Chapter 11 chapter Ten

(Recounting Oliver's growing knowledge of his new companion's character, which he gained but at a high price. This chapter is not long, but it is very important in this biography.) For some time now Oliver had been staying in the old Jew's house, picking marks from handkerchiefs (innumerable handkerchiefs were brought back every day), and now and then taking part in the game of which I have been speaking, with two boys. And the old Jewish routine every morning.In the end, he began to feel bored, longed to go outside for some fresh air, and begged the old gentleman many times with all sincerity, asking him to let himself and his two companions go out to work together.

Oliver's acquaintance with the old gentleman's unambiguous virtues made him all the more eager to do some work.Whenever the Dodger or Charlie Bates came back empty-handed at night, Fagin would speak passionately about the deplorable habits of indolence and indolence, and send them to bed without supper, in order to instill industry in them. The truth of living.It is true that, on one occasion, Fagin even got so rowdy that he knocked them both down the stairs, but it was only his good-natured persuasion carried too far. One morning the long-awaited Oliver was finally granted permission, and for two or three days there were no more handkerchiefs to be processed, and the food became rather poor.Perhaps it was for these two reasons that the old gentleman agreed to his request. Whatever it is, the old gentleman told Oliver to go, and put him in the place of Charlie Bates and the smart ghost. under joint custody.

The three children set off.As usual, the Dodger had his sleeves rolled up and his hat on one side.Master Bates put his hands in his pockets, and he was quite leisurely along the way.Oliver walked among them, wondering where they were going, and what trade he had to learn first. Their gait was so lazy, so ugly, and so mere loitering, that Oliver soon realized that the two companions were not doing work at all, but to deceive the old gentleman.Besides, the Dodger had a bad habit of snatching the hats off the heads of other boys and keeping them at a distance; He even smuggled some apples and onions into his pockets from a stall, and his pockets were surprisingly large, as if he had interlayers in all directions under his clothes.These things seemed too embarrassing, and Oliver was about to announce as tactfully as possible that he would find a way to go back. At this moment, a mysterious change occurred in the behavior of the clever ghost, which suddenly led his thoughts to another aspect.

At this moment, they were coming out of a lane near Clerkenwell Square. It is strange that the name has been changed, and people still call this square "The Green Field". On the lips, while lightly pulling the two companions back a few steps. "What is it?" asked Oliver. "Hush!" replied the Dodger, "see that old fellow by the bookstall?" "That old gentleman across the street?" said Oliver. "Yes, I see." "He's just right," said the Sharpshooter. "The posture is pretty good." Master Charlie Bates looked carefully.

Oliver looked from one to the other in amazement, but being unable to ask any more questions, the two boys slipped furtively across the road towards the old gentleman whom Oliver had noticed. Lean behind.Oliver followed them for a few steps, and because he didn't know whether to go forward or back, he stopped. He didn't dare to make a sound, but just stared there in a daze. The old gentleman had a very respectable face, powdered hair, gold-rimmed spectacles, a dark green coat with a black velvet collar, white trousers, and a delicate bamboo cane tucked under his arm.He took a book from the stand and read it standing there, as if sitting in an easy chair in his study.Indeed, the old gentleman may well have felt the same way himself.Judging by his ecstasy, he obviously didn't see the book stalls, the street, or the group of children. In a word, he forgot everything, and his mind was on reading word by word. In the book I read, I read the last line of a page, and started from the top line as usual, and read it earnestly and with great interest.

Standing a few paces away, Oliver saw, with wide-open eyes, the Dodger put his hand into the old gentleman's pocket, and drew out a handkerchief.What terror and panic he felt when he saw the Dodger hand things to Charlie Bates again, and when they finally turned the corner and ran away in a flash. All at once, the gold watch, the jewels, the old Jew, the whole mystery flooded the child's mind.He hesitated for a moment, blood rushing through his veins due to fear, he felt as if he was in a raging fire, and then, in panic and fear, he didn't know what was going on, he lifted his toes and died ran away.

