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As a kid growing up I always thought that everyone hunted. Being surrounded by people that went into the woods with their hunting gear at least 8 months out of the year was just a way of life for me. After I met my husband we moved to northern Minnesota where hunting and fishing reign supreme among outdoor recreation. I was ecstatic to see UGGクラシックトール some of the monster bucks I had only heard about. Our first season hunting together turned into a nightmare for me. I had always considered myself a very knowledgeable deer hunter. But, I was unable to even consider shooting a deer that year. I actually struggled the next 2 seasons as well, I was beside myself, remember, I thought I knew it all. My husband began giving me a very hard time, he kept reminding me of what a master hunter I was, not! My husbands incescant teasing about my inability to get a trophy buck was putting me on a war path. He on the other hand was struggling a bit but still managed to bag one every year. I was so unsure of myself I didn’t even want to consider going back into the woods last season. I was just flabergasted as to why I wasn’t getting monster bucks like all of our buddies. We have always been natural hunters, we don’t bait and we don’t try to Parts of a Bowie Knife drive the deer to us in any way. Our hunting location is in a very secluded location and there have been several world record bucks taken from this remote location. So I was really in a funk over why I was the one not getting the record breaker.

So, I secretly decided to do a little reasearch on my own and like everyone does when looking for information fast, I hit the internet to look for some sort of tips or tricks on trophy deer hunting that I could use without my husband knowing it, something that I could pretend I came up with on my own. I was going to be real sneaky, well I came across a site that caught my eye very quickly. I read through the first page and thought, hey this guy sounds like he might actually know something. So I took the plunge, and holy man, was I shocked. I thought I knew pretty much everything about deer hunting. Wrong! After going through this entire manual I realized I was basically a non-hunter, so now I had to make the decision of whether or not to share this info with my husband. At first I didn’t, then when I realized that this really could benefit him as well, I gave in and had him go over all of the wonderful information. He was also shocked, again thinking he was a master deer hunter. I thought he would be a little put out that I went elsewhere for infomation on deer hunting, but he was actually pleasantly surprised when he learned a ton of stuff he didin’t know before. This in turn made me a very happy camper. We couldn’t wait for the season to start and when it did we put all of our new knowledge into play and WHAMO first day I bagged an 10 point bad boy that went down like a ton of bricks. My husband got and even nicer 10 pointer on the 3rd day in, he hesitantly thanked me, only because his trophy buck didn’t come through until day 3, he thought it should be day 1, but we were like kids in a candy store by the end of our season and every deer hunter in our party was able to get their tags filled with big ones as well. I am so glad I took the secretive plunge and found this great manual, if you are looking for an advantage over your hunting buddies, I suggest you go check out this great manual, trust me when the king of all kings walks straight under your stand, you will be thanking me.

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The first benefit of the leather snow boots is that the leather snow boots have a better quality of keeping feet warm than other winter boots. The leather snow boots can resist the severe cold. The leather snow boots usually choose the sheep skin or cow skin. The sheep skin or cow skin is very thick. The wool on the skin is soft and smooth. The length is usually over one millimeter. This thick wool make your feet feel very comfortable and warm.

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   　I was beginning to grow handsome．My coat was fine and soft， and was a shiny black． I had one white foot，and a pretty white star on my forehead． When I was four years old，Mr Gordon came to look at me．He looked closely at my eyes，my mouth， and my legs， and then I had to walk and trot and gallop for him．

　　’When he has been trained，’Mr Gordon said to my master，’he will do very well．’

　　My master liked to train his horses himself before selling them，and the next day my training began．

　　To train a horse is to teach him to wear a saddle，and to carry a man，woman or child on his back．The horse must also learn to wear a collar， and to stand still when it is put on；then to have a carriage fixed behind him， and to go fast or slow，whichever his driver wishes． He must never bite or kick or talk to other horses， and must always do what his master tells him，however tired or hungry he feels．

　　Like all horses that have grown up，I had to wear a bit and bridle．A bit is a great piece of cold hard metal， as thick as a man’s finger，which is pushed into a horse’s mouth between his teeth and over his tongue， with the ends coming out at the corners． It is held there by straps which go over the horse’s head，under his neck，round his nose and under his chin．Reins，which the rider holds，are fastened to each end of the bit．Slowly， with my master’s kind words and gentle ways， I learned to wear my bit and bridle．

　　Next there was the saddle．My master put it on my back very gently， then fixed the straps under my body， speaking qui-etly to me all the time．Then one morning， he got on my back and rode me round the field on the soft grass．He did this every day until I was used to it． Then he took me to the village where a man fixed metal shoes on to each hoof．My feet felt heavy and strange，but I got used to this，too．

　　There were more new things to wear．First，a heavy collar on my neck，and a bridle with great side pieces against my eyes，called blinkers．With these on，I could only see in front of me．But in time I got used to everything，and could do my work as well as my mother．

　　For a fortnight， my master sent me to a neighbour’s farm for another kind of training， which was very useful to me．One field was next to the railway and had sheep and cows in it， and I was put in among them．I shall never forget the first train that thundered by， and how I galloped to the far side of the field，trembling with fear at this terrible noise．But after a few days I cared as little as the sheep and cows when a train passed by．

　　It was early in May when a man came to take me away to Mr Gordon’s house．My master said，’Goodbye，Darkie．Be a good horse，and always do your best．’I put my nose into his hand and he patted me kindly，and then I left my first home．

       Mr Gordon’s house，which was called the Hall，stood in Birtwick Park，near the village．We went into the Park through a large gate，then trotted along a smooth road between some trees to the house and gardens．Beyond this were the stables．

　　There was room for many horses and carriages．My stable had four good stalls and a large window．It was very pleasant．The first stall was called a loose box，where a horse is not tied up all the time but is free to move around as he likes．It is a great thing to have a loose box．The groom put me into it and gave me some oats．Then he patted me，spoke kindly，and went away．In the stall next to mine stood a little fat grey pony．

　　’Hello，’I said．’What is your name？’

　　’Merrylegs，’he said，turning round．’I'm very handsome．I carry the young ladies on my back， and sometimes I take Mrs Gordon out in one of the carriages．Are you going to live next to me in the box？’

　　’Yes，’I said．

　　’Then I hope you are well-behaved，’he said．’I don’t like anyone who bites．’

　　A horse’s head looked over from the stall beyond．It was a tall brown mare， and she did not look pleased．’So it’s you who has turned me out of my bx，’she said．

　　’I'm sorry，’I said，’but the man put me in here，so it is not my fault．I don’t want to argue with anyone；I just wish to live in peace．

