毕业论文翻译实践.doc

本科毕业论文 所在学院外国语学院专业名称英 语申请学士学位所属学科文学年级学生姓名、学号 指导教师姓名、职称完成日期二零一六年五月ContentsPart One: The Translated VersionPart Two: The Original StoryPart Three: Reflections on the Translation Project Part Four: Acknowledgments译文雾都孤儿 狄更斯 著 陈明茜 译 进一步讲述奥利弗在布朗罗先生家的情形，在布朗罗先生外出办事时，一位名叫格林维格的先生为他作了一番值得注意的预言。 布朗罗先生突然发出一声惊呼，奥利弗吓晕了过去，过了一会他醒了，在接下来的谈话中，老绅士和贝德温太太都十分谨慎，对画像避口不谈。也不谈论奥利弗德过去和未来，且谈论仅限于让他感到快乐的同时又不会刺激他为限。他仍然太虚弱，不能起床去吃饭，但第二天他下楼进入管家的房间，第一个举动就是将急切的目光投向那一面墙，希望能再次看到漂亮女士的面庞。他的期望破灭了，画像已经被摘走了。 “啊！”管家看着奥利弗眼睛看的方向说，“你瞧，没了。” “我也发现不见了，夫人，”奥利弗回答，“他们干吗要把画像拿走呢？” “是给摘下来了，孩子。因为布朗罗先生说了，它好像会使你挺难受似的，说不定会妨碍你身体复原，你是懂得的。”老妇人答道。 “噢，不，真的，一点也碍不着我，夫人，”奥利弗说，“我喜欢看，我可喜欢呢。” “好啦，好啦！”老妇人相当幽默地说，“你尽你所能恢复好，宝贝儿，它就能重新挂起来了，在那儿！我向你保证！现在让我们谈点别的事情吧。”此刻，奥利弗所能得到的关于肖像的情况就是这些了，因为老妇人在他生病期间对自己那样好，他便尝试着不再去想关于这个话题的事了。 他聚精会神地听她讲了许多故事，说她有一个既可爱又漂亮的女儿嫁了一位既可爱又漂亮的丈夫，女儿女婿都住在乡下。还有一个在西印度商人那做店员的儿子，他也是一个非常好的青年，很孝顺每年都会写四封信给家里。谈起那些信，泪水便涌上她的双眼。老妇人一五一十，说了半天儿女们的优点，此外还谈到他那体贴温柔的丈夫也有无数的优点，她丈夫已经去世了，真可怜啊！整整二十六年了。喝茶的时间到了。喝过茶，她开始教奥利弗玩纸牌，奥利弗学得快，一点也没让她费心。两人玩得兴致勃勃，毫无倦意，一直玩到该给病人来上一点暖和的对水红葡萄酒外带一片烤面包的时候才罢手，接着他才心满意足地睡觉去了。 奥利弗恢复健康的那些日子是多么幸福啊，一切都是那么宁静，整洁，井井有条。每个人都那么和蔼可亲，他向来在喧嚣扰嚷中生活，在他看来，这似乎就是天堂。他刚恢复到能自己穿衣服，布朗罗先生便叫人替他买了一套新衣套装，一顶新帽子和一双新皮鞋。奥利弗得知他可以随意处置旧衣服，他把它们给了一个对他非常友善的仆人，并且让她把它们卖给个犹太人，钱留下自己花。这事她很快就办妥了，奥利弗从客厅窗户里望出去，看见那犹太人把旧衣服打成一卷，放进袋子走远了。他满心欢喜，心想这些东西总算妥善处理了，自己现在不可能再有得重新穿上它们的危险。说实话，它们是烂得不成样子的破衣服，奥利弗在此之前从来没有一套新套装。 一天晚上，大约是画像事件之后的一个礼拜，他正坐着和贝德温夫人说话，从布朗罗先生那来了消息，如果奥利弗忒斯特精神很好的话，他希望能在他的书房见见他并且和他谈谈。 “哎哟，真没办法，你洗洗手，我帮你梳一个漂亮的分头，孩子。”贝德温夫人说，“真要命，早知道他要请你去，我们该给你戴一条干净的领子，把你打扮得跟六便士钱币一样漂亮。” 奥利弗照老妇人的要求的做了，尽管她一个劲惋惜，可已经来不及给他的衬衫领子压褶饰了。尽管少了这样重要的一大优势，他的模样还是十分清秀，招人喜欢。老妇人十分满意，一边将他从头打量到脚，一边说道：哪怕是早就接到通知，恐怕也没办法将他打扮得更精神了。 凭着老妇人这番话的鼓励，奥利弗敲了敲书房门。听到布朗罗先生叫他进去，他便进去了，他发现这一间小小的里屋整个就是一座书城，屋里有一扇窗户能看见几个精美的花圃。临窗放着一张桌子，布朗罗先生正坐在桌前看书。一见到奥利弗，他把书推到一边，叫他靠近桌旁坐下来。奥利弗照办了，心里感到挺纳闷，不知道去什么地方才找到要读这么多书的人。这些书好像是为了让全世界的人都变得聪明一些才写出来的。这一点在许多比奥利弗忒斯特更有见识的人看来，也依然是他们日常生活中一桩不可思议的事情。 “书可真多不是吗，我的孩子？”布朗罗先生观察到奥利弗带着好奇心打量着书架，从地板垒到天花板上。 “相当多，先生。”奥利弗答道，“我从没见过这么多书。” “如果你表现好的话，你可以读它们。”老绅士和蔼地说，“你会很喜欢它们，而不光是看看外表这样，在某些情况下，因为有些书的精华仅仅是书的封底封面。” “我想准是那些厚的书，先生。”奥利弗说，指了指几本封面烫金的四开本大书。 “那倒不一定，”老绅士说，他笑着拍了拍奥利弗的头，“还有一些同样也是大厚书，尽管篇幅要小的多。怎么样，想不想长大了做个聪明人也写书，嗯？” “我想我更愿意阅读它们，先生。”奥利弗答道。 “什么！你不想成为一个作家吗？”老绅士说。 奥利弗考虑了一会儿，最后说，他认为成为一个读书人更好；以上回答让老绅士由衷地笑了，并说他讲了一件妙不可言的事。奥利弗非常高兴，尽管他一点也不知道这句话妙在那里。 “好啦，好啦，”老绅士平静下来说道，“你别怕，我们不把你培养成一个作家就是了，只要是正当的手艺都可以学，或者改学制砖。” “谢谢您，先生。”奥利弗说，他答话时真挚态度引得老绅士再一次笑了，并且说了一些关于奇怪的直觉的事。奥利弗没听懂，也没太在意。 “现在，”布朗罗先生尽量说得温和一些，然而在这一时刻，他的脸色仍然比奥利弗一向所熟悉的要严肃的多。“孩子，我希望你认认真真听我说下边的话。