Chapter XVIII

by Charles Dickens

　　How Oliver Passed His Time in the Improving Society of His Reputable FriendsAbout noon next day, when the Dodger and Master Bates had goneout to pursue their customary avocations, Mr. Fagin took theopportunity of reading Oliver a long lecture on the crying sin ofingratitude; of which he clearly demonstrated he had been guilty,to no ordinary extent, in wilfully absenting himself from thesociety of his anxious friends; and, still more, in endeavouringto escape from them after so much trouble and expense had beenincurred in his recovery. Mr. Fagin laid great stress on the factof his having taken Oliver in, and cherished him, when, withouthis timely aid, he might have perished with hunger; and herelated the dismal and affecting history of a young lad whom, inhis philanthropy, he had succoured under parallel circumstances,but who, proving unworthy of his confidence and evincing a desireto communicate with the police, had unfortunately come to behanged at the Old Bailey one morning. Mr. Fagin did not seek toconceal his share in the catastrophe, but lamented with tears inhis eyes that the wrong-headed and treacherous behaviour of theyoung person in question, had rendered it necessary that heshould become the victim of certain evidence for the crown:which, if it were not precisely true, was indispensably necessaryfor the safety of him (Mr. Fagin) and a few select friends. Mr.Fagin concluded by drawing a rather disagreeable picture of thediscomforts of hanging; and, with great friendliness andpoliteness of manner, expressed his anxious hopes that he mightnever be obliged to submit Oliver Twist to that unpleasantoperation.Little Oliver's blood ran cold, as he listened to the Jew'swords, and imperfectly comprehended the dark threats conveyed inthem. That it was possible even for justice itself to confoundthe innocent with the guilty when they were in accidentalcompanionship, he knew already; and that deeply-laid plans forthe destruction of inconveniently knowing or over-communicativepersons, had been really devised and carried out by the Jew onmore occasions than one, he thought by no means unlikely, when herecollected the general nature of the altercations between thatgentleman and Mr. Sikes: which seemed to bear reference to someforegone conspiracy of the kind. As he glanced timidly up, andmet the Jew's searching look, he felt that his pale face andtrembling limbs were neither unnoticed nor unrelished by thatwary old gentleman.The Jew, smiling hideously, patted Oliver on the head, and said,that if he kept himself quiet, and applied himself to business,he saw they would be very good friends yet. Then, taking hishat, and covering himself with an old patched great-coat, he wentout, and locked the room-door behind him.And so Oliver remained all that day, and for the greater part ofmany subsequent days, seeing nobody, between early morning andmidnight, and left during the long hours to commune with his ownthoughts. Which, never failing to revert to his kind friends,and the opinion they must long ago have formed of him, were sadindeed.After the lapse of a week or so, the Jew left the room-doorunlocked; and he was at liberty to wander about the house.It was a very dirty place. The rooms upstairs had great highwooden chimney-pieces and large doors, with panelled walls andcornices to the ceiling; which, although they were black withneglect and dust, were ornamented in various ways. From all ofthese tokens Oliver concluded that a long time ago, before theold Jew was born, it had belonged to better people, and hadperhaps been quite gay and handsome: dismal and dreary as itlooked now.Spiders had built their webs in the angles of the walls andceilings; and sometimes, when Oliver walked softly into a room,the mice would scamper across the floor, and run back terrifiedto their holes. With these exceptions, there was neither sightnor sound of any living thing; and often, when it grew dark, andhe was tired of wandering from room to room, he would crouch inthe corner of the passage by the street-door, to be as nearliving people as he could; and would remain there, listening andcounting the hours, until the Jew or the boys returned.In all the rooms, the mouldering shutters were fast closed: thebars which held them were screwed tight into the wood; the onlylight which was admitted, stealing its way through round holes atthe top: which made the rooms more gloomy, and filled them withstrange shadows. There was a back-garret window with rusty barsoutside, which had no shutter; and out of this, Oliver oftengazed with a melancholy face for hours together; but nothing wasto be descried from it but a confused and crowded mass ofhousetops, blackened chimneys, and gable-ends. Sometimes,indeed, a grizzly head might be seen, peering over theparapet-wall of a distant house; but it was quickly withdrawnagain; and as the window of Oliver's observatory was nailed down,and dimmed with the rain and smoke of years, it was as much as hecould do to make out the forms of the different objects beyond,without making any attempt to be seen or heard,--which he had asmuch chance of being, as if he had lived inside the ball of St.Paul's Cathedral.One afternoon, the Dodger and Master Bates being engaged out thatevening, the first-named young gentleman took it into his head toevince some anxiety regarding the decoration of his person (to dohim justice, this was by no means an habitual weakness with him);and, with this end and aim, he condescendingly commanded Oliverto assist him in his toilet, straightway.Oliver