　　Later，Merrylegs told me about the tall brown mare．

　　’Ginger has a bad habit of biting people，’he explained．’One day，she bit James in the arm，and Miss Flora and Miss Jessie， the children， were afraid to come into the stable after that．If you don’t bite， I hope they’ll start to come again．’

　　I told him I never bit anything except grass and could not understand why Ginger bit people．

　　’No one was ever kind to her before she came here，’said Merrylegs．’John and James do all they can to please her，and our master is never unkind．I’m twelve years old， and I know that there isn’t a better place for a horse all round the country than this．John has been here fourteen years and is the best groom there ever was．And you never saw a kinder stableboy than James．There was no reason for Ginger to bite anyone．It’s her own fault that she did not stay in the box．’

　　The name of the groom was John Manly．The next morning， he got out his brushes and gave me a good grooming，then put a saddle on me．He rode me slowly at first，then at a trot， then at a gallop．As we came back through the Park， we met Mr and Mrs Gordon．They stopped and John jumped off．

　　’Well，John， how does he go？’said Mr Gordon．

　　’He’s a fine horse，sir，’said John．’He’s fast，but the light-est touch of the rein will guide him．They were shooting birds near Highwood，and a gun went off closeby． He pulled up a lit-tle，but I just held the rein and he wasn’t frightened at all． It’s my opinion he was never frightened or beaten when he was young．’

　　’Good，’said Mr Gordon．’I'll ride him tomorrow．’

　　I remembered my mother’s advice， and the next day I tried to do exactly what my master wanted me to do．He was a very good rider，and when he came home his wife was waiting for him at the door．

　　’How do you like him， my dear？’she asked．

　　’I have never ridden a more pleasant horse，’answered Mr Gordon．’What shall we call him？’

　　’What about Blackbird，like your uncle’s old horse？’said his wife．

　　’He’s far handsomer than Blackbird，’said Mr Gordon．

　　’Yes，’she said，’he’s quite a beauty， and he has a kind， in-telligent face．Shall we call him Black Beauty？’

　　’Black Beauty—why，yes，I think that’s a very good name，’said Mr Gordon．

　　John went into the stable and told James．

　　’I'd call him Rob Roy，’said James，’if it did not remind ev-eryone of the past．I never saw two horses more alike．’

　　’That’s not surprising，’said John．’Didn’t you know that Farmer Grey’s old Duchess was the mother of them both？’

　　So poor Rob Roy who was killed at the hunt was my brother！ Now I understood why my mother was so unhappy when he died．

　　John was very proud of me，and seemed to know just how a horse feels．And James was kind，too．

　　A day or two later，I went out in the carriage with Ginger．I wondered how we would get on together， but I found it easy to trot along beside her．

　　Merrylegs was a happy little pony and was everyone’s favourite．We were soon great friends and I became quite happy in my new home．

This article comes from: http://www.onsaleuggs.org/

       The Rat got hold of Toad’s neck, pulled him out of the water, and took him into his hall.

　　’Oh Ratty! ‘ cried Toad. ‘I’ve done so many wonderful things since I last saw you! The dangers that I’ve been in! I was put in prison-escaped, of course! Pushed into a canal-swam safely away! Stole a horse- sold it for a lot of money! Oh, I am a clever Toad, and—’

　　’Toad, ‘ said the Water Rat, very seriously, ‘stop boasting! Go, upstairs at once, wash yourself, and put on some of my clothes. I’ve never seen anything as wet and dirty as you are. ‘

　　Toad went upstairs a little crossly, but he was pleased to get out of the washerwoman’s dress. He came down very clean and tidy, and ready to tell the Rat all about his adventures- how clever, how brave, how successful he had been . The Rat gave him lunch, and listened, unsmiling, while Toad talked and talked and talked. When at last he finished, the Rat looked up .

　　’I have to tell you, Toad, ‘ he said slowly, ‘that I feel ashamed— yes, ashamed, to have a criminal, an escaped prisoner, for my friend . Can’ t you see that none of this is exciting or amusing? ‘

　　There was a little silence. Then Toad said sadly, ‘You’ re right, Ratty. Of course you are. How silly and boastful I have been! I shall become a quiet, sensible Toad from now on. In a while I’ll walk down to Toad Hall and—’

　　‘Walk down to Toad Hall?’ cried the Rat. ‘What are you talking about? Haven’t you heard ?’

　　’Heard what?’ said Toad, looking frightened. ‘Quick, Ratty, tell me! What haven’t I heard?’

　　’About the Wild Wooders! ‘ cried the Rat. ‘The Stoats and the Weasels and the Ferrets- they’ve taken Toad Hall! When you were sent to prison, they came out of the Wild Wood one dark night and broke into the Hall. They’ve been living there ever since— eating your food, drinking your drink, giving wild parties. They’ve got guns and knives and sticks, and they keep guards round the house night and day. They say they’ re going to stay there for ever. ‘

　　At first Toad couldn’t believe it. But he had gone up to Toad Hall, and two ferrets in the garden had laughed at him, and the stoats who were guarding the walls had shot at him. Toad dropped flat in the road and the bullet passed over his head. He went back, very unhappy, to the Water Rat.

　　That night there was a meeting in the Rat’s house. The Mole and the Badger came, to talk about plans to take back Toad Hall from the Wild Wooders.

　　UGGクラシックトール, the Badger shook his head sadly. ‘ Poor Toad! This is not a happy home-coming for you.

　　But the Mole was very pleased to see him. ‘Here’s old Toad! ‘ he cried. ‘How did you manage to escape from prison?It was very clever of you to do that. ‘

　　’ Clever?’ said Toad. ‘Well, I don’t want to boast, Mole. I’ll tell you all about it and you can decide if一 ‘Toad, do he quiet, please! ‘ said the Rat. ‘We need to discuss plans. I think I know the best way for Toad to—’

　　’No, you don’t! ‘ said the Mole. ‘I know what Toad should do. He should—’

　　’Well, I’m not going to! ‘ cried Toad, getting excited. ‘I’m not taking orders from you fellows! It’s my house that we’re talking about and—’

　　By now they were almost shouting at each other, when suddenly a deep low voice came from an armchair.

　　’Be quiet at once, all of you! ‘ said the Badger. ‘And listen. The Mole and I have been watching Toad Hall. The stoats, with their guns, are on guard all round the walls, and they’re very good guards too. We can’t attack the place from outside. They’re too strong for us. ‘

　　’ Then there’s no hope, ‘ cried Toad miserably. ‘I shall go and join the army or something, and never see my dear Toad Hall again! ‘

　　’Cheer up, Toady, ‘ said the Badger, ‘because now I’m going to tell you a very great secret. ‘

　　Toad sat up, interested. He loved secrets, although he could never keep them.

