentice, that if the master find, upon a short trial, that he can get enough work out of a boy without putting too much food into him, he shall have him for a term of years, to do what he likes with.
When little Oliver was taken before ’the gentlemen’ that evening; and informed that he was to go, that night, as general house-lad to a coffin-maker’s; and that if he complained of his situation, or ever came back to the parish again, he would be sent to sea, there to be drowned, or knocked on the head, as the case might be, he evinced so little emotion, that they by common consent pronounced him a hardened young rascal, and ordered Mr. Bumble to remove him forthwith.
Now, although it was very natural that the board, of all people in the world, should feel in a great state of virtuous astonishment and horror at the smallest tokens of want of feeling on the part of anybody, they were rather out, in this particular instance. The simple fact was, that Oliver, instead of possessing too little feeling, possessed rather too much; and was in a fair way of being reduced, for life, to a state of brutal stupidity and sullenness by the ill usage he had received. He heard the news of his destination, in perfect silence; and, having had his luggage put into his hand--which was not very difficult to carry, inasmuch as it was all comprised within the limits of a brown paper parcel, about half a foot square by three inches deep--he pulled his cap over his eyes; and once more attaching himself to Mr. Bumble’s coat cuff, was led away by that dignitary to a new scene of suffering.
For some time, Mr. Bumble drew Oliver along, without notice or remark; for the beadle carried his head very erect, as a beadle always should: and, it being a windy day, little Oliver was completely enshrouded by the skirts of Mr. Bumble’s coat as they blew open, and disclosed to great advantage his flapped waistcoat and drabplush knee-breeches. As they drew near to their destination, however, Mr. Bumble thought it expedient to look down, and see that the boy was in good order for inspection by his new master: which he accordingly did, with a fit and becoming air of graciouspatronage.
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“奥立弗。”邦布尔说。
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’Oliver!’ said Mr. Bumble.
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“是,先生。”奥立弗哆哆嗦嗦地低声答道。
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’Yes, sir,’ replied Oliver, in a low, tremulous voice.
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“先生,把帽子戴高一些,别挡住眼睛,头抬起来。”
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’Pull that cap off your eyes, and hold up your head, sir.’
Although Oliver did as he was desired, at once; and passed the back of his unoccupied hand briskly across his eyes, he left a tear in them when he looked up at his conductor. As Mr. Bumble gazed sternly upon him, it rolled down his cheek. It was followed by another, and another. The child made a strong effort, but it was an unsuccessful one. Withdrawing his other hand from Mr. Bumble’s he covered his face with both; and wept until the tears sprung out from between his chin and bony fingers.
’Well!’ exclaimed Mr. Bumble, stopping short, and darting at his little charge a look of intense malignity. ’Well! Of _all_ the ungratefullest, and worst-disposed boys as ever I see, Oliver, you are the--’
’No, no, sir,’ sobbed Oliver, clinging to the hand which held the well-known cane; ’no, no, sir; I will be good indeed; indeed, indeed I will, sir! I am a very little boy, sir; and it is so--so--’
’So lonely, sir! So very lonely!’ cried the child. ’Everybody hates me. Oh! sir, don’t, don’t pray be cross to me!’ The child beat his hand upon his heart; and looked in his companion’s face, with tears of real agony.
Mr. Bumble regarded Oliver’s piteous and helpless look, with some astonishment, for a few seconds; hemmed three or four times in a husky manner; and after muttering something about ’that troublesome cough,’ bade Oliver dry his eyes and be a good boy. Then once more taking his hand, he walked on with him in silence.
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殡仪馆老板刚关上铺子的门面,正在一盏昏暗得与本店业务十分相称的烛光下做账,邦布尔先生走了进来。
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The undertaker, who had just putup the shutters of his shop, was making some entries in his day-book by the light of a most appropriate dismal candle, when Mr. Bumble entered.
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“啊哈。”殡葬承办人从账本上抬起头来,一个字刚写了一半。“是你吗,邦布尔?”
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’Aha!’ said the undertaker; looking up from the book, and pausing in the middle of a word; ’is that you, Bumble?’
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“不是别人,苏尔伯雷先生,”干事答道,“喏。我把孩子带来了。”奥立弗鞠了一躬。
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’No one else, Mr. Sowerberry,’ replied the beadle. ’Here! I’ve brought the boy.’ Oliver made a bow.
’Oh! that’s the boy, is it?’ said the undertaker: raising the candle above his head, to get a better view of Oliver. ’Mrs. Sowerberry, will you have the goodness to come here a moment, my dear?’
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苏尔伯雷太太从店堂后边一间小屋里出来了,这女人身材瘦小,干瘪得够可以的了,一脸狠毒泼辣的神色。
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Mrs. Sowerberry emerged from a little room behind the shop, and presented the form of a short, then, squeezed-up woman, with a vixenishcountenance.
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“我亲爱的,”苏尔伯雷先生谦恭地说,“这就是我跟你说过的那个济贫院的孩子。”奥立弗又鞠了一躬。
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’My dear,’ said Mr. Sowerberry, deferentially, ’this is the boy from the workhouse that I told you of.’ Oliver bowed again.
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“天啦,”殡仪馆老板娘说道,“他可真小啊。”
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’Dear me!’ said the undertaker’s wife, ’he’s very small.’
’Why, he _is_ rather small,’ replied Mr. Bumble: looking at Oliver as if it were his fault that he was no bigger; ’he is small. There’s no denying it. But he’ll grow, Mrs. Sowerberry--he’ll grow.’
’Ah! I dare say he will,’ replied the lady pettishly, ’on our victuals and our drink. I see no saving in parish children, not I; for they always cost more to keep, than they’re worth. However, men always think they know best. There! Get downstairs, little bag o’ bones.’ With this, the undertaker’s wife opened a side door, and pushed Oliver down a steep flight of stairs into a stone cell, damp and dark: forming the ante-room to the coal-cellar, and denominated ’kitchen’; wherein sat a slatternly girl, in shoes down at heel, and blue worsted stockings very much out of repair.
’Here, Charlotte,’ said Mr. Sowerberry, who had followed Oliver down, ’give this boy some of the cold bits that were put by for Trip. He hasn’t come home since the morning, so he may go without ’em. I dare say the boy isn’t too dainty to eat ’em--are you, boy?’
Oliver, whose eyes had glistened at the mention of meat, and who was trembling with eagerness to devour it, replied in the negative; and a plateful of coarse broken victuals was set before him.
I wish some well-fed philosopher, whose meat and drink turn to gall within him; whose blood is ice, whose heart is iron; could have seen Oliver Twist clutching at the dainty viands that the dog had neglected. I wish he could have witnessed the horrible avidity with which Oliver tore the bits asunder with all the ferocity of famine. There is only one thing I should like better; and that would be to see the Philosopher making the same sort of meal himself, with the same relish.
’Well,’ said the undertaker’s wife, when Oliver had finished his supper: which she had regarded in silent horror, and with fearful auguries of his future appetite: ’have you done?’
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奥立弗看看前后左右,可以吃的东西没有了,便作了肯定的回答。
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There being nothing eatable within his reach, Oliver replied in the affirmative.
’Then come with me,’ said Mrs. Sowerberry: taking up a dim and dirty lamp, and leading the way upstairs; ’your bed’s under the counter. You don’t mind sleeping among the coffins, I suppose? But it doesn’t much matter whether you do or don’t, for you can’t sleep anywhere else. Come; don’t keep me here all night!’
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奥立弗不再犹豫,温顺地跟着新女主人走去。
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Oliver lingered no longer, but meekly followed his new mistress.