Олівер Твіст

Chapter 14

           OnMr.Brownlowcallingtohimtocomein,hefoundhimselfinalittlebackroom,quitefullofbooks,withawindow,lookingintosomepleasantlittlegardens.Therewasatabledrawnupbeforethewindow,atwhichMr.Brownlowwasseatedreading.WhenhesawOliver,hepushedthebookawayfromhim,andtoldhimtocomenearthetable,andsitdown.Olivercomplied;marvellingwherethepeoplecouldbefoundtoreadsuchagreatnumberofbooksasseemedtobewrittentomaketheworldwiser.WhichisstillamarveltomoreexperiencedpeoplethanOliverTwist,everydayoftheirlives.

           ‘Thereareagoodmanybooks,aretherenot,myboy?’saidMr.Brownlow,observingthecuriositywithwhichOliversurveyedtheshelvesthatreachedfromthefloortotheceiling.

           ‘Agreatnumber,sir,’repliedOliver.‘Ineversawsomany.

           ‘Youshallreadthem,ifyoubehavewell,’saidtheoldgentlemankindly;‘andyouwilllikethat,betterthanlookingattheoutsidesthatis,somecases;becausetherearebooksofwhichthebacksandcoversarebyfarthebestparts.

           ‘Isupposetheyarethoseheavyones,sir,’saidOliver,pointingtosomelargequartos,withagooddealofgildingaboutthebinding.

           ‘Notalwaysthose,’saidtheoldgentleman,pattingOliveronthehead,andsmilingashedidso;‘thereareotherequallyheavyones,thoughofamuchsmallersize.Howshouldyouliketogrowupacleverman,andwritebooks,eh?’

           ‘IthinkIwouldratherreadthem,sir,’repliedOliver.

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