and beholding a light shining through the
 glass-window of the little parlour at the
 back of the shop, he made bold to peep in
 and see what was going forward; and,
 when he saw what was going forward, he
 was not a little surprised.
 
The cloth was laid for supper, and the
 table was strewed with bread and butter,
 plates and glasses, a pewter-pot, and a
 wine-bottle. At the upper end of the
 table Mr. Noah Claypole lolled negligently
 in an easy-chair with his legs thrown over
 one of the arms, an open clasp-knife in
 one hand, and a mass of buttered bread
 in the ether; close beside him stood
 Charlotte, opening oysters from a barrel,
 which Mr. Claypole condescended to
 swallow with remarkable avidity.. A more
 than ordinary redness in the region of the
 young gentleman’s nose, and a kind of fixed
 wink, in his right eye, denoted that he was
 in a slight degree intoxicated ; and these
 symptoms were confirmed by the intense
 relish with which he took his oysters, for
 which nothing but a strong appreciation
 of their cooling properties in cases of
 internal fever could have sufficiently ac¬
 counted. |
 
s Here’sa delicious fat one, Noah dear!”
 said Charlotte; “try him, do; only this
 
 
“ What a delicious thing is a oyster !”
 remarked Mr. Claypole after he had
 swallowed it. “ What a pity it is a number
 of "em should ever make you feel un¬
 comfortable, isn’t it, Charlotte ?”
 
“ It’s quite a cruelty,” said Charlotte.
 
“So it is," acquiesced Mr. Claypole.
 * Ain't yer fond of oysters?” »
 
s Not over-much,” replied Charlotte.
 “T like to see you eat "em, Noah dear,
 better than eating them myself.”
 
“ Lor’! said Noah refiectively ; how
 
 
queer !”
 “ Have another?’ said Charlotte.
 
“ Here’s one with such a beautiful, deli¬
 cate beard !” |
 
“T can’t manage any more,” said Noah.
 “T’m very sorry. Come here, Charlotte,
 and I — yer.”
 
 
c What!’ exclaimed Mr. Bumble,
 bursting into the room. “ Say that again,
 sir.
 
Charlotte uttered a scream, and hid her
 face in her apron; while Mr. Claypole,
 without making any further change in his
 position than suffering his legs to reach
 the ground, gazed at the beadle in drunk¬
 en terror.
 
“Say it in, you vile, owdacious
 fellow !" said Mr. Bumble. " How dare
 you mention such a thing, sir? and how
 dare you encourage him, you insolent
 minx? Kiss her!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble
 in strong indignation. “ Faugh!”
 fő A I didn’t anne to Ar it!” said —— |
 
ubbering. ‘ She’s always a-kissmg o
 me, eh I like it or not.”
 
“ Oh, Noah !” cried Charlotte reproach¬
 fully.
 
6 Yer are, yer know yer are!” retorted
 Noah. ‘She’s always a-doing of it, Mr.
 Bumble, sir; she chucks me under the
 chins please sir, and makes all manner of
 
ove !”
 
c Silence!" cried. Mr. Bumble sternly.
 c Take yourself down stairs, ma’am!
 Noah, you shut up the shop, and say an¬
 other word till your master comes home
 at your peril; and, when he does come
 home, tell him that Mr. Bumble said he
 
 
breakfast to-morrow morning. Do you
 hear, sir? Kissing!” cried Mr. Bumble,
 holding up his hands. “ The sin and
 wickedness of the lower orders in this
 porochial district is frightful; if parha¬
 ment don’t take their abominable courses
 under consideration, this country "s ruined,
 and the character of the peasantry gone
 for ever!" With these words the beadle
 strode, with a lofty and gloomy air, from
 the undertaker’s premises, |
 
And now that we have accompanied
 him so far on his road home, and have
 made all necessary preparations for the
 old woman’s funeral, let us set on foot a
 few inquiries after young Oliver Twist,
 and ascertain whether he be still lying in
 the ditch where Toby Crackit left him. ¬