　　’There- is- an -underground- tunnel, ‘ said the Badger slowly, ‘which goes from the river bank near here, right up into the middle of Toad Hall. ‘

　　’ Don’t be silly, Badger! cried Toad. ‘ Of course there isn’t! I know Toad Hall, inside and outside, and—’

　　’ My young friend, ‘ said the Badger calmly, ‘ your father—who was a great friend of mine— told me many things that he didn’t tell you. “ Don’t tell my son about this tunnel, ” he said to me. “ He’s a good boy, but he talks far too much. ”’

　　Toad opened his mouth to argue, and then decided not to .

　　’I asked Otter, ‘ continued the Badger, ‘ to do some spy work for us. He pretended to be a gardener and went to the back door of the Hall, asking for work. During the conversation he learnt that tomorrow night there will be a big birthday par-ty— the Chief Weasel’s, I think— in the dining-hall. All the weasels will be there, eating and drinking and laughing, and making a lot of noise. ‘

　　’ But the stoats will still be on guard on the walls, ‘ said the Rat.

　　’True, ‘agreed the Badger. ‘But the weasels, you see, know that, so they won’t have any guns or sticks with them at the party. And the tunnel comes up into that little room right next to the dining-hall. We only have to—’

　　’—run into the dining-hall—’ cried the Mole.

　　’—with our guns and sticks and knives —’shouted the Rat.

　　’—and chase them and beat them and hit them! ‘cried the Toad, greatly excited. He ran round and round the room, jumping over the chairs.

　　‘ Very well, then, ‘ said the Badger, sitting back comfortably and opening his newspaper. ‘That is the plan, and there’s nothing more for you to argue about. ‘

　　All the next day the Rat hurried about, getting the guns and the knives and the sticks ready. Once the Badger lifted his head from the newspaper.

　　’We shan’t need guns or knives, Ratty, ‘he said. ‘We four, with our sticks, will clear the dining-hall in five minutes. I could do it by myself. ‘

　　’Better to be safe than sorry, ‘ said the Rat.

　　At last the evening came, and the four friends went quietly along the river bank to find the entrance to the secret tunnel. Toad, of course, managed to fall in the river and his friends had to pull him out. The tunnel was cold, and wet, and dark, and narrow. Poor Toad got frightened and ran into the Rat by mistake, who then nearly knocked the Mole over. All this made a lot of noise, and the Badger, who was in front with the lantern, turned round.

　　’ If Toad can’t keep quiet, ‘ he whispered angrily, ‘I’ll leave him here alone in the dark! ‘

　　After that, the Toad kept very quiet.

　　They could hear the noise of the party while they were still underground. Silently, they pushed open the door in the roof of the tunnel, and climbed up into the small room next to the dining-hall. Now they could hear one of the weasels singing a very rude song about Toad the car-thief.

　　’Just wait until I get my hands on him! ‘ Toad whispered angrily, showing his teeth.

　　’ Right, boys! ‘ said the Badger, looking round at his friends. ‘ The hour has come! Follow me! ‘

　　And they crashed through the door into the dining-hall.

　　What a battle it was! How the four friends roared as they ran through the hall! What screams of fear came from the surprised weasels and ferrets! Tables and chairs were knocked over, plates and glasses went crashing to the floor. Up and down went the four friends, shouting and roaring, and their sticks whistled through the air. There were only four of them, but they seemed enormous to the weasels and the ferrets. The Wild Wooders ran in terror, escaping through the doors and windows , and even up the chimneys—anywhere to get away from those terrible sticks.

　　In five minutes the room was cleared. The stoats outside, the four friends discovered later, had gone too. They were already frightened by the noise of battle from the hall, so when the weasels and the ferrets started running out in terror, the stoats dropped their guns and ran back to the Wild Wood. In fact, after that night there was no more trouble from the Wild Wooders for a long time. And when any of them met the Badger and his friends out for a walk, they were very polite indeed.

　　Back in Toad Hall, there was a lot of tidying up to do after the battle. At last it was all done, and the four friends, tired but happy, went upstairs to bed.

　　’And now, ‘ said the Badger, after breakfast the next morning, ‘we must have a Victory Party. Toad, you must write and invite all our friends for tonight. ‘

　　’What—me do all the work?’ said Toad crossly, ‘Why…’He suddenly stopped, then said, ‘ Yes, of course. I’ll do every-thing. I’ll plan the party, and the singing and—’

　　’Oh no, ‘ said the Rat, ‘You’re not going to sing any of your songs. ‘

　　’Not just one little song?’ asked Toad miserably.

　　’ No, Toady. You know very well that your songs are all about you and how clever you are. They’re just one long boast! ‘

　　’ Come on now, Toad, ‘ said the Badger kindly. ‘You know that you have to change your ways and become a sensible animal. Why not begin now? What better moment could there be, on your return to Toad Hall?’

　　Toad looked at his three friends’ serious faces. For a long while he seemed to be thinking deeply. At last he spoke. ‘My friends, you are right, ‘ he said sadly. ‘And I am wrong. From today, I will be a very different Toad. You will never be ashamed of me again. ‘

　　The party was a great success. Everyone wanted to hear about the battle, and there was a lot of noisy talking and laughing. But Toad was not at all noisy. He moved quietly round the room, making sure that everyone had enough to eat and drink. He said very little about the battle, only, ‘Oh, it was Badger’s clever plan. And the Mole and the Rat did all the hard fighting.

　　His three friends watched him with their mouths open in surprise-which pleased Toad very much. Towards the end of the evening, some of the younger animals started banging on the table and shouting, ‘ Toad! Song! Mr Toad’ s Song! ‘ But Toad only shook his head gently, and immediately began a quiet conversation with Otter, asking in an interested voice about his children.

He was indeed a different Toad!

So next day, at seven o’clock, I came to the shop in a cab. There were not very many people in the road, be－cause it was early in the morning. In November it is dark at seven o’clock in the morning, and I could not see the shop very well. I waited five minutes. A postman walked past. Then the door of the shop opened, and the creature, Merrick , came out.

I could not see his face or his body. He had an enormous black hat on his head, like a big box. A grey cloth came down from the hat, in front of his face. There was a hole in the cloth in front of his eyes. He could see out of the hole but I could not see in. He wore a long black coat, too. The coat began at his neck, and ended at his feet, so I could not see his arms, his body, or his legs. On his feet he wore big shoes, like old bags.

