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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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'
You
,
Mr.
Bumble
!
'
'
I
,
Mrs.
Mann
.
We
name
our
fondlings
in
alphabetical
order
.
The
last
was
a
S
--
Swubble
,
I
named
him
.
This
was
a
T
--
Twist
,
I
named
HIM
.
The
next
one
comes
will
be
Unwin
,
and
the
next
Vilkins
.
I
have
got
names
ready
made
to
the
end
of
the
alphabet
,
and
all
the
way
through
it
again
,
when
we
come
to
Z.
'
'
Why
,
you
're
quite
a
literary
character
,
sir
!
'
said
Mrs.
Mann
.
'
Well
,
well
,
'
said
the
beadle
,
evidently
gratified
with
the
compliment
;
'
perhaps
I
may
be
.
Perhaps
I
may
be
,
Mrs.
Mann
.
'
He
finished
the
gin-and-water
,
and
added
,
'
Oliver
being
now
too
old
to
remain
here
,
the
board
have
determined
to
have
him
back
into
the
house
.
I
have
come
out
myself
to
take
him
there
.
So
let
me
see
him
at
once
.
'
'
I
'll
fetch
him
directly
,
'
said
Mrs.
Mann
,
leaving
the
room
for
that
purpose
.
Oliver
,
having
had
by
this
time
as
much
of
the
outer
coat
of
dirt
which
encrusted
his
face
and
hands
,
removed
,
as
could
be
scrubbed
off
in
one
washing
,
was
led
into
the
room
by
his
benevolent
protectress
.
'
Make
a
bow
to
the
gentleman
,
Oliver
,
'
said
Mrs.
Mann
.
Oliver
made
a
bow
,
which
was
divided
between
the
beadle
on
the
chair
,
and
the
cocked
hat
on
the
table
.
'
Will
you
go
along
with
me
,
Oliver
?
'
said
Mr.
Bumble
,
in
a
majestic
voice
.
Oliver
was
about
to
say
that
he
would
go
along
with
anybody
with
great
readiness
,
when
,
glancing
upward
,
he
caught
sight
of
Mrs.
Mann
,
who
had
got
behind
the
beadle
's
chair
,
and
was
shaking
her
fist
at
him
with
a
furious
countenance
.
He
took
the
hint
at
once
,
for
the
fist
had
been
too
often
impressed
upon
his
body
not
to
be
deeply
impressed
upon
his
recollection
.