我要和你开城布公地谈一谈，因为我确信你能够理解我的意思，就像许多年纪稍长的人一样。” “噢，不要告诉我你要把我送走，先生，求您了！”奥利弗惊叫起来。他被老绅士刚开始严肃的口吻吓到了。“不要把我赶出去，叫我又到街上去流浪。 让我留在这吧，当个仆人。不要把我送回原来那个鬼地方去，可怜可怜一个苦命的孩子吧，先生！” “亲爱的孩子，”老绅士说，他被奥利弗突如其来的激奋感动了。“你不需要担心我抛弃你，除非你给我个理由。” “我永远，永远不会了，先生，”奥利弗抢着说。 “但愿如此，”老绅士再次答道，“我不相信你会那样做，我以前被我尝试去帮助的对象欺骗过；不管怎样，我依然由衷地信任你。我自己都说不清为什么这样关心你。我曾倾注满腔爱心的那些人已经长眠于黄泉之下，我平生的幸福与欢乐也埋在了那里。不过从内心感情来说，我还没把我的心做成一口棺材永远封闭起来，切肤之痛只是使这种感情越发强烈与纯净罢了。” 老先生娓娓而谈，与其说是对那位小伙伴讲的，不如说是说给他自己听的。随后，他稍微顿了一下，奥利弗仍安静的坐着。 “好了，好了！”老绅士最后用欢快的语调说，“我说这些，是因为你有一颗年轻的心。要是你知道我曾遭受过巨大的疼痛与伤心，你就会更小心，或许不会再伤我一次了。你说你是个孤儿，在世上没有一个朋友。我多方打听的结果都证实了这一点。让我听听你的故事；你从哪里来，谁把你养大，你怎么进入我找到你的那个团伙的。说真的，在我有生之年你不会无依无靠的。” 奥利弗哽咽起来，好一会说不出话。他刚要开始讲述自己如何在农场里长大，布鲁斯又如何把他带到济贫院去的，大门口却响起来了颇不耐烦的敲门声。仆人跑上楼来报告说，格林维格先生来了。 “他上楼来了？”布朗罗先生问道。 “是的，先生，”仆人答道，“他问家里有没有英格兰松饼。我告诉他有，他说他是来喝茶的。” 布朗罗先生笑着转向奥利弗说，格林维格是他的一个老朋友，切不可对他的举止稍有些粗鲁而耿耿于怀，因为他骨子里是个值得尊敬的人，他这样说是有根据的。 “我要下楼去吗，先生？”奥利弗问道。 “不用，”布朗罗先生答道，“我更希望你待在这儿。” 这时，有人拄着粗拐杖进来了。他是一位肥胖的老绅士，一条腿有点跛。他穿着蓝色大衣，条纹马夹，淡黄色棉布马裤和长筒靴，头戴宽边且周边凸起绿边的白色礼帽。衬衫领褶从马夹里露出来，下边晃荡着一条长长的怀表钢链，表链末端只有一把钥匙在底下挂着。他白色围巾的尾端缠绕成一个桔子大小的球。他扭动面部，脸上做出各种表情，很难形容。当他说话的时候他的头习惯拧向一边，与此同时他的眼睛打眼角里往外看，使人看见他就不自觉地联想到鹦鹉。他一进来就定在那里，摆出那种姿势，手臂伸得长长的，拿出一小块桔子皮，忿忿不平地吼起来。 “瞧瞧，看见这个了吗？真是邪门，我每次去拜访一户人家都要在楼梯上发现这个东西，莫非是那个穷大夫的朋友干的？我已经让桔子皮拌瘸过一次，桔子皮总有一天会要了我的命，如果不是的话，我把自己的脑袋吃下去我也心甘情愿，老兄。” 格林维格先生最后夸下了一句海口。他每次提出一种主张几乎都要用这句作后盾。以他的具体情况而言这一点就更不可思议了，因为即使是为了作出这种论证，承认科学上可能出现的种种进步已经到了一位绅士能够在本人有这种意愿时吃下自己脑袋的程度。但格林维格的头是相当大的，就是世间最自信的人也不敢指望一顿把它吃下去，而且完全不考虑上边还抹着一层厚厚的发粉。 “我会把我的头吃下去，先生。”格林维格先生重复了一句，一边用手杖敲了敲地板。“喂！那是谁！”他打量着奥利弗，向后退了两步。 “这是小奥利弗忒斯特，我们上次说到的人就是他。”布朗罗先生说，奥利弗鞠了一躬。 “我希望你说的不是那个发烧的男孩吧。”格林维格说着又往后退了一点。“等一下，不要说话，停”格林维格先生继续说道。突然间，他又有了新发现，把发烧的疑惧抛到了脑后。 “他就是吃桔子的那个男孩。如果不是这个孩子吃了桔子，又把这一片桔子皮扔在楼梯上的话，老兄，我可以把我的脑袋连同他的一块吃掉。” “不，不，他没吃过桔子，”布朗罗先生笑道，“来，摘下你的帽子，和我的小朋友聊聊。” “我对这个问题很有感触，老兄。”这位易动怒的老绅士一边脱掉手套一边说。“我们这条街总是有或多或少的几片桔子皮，我知道是在拐角上那个外科大夫的孩子丢在那的。昨晚，一个年轻的女人就在那上边滑了一跤，撞在我花园的围栏上。她一爬起来，我看见她一个劲地往他那盏该死的红灯上瞅。你别到他那去，我向窗外大声喊，他就是凶手，人为的陷阱！所以他是，如果他不是这位性情暴躁的老绅士用手杖重重地敲了一下。朋友们向来就明白这个意思，每当词不达意时，他就会把这句口头禅搬出来。随后他依然握着手杖，坐下来并打开一副用黑色宽带子挂在身上的眼镜，看了奥利弗一眼。奥利弗见自己成了审查的对象，脸唰地一下红了，又鞠了一躬。 “他就是那个男孩，是吗？”格林维格先生终于问道。 “就是他，”布朗罗先生说。“你还好吗，孩子？”格林维格先生说。“好多了，谢谢你，先生。”奥利弗答道。 布朗罗先生似乎看出他脾气古怪的朋友要说一些不友善的话，就让奥利弗下楼并告诉贝德温夫人他们准备用茶。奥利弗一点也不喜欢来客的态度，便高兴地下楼去了。 “他长得不错，不是吗？”布朗罗先生问道。“我不知道。”格林维格先生想要发火了。“不知道？”“是，我不知道。我从来看不出小孩子有什么两样。我只知道两类孩子，一类是粉脸，一类是肉脸。” “奥利弗是哪一类？” “粉脸。我认识一个朋友，他儿子就属于肉脸。他们管他叫好孩子。他有圆圆的脑袋，红红的脸蛋，明亮的眼睛，可压根儿就是可恶的孩子。身体和四肢肥硕到把他蓝衣服的线都撑开了，有着飞行员的声音和狼一样的胃口，我知道他，这个坏蛋。” “哎呀，”布朗罗先生说，“这都不是奥利弗忒斯特的特点，所以他不至于激起你的愤怒。“是不是那个样子”格林维格先生回答道，“他也许更差劲。”布朗罗先生不耐烦地咳嗽起来，格林维格先生却感到有说不出的欣慰。