He had a stick in his left hand, and he walked very slowly. I opened the door of the cab, and got out.

‘Good morning, Mr Merrick, ’I said. ‘Can you get in？’

‘Elpmyupasteps, ’he said.

‘I’m sorry, ’I said. ‘I don’t understand. ’

For a minute he stood by the door of the cab and said nothing. Then he hit the cab with his stick.

‘STEPS! ’he said loudly. ‘Help me up the steps! ’

Then I understood. There were three steps up into the cab, and he could not get up them.

‘Yes, I see. I’m sorry, ’I said. ‘Let me help you. ’

I took his left hand and began to help him. My right hand was behind his back. I felt very strange. His left hand was like a young woman’s, but his back under the coat, was horrible. I could feel the bags of old skin on his back under the coat.

He put one enormous foot on the first step, and then he stopped. After a minute, he moved his second foot slowly. Then he stopped and waited again.

‘Hello, sir. Can I help you？’

I looked behind me. It was the postman. And behind him, I could see three young boys. One of the boys laughed.

The postman smiled. ‘Is the gentleman ill？’he asked.

I thought quickly. ‘Yes. But this is a lady, not a gentle-man. I’m a doctor, and she’s ill. Take her hand, so I can help her better. ’

The postman took Merrick’s left hand, and I helped him with two hands from behind. Slowly, very slowly, Merrick went up the steps and into the cab.

One boy was very near the cab. He called to his friends.

‘Come and see this, boys! A fat lady in a black coat! And look at that enormous hat! ’

The boys laughed. They were very near the cab too, now. I closed the door quickly.

‘Thank you, ’I said to the postman.

‘That’s all right, sir, ’he said. ‘She’s a strange lady, sir, isn’t she？’

‘She’s ill, that’s all, ’I said quickly. ‘We’re going to the hospital. Goodbye, and thank you. ’

The cab drove down the road to the hospital. I locked at Merrick. ‘That was difficult, wasn’t it？’I said.

At first he said nothing, but then he spoke. His voice was very strange, but I listened to him carefully, and I could understand him.

‘The steps were very difficult, ’he said. ‘But most things are difficult for me. ’

‘Yes, ’I said. ‘ Nothing is easy for you, is it？’

‘No, ’he said. He was very quiet for a minute. Then he said, ‘Who are you, sir？’

‘Who am I？Oh, I’m sorry, My name is Dr Treves. Here, this is my card. ’

I gave him a card with my name on. Then I thought, ‘That was no good. This man can’t read. ’But Merrick took the card and looked at it very carefully. Then he put it in his trousers pocket.

I did not talk to him very much at the hospital. I looked at his head and arms and legs and body very carefully. Then I wrote the important things about him in a little book. A nurse helped me. Merrick looked at her sometimes, but she did not smile at him or talk to him. I think she was afraid of him. I think Merrick was afraid too, because he was very quiet.

At four o’clock I took him back to the shop in a cab. The next day I looked in the shop window again, but the picture was not there.

This article comes from: http://www.onsaleuggs.org/

　　‘Well， this is grand！’said Alice．She got up andwalked around for a while，but the crown feltvery heavy and strange，so she sat down again. Then she no-ticed that the Red Queen and the White Queen were now sit-ting on either side of her．How they had got there，she had noidea．But she was not at all surprised． Nothing could surpriseher now in the looking-glass world．
　　‘Now I am a Queen，’said Alice，‘does this mean that thegame of chess has finished，or-’
　　‘Speak when you’re spoken to！’the Red Queen said．‘Think before you speak， and write it down afterwards．’
　　‘But I only-’Alice began·
　　‘And you can’t be a Queen， ’the Red Queen went on，‘un-til you’ve done your lessons．’
　　‘Are you good at sums？’ the White Queen asked．‘What’s one and one and one and one and one and one and one？’
　　‘I don’t know，’said Alice．‘I lost count．But why-’
　　‘She can’t do sums，’said the Red Queen．‘What about lan-guages？ And can you read？’
　　‘Of course I can read！’Alice said．‘And I know a littleFrench，but I really don’t see why-’
　　‘It’s clear，’said the White Queen，shaking her head sadly，‘that she wants to argue about something，but she doesn’tknow what to argue about！’
　　Alice decided it would be safer to say nothing， and for awhile there was silence． Then the Red Queen said to theWhite Queen，‘I invite you to Alice’s party this afternoon．’
　　‘And I invite you，’the White Queen replied．‘But I musthave a rest first，’she went on．‘I am so sleepy．’
　　‘And so must I，’said the Red Queen．She looked at Alice．‘You can sing to us，to help us sleep．’
　　Then the two Queens put their heads against Alice’s shoul-ders．In a moment they were both asleep，and snoring loudly．
　　After a while the snoring seemed to change and began tosound almost like music．Alice thought that she could evenhear some words. She listened hard， and suddenly she foundthat the Queens had disappeared， and she was standing infront of a tall and very grand-looking doorway．Above the doorwere the words QUEEN ALICE in large letters．
　　Alice knocked，and the door flew open．There seemed to behundreds of voices singing， and Alice could now hear thewords very clearly．They went like this：
　　Then fill up the glasses with everything nice，
　　And cover the table with buttons and rice．
　　Put cats in the coffee，and salt in the tea-
　　And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three！
　　‘I suppose I should go in，’Alice said to herself．So in shewent，and at once everyone in the hall became silent．
　　As she walked down the long hall， she saw that there wereanimals， birds， and even a few flowers among the crowd seat-ed round the table. At the top there were three chairs； theRed and White Queens had taken two of them， but the middleone was empty． Alice sat down，feeling a little uncomfortableand wishing that someone would speak．
　　At last the Red Queen began．‘You’ve missed the fish．Bring the meat now！’And at once the waiters put a large jointof meat in front of Alice．
　　But before she could begin to cut up the joint， the RedQueen spoke again．‘Let me introduce you to the joint，’ shesaid．‘Alice-Meat．Meat-Alice．’
　　The joint of meat then stood up on the plate and curtsied toAlice．Alice，feeling both frightened and amused，picked upthe knife and fork．‘May I give you some meat？’she said，looking from one Queen to the other．
　　‘UGGクラシックトール！’the Red Queen said．‘It isn’t polite to cutanyone you’ve been introduced to．Take away the joint！’
　　The waiters immediately carried away the joint，andbrought a large plum-pudding in its place．
　　‘Please don’t introduce me to the pudding，’said Alicequickly，‘or we shall get no dinner at all．’
　　But the Red Queen said loudly，‘Pudding- Alice． Alice-Pudding．Take away the pudding！’And the waiters took itaway at once．
　　Then Alice decided to give an order herself．‘Waiter！Bringback the pudding！’When the pudding appeared again，shequickly cut off a piece and gave it to the Red Queen．
　　‘That’s really friendly！’said the Pudding．‘How wouldyou like someone to cut a piece out of you？’
　　Alice was too surprised to speak．
　　‘Say something，’said the Red Queen．‘You can’t leave allthe conversation to the pudding！’
　　By this time the party was beginning to get very noisy，andmore and more strange things were happening．Bottles andplates were now walking around on the table，arm in arm， andthe White Queen began to whisper in Alice’s ear a long poemabout fishes．Then the Red Queen screamed at the top of hervoice，‘Let’s drink to Queen Alice’s health！’
　　Some of the animals put their glasses upside-down on theirheads，others got inside them or knocked them over on thetable．The forks began to dance with the spoons，and the noisegot wilder and wilder．The White Queen said in Alice’s ear，‘You must stand up and give thanks now， you know．’
　　Alice stood up．‘I must stop all this！’she cried，and shetook hold of the table-cloth with both hands．One good pull，and everything came crashing down on the floor．
‘And now for you！’she went on， turning to the RedQueen，who had suddenly become very much smaller and wasrunning around on the table．‘You started all this trouble，and I’ll shake you into a kitten！Yes，I will！’

