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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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'
You
mus
n't
say
you
saw
me
,
Dick
,
'
said
Oliver
.
'
I
am
running
away
.
They
beat
and
ill-use
me
,
Dick
;
and
I
am
going
to
seek
my
fortune
,
some
long
way
off
.
I
do
n't
know
where
.
How
pale
you
are
!
'
'
I
heard
the
doctor
tell
them
I
was
dying
,
'
replied
the
child
with
a
faint
smile
.
'
I
am
very
glad
to
see
you
,
dear
;
but
do
n't
stop
,
do
n't
stop
!
'
'
Yes
,
yes
,
I
will
,
to
say
good-b
'
ye
to
you
,
'
replied
Oliver
.
'
I
shall
see
you
again
,
Dick
.
I
know
I
shall
!
You
will
be
well
and
happy
!
'
'
I
hope
so
,
'
replied
the
child
.
'
After
I
am
dead
,
but
not
before
.
I
know
the
doctor
must
be
right
,
Oliver
,
because
I
dream
so
much
of
Heaven
,
and
Angels
,
and
kind
faces
that
I
never
see
when
I
am
awake
.
Kiss
me
,
'
said
the
child
,
climbing
up
the
low
gate
,
and
flinging
his
little
arms
round
Oliver
's
neck
.
'
Good-b
'
ye
,
dear
!
God
bless
you
!
'
The
blessing
was
from
a
young
child
's
lips
,
but
it
was
the
first
that
Oliver
had
ever
heard
invoked
upon
his
head
;
and
through
the
struggles
and
sufferings
,
and
troubles
and
changes
,
of
his
after
life
,
he
never
once
forgot
it
.
Oliver
reached
the
stile
at
which
the
by-path
terminated
;
and
once
more
gained
the
high-road
.
It
was
eight
o'clock
now
.
Though
he
was
nearly
five
miles
away
from
the
town
,
he
ran
,
and
hid
behind
the
hedges
,
by
turns
,
till
noon
:
fearing
that
he
might
be
pursued
and
overtaken
.
Then
he
sat
down
to
rest
by
the
side
of
the
milestone
,
and
began
to
think
,
for
the
first
time
,
where
he
had
better
go
and
try
to
live
.
The
stone
by
which
he
was
seated
,
bore
,
in
large
characters
,
an
intimation
that
it
was
just
seventy
miles
from
that
spot
to
London
.
The
name
awakened
a
new
train
of
ideas
in
the
boy
's
mind
.
London
!
--
that
great
place
!
--
nobody
--
not
even
Mr.
Bumble
--
could
ever
find
him
there
!
He
had
often
heard
the
old
men
in
the
workhouse
,
too
,
say
that
no
lad
of
spirit
need
want
in
London
;
and
that
there
were
ways
of
living
in
that
vast
city
,
which
those
who
had
been
bred
up
in
country
parts
had
no
idea
of
.
It
was
the
very
place
for
a
homeless
boy
,
who
must
die
in
the
streets
unless
some
one
helped
him
.
As
these
things
passed
through
his
thoughts
,
he
jumped
upon
his
feet
,
and
again
walked
forward
.
He
had
diminished
the
distance
between
himself
and
London
by
full
four
miles
more
,
before
he
recollected
how
much
he
must
undergo
ere
he
could
hope
to
reach
his
place
of
destination
.
As
this
consideration
forced
itself
upon
him
,
he
slackened
his
pace
a
little
,
and
meditated
upon
his
means
of
getting
there
.
He
had
a
crust
of
bread
,
a
coarse
shirt
,
and
two
pairs
of
stockings
,
in
his
bundle
.
He
had
a
penny
too
--
a
gift
of
Sowerberry
's
after
some
funeral
in
which
he
had
acquitted
himself
more
than
ordinarily
well
--
in
his
pocket
.
'
A
clean
shirt
,
'
thought
Oliver
,
'
is
a
very
comfortable
thing
;
and
so
are
two
pairs
of
darned
stockings
;
and
so
is
a
penny
;
but
they
small
helps
to
a
sixty-five
miles
'
walk
in
winter
time
.
'