“我说他可能更差劲，”格林维格先生重复着。“他从哪里来，他是谁，他是干什么的？他发过烧，那又怎样？不仅仅是好人才发烧，不是吗？坏人有时也会发烧；不是吗？恩？我知道牙买加有一个人因为谋杀他的主人而被绞死了，他发过六次烧。在这件事上他不值得同情，哼！胡说八道！”现在，事实是，在他自己心里最深的隐蔽处，格林维格很想承认奥利弗的仪表举止都非常讨人喜欢。可是他生来喜欢抬杠，这次因为拾到那片桔子皮，就更要抬抬杠了。他暗自决定，谁也别想对自己发号施令。说一个孩子是否好看，从一开始他就跟自己的朋友过过招。布朗罗先生承认，到目前为止没有一个问题他给出令人满意的答案。并且他已经把调查奥利弗以往经历的事搁在一边，等到他认为孩子经受得住的时候再说，格林维格冷笑一声。他不无嘲讽地问管家有没有在夜间清点餐具的习惯。因为如果她在某个阳光明媚的早晨没有发现丢了一两把汤匙的话，他宁愿说说。尽管布朗罗先生自己在某种程度上也是个冲动的绅士，可他知道他朋友的怪脾气，对这一切他还是带着少有的好兴致照单全收。在喝茶的时候格林维格先生亲切高兴地表达了他对英格兰松饼的赞赏，气氛十分融洽。奥利弗也在座，他逐渐感到自己不像刚见到这位凶巴巴的老绅士时那样紧张了。“你什么时候才能原原本本详详细细地听到有关奥利弗生活遭遇的故事呢？”吃过茶点，他斜着眼盯住奥利弗，重新提起了这件事。“明天早晨，”布朗罗先生答道。“到时候我更愿意他独自跟我在一块。明天十点来找我，亲爱的。”“好的，先生，”奥利弗答道。他答得有些迟疑，因为很疑惑格林维格先生看他的眼神为什么那么冷峻。“我要告诉你点事，”老绅士对布朗罗先生耳语说，“他明早不会来找你，我看见他犹豫了，他在骗你，我的好朋友。”“我发誓他没有，”布朗罗先生温和地答道。“如果他没有，”格林维格先生说，“我将”他把手杖放下了。“我将用我的生命担保孩子很诚实！”布朗罗先生敲着桌子说。“我敢拿我的脑袋担保他会说谎！”格林维格先生也敲着桌子再次应声答道。“我们走着瞧，”布朗罗先生压住火说。“走着瞧，”格林维格先生带着一种气人的微笑说着，“走着瞧。”真好像命中注定似的，贝德温夫人恰好在这时拿着一包书进来了，这是布朗罗先生那天早上从那位书摊掌柜那里买的，他在前面的故事中出现过。她把书放在桌子上准备离开房间。“让那个送书的男孩等一下，贝德温夫人！”布朗罗先生说，还有东西要他带回去。”“他已经走了，先生。”贝德温夫人答道。“叫他回来，”布朗罗先生说，“这人也真是的，他是个穷人，这些书还没付钱，这还有几本书也要送回去。”大门开了，奥利弗和女仆分两路追了出去。贝德温夫人站在台阶上，大声呼喊送书来的男孩，但男孩已将不见了影儿。奥利弗和女仆气喘吁吁地回来了，回报说不知道他跑哪去了。“啧啧，我感到非常抱歉，”布朗罗先生惊呼道，“我特别希望那些书今晚能还回去。”“把这些书给奥利弗，”格林维格先生讽刺地笑着，“他一定能把它们安全送到，你知道的。”“是啊，如果你愿意的话啊，让我把它们送去，先生，”奥利佛说。“我会跑着去的，先生。”那个老绅士刚要说任何情况下奥利佛都不应该出去，格林维格带有敌意地咳嗽了一声，这迫使他决定让奥利佛跑一趟，由他迅速办完这档子事，自己就可以向维格先生证明，他的猜疑在这一点上至少是不公正的，而且可以立刻证明。“你可以去，我亲爱的，”老绅士说，“书放在桌子旁边的椅子上，把它们拿下来。”奥利佛非常高兴自己能有用处。在慌乱中拿下来书夹在胳膊底下，手里拿着帽子，听候吩咐。“你这样说，”布朗罗先生目不转睛地看着格林维格先生：“你就说你把那些书送回来了，并且你要支付我欠他的四镑十先令。这是一张五镑的钞票，所以你应该给我带回十先令的零钱。”“用不了十分钟我就回来，先生，”奥利弗热切地说。他把钞票放在夹克的口袋里并小心翼翼地把书夹在胳膊下。他有礼貌地鞠了一躬，离开了房间。贝德温夫人跟着他到了大门口，给了他不少嘱咐最近的路怎么走啦，书摊老板的姓名啦，街道名称啦。奥利弗说他一切都清楚了。老妇人又添上许多训诫，路上当心，别着凉，这才准许他离开。“保佑他可爱的面庞！”老妇人目送他到门外。“不管怎么说我不能忍受他走出我的视线。此刻，奥利弗快乐地向四周张望。他在转角的地方朝老妇人点点头。老妇人笑呵呵地还了礼，关上门走回她自己的房间。“我看最多二十分钟他就会回来，”布朗罗先生拿出他的表放在桌子上。“那时天就黑了。”“哇！你还真以为他能回来？”格林维格先生问。“你不这样看？”布朗罗先生笑着反问道。格林维格先生心里的矛盾很强烈。此刻他因为朋友自信的笑容，更来劲了。“是的，”他用拳头猛捶桌子说道，“我认为，这男孩有新套装穿在身上，一摞值钱的书夹在胳膊底下，还有五镑的钞票在他手里，他将会回到那窝贼朋友那嘲笑你！如果那个男孩返回这座房子，先生，我就把自己的脑袋吃下去。”他说罢这番话，把椅子拉的离桌子近了一些。两个朋友一言不发地坐在那里，表放在他俩之间。为了举例说明我们对自身做出的判断有多么看重，做出一些极为鲁莽轻率的结论时又是多么自负，有一点很值得注意，那就是尽管格林维格先生绝对不是心术不正的坏蛋，看着自己尊重的朋友上当受骗，他会真心诚意地感到难过。在这一刻，他却由衷而强烈地希望奥利弗不要回来。天渐渐黑了，连表上的数字也几乎看不清了，但两个老绅士依然默不作声地坐在那儿，表放在他俩中间。