Олівер Твіст

Chapter 17

           Assuddenshiftingsofthescene,andrapidchangesoftimeandplace,arenotonlysanctionedinbooksbylongusage,butarebymanyconsideredasthegreatartofauthorship:anauthor’sskillinhiscraftbeing,bysuchcritics,chieflyestimatedwithrelationtothedilemmasinwhichheleaveshischaractersattheendofeverychapter:thisbriefintroductiontothepresentonemayperhapsbedeemedunnecessary.Ifso,letitbeconsideredadelicateintimationonthepartofthehistorianthatheisgoingbacktothetowninwhichOliverTwistwasborn;thereadertakingitforgrantedthattherearegoodandsubstantialreasonsformakingthejourney,orhewouldnotbeinvitedtoproceeduponsuchanexpedition.

           Mr.Bumbleemergedatearlymorningfromtheworkhouse-gate,andwalkedwithportlycarriageandcommandingsteps,uptheHighStreet.Hewasinthefullbloomandprideofbeadlehood;hiscockedhatandcoatweredazzlinginthemorningsun;heclutchedhiscanewiththevigoroustenacityofhealthandpower.Mr.Bumblealwayscarriedhisheadhigh;butthismorningitwashigherthanusual.Therewasanabstractioninhiseye,anelevationinhisair,whichmighthavewarnedanobservantstrangerthatthoughtswerepassinginthebeadle’smind,toogreatforutterance.

           Mr.Bumblestoppednottoconversewiththesmallshopkeepersandotherswhospoketohim,deferentially,ashepassedalong.Hemerelyreturnedtheirsalutationswithawaveofhishand,andrelaxednotinhisdignifiedpace,untilhereachedthefarmwhereMrs.

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