O liver was now officially an undertaker’s assistant．It was a good，sickly time of year，and coffins were selling well. O liver gained a lot of experience in a short time，and was interested to see how brave some people were after a death in the family. During funerals for some rich people， for example，he saw that the people who had cried the loudest in church usually recovered the fastest afterwards．He noticed how in other wealthy families the wife or the husband often seemed quite cheerful and calm despite the recent death-just as if nothing had happened．O liver was very surprised to see all this， and greatly admired the m for controlling their sadness so well.

He was treated badly by most of the people around him．Noah was jealous because O liver went out to burials while he was left back in the shop，so he treated him even worse than before．Charlotte treated him badly because Noah did. And Mrs Sowerberry was his enemy because Mr Sowerberry was supposed to be his friend.

One day something happened which might seem unimportant，but which had a great effect on O liver’s future. Noah was in a particularly bad mood one dinner-time，and so he tried to make O liver cry by hitting him，pulling his hair，and calling him horrible names. This was all unsuccessful， so he tried personal insults．

 ‘Workhouse， how’s your mother？’ he asked．

 ‘She’s dead，’replied O liver，his face going red with emotion．

Noah hoped that O liver was going to cry， so he continued．

 ‘What  did  she  die  of， Workhouse？’

 ‘Of a broken heart， I was told．’And a tear rolled down O liver’s  cheek.

 ‘Why  are  you  crying，Workhouse？’

O liver remained silent，and Noah grew braver． ‘You know，I feel very sorry for you，Workhouse，but the truth is your mother  was  a  wicked  woman．’

O liver seemed suddenly to wake up. ‘What did you say？’

 ‘She was so bad it was lucky she died， or she would have ended up in prison，or hung.’

His face bright red with anger，O liver jumped up， seized Noah’s throat， and shook the older boy so violently that his teeth nearly fell out. The n he hit him with all his strength and knocked him to the ground．

 ‘He’ll murder me！’screamed Noah． ‘Charlotte！ Help！O liver’s gone mad—’

Charlotte and Mrs Sowerberry ran in and screamed in horror．They took hold of O liver and began to heat him． The n Noah got up and started to kick him from behind．When They were all tired， They forced O liver， who was still fighting and shouting， into  the  cellar  and  locked  it．

Mrs Sowerberry sat down， breathing heavily． ‘He’s like a wild animal！’she said． ‘We could all have been murdered in our beds！’

 ‘I hope Mr Sowerberry doesn’t take any more of the se dreadful creatures from the workhouse，’said Charlotte． ‘Poor Noah was nearly killed！’Mrs Sowerberry looked at Noah sympathetically.

Noah， who was twice O liver’s size， pretended to rub tears from his eyes．

 ‘What shall we do？’ cried Mrs Sowerberry． ‘He’ll kick that door down in ten minutes.’ They could hear O liver banging and kicking at the cellar door． ‘Noah-run and get Mr Bumble．’

So Noah ran through the streets as quickly as he could to fetch the beadle． When he reached the workhouse， he waited for a minute to make sure his face was suitably tearful and frightened.

As soon as Mr Bumble came out，Noah cried， ‘Mr Bumble！Mr Bumble！ It’s O liver Twist，sir．He’s become violent．He tried to murder me， sir！ And Charlotte， and Mrs Sowerberry as well.’

Mr Bumble was shocked and angry． ‘Did he？I’ll come up the re immediately and beat him with my stick．’

When he arrived at the shop，O liver was still kicking wildly at the cellar door.

 ‘Let me out！’he shouted from the cellar，when he heard Mr Bumble’s voice． ‘I’m not afraid of you！’

Mr Bumble stopped for a moment，amazed and even rather frightened by this change in O liver． The n he said to Mrs Sowerberry， ‘It’s the meat that’s caused this， you know.’

 ‘What？’

 ‘Meat， madam. You’ve fed him too well here. Back in the workhouse this would never have happened.’

 ‘I knew I was too generous to him，’said Mrs Sowerberry，raising her eyes to the ceiling．

At that moment Mr Sowerberry returned and，hearing what had happened（according to the ladies）， he beat O liver so hard that even Mr Bumble and Mrs Sowerberry were satisfied． Mr Sowerberry was not a cruel man，but he had no choice. He knew that if he didn’t punish O liver， his wife would never forgive him．

That night， alone in the room with the coffins，O liver cried bitter， lonely tears． He did not sleep， and very early in the morning， before anyone was awake， he quietly unlocked the shop door and left the house． He ran up the street and through the town as far as the main road，where he saw a sign that told him it was just seventy miles from the re to London. The name London gave the boy an idea．That huge place！ Nobody，  not even Mr Bumble， could ever find him the re！He had heard old men in the workhouse say it was a good place for brave boys，and  that  the re  was always work  the re  for  those  that  wanted  it．It would be the best place for him．He jumped to 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 felt rather doubtful about having such a friend．However，he wanted first to meet the kind old gentleman in London，who would help him．After that，he could decide whether to continue the friendship with the Artful Dodger

O liver stayed a prisoner alone in the dark room for a week． He cried bitterly all day，and when the long night came，he spread his little hands over his eyes to shut out the darkness， and tried to sleep．He was given freezing water to wash with，and was beaten daily by Mr Bumble in front of all the other boys in the hall，as a warning to the m．

