06-02-雾都孤儿 [10]
his feet and walked forward again．
But after only four miles he began to realize just how far he would have to walk． He stopped to think about it． He had a piece of bread， a rough shirt， two pairs of socks and a penny. But he could not see how the se would help him get to London any faster， so he continued walking．
He walked twenty miles that day． The only thing he had to eat was his piece of bread and some water which he begged from houses near the road. He slept the first night in a field，feeling lonely， tired， cold and hungry. He was even hungrier the next morning when he woke up， and he had to buy some more bread with his penny．That day he walked only twelve miles． His legs were so weak that They shook beneath him．
The next day he tried to beg for money， but large signs in some villages warned him that anyone caught begging would be sent to prison. Travellers on the road refused to give him money； They said he was a lazy young dog and didn't deserve anything. Farmers threatened to send their dogs after him．When he waited outside pubs，the pub－owners chased him away because They thought he had come to steal something．Only two people were kind enough to feed him： an old woman and a gate－keeper on the road. If They had not given him some food， he surely would have died like his mother.
Early on the seventh morning of his journey， O liver finally reached the little town of Barnet，just outside London. Exhausted，he sat down at the side of the road. His feet were bleeding and he was covered in dust． He was too tired even to beg．The n he noticed that a boy， who had passed him a few minutes before，had returned， and was now looking at him carefully from the opposite side of the road． After a long time the boy crossed the road and said to O liver，
'Hello！ What's the matter the n？'
The boy was about O liver's age， but was one of the strangest-looking people he had ever seen. He had a dirty，ordinary boy's face， but he behaved as if he were an adult． He was short for his age and had little， sharp，ugly eyes. His hat was stuck on top of his head but it looked as though it would blow off at any minute． He wore a man's coat which reached almost down to his feet， with sleeves so long that his hands were completely covered.
'I'm very tired and hungry，'answered O liver， almost crying． 'I've been walking for a week．'
'A week！ The magistrate's order， was it？'
'The magistrate？What's that？'
'A magistrate's a kind of judge，'explained the surprised young gentleman. He realized O liver did not have much experience of the world． 'Never mind that．You want some food，' he went on. 'I haven't got much money but don't worry－I'll pay．'
The boy helped O liver to his feet， and took him to a pub. Meat， bread， and beer were placed before O liver， and his new friend urged him to satisfy his hunger． While O liver was eating， the strange boy looked at him from time to time with great attention．
'Going to London？' he asked him finally．
'Yes.'
'Got anywhere to live？'
'No．'
'Money？'
'No．'
The strange boy whistled， and put his arms into his pockets as far as the big coat sleeves would allow him． 'I suppose you want to sleep somewhere tonight， don't you？'
'I do，' replied O liver． 'I haven't slept under a roof since I started my journey．'
'Well， don't worry．I've got to be in London tonight， and I know a very nice old gentleman the re who'll let you live in his place and not even ask you for money！'
O liver was deeply grateful for this offer of shelter and talked for a long time with his new friend． His name was Jack Dawkins， but he was usually called 'The Artful Dodger'． 'Artful' because he was very clever at getting what he wanted；and 'Dodger' because he was very good at not getting caught when he did something wrong．When he heard this，O liver
But after only four miles he began to realize just how far he would have to walk． He stopped to think about it． He had a piece of bread， a rough shirt， two pairs of socks and a penny. But he could not see how the se would help him get to London any faster， so he continued walking．
He walked twenty miles that day． The only thing he had to eat was his piece of bread and some water which he begged from houses near the road. He slept the first night in a field，feeling lonely， tired， cold and hungry. He was even hungrier the next morning when he woke up， and he had to buy some more bread with his penny．That day he walked only twelve miles． His legs were so weak that They shook beneath him．
The next day he tried to beg for money， but large signs in some villages warned him that anyone caught begging would be sent to prison. Travellers on the road refused to give him money； They said he was a lazy young dog and didn't deserve anything. Farmers threatened to send their dogs after him．When he waited outside pubs，the pub－owners chased him away because They thought he had come to steal something．Only two people were kind enough to feed him： an old woman and a gate－keeper on the road. If They had not given him some food， he surely would have died like his mother.
Early on the seventh morning of his journey， O liver finally reached the little town of Barnet，just outside London. Exhausted，he sat down at the side of the road. His feet were bleeding and he was covered in dust． He was too tired even to beg．The n he noticed that a boy， who had passed him a few minutes before，had returned， and was now looking at him carefully from the opposite side of the road． After a long time the boy crossed the road and said to O liver，
'Hello！ What's the matter the n？'
The boy was about O liver's age， but was one of the strangest-looking people he had ever seen. He had a dirty，ordinary boy's face， but he behaved as if he were an adult． He was short for his age and had little， sharp，ugly eyes. His hat was stuck on top of his head but it looked as though it would blow off at any minute． He wore a man's coat which reached almost down to his feet， with sleeves so long that his hands were completely covered.
'I'm very tired and hungry，'answered O liver， almost crying． 'I've been walking for a week．'
'A week！ The magistrate's order， was it？'
'The magistrate？What's that？'
'A magistrate's a kind of judge，'explained the surprised young gentleman. He realized O liver did not have much experience of the world． 'Never mind that．You want some food，' he went on. 'I haven't got much money but don't worry－I'll pay．'
The boy helped O liver to his feet， and took him to a pub. Meat， bread， and beer were placed before O liver， and his new friend urged him to satisfy his hunger． While O liver was eating， the strange boy looked at him from time to time with great attention．
'Going to London？' he asked him finally．
'Yes.'
'Got anywhere to live？'
'No．'
'Money？'
'No．'
The strange boy whistled， and put his arms into his pockets as far as the big coat sleeves would allow him． 'I suppose you want to sleep somewhere tonight， don't you？'
'I do，' replied O liver． 'I haven't slept under a roof since I started my journey．'
'Well， don't worry．I've got to be in London tonight， and I know a very nice old gentleman the re who'll let you live in his place and not even ask you for money！'
O liver was deeply grateful for this offer of shelter and talked for a long time with his new friend． His name was Jack Dawkins， but he was usually called 'The Artful Dodger'． 'Artful' because he was very clever at getting what he wanted；and 'Dodger' because he was very good at not getting caught when he did something wrong．When he heard this，O liver