"It chanced one morning, while Oliver's affairs were in
this auspicious and comfortable state, that Mr. Gamfield,
chimney-sweeper, was wending his way adown the High-street,
deeply cogitating in his mind his ways and means of paying
certain arrears of rent, for which his landlord had become rather
pressing. Mr. Gamfield's most sanguine calculation of funds
could not raise them within full five pounds of the desired
amount; and, in a species of arithmetical desperation, he was
alternately cudgelling his brains and his donkey, when, passing
the workhouse, his eyes encountered the bill on the gate.
"'Woo!' said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey.
"The donkey was in a state of profound abstraction—wondering,
probably, whether he was destined to be regaled with a
cabbage-stalk or two, when he had disposed of the two sacks of
soot with which the little cart was laden; so, without noticing
the word of command, he jogged onward.
"Mr. Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation on the donkey
generally, but more particularly on his eyes; and running after
him, bestowed a blow on his head which would inevitably have
beaten in any skull but a donkey's; then, catching hold of the
bridle, he gave his jaw a sharp wrench, by way of gentle reminder
that he was not his own master; and, having by these means turned
him round, he gave him another blow on the head, just to stun him
until he came back again; and, having done so, walked to the gate
to read the bill.
"The gentleman with the white waistcoat was standing at the
gate with his hands behind him, after having delivered himself
of some profound sentiments in the board-room. Having witnessed
the little dispute between Mr. Gamfield and the donkey, he smiled
joyously when that person came up to read the bill, for he saw
at once that Mr. Gamfield was just exactly the sort of master
Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he perused
the document, for five pounds was just the sum he had been
wishing for; and, as to the boy with which it was encumbered,
Mr. Gamfield, knowing what the dietary of the workhouse was,
well knew he would be a nice small pattern, just the very thing
for register stoves. So he spelt the bill through again, from
beginning to end; and then, touching his fur cap in token of
humility, accosted the gentleman in the white waistcoat.
"'This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to 'prentis,' said Mr.
Gamfield.
"'Yes, my man,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, with a
condescending smile, 'what of him?'
"'If the parish vould like him to learn a light, pleasant
trade, in a good 'spectable chimbley-sweepin bisness,' said Mr.
Gamfield, 'I wants a 'prentis, and I'm ready to take him.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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