One day Mr Bumble met the local undertaker， Mr Sowerberry， outside the workhouse．

 ‘Do you know anybody who wants to train a boy for work，Mr Sowerberry？’Mr Bumble pointed at the notice on the wall above him， which offered five pounds to anybody who would take O liver Twist for work．

Mr Sowerberry rubbed his chin and thought for a while． ‘I pay enough  for the  poor  with my  taxes，’ he said， ‘so why shouldn’t I be able to make use of the m in my work？ Yes， I’ll take the boy myself．’

And so the board agreed to send O liver to work for the undertaker．The necessary papers were signed．O liver’s small possessions were put into a brown paper parcel，and he was led to Mr Sowerberry’s house by Mr Bumble．As They walked along，tears began to run down O liver’s face．

 ‘What is it this time？’asked Mr Bumble impatiently． ‘Don’t be so ungrateful．This gentleman is going to look after you.’

 ‘It’s just that I’m so lonely， sir！’ said the child． ‘Everybody hates me．Please don’t be angry with me，sir！’

Even Mr Bumble felt a little pity. He coughed，told O liver to dry his eyes and be a good boy， and walked on with him in silence.

The undertaker had just finished work for the day when Mr Bumble entered his shop．

 ‘Here，I’ve brought the boy，’ said the beadle．

O liver bowed to the undertaker， who raised his candle to get a better view of the boy． ‘Mrs Sowerberry，’he called， ‘come and  have  a look．’

His wife， a short，thin woman with a disagreeable face，came out to see. ‘He’s very small，’she said immediately．

 ‘He is，’agreed Mr Bumble， ‘but he’ll grow，Mrs Sowerberry.’

 ‘Yes，’she said crossly， ‘when he eats our food. Go on，get downstairs.’ She pushed O liver downstairs into a damp，dark kitchen，and called to the girl working down the re. ‘Here，Charlotte，give this boy some meat that the dog left-if he thinks it’s good enough for him．’

O liver tore the meat to pieces with his teeth as if he were a wild animal. Mrs Sowerberry watched him in silent horror，already thinking about her future food bills，then took him upstairs to the shop．

 ‘You’ll sleep here， among the coffins，’she said.

O liver stared around the dark，airless shop at the coffins，some finished，some only half-made．He trembled at the thought of ghosts．His bed was a small hole in the floor，and looked  very  like  a grave．

But it was not only the room that depressed O liver．He felt very lonely，with no friends and no one to care for him． As he lay on the bed，he found himself wishing that it really was his grave.

The next morning he was woken up by someone kicking at the shop door．

 ‘Open  the door，will you？’shouted a voice through  the keyhole．

 ‘Yes，sir.’

 ‘I suppose you’re the new boy，’said the voice through the keyhole． ‘How old are you？’

 ‘Ten， sir.’

 ‘The n I’ll hit you when I get in，’said the voice．

O liver was experienced enough to know that the promise was probably true． He opened the door with a shaking hand，the n  looked  up  and  down the street．All he could see was a large boy wearing the uniform of one of the charity schools，where the children of the very poor used to go．

 ‘Did you want a coffin？’asked O liver，innocently．

The charity－boy looked at him fiercely． ‘You’ll be needing a coffin soon，Workhouse，if you make jokes like that！ I’m Mister Noah Claypole，and you’re working under me．Now，hurry up and open the curtains！’As he said this， he kicked O liver and entered the shop．He was a big，clumsy boy of about fourteen， with a large head and very small eyes．Added to the se attractions were a red nose and dirty yellow trousers．

The boys went down to breakfast， which the girl Charlotte had made for the m. She gave an extra piece of meat to Noah，the n told O liver to hurry up as it was his job to look after the shop．

 ‘Did you hear that，Workhouse？’ shouted Noah．

 ‘He heard， Noah，’said Charlotte.  ‘Leave him alone.’

 ‘Why？’asked Noah. ‘All his relations have already left him alone. His mother and father aren’t going to interfere with him！’Charlotte and Noah both started laughing loudly．O liver sat alone in the corner，eating old bits of bread.

Noah was a charity－boy， but not a workhouse orphan； he at least knew who his parents were. But for a long time all the local shop－boys had insulted him because he wore the uniform of a charity-boy． Now fortune had brought him a creature in an even lower position in society than himself．Noah intended to repay to O liver every insult he had ever received，and to make the new boy’s life a misery.

After a few weeks，Mr Sowerberry decided that he liked O liver’s appearance enough to train him in the undertaking business．O liver’s permanent expression of sadness was very suitable，the undertaker thought，for collecting dead bodies from houses and accompanying the coffins to funerals.

One day Mr Bumble came to tell the m about a woman who had died in an extremely poor part of the town， and Sowerberry and O liver went to collect the body．They went down dirty narrow streets where the houses on either side were tall and large，but very old．Some of the houses were almost falling down， and had to be supported by huge blocks of wood. The area was so poor that even the dead rats in the street looked as though They had died of hunger．

They found the right house，and climbed the dark stairs to a miserable little room．Some children watched the m from the shadows as They entered．Something lay beneath a blanket on the floor in one corner．A man and an old woman stood near the body．O liver was afraid to look at the m． With their thin faces and sharp teeth， They looked like the rats he had seen outside．

As Sowerberry began to measure the body for a coffin，  the man knelt on the floor and cried out， ‘She starved to death，I tell you！That’s why she died！’He fell to the floor，and all the children behind him started to cry．Sowerberry and O liver，their work done，left as fast as They could．

They returned the next day with the coffin and four men from the workhouse who were to carry it．The man and the old woman followed the coffin to the church，and waited silently by the grave for the priest to arrive．When at last he came， he hurried through the burial prayers， and as quickly as possible（it was only a job，after all） the coffin was put into the ground. At this point the husband， who had not moved once during his wife’s burial- not even during the long wait for the priest-suddenly fainted to the ground and had to have cold water thrown over him．

 ‘So how did you like it，O liver？’asked Sowerberry later，as they walked home.

 ‘Not very much， sir，’O liver answered truthfully．

 ‘You’ll get used to it，my boy.’

O liver wondered how long that would take，and remained silent all the way back to the shop，thinking about everything that he had seen and heard.