All this happened in just one minute.The instant Oliver began to run, the old gentleman put his hand into his day-pocket, missed his handkerchief, and turned his head abruptly.Seeing a child running forward at such a fast speed, he naturally decided that it was a thief.He exerted all his strength, shouted "Catch the thief!", and chased after him with the book. However, the old gentleman was not alone in yelling to catch the thief.The Dodger and Master Bates, not wanting to attract public attention by running all over the street, took refuge in the first doorway as soon as they turned the corner.Presently, hearing the shout, and seeing Oliver running by, they guessed exactly what happened next, and they both sprang out with the utmost agility, crying "Thief!" The townspeople also participated in the hunt.

Though Oliver had been educated by a school of philosophers, he was theoretically ignorant of the beautiful maxim that self-preservation is the first law of the universe, and if he had known this, he might have understood something of this kind. Things are ready.Completely bewildered, and more alarmed, he rushed forward like the wind, followed by the old gentleman, the Dodger and Baze, roaring loudly. "Catch the thief! Catch the thief!" There was a magic in the cry.At the shout the tradesman left the counter, the coachman his wagon, the butcher his pallet, the baker his basket, the milkman his pail, the errand his deliveries. , schoolchildren neglected to play billiards, pavers dropped their pickaxes, children threw crickets aside.Everyone chased up together, chaotic, you pushed and squeezed: writhing, shouting, shouting, knocking down pedestrians when turning, and making a fuss.In the streets, alleys, squares and courtyards, the shouts echoed everywhere.

"Catch the thief! Catch the thief!" Hundreds of people responded in unison.Every time you turn a corner, the crowd will increase by one round.They ran, splashing mud and thumping the sidewalk.The puppet show was at its critical moment, but all the audience left Punch, the main character, and opened the windows and ran out the door. People rushed forward and joined the crowd, shouting "Catch the thief! Catch the thief!" New vitality was injected into the sound. "Catch the thief! Catch the thief!" Human beings have always had a very deep-rooted desire to conquer.A poor child who was about to suffocate, in order to get ahead of the pursuers, he was so tired that he was panting, his face was full of fear, his eyes were filled with pain, big drops of sweat rolled down his cheeks, every nerve was tense tight.People caught up and approached him step by step. Seeing that he was gradually losing strength, they yelled more vigorously, and there were thunderous cheers everywhere. "Catch a thief!" Why, if it's for mercy, for God's sake, catch him.

Finally caught.What a hit.He collapsed on the pavement.People couldn't help but surrounded him, and those who had just arrived rushed to squeeze in, wanting to take a look. "Aside, please." "Give him some air." "Nonsense. He's not worthy." "Where's that gentleman?" "Here, coming this way." "Make room for this gentleman. " "Sir, is that the kid?" "Yes." Oliver fell to the ground, covered with mud and dust, with blood dripping from his mouth, and staring in horror at the countless faces around him, when the old gentleman called the people who were running ahead enthusiastically. He dragged and pushed to get into the circle.

"Yes," said the old gentleman, "I am afraid it is the boy." "I'm afraid!" murmured the crowd. "It's wonderful." "Poor boy," said the old gentleman, "he's wounded." "I knocked him down, sir," said a thick-handed fellow, "I punched him in the mouth and hurt my hand. I caught him, sir." The fellow grinned and touched his hat, hoping to get something for his hard work.The old gentleman glanced at him in disgust, then looked around anxiously, as if he wanted to leave.He might well have done so, and another chase had ensued, had not an officer at this moment pushed his way into the crowd (always the last to arrive in such cases) and seized Oliver by the collar. . "Hey, get up," said the officer gruffly. "It's not me, sir. Really, really, it's the other two boys." said Oliver, clasping his hands tightly together, and looking back, "they're somewhere around here." "No, no, they're not here," said the police officer, who was about to say something ironic, but it hit the mark.The Dodger and Charlie Bates had already escaped in the first yard they encountered. "Hey, get up." "Don't hurt him," said the old gentleman sympathetically. "Oh, no, I won't," agreed the inspector, tearing Oliver's coat almost off his back as proof. "Hmph, I know what you're doing, don't try to lie to me. You can't get up, you little bastard?" Oliver struggled to get up, unable to stand still, and was immediately dragged away along the street by the collar of his coat.The old gentleman walked beside the inspector.Those who were capable of doing so went a few steps ahead of the company, and looked back now and then at Oliver.The children gave out cheers of victory and walked forward.