was but too glad to make himself useful; too happy to havesome faces, however bad, to look upon; too desirous to conciliatethose about him when he could honestly do so; to throw anyobjection in the way of this proposal. So he at once expressedhis readiness; and, kneeling on the floor, while the Dodger satupon the table so that he could take his foot in his laps, heapplied himself to a process which Mr. Dawkins designated as'japanning his trotter-cases.' The phrase, rendered into plainEnglish, signifieth, cleaning his boots.Whether it was the sense of freedom and independence which arational animal may be supposed to feel when he sits on a tablein an easy attitude smoking a pipe, swinging one leg carelesslyto and fro, and having his boots cleaned all the time, withouteven the past trouble of having taken them off, or theprospective misery of putting them on, to disturb hisreflections; or whether it was the goodness of the tobacco thatsoothed the feelings of the Dodger, or the mildness of the beerthat mollified his thoughts; he was evidently tinctured, for thenonce, with a spice of romance and enthusiasm, foreign to hisgeneral nature. He looked down on Oliver, with a thoughtfulcountenance, for a brief space; and then, raising his head, andheaving a gentle sign, said, half in abstraction, and half toMaster Bates:'What a pity it is he isn't a prig!''Ah!' said Master Charles Bates; 'he don't know what's good forhim.'The Dodger sighed again, and resumed his pipe: as did CharleyBates. They both smoked, for some seconds, in silence.'I suppose you don't even know what a prig is?' said the Dodgermournfully.'I think I know that,' replied Oliver, looking up. 'It's athe--; you're one, are you not?' inquired Oliver, checkinghimself.'I am,' replied the Doger. 'I'd scorn to be anything else.' Mr.Dawkins gave his hat a ferocious cock, after delivering thissentiment, and looked at Master Bates, as if to denote that hewould feel obliged by his saying anything to the contrary.'I am,' repeated the Dodger. 'So's Charley. So's Fagin. So'sSikes. So's Nancy. So's Bet. So we all are, down to the dog.And he's the downiest one of the lot!''And the least given to peaching,' added Charley Bates.'He wouldn't so much as bark in a witness-box, for fear ofcommitting himself; no, not if you tied him up in one, and lefthim there without wittles for a fortnight,' said the Dodger.'Not a bit of it,' observed Charley.'He's a rum dog. Don't he look fierce at any strange cove thatlaughs or sings when he's in company!' pursued the Dodger.'Won't he growl at all, when he hears a fiddle playing! Anddon't he hate other dogs as ain't of his breed! Oh, no!''He's an out-and-out Christian,' said Charley.This was merely intended as a tribute to the animal's abilities,but it was an appropriate remark in another sense, if MasterBates had only known it; for there are a good many ladies andgentlemen, claiming to be out-and-out Christians, between whom,and Mr. Sikes' dog, there exist strong and singular points ofresemblance.'Well, well,' said the Dodger, recurring to the point from whichthey had strayed: with that mindfulness of his profession whichinfluenced all his proceedings. 'This hasn't go anything to dowith young Green here.''No more it has,' said Charley. 'Why don't you put yourselfunder Fagin, Oliver?''And make your fortun' out of hand?' added the Dodger, with agrin.'And so be able to retire on your property, and do the gen-teel:as I mean to, in the very next leap-year but four that evercomes, and the forty-second Tuesday in Trinity-week,' saidCharley Bates.'I don't like it,' rejoined Oliver, timidly; 'I wish they wouldlet me go. I--I--would rather go.''And Fagin would rather not!' rejoined Charley.Oliver knew this too well; but thinking it might be dangerous toexpress his feelings more openly, he only sighed, and went onwith his boot-cleaning.'Go!' exclaimed the Dodger. 'Why, where's your spirit?' Don'tyou take any pride out of yourself? Would you go and bedependent on your friends?''Oh, blow that!' said Master Bates: drawing two or three silkhandkerchiefs from his pocket, and tossing them into a cupboard,'that's too mean; that is.''_I_ couldn't do it,' said the Dodger, with an air of haughtydisgust.'You can leave your friends, though,' said Oliver with a halfsmile; 'and let them be punished for what you did.''That,' rejoined the Dodger, with a wave of his pipe, 'That wasall out of consideration for Fagin, 'cause the traps know that wework together, and he might have got into trouble if we hadn'tmade our lucky; that was the move, wasn't it, Charley?'Master Bates nodded assent, and would have spoken, but therecollection of Oliver's flight came so suddenly upon him, thatthe smoke he was inhaling got entagled with a laugh, and went upinto his head, and down into his throat: and brought on a fit ofcoughing and stamping, about five minutes long.'Look here!' said the Dodger, drawing forth a handful ofshillings and halfpence. 'Here's a jolly life! What's the oddswhere it comes from? Here, catch hold; there's plenty more wherethey were took from. You won't, won't you? Oh, you preciousflat!''It's naughty, ain't it, Oliver?' inquired Charley Bates. 'He'llcome to be scragged, won't he?''I don't know what that means,' replied Oliver.'Something in this way, old feller,' said Charly. As he said it,Master Bates caught up an end of his neckerchief; and, holding iterect in the air, dropped his head on his shoulder, and jerked acurious sound through his teeth; thereby indicating, by a livelypantomimic representation, that scragging and hanging were oneand the same thing.'That's what it means,' said Charley. 