原文 Oliver Twist Charles Dickens .Comprising Further Particulars of Olivers Stay at Mr. Brownkows, with the Remarkable Prediction Which One Mr. Grimwig Uttered Concerning Him, When He Went out on an Errand. Oliver soon recovering from the fainting-fit into which Mr. Brownlows abrupt exclamation had thrown him, the subject of the picture was carefully avoided, both by the old gentleman and Mrs. Bedwin, in the conversation that ensued: which indeed bore no reference to Olivers history or prospects, but was confined to such topics as might amuse without exciting him. He was still too weak to get up to breakfast; but, when he came down into the housekeepers room next day, his first act was to cast an eager glance at the wall, in the hope of again looking on the face of the beautiful lady. His expectations were disappointed, however, for the picture had been removed. Ah! said the housekeeper, watching the direction of Olivers eyes. It is gone, you see. I see it is maam, replied Oliver. Why have they taken it away? It has been taken down, child, because Mr. Brownlow said, that as it seemed to worry you, perhaps it might prevent you getting well, you know, rejoined the old lady. Oh, not indeed. It didnt worry me, maam, said Oliver. I liked to see it. I quite loved it. Well, well! said the old lady, good-humouredly; you get well as fast as ever you can, dear, and it shall be hung up again. There! I promise you that! Now, let us talk about something else.This was all the information Oliver could obtain about the picture at that time. As the old lady had been so kind to him in his illness, he endeavoured to think no more of the subject just then; so he listened attentively to a great many stories she told him, about an amiable and handsome daughter of hers, who was married to an amiable and handsome man, and lived in the country; and about a son, who was clerk to a merchant in the West Indies; and who was, also, such a good young man, and wrote such dutiful letters home four times a year, that it brought the tears into her eyes to talk about them. When the old lady had expatiated, a long time, on the excellences of her children, and the merits of her kind good husband besides, who had been dead and gone, poor dear soul! just six-and-twenty years, it was time to have tea. After tea she began to teach Oliver cribbage: which he learnt as quickly as she could teach: and at which game they played, with great interest and gravity, until it was time for the invalid to have some warm wine and water, with a slice of dry toast, and then to go cosily to bed. They were happy days, those of Olivers recovery. Everything was so quiet, and neat, and