Олівер Твіст

Chapter 6

           PoorNoah!Hewasallbutkilled,ma’am,whenIcomein.

           ‘Poorfellow!’saidMrs.Sowerberry:lookingpiteouslyonthecharity-boy.

           Noah,whosetopwaistcoat-buttonmighthavebeensomewhereonalevelwiththecrownofOliver’shead,rubbedhiseyeswiththeinsideofhiswristswhilethiscommiserationwasbestoweduponhim,andperformedsomeaffectingtearsandsniffs.

           ‘What’stobedone!’exclaimedMrs.Sowerberry.‘Yourmaster’snotathome;there’snotamaninthehouse,andhe’llkickthatdoordownintenminutes.Oliver’svigorousplungesagainstthebitoftimberinquestion,renderedthisoccurancehighlyprobable.

           ‘Dear,dear!Idon’tknow,ma’am,’saidCharlotte,‘unlesswesendforthepolice-officers.

           ‘Orthemillingtary,’suggestedMr.Claypole.

           ‘No,no,’saidMrs.Sowerberry:bethinkingherselfofOliver’soldfriend.‘RuntoMr.Bumble,Noah,andtellhimtocomeheredirectly,andnottoloseaminute;nevermindyourcap!Makehaste!Youcanholdaknifetothatblackeye,asyourunalong.

           It’llkeeptheswellingdown.

           Noahstoppedtomakenoreply,butstartedoffathisfullestspeed;andverymuchitastonishedthepeoplewhowereoutwalking,toseeacharity-boytearingthroughthestreetspell-mell,withnocaponhishead,andaclasp-knifeathiseye.

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