'Look how he stares, Jack!I never did see such prime company as that 'ere boy; he'll be thedeath of me, I know he will.' Master Charley Bates, havinglaughed heartily again, resumed his pipe with tears in his eyes.'You've been brought up bad,' said the Dodger, surveying hisboots with much satisfaction when Oliver had polished them.'Fagin will make something of you, though, or you'll be the firsthe ever had that turned out unprofitable. You'd better begin atonce; for you'll come to the trade long before you think of it;and you're only losing time, Oliver.'Master Bates backed this advice with sundry moral admonitions ofhis own: which, being exhausted, he and his friend Mr. Dawkinslaunched into a glowing description of the numerous pleasuresincidental to the life they led, interspersed with a variety ofhints to Oliver that the best thing he could do, would be tosecure Fagin's favour without more delay, by the means which theythemselves had employed to gain it.'And always put this in your pipe, Nolly,' said the Dodger, asthe Jew was heard unlocking the door above, 'if you don't takefogels and tickers--''What's the good of talking in that way?' interposed MasterBates; 'he don't know what you mean.''If you don't take pocket-handkechers and watches,' said theDodger, reducing his conversation to the level of Oliver'scapacity, 'some other cove will; so that the coves that lose 'emwill be all the worse, and you'll be all the worse, too, andnobody half a ha'p'orth the better, except the chaps wot getsthem--and you've just as good a right to them as they have.''To be sure, to be sure!' said the Jew, who had entered unseen byOliver. 'It all lies in a nutshell my dear; in a nutshell, takethe Dodger's word for it. Ha! ha! ha! He understands thecatechism of his trade.'The old man rubbed his hands gleefully together, as hecorroborated the Dodger's reasoning in these terms; and chuckledwith delight at his pupil's proficiency.The conversation proceeded no farther at this time, for the Jewhad returned home accompanied by Miss Betsy, and a gentleman whomOliver had never seen before, but who was accosted by the Dodgeras Tom Chitling; and who, having lingered on the stairs toexchange a few gallantries with the lady, now made hisappearance.Mr. Chitling was older in years than the Dodger: having perhapsnumbered eighteen winters; but there was a degree of deference inhis deportment towards that young gentleman which seemed toindicate that he felt himself conscious of a slight inferiorityin point of genius and professional aquirements. He had smalltwinkling eyes, and a pock-marked face; wore a fur cap, a darkcorduroy jacket, greasy fustian trousers, and an apron. Hiswardrobe was, in truth, rather out of repair; but he excusedhimself to the company by stating that his 'time' was only out anhour before; and that, in consequence of having worn theregimentals for six weeks past, he had not been able to bestowany attention on his private clothes. Mr. Chitling added, withstrong marks of irritation, that the new way of fumigatingclothes up yonder was infernal unconstitutional, for it burntholes in them, and there was no remedy against the County. Thesame remark he considered to apply to the regulation mode ofcutting the hair: which he held to be decidedly unlawful. Mr.Chitling wound up his observations by stating that he had nottouched a drop of anything for forty-two moral long hard-workingdays; and that he 'wished he might be busted if he warn't as dryas a lime-basket.''Where do you think the gentleman has come from, Oliver?'inquired the Jew, with a grin, as the other boys put a bottle ofspirits on the table.'I--I--don't know, sir,' replied Oliver.'Who's that?' inquired Tom Chitling, casting a contemptuous lookat Oliver.'A young friend of mine, my dear,' replied the Jew.'He's in luck, then,' said the young man, with a meaning look atFagin. 'Never mind where I came from, young 'un; you'll findyour way there, soon enough, I'll bet a crown!'At this sally, the boys laughed. After some more jokes on thesame subject, they exchanged a few short whispers with Fagin; andwithdrew.After some words apart between the last comer and Fagin, theydrew their chairs towards the fire; and the Jew, telling Oliverto come and sit by him, led the conversation to the topics mostcalculated to interest his hearers. These were, the greatadvantages of the trade, the proficiency of the Dodger, theamiability of Charley Bates, and the liberality of the Jewhimself. At length these subjects displayed signs of beingthoroughly exhausted; and Mr. Chitling did the same: for thehouse of correction becomes fatiguing after a week or two. MissBetsy accordingly withdrew; and left the party to their repose.From this day, Oliver was seldom left alone; but was placed inalmost constant communication with the two boys, who played theold game with the Jew every day: whether for their ownimprovement or Oliver's, Mr. Fagin best knew. At other times theold man would tell them stories of robberies he had committed inhis younger days: mixed up with so much that was droll andcurious, that Oliver could not help laughing heartily, andshowing that he was amused in spite of all his better feelings.In short, the wily old Jew had the boy in his toils. Havingprepared his mind, by solitude and gloom, to prefer any societyto the companionship of his own sad thoughts in such a drearyplace, he was now slowly instilling into his soul the poisonwhich he hoped would blacken it, and change its hue for ever.