orderly; everybody so kind and gentle; that after the noise and turbulence in the midst of which he had always lived, it seemed like Heaven itself. He was no sooner strong enough to put his clothes on, properly, than Mr. Brownlow caused a complete new suit, and a new cap, and a new pair of shoes, to be provided for him. As Oliver was told that he might do what he liked with the old clothes, he gave them to a servant who had been very kind to him, and asked her to sell them to a Jew, and keep the money for herself. This she very readily did; and, as Oliver looked out of the parlour window, and saw the Jew roll them up in his bag and walk away, he felt quite delighted to think that they were safely gone, and that there was now no possible danger of his ever being able to wear them again. They were sad rags, to tell the truth; and Oliver had never had a new suit before. One evening, about a week after the affair of the picture, as he was sitting talking to Mrs. Bedwin, there came a message down from Mr. Brownlow, that if Oliver Twist felt pretty well, he should like to see him in his study, and talk to him a little while. Bless us, and save us! Wash your hands, and let me part your hair nicely for you, child, said Mrs. Bedwin. Dear heart alive! If we had known he would have asked for you, we would have put you a clean collar on, and made you as smart as sixpence! Oliver did as the old lady bade him; and, although she lamented grievously, meanwhile, that there was not even time to crimp the little frill that bordered his shirt-collar; he looked so delicate and handsome, despite that important personal advantage, that she went so far as to say: looking at him with great complacency from head to foot, that she really didnt think it would have been possible, on the longest notice, to have made much difference in him for the better. Thus encouraged, Oliver tapped at the study door. On Mr. Brownlow calling to him to come in, he found himself in a little back room, quite full of books, with a window, looking into some pleasant little gardens. There was a table drawn up before the window, at which Mr. Brownlow was seated reading. When he saw Oliver, he pushed the book away from him, and told him to come near the table, and sit down.Oliver complied; marvelling where the people could be found to read such a great number of books as seemed to be written to make the world wiser. Which is still a marvel to