O liver Twist was born in a workhouse，and when he arrived in this hard world，it was very doubtful whether he would live beyond the first three minutes．He lay on a hard little bed and struggled to start breathing．

O liver fought his first battle without much assistance from the two people present at his birth．One was an old woman，who was nearly always drunk， and the other was a busy local doctor，who was not paid enough to be very interested in O liver’s survival． After all，death was a common event in the workhouse，where only the poor and homeless lived．

However，O liver managed to draw his first breath，and the n announced his arrival to the rest of the workhouse by crying loudly．His mother raised her pale young face from the pillow and whispered， ‘Let me see the child， and die．’

The doctor turned away from the fire， where he had been warming his hands． ‘You must not talk about dying yet，’he said to her kindly．He gave her the child to hold．Lovingly，she kissed the baby on its forehead with her cold white lips，the n stared wildly around the room，fell back-and died. ‘Poor dear！’said the nurse，hurriedly putting a green glass bottle back in the pocket of her long skirt.

The doctor began to put on his coat． ‘The baby is weak and will probably have difficulties，’ he said． ‘If so， give it a little milk to keep it quiet．’The n he looked at the dead woman.  ‘The mother was a good－looking girl．Where did she come from？’

 ‘She was brought here last  night，’replied the old woman. ‘She was found lying in the street. She’d walked some distance，judging by her shoes，which were worn to pieces．Where she came from，where she was going to，or what her name was，nobody knows.’

The  doctor lifted  the  girl’s  left  hand. ‘The old story，’he said sadly，shaking his  head． ‘No wedding ring， I see．Ah！Good night.’

And so O liver was left with only the drunken nurse．Without clothe s，under his first blanket， he could have been the child of a king or a beggar．But when the woman dressed him later in rough cotton clothe s， yellow with age，he looked exactly what he was – an orphan in a workhouse， ready for a life of misery，hunger， and neglect.

O liver cried loudly．If he could have known that he was a workhouse orphan， perhaps he would have cried even more loudly.

The re was no one to look after the baby in the workhouse，so O liver was sent  to a special  ‘baby farm’ nearby. The re，he and thirty other children rolled around the floor all day，without the inconvenience of too much food or too much clothing. Mrs Mann，the old  woman who  ‘looked  after’ them， was very experienced．She knew what was good for children，and a full stomach was very dangerous to their health. She also knew what was good for herself， so she kept for her own use the money that she was given for the children’s food．The board responsible for the orphans sometimes checked on the health of the children， but They always sent the beadle，a kind of local policeman，to announce their visit the day before．So whenever the board arrived， of course，the children were always neat and clean．

This was the way O liver was brought up. Consequently， at the age of nine he was a pale，thin child and short for his age．But despite frequent beatings by Mrs Mann， his spirit was strong， which was probably the reason why he managed to reach the age of nine at all．

On O liver’s ninth birthday， Mr Bumble the beadle came to the house to see Mrs Mann．Through the front window Mrs Mann saw him at the gate， and turned quickly to the girl who worked with her．

 ‘Quick！Take O liver and those others upstairs to be washed！’she said．The n she ran out  to unlock the gate．（It was always kept locked to prevent official visitors walking in unexpectedly．）

 ‘I have business to talk about，’Mr Bumble told Mrs Mann as he entered the house．He was a big fat man， often bad-tempered， and was full of self-importance. He did not like to be kept waiting at a locked gate.

Mrs Mann took his hat and coat， placed a chair for him，and expressed great concern for his comfort． ‘You’ve had a long walk，Mr Bumble’ she said， ‘and you must be thirsty．’She took out a bottle from the cupboard．

 ‘No， thank you， Mrs Mann. Not a drop．’He waved the bottle away．

 ‘Just a little drop， Mr Bumble， with cold water，’ said Mrs Mann persuasively．

Mr Bumble coughed． ‘What is it？’ he asked， looking at the bottle with interest．

 ‘Gin．I keep it for the children’s medicine drink.’

 ‘You give the children gin，Mrs Mann？’asked Mr Bumble，watching as she mixed his drink．

 ‘Only with medicine， sir． I don’t like to see the m suffer．’

 ‘You’re a good woman， Mrs Mann．’ Mr Bumble drank half his glass immediately． ‘I’ll tell the board about you．Now – the reason why I’m here． O liver Twist is nine years old today． We’ve never been able to discover anything about his parents.’

 ‘The n how did he get his name？’

 ‘I gave it to him，’said Mr Bumble proudly． ‘We follow the  alphabet．The  last  one  was  an S-Swubble． The n it  was T， so this one is Twist． The next one will be Unwin．Anyway，Oliver Twist is now old enough to return to the workhouse． Bring him here， please．’ While Mrs Mann went to get him，  Mr Bumble finished the rest of his gin．

Oliver， his face and hands now almost clean， was led into the room.

 ‘Will you come along with me，Oliver？’asked Mr Bumble in a loud voice．

Oliver was very glad to be free of Mrs Mann’s violence， but he said nothing because she was angrily shaking her finger at him．However，as the gate closed behind O liver，he burst into tears. He was leaving behind the other children， the only friends he had，and he realized at that moment how lonely he was in the world.

Mr Bumble walked on with long steps，with O liver on his short little legs running beside him．The feeling of contentment produced by gin－and－water had now disappeared，and the beadle was in a bad mood once more．

Back at the workhouse， O liver was taken to see the board. He stood in front of ten fat men who were sitting around a table．

 ‘What’s your name， boy？’ asked a particularly fat man with a very round， red face．

O liver was frightened at the sight of so many people， and started to cry.

 ‘Why are you crying？’

The beadle hit him on the back，and so naturally O liver cried even more.

 ‘The boy is a fool，’one member of the board announced.

 ‘You know you have no father or mother，’said the first man， ‘and that you have been brought up with other orphans？’

 ‘Yes， sir，’replied O liver， crying bitterly．

 ‘Why is the boy crying？’repeated the other man， puzzled．

 ‘You have come here to be educated，’continued the fat man，  ‘so you will start working here tomorrow at six o’clock．’

O liver was led away to a large room， where，on a rough hard bed，he cried himself to sleep．

The room in the workhouse where the boys were fed was a large stone hall，and at one end the master and two women served the food．This consisted of a bowl of thin soup three times a day， with a piece of bread on Sundays．The boys ate everything and were always hungry．The bowls never needed washing．The boys polished the m with their spoons until They shone．After three months of this slow starvation，one of the boys told the others he was so hungry that one night he might eat the boy who slept next to him．He had a wild hungry eye，and  the  other  boys  believed  him．After a long  discussion，They decided that one of the m should ask for more food after supper that evening，and O liver was chosen．

The evening arrived；the soup was served，and the bowls were empty again in a few seconds．O liver went up to the master，with his bowl in his hand．He felt very frightened，but also desperate with hunger．

 ‘Please，sir，I want some more．’

The master was a fat，healthy man， but he turned very pale. He looked at the little boy in front of him with amazement．Nobody else spoke．

 ‘What？’ he asked at last， in a faint voice．

 ‘Please， sir，’ replied  O liver， ‘I want  some  more.’

