English
Amongotherpublicbuildingsinacertaintown,whichformanyreasonsitwillbeprudenttorefrainfrommentioning,andtowhichIwillassignnofictitiousname,thereisoneancientlycommontomosttowns,greatorsmall:towit,aworkhouse;andinthisworkhousewasborn;onadayanddatewhichIneednottroublemyselftorepeat,inasmuchasitcanbeofnopossibleconsequencetothereader,inthisstageofthebusinessatallevents;theitemofmortalitywhosenameisprefixedtotheheadofthischapter.
Foralongtimeafteritwasusheredintothisworldofsorrowandtrouble,bytheparishsurgeon,itremainedamatterofconsiderabledoubtwhetherthechildwouldsurvivetobearanynameatall;inwhichcaseitissomewhatmorethanprobablethatthesememoirswouldneverhaveappeared;or,iftheyhad,thatbeingcomprisedwithinacoupleofpages,theywouldhavepossessedtheinestimablemeritofbeingthemostconciseandfaithfulspecimenofbiography,extantintheliteratureofanyageorcountry.
AlthoughIamnotdisposedtomaintainthatthebeingborninaworkhouse,isinitselfthemostfortunateandenviablecircumstancethatcanpossiblybefallahumanbeing,Idomeantosaythatinthisparticularinstance,itwasthebestthingforOliverTwistthatcouldbypossibilityhaveoccurred.
Thefactis,thattherewasconsiderabledifficultyininducingOlivertotakeuponhimselftheofficeofrespiration,—atroublesomepractice,butonewhichcustomhasrenderednecessarytooureasyexistence;andforsometimehelaygaspingonalittleflockmattress,ratherunequallypoisedbetweenthisworldandthenext:thebalancebeingdecidedlyinfavourofthelatter.
Now,if,duringthisbriefperiod,Oliverhadbeensurroundedbycarefulgrandmothers,anxiousaunts,experiencednurses,anddoctorsofprofoundwisdom,hewouldmostinevitablyandindubitablyhavebeenkilledinnotime.
Therebeingnobodyby,however,butapauperoldwoman,whowasrenderedrathermistybyanunwontedallowanceofbeer;andaparishsurgeonwhodidsuchmattersbycontract;OliverandNaturefoughtoutthepointbetweenthem.
Theresultwas,that,afterafewstruggles,Oliverbreathed,sneezed,andproceededtoadvertisetotheinmatesoftheworkhousethefactofanewburdenhavingbeenimposedupontheparish,bysettingupasloudacryascouldreasonablyhavebeenexpectedfromamaleinfantwhohadnotbeenpossessedofthatveryusefulappendage,avoice,foramuchlongerspaceoftimethanthreeminutesandaquarter.
AsOlivergavethisfirstproofofthefreeandproperactionofhislungs,thepatchworkcoverletwhichwascarelesslyflungovertheironbedstead,rustled;thepalefaceofayoungwomanwasraisedfeeblyfromthepillow;andafaintvoiceimperfectlyarticulatedthewords,‘Letmeseethechild,anddie.’
Thesurgeonhadbeensittingwithhisfaceturnedtowardsthefire:givingthepalmsofhishandsawarmandarubalternately.
Astheyoungwomanspoke,herose,andadvancingtothebed’shead,said,withmorekindnessthanmighthavebeenexpectedofhim:
‘Oh,youmustnottalkaboutdyingyet.’
‘Lorblessherdearheart,no!’interposedthenurse,hastilydepositinginherpocketagreenglassbottle,thecontentsofwhichshehadbeentastinginacornerwithevidentsatisfaction.
‘Lorblessherdearheart,whenshehaslivedaslongasIhave,sir,andhadthirteenchildrenofherown,andallon‘emdeadexcepttwo,andtheminthewurkuswithme,she’llknowbetterthantotakeoninthatway,blessherdearheart!
Thinkwhatitistobeamother,there’sadearyounglambdo.’
Apparentlythisconsolatoryperspectiveofamother’sprospectsfailedinproducingitsdueeffect.Thepatientshookherhead,andstretchedoutherhandtowardsthechild.
Thesurgeondepositeditinherarms.Sheimprintedhercoldwhitelipspassionatelyonitsforehead;passedherhandsoverherface;gazedwildlyround;shuddered;fellback—anddied.
Theychafedherbreast,hands,andtemples;butthebloodhadstoppedforever.Theytalkedofhopeandcomfort.Theyhadbeenstrangerstoolong.
‘It’sallover,Mrs.Thingummy!’saidthesurgeonatlast.
‘Ah,poordear,soitis!’saidthenurse,pickingupthecorkofthegreenbottle,whichhadfallenoutonthepillow,asshestoopedtotakeupthechild.‘Poordear!’
‘Youneedn’tmindsendinguptome,ifthechildcries,nurse,’saidthesurgeon,puttingonhisgloveswithgreatdeliberation.
‘It’sverylikelyitwillbetroublesome.Giveitalittlegruelifitis.’
Heputonhishat,and,pausingbythebed-sideonhiswaytothedoor,added,‘Shewasagood-lookinggirl,too;wheredidshecomefrom?’
‘Shewasbroughtherelastnight,’repliedtheoldwoman,‘bytheoverseer’sorder.Shewasfoundlyinginthestreet.
Shehadwalkedsomedistance,forhershoeswereworntopieces;butwhereshecamefrom,orwhereshewasgoingto,nobodyknows.’
Thesurgeonleanedoverthebody,andraisedthelefthand.‘Theoldstory,’hesaid,shakinghishead:‘nowedding-ring,Isee.Ah!Good-night!’
Themedicalgentlemanwalkedawaytodinner;andthenurse,havingoncemoreappliedherselftothegreenbottle,satdownonalowchairbeforethefire,andproceededtodresstheinfant.
Whatanexcellentexampleofthepowerofdress,youngOliverTwistwas!
Wrappedintheblanketwhichhadhithertoformedhisonlycovering,hemighthavebeenthechildofanoblemanorabeggar;itwouldhavebeenhardforthehaughtieststrangertohaveassignedhimhisproperstationinsociety.
Butnowthathewasenvelopedintheoldcalicorobeswhichhadgrownyellowinthesameservice,hewasbadgedandticketed,andfellintohisplaceatonce—aparishchild—theorphanofaworkhouse—thehumble,half-starveddrudge—tobecuffedandbuffetedthroughtheworld—despisedbyall,andpitiedbynone.
Olivercriedlustily.Ifhecouldhaveknownthathewasanorphan,lefttothetendermerciesofchurch-wardensandoverseers,perhapshewouldhavecriedthelouder.
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