CHAPTER VIII. OLIVER WALKS TO LONDON. HE ENCOUNTERS ON THE ROAD A STRANGE SORT OF YOUNG GENTLEMAN

eendofthepassageandaman’sfacepeepedout,fromwhereabalustradeoftheoldkitchenstaircasehadbeenbrokenaway. “There’stwoonyou,”saidtheman,thrustingthecandlefartherout,andshieldinghiseyeswithhishand.“Who’sthet’otherone?” “Anewpal,”repliedJackDawkins,pullingOliverforward. “Wheredidhecomefrom?” “Greenland.IsFaginupstairs?” “Yes,he’sasortin’thewipes.Upwithyou!”Thecandlewasdrawnback,andthefacedisappeared. Oliver,gropinghiswaywithonehand,andhavingtheotherfirmlygraspedbyhiscompanion,ascendedwithmuchdifficultythedarkandbrokenstairs:whichhisconductormountedwithaneaseandexpeditionthatshowedhewaswellacquaintedwiththem. Hethrewopenthedoorofaback-room,anddrewOliverinafterhim. Thewallsandceilingoftheroomwereperfectlyblackwithageanddirt.Therewasadealtablebeforethefire:uponwhichwereacandle,stuckinaginger-beerbottle,twoorthreepewterpots,aloafandbutter,andaplate.Inafrying-pan,whichwasonthefire,andwhichwassecuredtothemantelshelfbyastring,somesausageswerecookingandstandingoverthem,withatoasting-forkinhishand,wasaveryoldshrivelledJew,whosevillainous-lookingandrepulsivefacewasobscuredbyaquantityofmattedredhair.Hewasdressedinagreasyflannelgown,withhisthroatbareandseemedtobedividinghisattentionbetweenthefrying-panandtheclothes-horse,overwhichagreatnumberofsilkhandkerchiefswerehanging.Severalroughbedsmadeofoldsacks,werehuddledsidebysideonthefloor.Seatedroundthetablewerefourorfiveboys,noneolderthantheDodger,smokinglongclaypipes,anddrinkingspiritswiththeairofmiddle-agedmen.TheseallcrowdedabouttheirassociateashewhisperedafewwordstotheJewandthenturnedroundandgrinnedatOliver.SodidtheJewhimself,toasting-forkinhand. “Thisishim,Fagin,”saidJackDawkins“myfriendOliverTwist.” TheJewgrinnedand,makingalowobeisancetoOliver,tookhimbythehand,andhopedheshouldhavethehonourofhisintimateacquaintance.Uponthis,theyounggentlemanwiththepipescameroundhim,andshookbothhishandsveryhard—especiallytheoneinwhichheheldhislittlebundle.Oneyounggentlemanwasveryanxioustohanguphiscapforhimandanotherwassoobligingastoputhishandsinhispockets,inorderthat,ashewasverytired,hemightnothavethetroubleofemptyingthem,himself,whenhewenttobed.Thesecivilitieswouldprobablybeextendedmuchfarther,butforaliberalexerciseoftheJew’stoasting-forkontheheadsandshouldersoftheaffectionateyouthswhoofferedthem. “Weareverygladtoseeyou,Oliver,very,”saidtheJew.“Dodger,takeoffthesausagesanddrawatubnearthefireforOliver.Ah,you’rea-staringatthepocket-handkerchiefs!eh,mydear.Thereareagoodmanyof’em,ain’tthere?We’vejustlooked’emout,readyforthewashthat’sall,Oliverthat’sall.Ha!ha!ha!” Thelatterpartofthisspeech,washailedbyaboisterousshoutfromallthehopefulpupilsofthemerryoldgentleman.Inthemidstofwhichtheywenttosupper. Oliveratehisshare,andtheJewthenmixedhimaglassofhotgin-and-water:tellinghimhemustdrinkitoffdirectly,becauseanothergentlemanwantedthetumbler.Oliverdidashewasdesired.Immediatelyafterwardshefelthimselfgentlyliftedontooneofthesacksandthenhesunkintoadeepsleep.