English 版 (精华区)
发信人: gene (little mice), 信区: English
标 题: 雾都孤儿 Oliver's first job
发信站: 紫 丁 香 (Sun Nov 7 19:54:08 1999), 转信
Oliver's first job
Oliver stayed a prisoner alone in a dark room for a week.
He cried bitterly all day,
and when the long night came,
he spread his little hand over his eyes
to shut out the darkness, and tried to sleep.
He was given freezing water to wash with,
and was beaten daily by Mr Bumble in front
of all other boys in the hall,
as a warning to them.
One day Mr Bumble met the local undertaker,
Mr Sowerberrt, outside the workhouse.
'Do you know anybody who want to train a boy for work,
Mr Sowerberry?'
Mr Bumble pointed at the notice on the wall above him,
which offered five pounds to anybody who would take
Oliver Twist for work.
Mr Sowerberry rubbed his chin and thought for a while.
'I pay enough for the poor with my taxes,' he said,
'so why shouldn't I be make use of them in my work?
Yes, I'll take the boy myself.'
And so the board agreed to sent Oliver to work for
undertaker. The necessary paper was signed.
Oliver's small possessions were put into a brown paper
parcel, and he was led to Mr Sowerberry's house by Mr Bumble.
As they walk along,
tears began to run down Oliver's face.
'What is it this time?' asked Mr Bumble impatiently.
'Don't be so ungrateful.
This gentlemae is going to look after you.'
'It's just that I'm so lonely, sir!
' said the child. 'Everybody hates me.
Please don't be angry with me, sir!'
Even Mr Bumble felt a little pity.
He coughed, told Oliver to dry his eyes and be a good boy,
and walk on with him in silence.
The undertaker had just finished work for a day
when Mr Bumble entered his house.
'Here, I've brought the boy,' said the beadle.
Oliver bowed to the undertaker,
who raised his candle to get a better vies of the boy.
'Mrs Sowerberry,' he called, 'come and have a look.'
His wife, a short, thin woman with a disagreeable face,
came out to see. 'He's very small,' she said immediately.
'He is,' agreed Mr Bumble,
' But he'll be grow, Mrs Sowerberry.'
'Yes,' she said crossly, 'when he eats our food.
Go on, get downstairs.'
She put Oliver downstairs into a damp, dark kitchen,
and called to the girl working down there.
'Here, Charlotte,
give the boy some meat that the dog left-if he
thinks it's good enough for him.'
Oliver tore the meat with his teeth as if he was a wild animal.
Mrs Sowerberry watched him in silent horror,
already think about her future food bills,
then took him upstairs to the shop.
'You'll sleep here, among the coffins,' she said.
Oliver stared around the dark,
airless shop at the coffins, some finished,
some only half-made.
He trembled at the thought of ghosts.
His bed was a small hole in the floor,
and looked very like a grave.
The next morning he was woken up by someone knocking at the shop door.
'Open the door, will you?'
shouted a voice from the keyhole.
'Yes, sir.'
'I suppose you're the new boy,'
said the voice from the keyhole. 'How old are you?'
'Ten, sir.'
'Then I'll hit you when I get in,' said the voice.
Oliver was experienced enough to know
that the promise was probably the true.
He open the door with a shaking hand,
then look up and down the street.
All he could see was a large boy wearing
the uniform of one of the charity school,
where the children of the poor used to go.
'Did you want a coffin?' asked Oliver, innocently.
The charity-boy looked at him fiercely.
'You'll be need a coffin soon, Workhouse,
if you make joke like that! I'm Mister Noah
and you're working under me. Now,
hurry up and open the curtains!'
as he said this, he kicked Oliver and entered the shop.
He was a big, clumsy boy of about fourteen,
with a large head and very small eyes.
Added to these attractions,
was a red nose and dirty yellow trousers.
The boys went down to breakfast,
which the girl Charlotte had made for them.
She gave an extra piece of meat to Noah,
then told Oliver to hurry up as
it was his job to look after the shop.
'Did you hear that, Workhouse?' shouted Noah.
'He heard, Noah,' said Charlotte. 'Leave him alone.'
'Why?' asked Noah.
'All his relations have already left him alone.
His mother and father aren't going to interfere with him!'
Charlotte and Noah both started laughing loudly.
Oliver sat alone in the corner, eating old bits of bread.
Noah was a charity-boy, but not a workhouse orphan;
he at least know who his parents were.
But for a long time all the local shop-boys had insulted him
because he wore the uniform of a charity-boy.
Now fortune brought him a creature
in an even lower position in society than himself.
Noah intended to repay to Oliver every insult
he had ever received, and to make the new boy's life misery.
After a few weeks,
Mr Sowerberry decided that
he liked Oliver's appearance enough to train him
in the undertaking business.
Oliver's permanent expression of sadness was very suitable,
the undertaker thought,
for collection dead bodies from
houses and accompanying the coffins to funerals.
One day Mr Bumble came to tell them about a woman
who had died in an extremely poor part of the town,
and Mr Sowerberry and Oliver went to collect the body.
They went down dirty narrow street where
the houses on either sides were very tall and large,
but very old. Some of the houses were almost fall down,
and had to be supported by huge blocks of wood.
The area was so poor that even the dead rats
in the street looked as though they died of hunger.
They found the right house,
and climbed the dark stairs to a miserable little room.
Some children watched them from the shadow as they entered.
Something lay beneath a blanket on the floor in one corner.
A man and a woman stood near the body.
Oliver was afraid to look at them.
With their thin face and sharp teeth,
they looked like the rats he had seen outside.
As Sowerberry began to measure the body for a coffin,
the man knelt on the floor and cried out,
'She starved to death, I tell you! That's why she died!'
He fell to the floor,
and all the children behind him started to cry.
Sowerberry and Oliver, their work done,
left as fast as they could.
They returned next day with a coffin and four men
from the workhouse who were to carry it.
The man and the old woman followed the coffin to the church,
and waited silently by the grave for the priest to arrive.
When at last he came, he hurried through the prayers,
and as quickly as possible (it was only a job, after all)
the coffin was put into the ground.
At this point the husband,
who had not moved during his wife's burial- not even
during the long wait for the priest- suddenly
fainted down to the ground and
had to have cold water thrown over him.
'So how did you like it, Oliver?, asked Sowerberry later,
as they walked home.
'Not very much, sir,' Oliver answered truthfully.
'You'll get to use it, my boy.'
Oliver wondered how long that would take,
and remained silent all the way back to the shop,
thinking about everything that he had seen and heard.
--
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