more experienced people than Oliver Twist,every day of their lives. There are a good many books, are there not, my boy? said Mr. Brownlow, observing the curiosity with which Oliver surveyed the shelves that reached from the floor to the ceiling. A great number, sir, replied Oliver. I never saw so many. You shall read them, if you behave well, said the old gentleman kindly; and you will like that, better than looking at the outsides,that is, some cases; because there are books of which the backs and covers are by far the best parts.I suppose they are those heavy ones, sir, said Oliver, pointing to some large quartos, with a good deal of gilding about the binding. Not always those, said the old gentleman, patting Oliver on the head, and smiling as he did so; there are other equally heavy ones, though of a much smaller size. How should you like to grow up a clever man, and write books, eh? I think I would rather read them, sir, replied Oliver. What! wouldnt you like to be a book-writer? said the old gentleman. Oliver considered a little while; and at last said, he should think it would be a much better thing to be a book-seller; upon which the old gentleman laughed heartily, and declared he had said a very good thing. Which Oliver felt glad to have done, though he by no means knew what it was. Well, well, said the old gentleman, composing his features. Dont be afraid! We wont make an author of you, while theres an honest trade to be learnt, or brick-making to turn to. Thank you, sir, said Oliver. At the earnest manner of his reply, the old gentleman laughed again; and said something about a curious instinct, which Oliver, not understanding, paid no very great attention to. Now, said Mr. Brownlow, speaking if possible in a kinder, but at the same time in a much more serious manner, than Oliver had ever known him assume yet, I want you to pay great attention, my boy, to what I am going to say. I shall talk to you without any reserve; because I am sure you are well able to understand me, as many older persons would be. Oh, dont tell you are going to send me away, sir, pray! exclaimed Oliver, alarmed at the serious tone of the old gentlemans commencement! Dont turn me out of doors to wander in the streets again. Let me stay here, and be a servant. Dont send me back to the wretched place I came from. Have mercy upon a poor boy, sir! My dear child, said the old gentleman, moved by the warmth of Olivers