The master hit him with the serving spoon，the n seized O liver’s arms and shouted for the beadle．The beadle came quickly，heard the dreadful news，and immediately ran to tell the board．

 ‘He  asked  for more？’ Mr Limbkins，the  fattest  board member， asked in horror． ‘Bumble – is this really true？’

 ‘That boy  will  be hanged！’ said  the  man who  earlier had called O liver a fool． ‘You see if I’m not right．’

O liver was led away to be locked up，and a reward was offered to anybody who would take him away and use him for work.

　　While Estella lived in London，staying with friends of Miss Havisham’s，I often visited her．She had an endless stream of admirers，and I was jealous of all of them．I never had an hour’s happiness with her，but I still thought about her，day and night，and my dearest wish was to marry her．Several times Miss Havisham ordered me to bring Estella to visit her，and of course I always obeyed．Estella was as proud and cold as ever，with her admirers，with Miss Havisham and with me．

　　One man who admired her and followed her everywhere was the unpleasant Bentley Drummle．One day I asked her about him．

　　‘Estella，why do you encourage someone like Drummle？You know very well he’s stupid，and nobody likes him．’

　　‘Don’t be foolish，Pip，’she answered．‘Perhaps I encourage him because that has a certain effect on the others．’

　　‘But he isn’t worth it！’I cried angrily．

　　‘What difference does it make？’she answered tiredly．‘If I smile at him，it’s because it means nothing to me．You should be glad that I don’t give you false looks or smiles．At least I am always honest with you．’

　　But while my heart was aching for Estella，I had no idea that I would soon be hit by a disaster which would completely destroy my hopos and dreams．The chain of events which had begun before I ever met her was slowly reaching its end．

　　Herbert and I had moved to rooms in a house by the river，in the Temple area．One evening he was abroad on business and I was alone at home，reading．It was terrible weather，stormy and wet，with deep mud in the streets．The wind rushing up the river shook the whole building，and the rain beat violently against the windows．As I closed my book at eleven o’clock，I heard a heavy footstep on the stairs．When I went to the door with my lamp，I saw a man coming slowly upstairs．He was wearing rough clothes，and he was about six－ty，with a brown face and long grey hair．But what really surprized me was that he was holding out both hands to me．

　　‘Can I help you？’I asked politely but coldly．

　　‘Ah！Yes，’he said，dropping his hands，‘yes，I’ll explain．’He came into the sitting－room，where he looked round admiringly at my furniture and books．He held out his hands to me again，but I refused to take them．Then he sat down heavily in a chair，and rubbed his eyes with one rather dirty hand．

　　‘You see，’he said，‘it’s disappointing．Looked forward to this day for so long，I have．But it’s not your fault．I’ll explain．Is there anybody near who can hear us？’

　　‘Why do you，a stranger，visiting me late at night，ask that question？’I asked．And then suddenly I knew who he was！In spite of the years that had passed，I was sure he was my convict！ And when he held out his hands again，this time I took them．He raised my hands to his lips and kissed them．

　　‘You helped me all those years ago，Pip！Never forgotten it！’He seemed to want to put his arms around me，but I stopped him．

　　‘If you are grateful to me for what I did in my childhood，I hope you have improved your way of life now．It wasn’t necessary to come here to thank me．But you must understand that．…’I stopped speaking as I noticed how strangely he was staring at me．

　　‘What must I understand？’he asked，his eyes fixed on me．

　　‘That I don’t wish to be your friend．You and I met once in the past，but now our lives are separate．Will you have a drink before you leave？’As I handed him a glass of rum，I noticed that his eyes were full of tears．‘I’m sorry if that sounds hard，’l added．‘I didn’t mean it to be．Good luck in the future！’We drank together．‘How have you been living recently？’

　　‘I was sent to Australia，you know，because I escaped from the prison-ship．After several years I finished my punishment， and so I was allowed to work for myself．I did every kind of job there．It was a hard life，but I made a lot of money．’

　　‘I’m glad to hear it，’I said．‘That reminds me，I must give you back the two pounds you sent me．I don’t need it now．’And I handed him two new pound notes from my purse．Still watching me，he held them near the lamp until they caught fire．

　　‘May I ask，’he said，‘how you have done so well，since you and I met on those lonely marshes？’His eves were still fixed on mine，and I began to tremble．

　　‘I－I’ve been chosen to inherit a fortune，’I whispered．

　　‘Perhaps I can guess how much，’said the convict．‘Could it be，well，five hundred pounds a year？’I stood up，holding on to the back of my chair，my heart beating like a hammer．

　　‘The agent who arranged it all，’he continued．‘was he perhaps a lawyer，name of Jaggers？’

　　Suddenly I realized the awful truth．I could not speak nor breathe，and fell on to the sofa．He brought his fierce old face close to mine，and bent over me．

　　‘Yes，Pip，dear boy， I’ve made a gentleman of you！You see，I promised myself that all the money I earned out there in Australia should go to you！I’m your second father，Pip！I’m not a gentleman myself，and I didn’t go to school，but I’ve got you，Pip！And look what a gentleman you are！And what books you’ve got！ You’ll read them to me，Pip！And I’ll be proud of you even if I can’t understand them！Didn’t you ever think it could be me who was sending the money？’

　　‘Oh no，no，no，’I replied．‘Never，never！Wasn’t any－one else involved at all？’

　　No，just me，and Jaggers，of course．Who else could there be？Dear boy，I kept myself going，you see，through all the hard work，just by thinking of you．And I promised myself I’d come back to England one day，and see my boy．’He laid his band on my shoulder．‘Now you must find a bed for me，’he added，‘and remember，not a word to anybody．I was sent away for life，and they’ll hang me if they discover I’ve come back．’

　　My feelings were horribly confused．The man who had paid for my education and luxuries for years was risking his life to see me．I could not like him，in fact my whole body trembled with disgust when he touched me，but I had to protect him．

　　He went to sleep in Herbert’s room．After locking all the doors carefully，I sat weakly down by the fire and tried to make sense of my life．How foolish my dreams had been！ Miss Havisham had never intended to make me rich，or let me marry Estella．But there was something worse than that．It was for this convict，who could be caught and hanged at any moment，that I had deserted Joe．I could never，never，never forgive myself for that．