【资料下载】雾都孤儿 （英语原版）

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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 mealtimes.  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.

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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.

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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:

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'Please, sir, I want some more.'

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The master was a fat, healthy man; but he turned very pale. He

gazed in stupified 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.

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'What!' said the master at length, in a faint voice.



'Please, sir,' replied Oliver, 'I want some more.'

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The master aimed a blow at Oliver's head with the ladle; pinioned

him in his arm; and shrieked aloud for the beadle.

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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,

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'Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir!  Oliver Twist has asked

for more!'



There was a general start.  Horror was depicted on every

countenance.

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'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.