sudden appeal; you need not be afraid of my deserting you, unless you give me cause. I never , never will, sir, interposed Oliver. I hope not, rejoined the old gentleman. I do not think you ever will. I have been deceived, before, in the objects whom I have endeavoured to benefit; but I feel strongly disposed to trust you, nevertheless; and I am more interested in your behalf than I can well account for, even to myself. The persons on whom I have bestowed my dearest love, lie deep in their graves; but, although the happiness and delight of my life lie buried there too, I have not made a coffin of my heart, and sealed it up, forever, on my best affections. Deep affliction has but strengthened and refined them. As the old gentleman said this in a low voice: more to himself than to his companion: and as he remained silent for a short time afterwards: Oliver sat quite still. Well, well! said the old gentleman at length, in a more cheerful tone, I only say this, because you have a young heart; and knowing that I have suffered great pain and sorrow, you will be more careful, perhaps, not to wound me again. You say you are an orphan, without a friend in the world; all the inquiries I have been able to make, confirm the statement. Let me hear your story; where you come from; who brought you up; and how you got into the company in which I found you. Speak the truth, and you shall not be friendless while I live. Olivers sobs checked his utterance for some minutes; when he was on the point of beginning to relate how he had been brought up at the farm, and carried to the workhouse by Mr. Bumble, a peculiarly impatient little double-knock was heard at the street-door: and the servant, running upstairs, announced Mr. Grimwig. Is he coming up? inquired Mr. Brownlow. Yes, sir, replied the servant. He asked if there were any muffins in the house; and, when I told him yes, he said he had come to tea. Mr. Brownlow smiled; and, turning to Oliver, said that Mr. Grimwig was an old friend of his, and he must not mind his being a little rough in his manners; for he was a worthy creature at bottom, as he had reason to know. Shall I go downstairs, sir? inquired Oliver. No, replied Mr. Brownlow, I would rather you remained here. At this moment, there walked into the room: supporting himself by a thick stick: a stout old gentleman, rather lame in one leg, who was dressed in a blue coat, striped waistcoat, nankeen breeches an