Chapter-3 We hadn’t gone half a mile, and my handkerchief was wet through with tears, when Peggotty burst through a hedgerow and flagged the driver to stop. She climbed into the car with me and squeezed me in her big, warm arms. Without a word she pulled from her pockets some paper bags of cookies […]
Chapter-2 My mother was beautiful, with silky, long hair and a youthful shape. Peggotty with no shape at all and eyes so black they seemed to darken her whole face, had such red and firm cheeks and arms that I expected birds to peck at her instead of the apples that lay in the orchard.
Chapter-1 I was born on Friday, at midnight. The clock began to strike its twelve tones and I gave my first good cry all at the same moment. According to the custom of those superstitious times, the hour and day of my birth were thought to set me up for an unlucky life, and for
Chapter-11 Before three months had passed, Rose Fleming and Harry Maylie were married in the village church which was henceforth to be the scene of the young clergyman’s labours; on the same day they entered into possession for their new and happy home.Mrs Maylie took up her abode with her son and daughter-in-law, to enjoy,
Chapter-10 The twilight was beginning to close in when Mr Brownlow alighted from a hackney-coach at his own door and knocked softly. The door being opened, a sturdy man got out of the coach and stationed himself on one side of the steps, while another man who had been seated on the box, dismounted too
Chapter-9 Upon the night when Nancy, having lulled Mr Sikes to sleep, hurried on her self-imposed mission to Rose Maylie, two persons upon whom it was expedient that this history should bestow some attention advanced towards London by the Great North Road.They were a man and a woman. The former was one of those long
Chapter-8 On the evening following that upon which the three worthies mentioned in the last chapter disposed of their little matter of business as therein narrated, Mr William Sikes, awakening from a nap, drowsily growled forth aninquity what time of night it was.The room in which Mr Sikes was situated was at no great distance
Chapter-7 Mr Bumble sat in the workhouse parlour with his eyes moodily fixed on the cheerless grate, whence, as it was summer time, no brighter gleam proceeded than the reflection of certain sickly rays of the sun which were sent back from its cold and shining surface.Mr Bumble’s laced coat and cocked hat, where were
Chapter-6 One night, Bill, Sikes, Crackit and Toby (the members of the Jew’s party) along with Oliver went out on a robbery spree. All of them except Oliver had their pistols fully loaded. In the dead of night they made their way towards a house to loot it. Now for the first time, Oliver nearly
Chapter-5 In the obscure parlour of a low public-house in the filthiest part of Little Saffron Hill, a dark and gloomy den where a flaring gaslight burnt all day in the winter time, and where no ray of sun ever shone in the summer, there sat Mr William Sikes. At his feet sat a white-coated,
Chapter-4 After a hot chase, Oliver was caught. The offence had been committed within the district, and indeed in the immediate neighbourhood of a very notorious metropolitan police office. The crown had only the satisfaction of accompanying Oliver through two or three streets and down a place called Mutton Hill, when he was led beneath
Chapter-3 Hearing the uproar Oliver ran away from there. He reached the stile at which the bypath 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
Chapter-2 Mr Bumble, who had been dispatched by the board to make various preliminary inquiries, with a view to finding out some captain or other who wanted a cabin-boy without any friends, was returning to the workhouse when he encountered at the gate no less a person than Mr Sowerberry, the parochial undertaker. Mr Sowerberry
Chapter-1 In a certain town, there was a workhouse. In that workhouse, a child by the name Oliver Twist was born. There was nobody by but a pauper old woman who was rendered rather misty by an unwonted allowance of beer, and a parish surgeon.As Oliver gave his first cry, the patchwork coverlet which was
There was a very poor woodcutter. In spite of the poverty he was very honest. Once, he was cutting a branch from the tree that stood on the river-bank. The axe slipped out of his hands and fell into the river.The river was very deep. He could not descend into the river to recover his